#if the wind rises was him exposing his mistakes then this is his apology

[roydeezed]

One thing for those who have watched The Boy and The Heron or will watch it. The Japanese title for it is How Do You Live? And Miyazaki stated he was leaving it for his grandson, saying, "Grandpa is moving onto the next world soon but he is leaving behind this film".

The deaths of contemporaries and friends such as Satoshi Kon and Isao Takahata and also the expected successor of Yoshifumi Kondo were things that have always weighed heavily on the back of Miyazaki's mind.

He recognizes the industry and the occupation for how soul crushing it was, grinding up either the spirit or the physical body of those who work in it. He loves and hates the industry he stands on the peak of and fully recognizes how it will probably be the death of him. And he knows it'll leave him unable to say a lot of things to his Grandson.

So How Do You Live? is a lesson. For his grandson. For himself. For his two sons. And probably for anyone else willing to pay attention.

Hayao Miyazaki is a flawed man that makes things so important to so many people. And I think more than any other film of his, in this you get to pull back the curtain a bit and see him at work. And what should be this giant unblemished titan can be seen for what he is, a sad old man who had higher hopes for himself and has even higher hopes for the people he makes his work for.

It's a beautiful thing to see another's humanity in their work. To look past the artifice and glam of commercialized art and find humans behind it. And humans willing to show their humanity and mortality is even rarer. And something to be celebrated. So when you watch it. Or if you've watched it already. Understand that this film is Miyazaki kneeling down, weary after years of weaving dreams and making mistakes, reaching out and saying to you that he hopes you can do better. It's an old man who's made all the mistakes of the world passing it on to you, hoping you do better, and making sure you know it's okay if you don't.

How do you Live? By making mistakes. By messing up. But still moving forward. And still reaching out.

[theuphemism]

Lonely Night

Billy Hargrove x M!Reader

Inspired by A Lonely Night - The Weeknd

Additional Informations: Cisgender M!Reader, Billy!sub/Reader!dom, sad end, smut, 2319 words

This was originally written in portuguese and translated into english via google translator, so if there are any mistakes, I'm apologize.

And for women, girly-minded and minors: THIS IS NOT FOR YOU!

The light wind blew against the wooden windows, making the curtains flutter slightly as the cold draft entered the dark room. The local temperature didn't help at that moment, it was 10°F and each breath of air that passed through his muscular body made Billy shiver and let out small squeaks.

You took the mirror and put it in front of Billy, that mirror he always admired himself. That same mirror he always showed his own body with or without clothes, that same mirror he fucked himself in every time he had the opportunity to make him look at himself while being taken over by his own cum.

His need was palpable just by looking at the lack of attention you provided, but it still seemed that he could come just by looking at your superior figure who watched him with feline eyes, but that would not be possible, since he had a cock ring hugging his phallus.

— Look at yourself, it almost makes me feel sorry for you. — you chuckled softly as you appeared behind him, initiating a calm massage into his tense shoulders. — Away from home, you do all that tough-guy theatrics; but when in four walls, you becomes a bitch. — as you sat on the bed, behind him, he grunts, not wanting to admit that fact. — When you invite me for this, honestly I was so fucking surprised.

— Oh, come on, don't be such a hypocrite. — he said in mockery, crawling on all fours to you feet. — You love that bitch. — he smirked, that stupid smirk you both hated and loved. — It seems that you're the one who gives the theatrics, who talks and talks but doesn't do anything.

— Well, I don't know...

You said it softly, but after an expected silence settled in the place you soon went up him, surprising him. You knew what he was up to, wanting to test your patience by saying degrading things just to get what he wanted, and that's exactly what you would do.

— Don't tease me, you spoiled little piece of shit, unless you don't want my dick up your ass. - you held his jaw tightly, squeezing his dick with your own hip, making him squirm and roll his eyes.

— And if I don't, what are you going to do? Are you going to punish me by not letting me come until you tell me to? — he says sarcastically. — Sooooo cliché, handsome, get better. — he laughs weakly, biting his lips at the lustful look you had, the plan was working, but you knew he would more than love it if the punish was really that.

— No, blond. I'll do worse, that's for sure.

Suddenly Billy's body was pulled hard and slammed against yours. All he could think about was you in front of him and his lips glued to yours, in a desperate kiss of so much waiting. You held his hands, placing them against the floor and holding them tightly, at that point he was already returning the kiss with strong intensity and need. Lips descending, he let out a groan as he felt you kiss the side of his neck, nibbling and lightly sucking the exposed skin.

— I've been waiting for this for so long. - he murmured, the heat of his body rising so quickly, sending you into bliss. He bit back a groan as he felt him press against you, his cock slowly growing bigger and bigger.

— I want to hear you, Hargrove. - you gasped when you felt him rubbing against you. Your lips found their way back to the side of his neck, sucking and biting the skin hard; painting it with hickeys. Your hands roamed Billy's body as moans continued to escape his lips. One of your hands roamed his body, pressing against his cock, and he gasped loudly, eyes opening to meet yours. — And I want to see you dripping for me. - your fingers slowly left him and crept to his thick thighs and placed him ankles on top of his broad shoulders. You licked two of your fingers and drew circles on his throbbing anus, making him give the best possible reaction with a screeching cry.

— Damn, so good, so needy. - you murmured, the other hand caressing your cheek. His words made your mind go blank. Was this really happening now? Billy would finally be yours.

His lips crushed against yours, desperate to taste you, you kissed him back, your hands sneaking into his hair, tugging lightly. He groaned into him mouth at the action, feeling like he was about to explode any second. He nibbled on your bottom lip, his tongue immediately darting in to explore your mouth as he opened for you. You broke away from the kiss when his hand made your ass completely wet, just as you warned. He whimpered, rocking his hips, wanting more and missing your touches already. You laughed, looking at his face full of desperation to be touched. You brought your hand to him face, spreading your fingers.

— Open your mouth, blonde. - you said, with a small smile on face. He hesitated, looking into your eyes. — Be a good boy to me and open up. - you ordered and slowly he opened his mouth, allowing you to stick your fingers inside. His mouth closed around your fingers, his tongue dancing around them, Billy moaned against your fingers as he tasted your saliva. Billy felt like he was on fire, seeing you like that above him completely dominant made him feel like he was in his own dream, was this real? Billy waited so long, staying with other people to get over you, but in the end he never had the courage to give up, it would be you and only you. And then it happened. Now you're there, on top of him, while he's desperate to feel your touches, him, all of him.

— Sir... — he managed to whisper your name, whimpering weakly. Waiting for you to do something instead of just looking at him.

Something in you snapped, hearing him whimper your name made your head spin. You lips found their way back to him, fingers going back to him asshole. He gasped at the sudden action, his back arching with the sensation.

— Let's see how long you can last, blondie. — said, lips moving on him neck. His chapped lips trembled, not just from the cold but pleasure. Anxiety seemed to kill Billy inside, and with each sudden movement he made him more nervous. A ragged breath hitched in him throat as saliva trickled down him chin, joining the sweat that slithered across him body that made him skin gleam in the low light. His glans oozed pre-cum and his hot phallus was extremely swollen from the ring, it looked like it was going to explode at any moment.

Your mouth found its way to his chest, taking one into him mouth, sucking and biting his nipple as your hand tended to the other; pinching and squeezing him. Your other hand found its way back to him anus, pushing two of the fingers inside without warning. He was completely lost in yearning and moaning beneath you, his mind once more confused. He couldn't think straight, his back arched and his body kept squirming. The sensation was overwhelming, he felt your fingers stretching his asshole; curling up inside it. The way you were touching Billy, like you knew exactly what to do to get him submerged, like you knew his body like the back of your hand.

You pushed a third finger inside, tears of pleasure welling up in your blue eyes. The blonde let out a sob as the pleasure became almost unbearable. Tears fell from him blue eyes; and he felt his legs begin to shake as his fingers continued to slide in and out of him. You lifted your head from his chest, looking at him intently, but your fingers never dared to stop.

— Are you feeling all right, blonde? — you asked, your other hand moving to caress him cheek. He nodded yes, unable to form a proper sentence. You clicked your tongue against the roof of your mouth, loving the way he whimpered over you. — Use words, Hargrove. — you stopped completely, your fingers slipping of him ass.

— Yes, sir... — he managed to exhale, wanting you to touch him again. — Keep going, please. — your fingers slowly pushing inside him again.

— You're so good to me, it's right before my eyes, completely overshadowing me. — you continue, chuckling weakly at his sincerity, your free hand running through his curly hair, your lips move to the side of him neck again, planting soft kisses over the hickeys you left earlier.

— Let me hear you. — you ordered between kisses, making sure you was stretching him enough. — Say, stupid blonde.

— Holy fuck, sir! Please keep going. — he whimpered and that was enough to make you completely lose your mind. The groan he let out was enough to nearly push him over the edge. Your fingers slipped out of him, moving to pull your pants down enough to let your hardening cock pop out, making Billy bite his lips involuntarily when he saw your volume.

— Where are the condoms? — with the breath panting and the mind almost without sense, he pointed to one of the drawers, allowing you to do everything. From grabbing the package to stripping off your clothes without a second thought, putting the condom over your completely hard cock, you thrust into him, shocking him enough that a scream escaped his throat, still stunned. You stopped moving as soon as you were fully inside him, your head falling into the crook of his neck, breathing in his strong essence of expensive perfume. Tears streamed down his face from the apologetic shock and the amount of pleasure he was feeling. You whispered sweet nothings in his ear, doing your best to stop yourself from fucking him madly now, forgetting that it's probably been a while since you did it. His arms around your neck, getting used to you inside him.

It didn't take long to you slowly accelerating the thrusts, the lips moving up the side of him neck, once again sucking and biting the already sensitive skin. One of your hands moved to hold him throat loosely. Pleasure made you feel like you were about to slip away, he was a pitiful mess beneath you, eyes rolling again and again. The groans that escaped his mouth made Billy's head explode with desire. The feel of him squeezing you almost drove you crazy, the beautiful whimpers only making you more precarious. Your lips left him neck to find his, knowing he wouldn't last much longer. You could feel yourself getting closer, legs shaking as broken moans were with you. Billy wrapped his legs around your waist, making you press even deeper and faster against him. The cock ring torturing the blonde's cock prevented him from releasing his sperm

— Sir... - was all he managed to say between passionate kisses

— Sshh, it's okay, I'm here. — he gasped in surprise at that sentence. That was it! That's what Billy wanted to hear all the time. You reassured him, knowing that you were reaching your high point too. You let out a loud moan as your orgasm surged through you, the thrusts getting sloppier, losing rhythm. You kept pushing on him, and to help him finish off, you took the ring off with some difficulty and threw it away, making him mentally thank you and sigh aloud with the prominent release, splattering all of your cum onto his own abdomen and feeling your cum hot inside him on the condom.

And coming completely right there, still penetrating him so deep and desperate, you planted one last sweet kiss on his lips before you rolled off him, breathing hard, falling to him side. After some time, trying to catch your breath, you got up, taking off the condom and rolling it up and throwing it in the small garbage nearby. Billy closed his eyes, completely fulfilled, but when he noticed you picking up his clothes, he immediately became nervous.

— Hey, what are you doing? — he asks, getting up quickly.

— Your sister will be home in a little while and I need to work later. — you scoffed, hunting for your clothes.

— But can't you stay just a little longer? — he was almost desperate. — There's pizza in the fridge, don't you want a piece before you go?

— Billy, no.

— But why are you leaving? — he tried to insist, and that only made you angrier. You snorted impatiently as you adjusted your belt buckle.

— Why would you wanna bring somethin' between us? — you turned to him, and that single question made him shut up completely and lower his head, almost tearing up, but he didn't want to appear vulnerable in front of you, even if a few minutes ago you two were fucking. Upon seeing his heavy expression, you sighed and approached him. — Look, It was the only time and if I led you on then I apologize. But there's nothing between us, we barely know each other, Billy. - he tolerated the look and you understood, but however you felt sorry for him, it was necessary. — I loved our night, but... — he cut you off, before he could cry any more.

— Okay, whatever, I don't care. Get the fuck out of my room now. — he sniffed and tried not to look like he was teary-eyed. Somehow, even though this is in your plans, you feel bad for him. You sighed heavily and lightly, walking out the door, feeling Billy's eyes piercing your broad back. And you left without saying anything else, not even a goodbye. And after Billy was one hundred percent sure you were gone, the tears of sadness fell from his reddened cheeks, looking at themselves in their own bedroom mirror, feeling like crap and all lonely.

[dorimena]

I seriously love Bakugou and Todoroki. Especially Bakugou in his tight winter costume in S5. And I love Dom reader and femdom more than a sub. Can I pleaseee request Todoroki or Bakugou where the reader is recording them playing with a vibrator or dildo but get overstimulated because they can't cum from the cock ring because it's their punishments since they forgot their anniversary so reader also forget to stop the toys even if they beg reader to stop in the camera.if you don't mind the request

I don’t mind~ May your sin be forgiven with this prayer (˘⌣˘人) This sounds really, really sexy, so I had a blast imagining and putting this into words.

𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔢𝔯; bakugou katsuki & todoroki shoto

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱; 2.1k

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰; fem!reader, sex toys (dildo, vibrators, cockring), overstimulation, cam sex (recording), exhibitionism, semi-public, dom!reader, sub!character

𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔰; balcony sex (?), threesome, whiny Bakugou, weeping Todoroki, punishment, orgasm denial, aged-up characters, Bakugou and Todoroki are both 20+

𝔰𝔦𝔡𝔢𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔢; Unravel Me by Sabrina Claudio and Fuck Love by XXXTENTACION ft. Trippie Reid somehow helped me piece this together. Sorry if there are any typos! It’s not proofread.

𝕯𝖔𝖚𝖇𝖑𝖊 𝕿𝖗𝖔𝖚𝖇𝖑𝖊

“I-I-”

“W-we! We-”

You watch as both men struggle to speak, trying to ask for forgiveness, once again. It’s the fourth time this hour, the way Bakugou tries to open his mouth wide enough to not slur his words and Todoroki tries to correct Bakugou while keeping himself coherent.

It’s cute how the smartest guys in your life seem to fail miserably in having a decent human conversation

Well, you can’t blame them either, not with the way you keep toying around with the intensity of the vibrators taped to their dicks, cum drying on the toy enough to show anyone who looks up on the balcony that these two men, with such stature and muscles, are easily falling apart.

“Speak better, sweethearts. Can’t have you guys sounding so dumb on camera, right?”

Oh yeah, and you’re even recording them, in case anyone else would want to watch the rising proheros break.

You’re not actually going to show them to the public, but maybe to their friends. Maybe Kirishima would like to watch? Kaminari? Sero? Or maybe Iida? Midoriya?

Heck, the girls might even ask some day.

But you know what makes you curious about showing this video to their friends?

The way both Bakugou and Todoroki are presenting themselves beautifully, as if they’re pro porn stars saving the wanks rather than proheros saving the day.

It’s cute, how Bakugou’s puffing his muscular chest in the air as if they were the juiciest tits ever, which they are, and how Todoroki is somehow sensually humping the air with every buzz against his furious red tip.

Your eyes stay on the screen, making sure the lighting is entering nice enough to make it seem like they’re glowing, other than their post-orgasm glow.

How many times have they come by now?

“Babes, how many times have you cum?”

They both shake their heads.

Of course they wouldn’t know. They just take what they’re receiving. They’re making up for their mistake.

You still pout, tapping the touchable screen to even out the weird lighting as another cloud covers the sun, again.

Maybe giving their punishment out on the balcony wasn’t such a good idea.

As you look down to the floor below them, seeing the once growing puddle of cum slowly be pushed by the wind to trail off towards the side of the balcony, seeping through the small opening and probably dripping feets below is what keeps you positive, happy knowing people will eventually look up and wonder ‘what the fuck is going on?’

Well, either the drying cum gives away your dirty activities or it’s Todoroki’s wailing as an orgasm is ripped out of him forcibly.

Pity nothing comes from his tip, not since some time ago.

They both thought they deserve to cum and be satisfied?

Maybe you should’ve put the cock rings on them before making them come the first two times, but their reactions and frustration with how little some cum leaves or how their body reacts with the dry convulsions makes you giggle in pride.

Pretty babes.

“Todoroki, shut up. You’ll make the neighbors look over- oh! Oh, that’s what you want? I understand.”

And poor Todoroki is just shaking his head way too fast, enough to give him whiplash, but you just snicker as you reach over to a white box.

An unfamiliar white box.

Bakugou’s eyeing Todoroki in pity, wondering what the other will have to endure as he keeps trying to fight off his orgasm.

How he’s doing it, he has no clue. But god his dick hurts.

He’s been wanting to cum for the past 30 minutes, but with the way he resents this stupid cock ring, he’d rather not humilliate himself in front of you and figure out how else to please you.

Maybe he should offer to eat you out?

The way his body is super tense and his breathing is shallow doesn’t escape your attention, less how much pity is showing itself on his face as he shakes his face in disapproval with Todoroki’s recent dry orgasm.

Good thing you invested in this double dildo.

Neither of the boys take notice with how you’re lubing the dildo that looks like it’d belong to you. It’s quite pretty, long and thick enough to hopefully please your boys.

Even if they won’t get to cum.

“Bakugou,” you start, smiling as you watch his once bright eyes suddenly darken as shock takes over his face.

What the

“Fuck is that?!” He yells out, accidentally letting his body relax as it finally submits to the vibrations of the toy, his yell turning into an unbroken series of high-pitched moans, his hips losing control with how incredibly close he is.

“A double dildo, baby. Look! It even looks like if I’d be fucking you two, isn’t that fun?”

Bakugou shakes his head, gasping ‘no, no, no!’ before he falls forward, balancing himself with his palms as he sobs through his first dry orgasm. Maybe he shouldn’t have held back for so long, not with the way his body unforgivably goes through waves of pure unsatisfied pleasure.

Todoroki, meanwhile, is nodding eagerly, eyes welling up in happy tears at the idea of getting fucked, in getting more pleasure and love from you, even if this is meant to be punishment.

But, why are you exposing them like this?

They forgot your anniversary.

Your 3rd anniversary as a throuple, the anniversary Bakugou swallowed his bite and pride to confess to you how much he loves you and how he’s falling in love with Todoroki too; the anniversary Todoroki finally let loose the dam of emotions and even if a bit tipsy, agreed he too was falling in love with both you and Bakugou, how he hasn’t ever felt so understood, so loved, so safe.

So, yeah, how dare they forget?

But if they wanna be dumb, you’ll help with that.

It’s been a while now since you’ve turned off the vibrators and since you’ve prepped them well enough to take the dildo together.

The scene in front of you is gorgeous, ethereal, sublime.

You just want to ruin them like this everyday.

“Aagh! Ugh! F-fuck! Sl-slow do-own! Haaah~”

“S-sorry! ‘m s-sorry! Ca-an’t! Nnah…”

It’s cute watching them argue a bit, how Bakugou can’t take how fast Todoroki is fucking himself back on the dildo while also pushing the toy deeper into Bakugou. And Todoroki doesn’t actually look sorry, not with how his eyes keep crossing everytime he manages to get the toy to hit his sweet spot.

He’s trying so hard to win your forgiveness by putting up with this, but it’s kind of sad knowing you’re not going to stop anytime soon, or take off the cockrings.

Not like they know anyways.

Bakugou might’ve known, might’ve noticed, with the way he’s trying to keep this dragging as slow and steady as possible; with the way his precum is struggling to escape the confines the cockring gives; with how much his red and miserably hard dick keeps jumping with every push Todoroki’s ass gives him.

You’re lounging about, resisting the urge to get off to the scene in front of you, or else they’d start begging to let them please you as apologies, and knowing how sentimental this day is for you, you know you’d immediately give in.

But this is punishment for their forgetfulness.

So, as the cherry on top of this cum covered balcony sex sundae, you’ll also forget about them.

It lasted for a while as you got bored with how neither of them seemed to be reaching another orgasm.

If only the dildo had a vibration option.

But the vibrators still taped on their dicks will have to do.

So you turn them back on, and oh would you look at that! The cockrings could also vibrate.

The pleasure-filled scream coming from Bakugou and the cute, drawled whine of your name Todoroki lets out makes you feel grateful for thinking ahead, kinda.

Now both boys are writhing against each other, different ways to let out their desperations and dying need to properly cum manifesting in either rapid fucking on the dildo to simply submitting to the minstruations of the other party.

To put it in better, shorter words, Bakugou took the reigns in fucking the dildo in such rigor and strength that made Todoroki lay on his chest, ass still up as he simply took everything Bakugou kept pushing into him, mouth opened as hiccups and drool escaped. His eyes settle onto your form, watering as more tears gather on his waterline before dropping to the ground his face is resting on.

It feels so good, so, so good he can’t believe this is punishment. Even if he hasn’t been able to properly cum for some time now, he still thinks you’re being nice with them. Must be because of the anniversary that you sadly reminded them of.

He’s trying his best to push back on the dildo, wanting Bakugou to feel just as good as him, just as fucked as him.

And everytime the toy hits him just right, Todoroki sees stars, feels an all too familiar tingly sensation as he tries to grab his dick, but when you turn the vibrator up even more, his hands just lay on the ground, nails raking as he tries gripping on something, anything.

He really, really, really needs to cum. He wants to cum.

Keep being a good boy for you.

But all he gets is a choked sob of your name leaving his mouth as his eyes roll to the back of his head, eyebrows furrowed upwards as the strongest orgasm takes over his body, he’d be convinced there’s an earthquake happening. Small whimpers of how much it hurts leaves his mouth soon after, his dick twitching pathetically as it slowly becomes purple, barely a dribble of cum managing to escape.

Bakugou is in no good shape either, loudly moaning and crying out how good you’re fucking him, how he’s taking your cock, how good he is being, to please, please, please let him cum.

But actually cum, to let him contaminate the floor even more with his sperm, to let him taste it even, if that would make you happy and forgive him.

He’s close to wailing by now, hips going impossible faster as he forgets all about poor Todoroki riding out his high.

And the moment you turn on the vibrators intensity, he gets dizzy, breath getting stuck in his throat as his brain tries to process the spiraling of his warm, hot orgasm growing too much, burning him everywhere as if it were lava.

Small sparks sound on his fingertips as he howls and gets hurled into his own orgasm, back arching and head thrown back as his eyes roll to the back of his head.

He didn’t even notice the tears rolling down his cheeks, not with how his mind only cares about how good yet bad this orgasm feels.

Not even how loud his high-pitched wails of how good it feels, how much it hurts, is enough to alarm anyone near the radius of this defiling act.

Both boys are left shuddering or twitching through their intense dry orgasm, the way their bodies react with the built up cum in their dicks, with how hot and how wreckless they’re becoming with their quirks.

Still connected with the dildo, neither move, unless it’s some pathetic hump to help drag the orgasm a little more before they try to even remember what letter your name begins with.

Bakugou’s whimpering.

Todoroki’s crying silently.

Both blinking the haze out of their vision as they remember about the buzzing, about the relentless feeling on their really, really sensitive dicks.

Bakugou’s crying now.

Todoroki’s just busy mewling like a slut by now.

And when they both turn to look at you, they gasp so loudly one of them begins choking on air and the other with saliva.

Where’d you go?!

Come back!

And ‘come back’ and ‘forgive us’ is the only thing anyone could possibly hear for the next few hours as they fuck the dildo and let the vibrators do their job in milking more and more orgasms out of them.

If only they’d look closer, they would’ve seen a post-it note stuck on the tripod of the camera telling them you went to the kitchen and that they better come crawling.

Oh well, you’re enjoying the view anyways as you sip on some liquor of your liking, turning off the vibrators as you slowly walk to the balcony.

The sun’s beginning to set. You’re not that cruel in letting them fuck each other in the cold.

The bedroom is much better, and comfier.

Perfect for you to finish the job and let them finally, finally, get their deserving orgasms.

You’ll be sure to milk out

Every.

Single.

Drop.

[es-kay-zee]

Backseat | Lee Know x Reader

genre: absolutely filthy smut

warnings: brat tamer! idol, sub! reader, afab reader, masturbation, choking, hair pulling, marking, handcuffs, pet names, degradation, praise (brief), humiliation, swearing, overstimulation, impact play, oral sex, interfemoral sex, fingering, use of the colour system. this is written under the assumption that all kinky acts performed have been discussed many times prior. consent is important and limits should always be discussed with any partner

requested: nope, this came from my own perverted mind

word count: 5.1k

taglist: @bxngchxn @jisungsplatforms​ @etherealeeknow​ 

a/n: welp, i definitely went overboard on this. count this as my apology for the angst lately. this is absolutely disgusting filth and i hope you enjoy :) this also isn’t proofread (i say like i’ve proofread anything i’ve written) so if you see any mistakes feel free to let me know and i’ll fix it :) also i was kidding when i said i'd finish this at 5am but it's literally 5.03am so that's a bit funny lol

 ____________________

To say you were annoyed with Minho would be only somewhat accurate. Frustrated was probably a better word. He’d been teasing you the entire time you were both out for dinner with your parents, spending a large portion of the time with his hand resting on your inner thigh. His touch had you on edge all night, especially when his fingers would occasionally migrate upwards, slowly stroking at your clothed sex.

He always seemed to do it while you were talking, catching you off guard each and every time. More than once your voice was cut off with a quiet whine and you had to come up with some excuse to your parents. You’re not sure how much they actually believed your measly excuses, but they didn’t question you further, probably not wanting to know what their child was actually up to.

Once dinner is over, and you’ve said goodbye to your parents, you and Minho head towards his car. You don’t speak to him the entire way, frustrated with him for having the audacity to tease you in front of your family. You weren’t truly upset with him, and he was aware of this. You were just embarrassed.

Finally reaching the car, Minho unlocks it and opens the passengers-side door, holding it open for you. But you weren’t about to ignore his earlier actions, wanting to play on your annoyance for one end goal in mind; being pounded into the mattress when you get home. And so, choosing your first act of defiance, you step past Minho and get into the backseat, slamming the car door behind you.

Minho huffs, rolling his eyes at your childish move. He closes the passenger door, walking around the car and climbing into the driver’s seat. The engine rumbles to life and Minho pulls out of the car park, beginning the 30 minute drive to your shared home.

You sit in silence, ignoring the glances from Minho in the rear-view mirror. It’s obvious that your act of climbing into the backseat has irked him, but you want to continue winding him up further. A devilish idea pops into your mind; the perfect way to tease him in return. You finally look forwards, making eye contact with Minho’s reflection. You smirk at him, and his eyebrows knit together in confusion, wondering what you’re planning to do.

You don’t leave him wondering for too long, propping one of your legs up on the car seat next to you, dress rising and putting your underwear clad pussy on display for Minho to see. You watch as his eyes flick downwards, quickly looking back up as he realises what you’re about to do.

“Don’t you dare. You know the rules,” he warns, his voice dark and threatening.

All his words achieve is making you needier. You say nothing, just continuing to stare at Minho in the mirror, as you bring one of your hands down, using your middle finger to rub circles against your clit. The small touch has you whining, the combination of Minho’s earlier teasing and the tense atmosphere in the car mixing to make you extra sensitive.

Your breathing slowly begins to pick up as your arousal grows, beginning to soak through the flimsy fabric of your lacy underwear. Your other hand comes up to your breast, groping yourself over your dress. Minho watches your brazen display, making sure to keep a watch on the road in front of him as well. You partly expect him to speed up, rushing to get you home and teach you a lesson, but he doesn’t. He stays steadily at the speed limit, not even once going over. He wants to drag this out. He wants to see just how far you’ll go with your little act.

And you’re more than willing to show him.

You slide your underwear to the side, quickly sliding one of your digits into your slick walls. Minho adjusts his rear-view mirror, positioning it to where he has a good view of your lower half. He watches the way you pump your fingers in and out of your pussy, curling the digits against your sweet spot. You exaggerate your moans, knowing how much Minho loves to hear you. And all you want is to get him as worked up as he made you.

The hand working on your breast slides down the front of your dress, and you pinch one of your buds, tugging gently before pulling your hand away and sliding it down to your clit. You press the pad of your middle finger against the nub, rubbing against it just as you were before while your other handworks your core. The combined simulation has you nearing your peak, your body beginning to tingle in just the way that it does when you’re close.

Minho swallows, trying to supress his groans at your actions. Your moans rise in pitch, turning into desperate whines as you try to push yourself over that edge and into bliss. You rub faster against your clit, but what is the true catalyst for your release, is the moment you make eye contact with Minho again. His eyes are dark, darker than you’ve ever seen before. And they hold a conflicting look, simultaneously begging to see you cum on your own fingers and warning you to stop breaking the rules.

The moment your eyes meet his in that mirror, you cum, body shaking as you continue fingering yourself through your orgasm, riding out your own high. You only pull your fingers from your fluttering walls once you’ve stopped trembling with pleasure, your body falling slump against the seat. Your heavy pants are the only sound in the car as you recover from your orgasm.

Another thought pops into your head. You’ve already come this far, what’s one more daring act? You bring your slick coated fingers to your lips, staring down Minho as you suck on them. Your tongue dances around your digits as you clean them of all of your juices. Only once your fingers are clean, do you pull them from your lips with a dull pop.

You pull your attention away from Minho, instead facing the window. Your breath hitches as you realise you’re only a few streets away from your shared home. The knowledge that punishment for your daring actions is only minutes away fills you with an excited fear, your pussy already trying clench around nothing.

Minho remains silent, no longer looking in your direction at all as he rounds the final corner before pulling into the driveway. He turns the car off, still not saying anything as he climbs out of the vehicle. He opens your door for you. Part of you want to remain defiant and exit via the other rear door, but you know better. You’ve pushed things far enough. You climb out the door that he’s holding open, swallowing dryly when he closes it gently. His actions are calm, too calm, and your mind whirls with the possibilities of what he has in store for you.

He locks the car and you both walk towards the house. You’re expecting him to do something as soon as the front door closes behind you both, but he doesn’t. He’s still too calm. He hangs the keys up on the key hook and takes his shoes off. You take yours off as well, watching him the entire time for any hint of what’s to come. You get nothing.

He starts to make his way upstairs towards your shared bedroom, and you know to follow him without him even saying or signalling for you to. The walk to the bedroom feels as if it drags on for hours, your heart drumming loudly in your ears, the sound of Minho’s footsteps seemingly echoing off the walls around you. Your hands grow clammy as the nerves truly set in, but more than nervous, you feel excited. This is exactly what you wanted. You wanted the rush that being a brat provides, pushing all the right buttons to get exactly what you want from Minho. It’s been too long since you’ve been absolutely used, and you’re more than ready for the fun that’s about to ensue.

Minho walks into the bedroom, you trailing closely behind. He stops at the door and you step past him. He closes the door, something he doesn’t normally do, and you know you’re in for the time of your life.

“Strip.”

The sound of his voice startles you, the nerves having you on edge. You stare at Minho for a moment, eyes wide while your brain process what he said.

“Don’t make me repeat myself.”

Authoritative. That’s the best word to describe the tone of his voice. Strong, commanding, it leaves no room for arguing, and you find yourself doing exactly as told. Even as your dress hits the floor, lacy lingerie joining it, Minho still doesn’t look at you. Instead, he’s busy rolling the sleeves of his dress shirt up. His movements are languid, lazy, he’s taking his sweet time getting to you.

You sit yourself down on the edge of the bed with a huff, impatience getting the better of you. Even the view of Minho’s exposed forearms isn’t enough to keep complacent for a moment longer, and the sound of your huff is what finally makes him look at you for the first time since you orgasmed in the car.

His eyes are dark again, and it’s as if they bore into your very soul. He takes a step towards your sitting figure, unbuttoning one of his top buttons. If you were to ask him why he undid the button, he’d say it was to allow himself some more breathing room. But you both knew that the real answer is that it’s for show.

He stands directly in front of you and reaches one hand towards you. You flinch back slightly, not knowing what to expect after earlier events. He pauses, waiting for you to move back forwards, and it’s only when you do that he continues moving. He places his hand on the top of your head, gently stroking your hair.

The tug is unexpected. He waits just long enough for you let your guard down before he grabs a fist full of your hair and pulls. Hard. Your scalp stings, but you love it. The yank draws a whimper from your lips, and Minho smirks almost evilly at the sound. He holds you by your hair, head tilted backwards as he stares you in the eye.

“I wonder what I’m going to do with a whore like you,” he says, voiced laced with something akin to feigned sympathy. Pretending to be sorry for you over the punishment that’s instore for you.

“No, you don’t,” you reply, both of you knowing full well that he’s not wondering at all. He has plans for what to do with you, he’d had almost the entire car ride to plan.

“You’re right,” he admits. A small chuckle leaves his pretty lips as he still stares down at you. “Now get up.”

He releases your hair, and you slowly stand up. He switches places with you, sitting himself where you previously were while you stand before him. He taps his thigh with his index finger, and you know what he’s telling you to do. You straddle the toned muscle, lowering your hips until your pussy is resting against the fabric of his pants.

Your hands rest upon Minho’s shoulders while he leans backwards, his arms propping his body upright. You stay still, waiting for his go-ahead before you start grinding against his thigh. He doesn’t give it. Instead, he attaches his lips to the column of your throat, sucking harshly. He drags his teeth against your skin, making you shiver at the sensation. Only when the entire expanse of your throat and chest is covered in marks does he give you the nod to start riding his thigh.

The first drag of your hips has your body shuddering, the pressure against your clit delicious. None of the following grinds feels as good as the initial one, they feel great but it’s just not quite as electrifying. Minho leans forward, bringing one of his hands up to your face. He prods at your lips, prompting you to part them. He slides his index and middle fingers into your mouth, reaching as far back as he can and pressing down on your tongue, aggravating your gag reflex.

You choke on his fingers and all he does is chuckle, sliding his fingers out of your mouth. He moves his hand down, wrapping it around your throat and squeezing. The restriction to your airflow is euphoric, it drives you closer to your release. You adjust your leg, and your knee lightly grazes Minho’s bulge.

Your eyes widen slightly, it hadn’t considered just how hard your actions would make him. He hisses quietly at the accidental contact and you smirk. You know you shouldn’t do it, but what can you say? It’s too much fun being a brat. One of your hand moves south, cupping Minho’s constricted cock. He snaps. His other hand comes up and all you can register is the sting of your cheek seconds after his palm strikes against it. You’re still in slight shock when his grip on your throat tightens and he pushes your body away, forcing you off of him, only releasing your throat once you’ve slipped out of reach.

“Now you’ve broken the number 1 and number 2 rule.” The look in his eyes is lethal, you’ve broken the two most important rules all in one night. That’s a first. Usually, you could eventually persuade Minho to give in to what you want despite being a brat, but you had a chilling feeling that you wouldn’t get your way this time. “Kneel.”

Not wanting to make things worse for yourself, you drop to your knees. You feel small, Minho leaning over you making you feel like his prey. And you absolutely loved it. He grabs your chin between his index finger and thumb, tilting your face up towards him as he leans in close to your face.

“I’m gonna make you wish you were never a brat.”

The words seep into your core, his voice laced with a sweet poison and you know; you have to be good from here on out. It’s not often that just a sentence alone can stop your bratty behaviour for the night, but the way he says the words is nothing short of a warning that you’re not going to get what you want.

“But first, you made a mess on my pants,” he lets go of your chin, allowing you to look down and see the wet patch that your slick left behind on the fabric. “And you’re gonna clean it up.”

Your eyes shoot back upwards to look Minho in the face, unsure of exactly what he means. And he chuckles sinisterly at your confusion, absolutely loving that you don’t know what’s coming.

“Lick it clean.”

Your face immediately begins to burn as the realisation of what he said sets in. He wants you to lick your juices from his pants. You both know that your slick has soaked into the fabric and that you licking it will only cause a bigger mess, but that’s not what this is about. Minho wants to humiliate you. He wants you to be ashamed, for your face to burn in embarrassment as you do something so dirty as licking the mess you created from his pants.

And it’s working.

You’re slow to move closer to him, balancing yourself on your knees with one hand on his clean thigh and the other on the bed next to his other leg. You look Minho in the eye, silently begging him to not make you do something so humiliating, all he does in response is place a hand on the back of your head and roughly push your face closer to the mess. He doesn’t let go until your tongue is pressing flat against his pants, licking a stipe up the pre-existing wet patch. It’s faint, the taste of yourself, but the filthiness of the act has you moaning. You try to keep quiet, not wanting the further embarrassment, but Minho already heard you.

“Pathetic,” he spits out, and you moan again at the degradation.

You continue licking at his pants, and it’s not long before all you can taste is the fabric itself. Minho doesn’t care, however, as he doesn’t signal for you to stop. He’s thriving off of this, you can tell from the twitch of his bulge that he’s loving the sight in front of him. He lets you continue for a few more moments, before pulling your face away by your hair.

“Get on the bed,” he orders, and you do just that, scrambling to your feet and climbing on the bed.

You lie in the middle, your head resting against the pillows as you watch Minho stand up. He crawls up the bed until he’s hovering over you, and you feel so small under him. You’re caged between his arms but there’s nowhere else you’d rather be. You don’t think, just wanting to get this show on the road. You reach up, grasping one of his shirt’s buttons in your fingers. Minho is quick to react, grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head.

“You don’t fucking learn, do you?” He holds your wrists together with one hand, his grip none too gentle, as he glares down at you. You can’t help but cower under his glare, making you feel even smaller.

Without letting go, he leans over to his bedside table, opening the draw and reaching into it. You’re too busy staring at his face to register what he’s retrieving, but when you feel the cold metal and hear the steady clicking sounds of the cuffs closing around your wrists, your attention snaps above your head. He cuffs one wrist, sliding the connecting chain around the metal bar at the head of the bed before cuffing your other wrist.

You tug against the restraint, testing the limits of your reach. The way the metal digs into your skin makes you whimper, but you love it. Minho slowly runs his hands down your sides, groping at your thighs. His fingertips leave goosebumps in their wake, making you shiver in anticipation. He slowly moves his body down your own, until his face is right in front of your dripping core.

He places sloppy kisses to the insides of your thighs, occasionally sucking harshly on the skin before continuing kissing. You moan at the feeling, wanting to tangle your fingers in his hair and bring his lips to your clit. But you can’t. You’re subjected to Minho’s unwavering patience as you’re squirming under him. A harsh smack to the flesh of your inner thigh has you stilling, the small burn of the contact causing you to clench around nothing.

“Stop moving.” He goes back to his teasing touches, and you struggle to remain still. The tension in your lower half building to an almost unmanageable extreme.

“P-please.” The beg leaves your lips before you can stop yourself, and you can feel Minho’s smirk against your skin.

“Please what? What do you want me to do?”

“Please make me c-cum,” you whisper, completely embarrassed to be begging for anything from Minho. You expect him to laugh at you, to tell you that you’re not going to be cumming at all tonight as your punishment for acting up. But he doesn’t. He says something worse.

“Don’t worry, kitten. You’ll get to cum soon enough.”

It’s the way he says it and you finally know what he has planned. Overstimulation. Overstimulation isn’t one of your favourite things. You didn’t particularly love it, nor did you hate it. You and Minho had had the conversation a few times about what sort of punishments are allowed. Overstimulation had come up a couple times as something that you don’t love but can tolerate enough to allow as a punishment. He’d asked you a few times if you were sure, wanting confirmation that you weren’t going to allow something that you didn’t want. You’d assured him, saying that you liked it enough that you’ll let him do it on occasion.

That’s probably why he chose this particular punishment. You’ve been a major brat and while it’s got to be something you at least enjoy; it’s still meant to be a punishment.  

There’s no warning before his lips attach to your clit, immediately sucking harshly against the nub. Your hands immediately try to grip his hair, but they can’t. You whine, trying desperately not to buck your hips up further into Minho’s face as he licks and sucks at your folds.

    The metal digs further into your skin, uncomfortable, barely bordering on painful, but still entirely tolerable. It doesn’t take long. In fact, it’s embarrassing just how quickly he brings you to the brink of pleasure, dangling over the precipice’s edge, ready to tumble over into your second orgasm of the day. Minho keeps you there, dangling off that ledge just because he can. It’s one of his favourite things to do, to make that knot in your stomach tighten impossibly tight but not give you enough to let it unravel.

He’d done this to you so many times, he’s almost perfected his technique. Applying pressure that’s a fraction too soft in a spot that’s a fraction off from exactly where you need it. He loves toying with you, seeing just how far he can push you before letting you cum.

The bedroom is noisy, filled with the clank of the handcuffs’ chain against the metal bedframe, your desperate moans and Minho’s tongue lapping at your dripping folds. All the combined sounds mix together to create a filthy concoction that truly adds to the vibe of the night’s events. It’s arousing. But the only sound you can focus on is your heartbeat thrumming in your ears as Minho finally pushes you over the edge, allowing you to cum. Your eyes squeeze shut, and your body convulses with the pleasure, your orgasm more intense than any you could provide yourself.

Minho’s mouth doesn’t let up, not even after you’ve finally come back down from your high. The tingles of pain brought about by the overstimulation are almost overwhelming, but you don’t want to stop. You’re enjoying this more than you thought you would. But there’s no way you’ll tell Minho that; he’d never wipe the smirk off his face if you did.

He keeps going, adding his fingers to work your walls alongside his mouth. Your back arches, your body non-stop shaking, and by your fourth orgasm, there’s nothing you can do to stop the tears from flowing down your cheeks. Minho looks up at your face, noting the fucked out expression and tear stains, and pauses.

“Colour?” he asks, voice soft and gentle for the first time since dinner.

Your brain is foggy, clouded over as you try to think, contemplating what to respond.

“Y-yellow,” you say, deciding it’s better to give yourself a moment for your brain to clear.

Minho pulls his fingers from your core in response, placing sweet kisses along your thighs, his hands rubbing your sides soothingly while he waits for your go-ahead to continue. It’s a couple minutes before you give him the nod. He asks you once, twice, if you’re sure. The last thing he would ever want is to do something when you’re not ready or don’t want to.

“I’m sure,” you say, smiling at him softly.

“Okay, just one more, kitten. You can do that for me, can’t you?”

Any words you were going to say are immediately replaced with another moan as his lips reattach to your clit, his fingers delving deep into your walls once again. You’re sensitive. Far more sensitive than you’ve ever been before. And the fact that it only takes a minute for you to reach your release again just adds to all the humiliation you’ve experienced in the course of a single evening.

Just as he said he would, Minho pulls away once you’ve recovered from your orgasm, sliding up your body and connecting his lips with yours. His swipes his tongue across your bottom lip before delving into your mouth. You can taste yourself on him and you love it. You moan softly into the kiss, but it doesn’t last nearly as long as you would’ve liked before Minho is pulling away and climbing off the bed. You whine at the loss, but quickly shut up as you watch him finally undress. He undoes his buttons slowly, your eyes following his every move with such desperate desire. He tosses his shirt to the side, quickly ridding himself of his pants and underwear as well. He hisses as the cold air hits his throbbing cock, leaking a small amount of precum. Mentally, he had all the patience in the world to drag this out. But physically he was aching for a release. He climbs back onto the bed, quickly manhandling you so that you’re flipped over, arms crossed at the wrist, further restricting the amount of movement you have. He runs his hands over your ass cheeks, delivering a few well placed smacks to each before gripping your hips tightly. He lifts them up so that you’re laying there with your ass in the air and your face pressing into the pillows.

He reaches a hand down between your legs, gathering some of your wetness on his fingers. He wraps his slick covered hand around his cock, pumping himself slowly, coating his length in a mixture of your wetness and his precum.

“You know, if you’d been good, you’d actually be getting fucked tonight,” Minho says, feigning sympathy.

Your head snaps to face him as much as your position allows you to, your eyes wide as you realise what he’s just said. He chuckles almost sadistically at the look of confusion on your face.

“B-but-”

“No buts, kitten. You know that your actions have consequences.”

You whine at that, but you know better than to argue with him. You know that if you try to talk him into fucking you, then he’ll just make sure you don’t get a dicking down for a whole month. And that would be a nightmare.

He slowly drapes himself over you, holding himself up with one arm while he places his cock between your thighs, resting against your pussy. He uses his legs to push yours together, effectively sandwiching his cock at a pressure he desires. You whine again, your throbbing cunt aching for him to be inside, but you know you’re not going to get it.

Minho slowly begins to thrust, and the drag of his cock against your slit feels better that you expected it to. It feels good, nowhere near as good as if he were actually inside you, but still good nonetheless. He slowly starts to speed up, chasing his high that he’s been putting off all night. The soft grunts that leave his lips are music to your ears. You moan, as much as you love having Minho pounding into you, having him to this is still so much fun.

He continues to thrust, and you can tell he’s already getting close. All the build up to this moment had him painfully hard so it’s no surprise that he’s already near his end. What is surprising, however, is that you’re near your finish as well. You never would have expected his actions to feel this good and it has the knot in your stomach tightening. And Minho can tell from the pitch of your moans.

He adjusts his hips so that he’s rubbing against your slit harder, the head of his cock applying just enough pressure to your clit every time he thrusts forwards. The extra sensation is what does it for you, causing you to cum one final time with a particularly loud moan.

“You’re such a slut, cumming just from this,” he says breathlessly. He’s not far behind you, the feeling of your shaking thighs enough to push him over the edge. He thrusts once, twice more before cumming with a loud groan, burying his face into the back of your shoulder.

He takes a moment to recover before pulling away, slowly standing up and setting about cleaning you up. Your body feels heavy as he moves around you, and you barely notice him carefully unlocking the handcuffs and placing your arms on the bed. Hardly registering him moving you under the covers. He grabs a tissue, quickly wiping his cum from the top of the covers before ultimately deciding to just put it in the washing machine in the morning. He looks at you, smiling at your tired form. As much as he loves having kinky fun with you, he loves this more; being able to see you all sleepy and soft. It’s adorable.

He walks to his set of draws, quietly pulling out a pair of underwear and pulling them on. He turns back to you just as you lazily open your eyes. He heads back over to you, placing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“Cuddles?” you ask quietly, looking at him hopefully.

“Of course, my love. I’ll just grab you a glass of water for the morning and then I’ll be right back, okay?”

You nod and he stands, quickly heading out to the kitchen and rushing back, glass of water in hand. Even though he’s gone for barely longer than a minute, you’re almost asleep when he returns. He places the glass on your bedside table before quickly climbing into the bed next to you. He pulls you into his chest, slowly running his fingers through your hair soothingly.

It’s nice, how peaceful the moment is, and it has you falling asleep in mere seconds. Minho smiles when he hears your quiet snores. He reaches over to grab his phone, being careful not to jostle you too much and he sets himself an alarm for a reasonable time in the morning while still making sure it’ll go off before you get up. He wants to make sure he gets up first so that he can make you breakfast for when you awaken. Only when he sets the alarm and puts his phone back down does he finally allow himself to close his eyes and fall into a peaceful sleep, holding you in his arms.

[onceupona-chaos]

Feathers and dawn

Day 15 of Elriel month/ Explosion of power

The half-wraith gave her friend a feral grin, white teeth flashing against her dark skin, and said quietly in her midnight voice, “Stealthy as a doe.”

Elain matched Nuala’s smile, sending a thrill down Azriel’s spine. “Fierce as a wolf.”

Word count:  3838

Warnings: Language

Disclaimer: This was a huge challenge for me, because English isn't my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes. Part II is coming out on day 18 (I think). Be kind!

“ELAIN!”

Azriel was kneeling on the ground, panting through gritted teeth as he tried not to succumb to that invisible force covering him like a heavy blanket. Whatever spells and wards casted upon that place were draining his magic little by little as if he had been hit by several ash arrows - only ten times worse. 

Even with the cold rain soaking him, the raindrops like ice needles against his skin and wings, he managed to fix his eyes on the cave, scanning and scanning through the dark dots that were beginning to form, trying to see something, anything. 

But the cave was as dark as the sky above him. A never ending darkness that seemed to swallow any blue light from his almost drained Siphons.

His shadows detected nothing. Not a whisper, not a move, no sign of her. 

After Elain had disappeared inside the Cave and his shadows couldn't get a reading, he had immediately sent Nuala to get Rhysand whilst he tried to find a way in. But he couldn't pass the wards just like his shadows couldn't sense her.

When a female scream echoed from inside the cave, Azriel couldn't breathe, couldn't think. Pure, clear panic was all he knew.

When he had been summoned to the river house in the morning, not in his five hundred years he’d expected it to turn out like this. 

 Shit. Shit.

________________

Azriel hadn't been able to sleep for more than a few hours, and even so dreams and nightmares made him roll in his bed the entire time. He’d  been awake for hours, staring at the two Solstice gifts he’d got from her when dawn came. And with it, Rhys’ orders. 

He made a point not to arrive earlier than he needed, so he wouldn’t be - couldn't be -  in the same place as her longer than necessary. Keeping his distance when he wasn't at the river house was torture enough, but being in the same house and still feel as if they were at opposite edges of the same abyss…  

And yet when Azriel landed outside the river house, his shadows quickly whispered in his ear that Rhysand wasn't alone in his studio. 

The warning did nothing to stop his body from stiffen when he stepped through the door, the illusion of a meeting only between him and his brother quickly dissipating, and his eyes shot straight to the window - and there she was.

He didn't know if it was the lilac dress or the sunlight casting through the window, but her eyes were almost the color of pure honey. But something was off, her usually open expression was stark and hard, and then he noticed the pallidness on that beautiful face and the faint black bruises under her eyes. Even though he knew his face was the portrait of boredom, his shadows swarmed him, sensing his unease.

Azriel made his eyes move to where Amren was sitting crossed-legged, her petite body almost hidden beneath a white fur coat. Feyre cradling Nyx in her arms was sitting next to Rhysand, the baby soundly asleep, warm against his mother's chest. 

Azriel looked back to where Elain was, her shoulders tensing a bit as if she could sense his gaze on her even when she was peering through  the window, and he knew she was deliberately avoiding looking at him. It was only a stolen glimpse from his part - Azriel was well aware of Rhysand's violet eyes on him, almost daring him to disobey his orders. 

Azriel made the boiling rage cool down, kept his face carefully blank, his mask of cool boredom still in place whilst he faced his brother, lifting an eyebrow in question. 

Amren, on the other hand, didn’t bother to mask her impatience. “We’re waiting, Rhysand.”

The High Lord of The Night Court nodded to Elain, and Azriel felt his body stiffened once again. Rhysand announced, "It looks like we have another Made object to worry about.”

Silence.

Azriel’s blood went cold in his veins. He asked quietly, "How would you know?"

Elain didn't give many details. But she emphasized it was more of a sense than a normal vision, as if she could smell a storm coming but the skies remained clear. As if she could hear an ancient whisper in the wind. She wasn't sure what it was until last night - when  something long forgotten had presented itself in a dream. Azriel was well aware of what kind of objects could call for someone like that.

“What is this object?” Feyre asked.

Elain replied, “I… I can’t See what it is.” Azriel tracked the way she swallowed. “It’s veiled in shadows. Hidden among the silence itself."

Nodding more to herself, Amren said, "Whatever this is, it wants to be found at last.” She narrowed her eyes at Elain’s direction. "It's calling for you, girl."

Azriel's shadows gathered even closer, sensing his concern. He remembered of Oorid, how Nesta’s body shook after she retrieved The Mask. For Elain to be exposed to the same danger…

And yet, he couldn’t - wouldn’t interfere. He knew how much each choice Elain got to make was precious to her. She’d told him that herself on one of those nights in front of the fireplace. Her eyes had been filled with a mix of sadness and hope as if she still could feel her own choices slipping through her fingers as if they were grains of sand. 

He had only stared at her back then, imagining how it had been like for her going into the Cauldron - and then spending months trapped in her own visions to the point she couldn't tell dreams and reality apart. So he'd kept silent, let his understanding rise to the surface so she could see it and watched as her body relaxed under his gaze.

So different from now when she looked in every direction except his as she watched the harsh argument, Amren insisting vigorously that Elain should go look for the object. 

That explained why Nesta wasn't there, why Rhysand hadn't asked him to fly her down.

Whilst Cassian was in Illyria for an inspection of the aerial legions, the priestesses had recently received another female. Nesta didn't so much hesitate in wanting to help her the way she could and have been spending more time than usual at the library. But not to tell her, to keep this away from her… 

"Does Nesta know about this?", Azriel cut in.

"She would take this task for herself." Rhysand didn't even bother to look guilty. "And if it's calling for Elain, we can't risk sending anyone else, even if she chooses not to go. It could end very badly."  

"Maybe Nesta would be right to hesitate to send Elain,"  Azriel argued back, violet eyes narrowing. "Either way, that doesn't justify not telling her."

Feyre was glaring at her mate, undoubtedly saying something in his head, as if they had that discussion before. Many times. 

But before she could say anything out loud, Amren cut in, "It's not calling for Nesta, boy."

Azriel's voice was cold as ice. "Do not forget that we already kept information from her before." 

Amren didn’t even have time to open her mouth - to disagree or snarl, Azriel didn't know - before Elain stood up from her seat at the window, "That’s enough."

They all twisted toward her, brows raised. The only sound in the room now was the soft rustle of Nyx delicate wings.

Elain looked at Rhys, eyes sharp but voice even. "You of all people should know what it is like to want to protect those who you love and that is no excuse for keeping things from Nesta." Sadness coated her expression. “Not again, Rhys.” 

This time, Rhys had the decency to look at least guilty. Ferey intervened, "I'll tell her this afternoon. I want Cassian there, too."

Elain nodded. "I'm not a child for anyone to decide for me. If it's calling for me, I won’t run away.” She said squaring her shoulders, never looking away from her older sister, who was just about to say something. "And I am not asking for permission." 

And her posture, her words, her tone were so fierce, those large caramel-brown eyes flickering while she studied them all and Azriel knew that she’d do whatever was necessary to help this court. 

A  reminder that the Archeron sisters were forged by the same fire.

Azriel's chest ached with pride - and terror. Terror for her. But he pushed aside those instincts that were screaming to keep her safe, to not let her near any danger, and asked at last, "Then how do we find it?"

_________________

In a matter of minutes, Elain was sitting before a map, her eyes shifting beneath her lids as if she could See the entire world. Everyone was watching her as she searched for the right place, the one that appeared in her dreams - so Azriel used the moment to admire her.

Beautiful. She was so beautiful, he could admire her for the rest of his days in the same way he looked at the rising sun.

Elain’s hand hovered over that map, the creamy, soft skin marked by small scars, her delicate fingers were calloused, no doubt from her gardening. She cocked her head, as if listening to those whispering to find the right path. Azriel could’ve sworn the room was getting warmer.

She let a finger down and opened her eyes. For a second it looked like a faint golden glow shone behind the familiar brown, just like one could see the faelights behind a piece of glass, but then Elain blinked a few times -  and it faded away.

 "Here," she said.

Feyre sighted deeply as she cupped Nyx’s head as if she could protect him from her very words. "Of course it's in the Middle."

______________________

Nuala didn't ask any questions. She'd only showed up in the afternoon as they had agreed, passing right through the wall. Elain appeared a second later, opening the door and almost scrambling Azriel's brain cells to the point of uselessness. 

Her hair was braided behind her head, a blue surcoat, similar to the one she wore in the war, reached the middle of her thighs. It wasn’t Illyrian leathers, but the slits in the lower part of the surcoat  combined with her leather pants did absolutely nothing to hide her curves and the color made her skin look almost golden.

His shadows brightened as if to let him see all of her more clearly. He knew he was staring, that he should say something about them going somewhere, but he couldn't even remember his words. When Feyre had suggested he accompany Elain, he’d made his best to not look at Rhys, to just naturally nod in agreement. 

Rhysand wouldn't say a word about Solstice. Not in front of Feyre, that is.

But that didn't stop his High Lord to make Nuala play chaperone with a bullshit excuse that her gifts might end up being useful in the place they were heading to and her friendship with Elain could help. 

The message was crystal clear.

Azriel's eyes dropped without his acknowledgement to her lips, those sweet lips he had been so close to taste. He heard someone coughing, but his mind didn’t register the sound.

When he finally realized he was staring, he quickly snapped his eyes to hold her gaze. Despite the faint pink coloring her cheeks, a flicker of amusement sparkled in Elain’s expression.

Behind him, someone cleared their throat. 

Azriel ignored the smirk curving Feyre’s lips just like he ignored Nuala’s amusement, trying his best to contain the heat spreading across his cheeks at the thought of them watching the staring contest between the two of them.

Finally Nuala decided to put him out of his misery and asked, "Shall we?".

________________

By the time the swirl of shadows disappeared, Azriel was half distracted by the feeling of Elain's small hand in his. But the moment Azriel was able to have a good look at the place before them, he felt the hair on his arms rose. 

A deep forest was revealed, huge, gigantic trees side by side, making him feel the same size as Amren. Nuala let go of his other hand and almost unconsciously he tightened his grip on Elain's as she looked wild-eyed at the view before them.

As if one could call it that.

Where the forest should be rejoicing with life, there was none. Not a single leaf remained in those trees, the naked branches curling above the small, meandering trail like black claws. There wasn't a single animal or insect anywhere beneath the dark gray sky, making the atmosphere grievously melancholic. 

No light, no life. A place of utter sadness, as silent as Death.

"I've seen worse." Nuala's midnight voice was almost a whisper, but still reverberated like a thunder in that deadly silence, her attempt of being playful covered by the tenseness in her tone.

Azriel studied Elain, who swallowed before saying, "Me too." Her face was cautious, tight. She cocked her head as if heading some inner voice.

He asked, "Can you See where it is?"

She gently let go of his hand, blushing a little as if she had just realized they were still touching. "No, not See it" She said, scanning the forest. "But I can hear it."

"The shadows don't hear anything," Nuala said, moving to be at Elain’s side. “Do you remember what we discussed?”

Elain nodded.

“Once we enter the forest, watch your steps and try to walk toe to heels most of the time. Listen carefully to our breathing,” Nuala said, gesturing to her and then Azriel, who was watching the scene with raised brows. “And match yours with it always. Be as quiet as you can.” 

To his surprise, Elain just lifted a brow at the command in Nuala’s tone, who gave her a Look. “I’m serious, if you can help it, do not make a sound in this place.” The half-wraith gave her friend a feral grin, white teeths flashing against her dark skin and said quietly in her midnight voice, “Stealthy as a doe.”

Elain matched Nuala’s smile, sending a thrill down Azriel’s spine. “Fierce as a wolf.”

And then they walk right into The Silent Forest, living an almost dumbfounded Azriel behind.

_________________

They had been walking for what it felt like hours now. 

Even with his five hundred years worth of daily training, Azriel could feel his strength being drained slowly as if a heavy hand was pushing them back. With every step he took, it was like the forest itself, every single inch of that damn forest, didn’t want them there.

He kept his wings tucked in tight while eyeing their surroundings, once or twice he saw what seemed a glimpse of eyes watching them. The children of The Silent Forest. He could only pray for them to get the hell out of that place before sunset. 

Nuala seemed just as uncomfortable. Shadows gathered around her like a veil of darkness as if they could shield her from that invisible force, even though she was holding Elain’s hand now. 

Elain, who did not balk. She just kept walking, stopping sometimes along the way, her head cocked as if she could hear an inner voice luring her into the right direction until, at some point, Elain left the small forest trail to venture in an invisible path between the trees. 

More than once Nuala looked at Elain and smirked, causing a blush to spread across Elain’s pale cheeks.  

Despite the circumstances why Nuala was there, Azriel was grateful for the female attempts to distract Elain from her visible, growing tension. So he kept a few steps behind, offering the two females some privacy.  And when the temptation of using his shadows to know the cause of that blush crossed his mind, which was every five minutes, he pushed it aside and tried to focus on the surroundings or on the infinity, dark sky above them. With the sun almost down, the charged clouds waltzing through it in a promise of desolation.

They kept walking against that invisible force, almost unbearable now until… there. Azriel stiffened.

Deep in the forest, where the darkness seemed to unfold out of it, the entrance into a cave opened as if it was a path to another world, one made of Darkness and nothing more.  

Azriel’s shadows whispered to not go further. 

Nuala seemed to sense the same thing. "It feels… so wrong.” Her voice was quiet, but it seemed to be swallowed by the cave as if it was greedy to devour any sound, any light. 

“Strange,” Elain whispered back, brows furrowing. “It doesn’t feel like that to me.”

Azriel looked once again at the sky. They didn’t have much more time before night - and the beasts - came. He was almost suggesting to turn around, maybe they could convince Rhysand to come along. 

"I’ll be right back."

It took a moment to her words sink in, to Azriel make sense of what had just come out of Elain’s mouth. Elain, who was already moving. Elain, who was already walking towards the cave, getting closer with each step. 

Azriel moved out of sheer instinct, rushing forward to grab her hand, but again that damn force was pushing him back now. He flared his wings, trying to find some balance to keep going. "Elain," he snarled. 

She paused right before the entrance and looked back at him,  "I can hear its calling, it won't hurt me.”

Azriel was breathing hard, so lost on his mind that he didn’t realize the rain soaking him. He didn't like that one bit. He wanted to reach her, put his arms around her and shot to the skies. But he only unsheathed Truth-Teller and offered it to her. Elain bit her lip and walked back.  

He pressed his dagger to her hands, their eyes meeting - just like he had done once. Elain didn't hesitate this time. “Just…” He took his hand, trying to find the words. And there were so many words. “Come back," he said at last. A request and a prayer.

Elain squeezed his fingers and looked at Nuala before turning around. Azriel tracked every breath, every movement she made. His shadows speared toward the cave, watching over Elain, until darkness swallowed her. 

He was still monitoring her through his shadows, Nuala by his side. None of them dared to speak - not that he wanted to. Nuala worked as his spy long enough to know he kept to himself. His shadows were still curling around his neck to whisper in his ear.

Then, they became silent. As silent as they could be as they lost Elain’s track.

The screams came not long after she disappeared. 

______________________

"ELAIN!"

The female scream was still echoing in Azriel’s ears, his own panic was a fog he couldn't see through. He tried to use his Shiphons, but whatever twisted magic ruling that place, it could not be affected. 

And Elain was there somewhere. 

So Azriel lunged forward  - to be pushed back by that invisible form. He felt a tentacle of darkness grab him, sinking its talons deep in his very bones, sucking on his killing power.

He turned to Nuala, who was trying to summon her own shadows, to see beyond the darkness. “Go back, right now and bring Rhysand.” Her face drained of color. “Now, Nuala.”

“I won’t leave her.”

“That’s an order," he snarled.  

She looked back at the cave, before assuming her shadowy form and ran back, passing directly through the trees in her way. 

Fuck. Seven Shiphons never felt so powerless. He could only imagine what the hell was happening, ancient spells and wards, casted by god knows what kind of creatures and now Elain - Elain - was there and -

Think. He needed to try to calm the hell down and think. He was always planning, always calculating, that was his fucking job.

But he couldn’t think. Those talons thigned, more and more. He felt his magic leaving him slowly.

And then everything stopped.

When he  looked through the raindrops once more to the cave, - 

Elain’s head broke the darkness first. A solemn expression printed on her beautiful face and her eyes... they glowed. Nothing like Nesta’s silver fire, nothing like Amren’s once were, but gone was the familiar chocolate brown that Azriel had lost himself in it more times he could count, replaced by a light of white and golden. As if the sun itself was behind her skull and, just like that, the air in the forest grew hotter, wave after wave of heat crashing through him, his own strength being restored. He was only half-conscious about the dark forms of beasts older than Darkness who lived there in absolute silence, that now ran from that promise of light.

And in her hands… a small golden orb.

Any trace of that unholy darkness was gone as Elain stepped closer and on her back... the hair on Azriel arms rose, pure awe ran though his body. A pair of beautiful, strong, powerful wings, covered in feathers, each one white as snow, gleaming and glowing as if they have been sewed with golden thread, perfectly matching her otherworldly eyes. They seemed impermeable despite the water running down, like they were covered by a protection layer where drops glittered under starlight, similar to pearls. 

Azriel only stood there, drinking her image and memorizing it as she walked toward him. For she was something from dreams, from tales as old as the forest around them. 

Sweat began to run down his back, between his wings, in great rivers and in that moment she was the sun itself. Her face was sheer power, so luminous that radiated from her, warming the world, and he knew that despite the heavenly glow, she could release hell upon them all with nothing but a blink - no kindness, no mercy whatsoever.

Despite the heat, he did not flinch, did not so much as move. This was different from the fire that gave him his scars, a constant reminder of hate and fear. Whatever that fire was made of, this was something else entirely. 

It was the warmth of firelights on Solstice nights with his family, of spring days when he would sunny his wings. The warmth of Nyx’s laughter, of Elain’s smile. He wanted her closer, wanted to slide his arms around her and let her light cast through him until the darkness of his very soul faded away. For she was light, always have been. And for someone who is lost in the dark, light is salvation. 

Slowly Elain stepped out of the cave. The moment she crossed the dorway, after a few steps, that light dimmed, her wings dropped as if she couldn't sustain its weight any longer. Azriel saw when her hands tightened around the orb, bringing it to her chest. She blinked and every trace of light disappeared, her beautiful face was now mortal - and pale. 

Caramel-brown eyes met hazel ones before rolling back into her head. Azriel only had time to catch Elain in his arms before she could collapse on hard rock.   

[peaxhcringe]

Missing You

pairing: Akaashi x Fem! Reader

genre: Fluff

warnings: slight nsfw towards the end  

word count: 3.7K

summary: Y/n misses her boyfriend, Akaashi, so she goes to his house while he’s away, only to fall asleep in one of his hoodies. 

A/N: I’m not sure if I really wrote his character well enough, but I tried my best. I also didn’t have anyone to proofread this so there may be some mistakes and I apologize if there is. There may also be a part 2 of this in the future, but for now enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your e/c eyes examined the white ceiling of your bedroom, tracing out every bump that sat on the white paint. The humming of the small fan filling your ears, cool air blowing around you, gently brushing some stray h/c strands to graze against your face.    

You close your eyes, the warmth of your bed sheets giving almost the perfect amount of comfort. As you begin to slip into a trance-like state, the familiar ‘beep’ of an incoming text rings in your ears. Your hand darts towards the phone, squinting as the glowing screen shines in your eyes. A smile spreads across your face as the familiar contact name of your boyfriend, Akaashi, appears on the screen. 

My Setter <3 

  Goodnight Y/n, I miss you 

  I’ll be back home in a couple of days in time for your birthday, I promise 

Your heart jumps at the usual goodnight text from him, the text never failing to make you miss him more.

  Goodnight baby <3 

  I miss you more :( 

Once the message sends you lay the phone back onto the bed, turning around, facing the plain grey wall of your room. The absence of Akaashi made the room feel a little more lonely, your heart lurching at the thought. 

Akasshi was currently on his 4th away game with his team and has been gone for almost 9 weeks. You were proud of him and his team for getting allowed to go to so many games, but a part of you was a little upset. Letting out a small sigh, sleep leaving you as thoughts of Akaashi replaced the tiredness. 

Rolling onto your back, glancing over to the window to see Akaashi’s darkroom, the ceiling fan slowly spinning. You close your eyes for a few seconds before sitting up, unplugging your phone, and leaving your bedroom. 

Slipping on a pair of shoes, you make your way over to Akaashi’s house. Raising your hand slowly, you place a light knock onto the door, staring down at the ‘welcome’ mat. You raise your head as a small click fills your ears before the door opens, light flooding out onto the ground.  

“Oh Y/n, what are you doing here? Keiji isn’t back yet” Akaashi's mom asks politely, her hand resting on the door as she smiles at you

Looking up at her, your hands fidgeting with the hem of your shorts, still nervous to speak to her although you've seen the woman many times before. She looks down at with a smile, nodding silently 

“Come on in sweetheart” She speaks quietly, inviting you in “You aren’t bothering us, dear, if that’s what you’re worried about,  you’re practically family” She continues, stepping aside, giving you enough room to walk in  

“Thank you,” You say quietly, passing her, the sweet soul of vanilla from the candles she had lit filling your nose  

Quietly, you take your shoes off placing them close to the door as she closes it, locking it once again. 

“If you need anything dear just let you know, I’ll be down here” She speaks again with a smile, before making her way into the living room  

You smile at her and nod, before making your way up the carpeted stairs, heart racing as you reach Akaashi's door. Reaching your hand to the golden knob, turning it and you open the door. Moonlight shining through the room, giving the entire area a soft calm glow. 

Your eyes wandered around to his neatly made bed all the way to the desk that sat in front of the bed, smiling a bit as you could make out a small picture frame sitting on the desk. 

The picture was from a couple of months ago back in April when you, Akaashi, and Bokuto, all went to go see the cherry blossoms. It was originally going to be a date just between the two of you, but Akaashi agreed to have Bokuto tag along. 

 You and Akaashi walked hand in hand, your eyes wandering to the other couples that would pass by. Each couple walking hand in hand or arm in arm, a smile spreads across your face as you give a light squeeze to Akaashi's.  Bokuto leisurely walks next to you, cracking jokes every now, giving you a good laugh.  

“Keiji, can we take a picture here?” You proposed, looking at him with puppy eyes, your head tilted to the right  “I want one picture, please?” 

His eyes drifted over to the large beautifully designed stone archway. Cherry blossoms gently floating down to the ground around it, before his eyes met yours again 

“Sure Y/n” He spoke with a nod earning a small sequel from you 

Turning to Bokouto, you pulled your phone out, handing it to him 

“Can you take the picture? Please?” You asked with a smile 

His golden eyes looked at the phone before speaking 

“Only if I get a picture as well” 

Letting out another small laugh before nodding

“Of course Bokuto” 

A large smile grew on his face before he took the phone, motioning for you to go where Akaashi stood. Running up to him, latching your fingers with his and standing in front of him, staring up into his blue eyes. Tilting your head up slowly, your e/c eyes locking with his, a soft breeze blowing through the air, sending a couple of petals towards the both of you. You turned to stand by his side, one hand still tightly wrapped around his as the other dropped to the side. Bokuto raised the phone, turning it sideways, his tongue poking out as he made sure the picture was in focus. The gold and white phone case pointed towards you, the number ‘5’ written in black visible through his hands. 

 Your eyes glanced over to Akaashi, a smile on his face as he looked towards the camera. Letting out a small giggle as you make a split decision, standing your tiptoes, kissing Akaashi's cheek. The click of the camera rang in your ear as Bokuto took the picture at the perfect time. A blush spread across Akaashi’s cheeks before he looked down at you, sticking your tongue out at him before running over to Bokuto.  A small laugh came from Akaashi as you ran to check the picture. 

Smiling at the thought, you stepped into his room, closing the door with a small click. The faint skill of his cologne filling your nose, sending a wave of comfort through you.  Quietly, you made your way over to the neatly made bed.  The white quilt spread across the bed, two pillows lightly placed on top of it. You carefully pull the quilt back a bit, giving you enough room to slip into the bed.

 Taking your phone out of your pocket, laying it gently on the bedside table, before getting into the bed.  A small cream filled your ears as you settled onto the bed, the cool sheets sending a chill through you. Turning to lay on your side, you looked out his window, staring at the stars that shined brightly in the dark sky. 

You smiled before another chill went through you, goosebumps rising on your exposed skin from the shorts. Your eyes run around the room before pulling the sheets back, sitting up with another creak of the bed. You make your way over to a chair that sat in the corner of the room, reaching your hand down, and picking up a large black hoodie. The hoodie was one that he wore all the time, a large number 5  printed on the back with his name above written in white. 

Smiling to yourself, quickly pulling the hoodie over you, easily covering you, stopping above your knees. The warmth of the fabric and the strong smell of his cologne with a hint of his coconut shampoo sending another chill through your body. Nodding to yourself, before turning around and getting into his bed, pulling the hood over your head to keep your hair from getting all tangled.

Grabbing the other pillow that laid on the bed, pulling it closer, wrapping your arms around it as if it was a person. Laying your head on the pillow, breathing in the fragrance of the hoodie, your eyes began to close, sleeping slowly following suit.

*Akaashi POV*

Akaashi let out a quiet yawn as he walked through the front door of his house, the bag he carried finally feeling heavy after carrying it for almost an hour. Closing the front door behind him, he slipped off his shoes, not noticing the other pair of familiar shoes that sat by the door. Letting out another yawn, he pulled out his phone out, checking to see if there was any new messages from you

My Love <3

    Goodnight baby <3 

   I miss you more :( 

Akaashi smiled to himself, before making his way up the stairs with another yawn. 

Although the away game ended quicker than the team expected, Akaashi was still rather exhausted from having to keep Bokouto under control. He quietly opened his door, setting the bag down next to the frame, before stepping in and closing it behind him. Reaching  his hands up into the air, stretching, cracking his neck before letting his hands fall back down to the side. 

Walking over to his bed, he froze, his eyes winding as he noticed a figure laying in his bed. The figure's arms, wrapped tightly around one of his pillows and their chest moved. 

Taking a step closer, a smile appears on his face as he sees the beautiful face of his girlfriend, Y/n,  sleeping peacefully. Akaashi's heart skips a beat as he scans her face, her long lashes brushing against her cheeks, the large hoodie she’s wearing lightly pushing a few h/c strands into her face. 

Bending over, reaching  his hand out, he brushes a few strands out of her face. Y/n's eyes fluttered open, before closing again, a soft sigh escaping her mouth as she cuddles her head further into the pillow. 

Akaashi lets out a small laugh before turning around and taking off the Fukurodani jacket, placing it on his desk. Standing by the bed, he takes in Y/n's soft appearance  watching as her chest rose and fell gracefully, her mouth opened slightly as she hummed in her sleep. 

Moving carefully, he climbed over her figure trying his best to not wake her. Softly he lifts her arm, pulling the pillow out of her grasp before replacing it with his body, her arms instantly grabbing onto his waist. Her head pushed into the crook of  his neck, her warm breath sending a chill down Akaashi's spine as her fingers grip onto his shirt. 

“What am I to do with you?” He mumbled into her hair, the smell of her shampoo filling his nose 

One of  his  hands moved to the hood that covered her face, lightly pulling it off of her head. Her h/l h/c framing her face as the fabric of the hood frizzed up her head. Akaashi's hand moved into her hair, taking a couple of strands between his fingers, slowly twisting it. The soft almost silky feeling of her hair and the warm breath that blew on  his neck slowly lulling him to sleep. 

                                                 *******************

“Keiji!!” 

Akaashi's eyes shot open, the sound of someone saying - well yelling- his name waking him up. The soft mattress shifted before weight was placed against his chest. 

Looking down at his chest, he noticed Y/n laying on him, her arms wrapped around his neck as she breathed into his chest. The large black hoodie she wore, covering her body almost completely. Lifting his right hand, lightly placing it on the crown of her head, brushing away a couple h/c strands from her face. 

“Good morning,” Akaashi says groggily, tiredness still hung in his voice, from his only 5 hours of sleep

Y/n's head shoots up to from his chest, a large smile growing on her face as she squeezes him tighter 

“When did you come back?! You’re supposed to still be away”  She questions, sitting up slightly, her head tilting to the right like a puppy 

The sun shined brightly in through the bedroom window, illuminating the room in a soft orange glow, giving Y/n’s eyes an even more radiant shine. The way her head tilted allowed the sun to hit her in an almost angelic way, making Akaashi's heart skip a beat. 

“I came back last night,” He replied, his eyes grazing over her face. “Did you want you to be gone longer?” He asks with a small chuckle, before Y/n hugs him again 

“No! I’m glad you’re back so early” She mumbled, her breath tickling his neck as she speaks 

Letting out a small laugh, he places both of his hands on her back, rubbing up and down slowly as he takes in the scent of the hoodie she wore

“Are you wearing your hoodie?” He ask, as he finally really notices one of his black hoodies covering her body all the way to the middle of her thighs 

Y/n lifts her head out of his neck before look at him,pulling the long sleeves down her arms she fiddles with her hands 

“Y-yeah, you don’t mind do you?” She asks quietly, looking away for a couple of seconds before her eyes met let his again, his hands moving from her back up to her arms

Just as Akaashi's opens his mouth to speak Y/n's voice interrupts him 

“I really missed you a lot last night so I came over, but I got co-” Before she could finish he moved his hand up to to cup her face, and gently pulling her down

Y/n’s hands lightly placed themselves on Akaashi's chest, the warmth of her hand radiating around him. He held her head level with his, their foreheads almost touching as he looked into her e/c eyes. Y/n’s warm breath brushed against his hands as they rested on her flushed cheeks, the tips of his fingers placing themselves in her soft hair. 

“I don’t mind,” Akaashi said quietly, lifting his head off the pillow, lightly kissing Y/n’s forehead, before laying back down “Did you really miss me that much?” He ask, her eyes moving away from his to look down at his chest, his hands moving from her cheeks back to her waist 

“Yes, I thought I’d be fine, but I missed you a lot,” She answered, a small pout on her face

Akaashi’s eyes scanned her face, her e/c eyes almost in a trance-like state while they moved along his chest, his fingers lightly tapping against her waist. 

“I missed the way you looked at me” Y/n spoke shyly, her eyes locking with his again,  

Her hand moved up from his chest to his cheek, lightly swiping her thumb across it “and how you stare at me when you think I look beautiful” 

Her face leaned closer to his, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek then another to his nose. Her h/c hair framing her face, grazing against his, as she pressed a couple more tender kisses on his face, missing his lips every time. A soft smile stayed on her face as she moved away from him, sitting back on top of him. 

“I missed the way your hands held mine” She stated, taking one of his hands from her waist and placing it into hers, her thumb rubbing across his knuckles “And how they feel on me” 

His eyes followed her movements as she brought the back of his hands to her lips, placing a gentle kiss across them. The feeling of her warm touch on his hands making him notice how much he missed her. His breath nearly caught in his throat as he watched her eyes flutter close before slowly opening again 

“Y/n,” He  began, only to be cut off once again by her 

“I missed your voice,” Y/n spoke, quietly, the pout that once appeared on her face replaced with a smirk “And the way you tell me that you love me” 

She slowly let go of his hand, before placing hers back onto his chest. Her h/c lightly moving from the air of the ceiling fan that spun around, goosebumps appearing on his arms as the breeze surrounded them. 

“I missed your cuddles” Y/n continued, leaning down, his hand moving back to her waist, keeping her steady “ and the way I feel safe in your arms” 

Her head lightly rested on his shoulder, her warm breath sending a chill through his body. His hands tightening a little against her waist as she breathed against the soft skin

“I missed the way you smelled” She spoke, her nose brushing against his neck as she lifted her head, his breath catching in his throat 

Akaashi tries to keep his breathing steady as she speaks, her soft voice slowly becoming lower as she starts to whisper. 

“I missed,” She began slowly, her lips grazing against the base of his neck, her voice low as she continued “the way you tasted”

Y/n’s soft lips finally met his neck, placing a soft, almost barely noticeable, kiss to it. Akaashi’s eyes briefly close, as she began to place soft open mouth kisses along his neck. His breath hitching in his throat as her teeth grazed a sensitive spot on his neck. 

He felt her smile against him, before biting that spot, drawing out a low groan from him. Her hands gripped his shirt as she began to bite a little harder, surely enough leaving a hickey in her wake.  She let out a soft giggle as he felt her tongue run against the skin, before her lips moved from the spot, slowly kissing up his neck. Her nose grazing against his jaw again as she lifted her head away from his neck 

“But most importantly” Y/n spoke, leaning forward, eyes glancing down at his lips 

One of her hands moving up from his chest, her fingertips running gently along his jaw, before stopping underneath his lips. Y/n’s eyes grew darker, as they scanned his face, his eyes never once leaving hers. Akaashi watched as her tongue darted from her mouth, running along her lips before her thumb delicately brushed against his bottom lip.

“I missed your kisses” She whispered, almost barely audible as his heart began to beat faster, before a gentle and passionate kiss was pressed against his lips 

Her hand moving from his jaw down to his shoulder as she leaned further into him, the soft scent of his hoodie mixed with her shampoo filled his nose as her hair fell around her face, framing it like a picture. The soft chirping of the birds filling his ears, but only to be replaced by the loud beating of his heart and Y/n’s breaths. 

Akaashi’s hand gripped tightly onto her waist as her tongue grazed the bottom of his lip. Her hips grinded down onto his, a soft moan releasing from her lips. Akaashi’s mouth opened into a soft groan from the sudden touch, Y/n taking the chance to bring her tongue into his mouth and remarking everything as hers.

Her taste became addictive, as he finally realized how much he missed this. How much he missed having her body against his. How much he missed tasting her.

 Y/n’s lips reluctantly left his, only barely touching them as they both tried to catch their breath, Akaashi’s lips burning from the heat of the kiss. Her eyes, closed as her forehead rested against his, her soft labored breaths blowing against his lips sending yet another chill down his spine. Akaashi’s hands held her hips tightly, the heat of her body sending waves upon waves of warmth through him.

“Akaashi” She spoke, her voice just barely above a whisper, the hand that was placed on his shoulder moving down, landing back onto his chest 

“Yes, your love?” Akaashi asked his eyes landing back on hers

A quick soft roll of Y/n’s hips against his own sent a wave of pleasure through him, earring another groan from the both of them. 

“Let me-” Y/n began, as her lips grazed against his lips once more

Her eyes fluttered closed as she began to move her head down, pressing soft feather-like kisses down his jaw to his collarbone. Once again Y/n bit on the soft skin, a groan leaving his lips as his hands moved to her thighs, squeezing lightly, getting a soft moan from her.  

As she reached the base of his neck she moved her head away, before tilting her head down and kissing along his chest. Y/n's body moved further and further down, her lips kissing lightly on the spot underneath his belly button that was left exposed from his shirt. 

“Show you how much I missed you” Y/n finally spoke after the silence, her tongue once again darting out of her mouth to lick her lips

After those words left her mouth Akaashi felt a large chill run down his spine, his eyes taking in the sight before him. 

Y/n sat on her knees between his legs, her soft hands resting on the waistband of his jeans, as he never bothered to take them off last night.  Her once bright e/c eyes now dark with lust were staring up at him.  Her hand moved further down to the zipper of his jeans, the sharp hissing sound of the zipper falling fills his ears before Akaashi hears Y/n’s voice 

“We have a lot of making up to do Keiji”

[sexysilverstrider]

Icy Jealousy (Kaelumi)

  Kaeya was never much of a jealous person.

  He had his own ideals to chase. His own agendas to fulfil. He had no time to indulge in such trivial matters. He may have a fling every now and then, but all that would be snipped away in a blink of an eye before any of his playful encounters could even take a glance at his guarded heart.

  Kaeya had no need to be worried about such mindless—laughable, even—matters.

  That was…until she came into his life.

----------

  At first it was her encounter with the mysterious bard. Venti was ever so joyful, ever so clingy. While looking as innocent as any child, Kaeya would be a fool to think the bard was anything of the sort. Clearly there was something more when he looked at him, and oftentimes Kaeya wanted to subtly interrogate the youthful boy. Who knows? Maybe the many information Venti held might be of some use to his grand agenda.

  Well, that was the initial plan.

  “Lumine!”

  To see Venti clinging to Lumine’s arm, Kaeya soon realized that he wished to interrogate the bard for an entirely different reason.

  Shock jumped her shoulders at the playful embrace on her right arm. “Geez, Venti!” Her head turned to the side, lips pulling a pout to see him. “Don’t startle me. If I was any more surprised, I might accidentally punch you as a reaction.”

  Her mild threat didn’t even faze him. “Ehee,” he chuckled, smile as guiltless as his response. “Sorry, Lumine.” His slid a few steps back, though arms now wrapped around her right arm. “Care to join me for a drink? I heard Diluc had some really great wine brought in today?”

  Her pout softened to a smile. A sigh came out next. “If you’re paying.”

  “I got that covered!” Clearly, he did not.

  Nevertheless, arm in arm, they walked towards their destination. Laughter and conversation bubbled between them as they shared stories of her journeys and his travels.

  Kaeya only watched from a few steps afar, silent and analytical.

  The smirk he wore bore such ill will. Maybe he should pay a visit to the tavern today.

----------

  Sometimes, Kaeya had the pleasure of joining her in her little adventures. Whenever she set foot in Mondstadt, Lumine never missed the chance of paying a visit to the knights of Favonius. Kaeya—much to his silent glee—was one of them. The delight only heightened when he managed to squeeze time in his busy schedule to accompany her during commission work.

  In truth, he either changed his knightly tasks to ‘Team Up with Lumine’ or ignore his work assignments entirely.

  He could apologize to Jean later.

  During their travels, Kaeya got to a side of Lumine he rarely saw back in Mondstadt. He saw how fearless, how vigorous, and at times how reckless even to see her in action. Her plans were oftentimes near to perfection. Her movements were like wind itself, rising and soaring as she threw her enemies afar. The more he looked at her, the more he observed her, Kaeya knew he was walking on dangerous territory to regard her in such a…vulnerable way.

  He also knew that he wasn’t alone in this matter.

  “Lumine.”

  His calm voice caught her attention. Dissolving her sword back to nonexistence, she turned her heel. “Yes, Razor?” Her smile beamed upon the rugged boy. Kaeya only stood next to her, a single eyebrow raised in silent curiosity.

  Razor’s whole focus was on Lumine only. “Your hand.” Without hesitation, he held her left wrist. “Hurt.” Carefully he turned her hand, revealing a small gash on her palm.

  As adrenaline slowly eased off from her, realization finally acknowledged the numbing pain. “Oh—ah!” One eye closed as she flinched. A chuckle slipped out like a child in trouble, Lumine scratched the side of her neck with her other hand. “I didn’t realize tha—”

  Slurp.

  Not only the traveler, but shock was clear as day in the knight-captain’s eye.

  The pain was brief, but amber eyes were round as they could be due to a different kind of reaction. “R-Razor—?!” A squeak peeped as she felt his tongue on her palm again. The blood on her skin was slowly being licked away, the pressure stinging her quite a bit but warming her face most definitely.

  “I clean.” Razor merely stated, head lowered to her hand and tongue once again ready to wipe the blood clean.

  …That was…until he felt her hand being snatched away from him.

  Crimson eyes quickly glared at the man next to her.

  Kaeya didn’t say a word, yet a smile was evident, its curve so laced with malice and indignation. A growl echoed in the barren battlefield; he couldn’t tell whether the sound came from the boy or himself.

----------

  The months where he hadn’t seen Lumine were apparently the worse.

  Kaeya had bid his farewells. He had wished her journey a safe one. He had other duties to attend too. And she clearly had her brother to find. He knew this would be a short-lived rela—friendship, and Kaeya had set it clear in his mind that she wouldn’t stay with hi—in Mondstadt—for long.  

  It seemed his heart didn’t get the memo.

  Thankfully, after nearly 6 months of not seeing her, Lumine actually came back. She informed Jean that she dropped by for a visit, saying even that she missed Monndstadt and its people after months of being away.

  When Kaeya heard of it, it truly made his heart flutter.

  When he saw her new companion, however, it truly made his heart burn.

  Zhongli only watched silently as Venti and Lumine shared stories. Happiness bloomed within the ex-archon to see his old friend. Venti was still as witty, was still as cunning, and he found it amusing that the now bard immediately hid behind Lumine the moment they reunited.

  “Just making sure.” A single chuckle held being thinned lips as he brought the scene to his mind. Golden eyes then spotted some strands of Lumine’s hair dangling by the side of her face. They swayed and brushed across her left ear, catching his attention like a cat to a ball of yarn.

  Without a word, Zhongli casually slipped through those beautiful locks with his fingers and gently tucked them behind her ear.

  The simple action surely made Lumine flinch. Quickly she looked to the side, amber eyes wide and face quite warm from the gentle contact.

  Upon seeing what he assumed was a mistake, Zhongli quickly let out a short cough. “Apologies, Lumine.” He placed his cup down onto the table. “Your hair is just simply mesmerizing, I couldn’t help myself.” Honesty was his virtue, and the Geo archon simply gifted the surprised traveler a warm smile.

  Her face felt hotter, it seemed. “It’s okay, Zhongli.” She laughed it off, one hand on her cheek. “I just felt ticklish is all.” The conversation was then cut short to Venti’s sly chuckle, bringing both human and makeshift human back to the reality that they were not alone. Zhongli merely continued indulging in his tea, while Lumine rolled her eyes and teased the bard with many comebacks that she learned from her journey.

  While the scene played out like rainbows and sunshine, the even happening in the bar was anything but.

  “Oi,” Diluc interjected, “can you stop trying to shatter my glass? If you wanted some frozen popsicles, go to the dessert stall down the street.” His tongue clicked as crimson eyes glared at the man sitting across him.

  Azure gaze, cold and icy like the element, kept its focus on the trio.

  “Ah,” Kaeya simply, finally, responded. Fingers released the glass he had clutched. Flakes of ice and snow now enveloped the clear glassware, almost revealing cracks as the liquor inside of it had turned to solid ice.

  He turned to face the pyro user. His lips formed a smile, the corners swirled to a sinister curve that rivalled the spine-chilling element on his fingertips. “Sorry, dear Diluc.” He straightened his back, smile still forced in its place. “Would you be so kind as to warm my drink up?”

  “I’d rather burn you to the ground.”

  Her laughter echoed the second Diluc gave his blunt remark. Her laughter alone was enough to snatch every single attention Kaeya had.

  Her laughter alone was enough to ignite a monstrous flame within his chest.

  “Kaeya!” Anger fumed when Diluc saw the plane of ice on the bar. It seemed that the knight-captain truly wanted to be turned to ashes.

----------

  After a week of contemplating—both his heart and his mind—Kaeya decided to do the one thing that would surely piss Jean off.

  In truth, he actually enjoyed traveling with Lumine and her companions. The adventure took his mind off things. The countless dangerous encounters lit a fire within him. While the Knights of Favonius had special training for those with visions, nothing beat an actual face-to-face against inhuman enemies in order to test his elemental strengths and skills. It truly helped that Kaeya got to see Lumine in action as well, more so than he usually did in the past.

  She was still the same. Reckless but calculating. Gentle but rough. It seemed she had obtained the Geo elemental as well, much to his silent surprise. While Lisa did inform him before that the traveler did not possess a vision, to see her wield both Anemo and Geo further piqued his curiosity and interest about her.

  Well, he knew the secret to her power was only half of his genuine interest. The other half was…something Kaeya still chose not to disclose, be it to her or himself.

  After nearly weeks of camping, they finally decided to rest in Wangshu Inn. It seemed like a giant treehouse, Kaeya mentally noted, and he was widely impressed at how sturdy the structure was despite the amount of people and chaos inside it. Zhongli suggested they rested here for a couple of nights while they restock on some resources and weapons. And although Lumine and Paimon agreed to it, Kaeya soon realized that the ones doing the payment was Lumine herself.

  Like a gentleman, Kaeya paid for his room, of course—and Razor’s too since he warmed up to the young wolf boy during their journey.

  Night dawned upon them, and it was the most beautiful Kaeya had ever seen. Granted, Mondstadt was glorious with its lights and grandeur, but nothing could compare to the beauty nature had exposed before them. The gleaming line of lit lanterns truly complimented the sky above. And for once in his life, he truly felt at peace.

  That was…until azure eye spotted the target of his affections talking to someone new.

  “How do you like your almond tofu?” Lumine asked, head tilted slightly as she looked at the quiet adepti. Xiao merely nodded, gaze on his food and attention trying its best to focus on the delicacy.

  Her laugh was slowly breaking his concentration, however.

  “Hmm…” Slowly he swallowed, then huffed out single sigh. The distance between them wasn’t as far, but it wasn’t as close either. As Lumine rested her arms against the wooden rail of the balcony, Xiao only stood perfectly still with the warm plate still in his hand. He was highly aware of the small distance between them, and this also made him aware of the warmth that slowly seeped into his skin.

  He still refused to move from his single spot.

  “Good…” Whether the answer was for the food or the moment they were having, neither could tell.

  As the two enjoyed their peaceful night, one lone man stood from afar, his breathing exhaled in low specks of a chilly breeze.

----------

  Finally, after 2 months of travelling, they finally arrived in Liyue. The place was gorgeous, Kaeya couldn’t lie. It seemed that the city was Zhongli’s birthplace—"or something like that,” as explained by Venti. The reason of them coming back to the land was because Zhongli had to attend to his own work matter.

  Kaeya wanted to comment on it, but he decided to bite his tongue when he was reminded that he too somewhat shirked his duties to be closer to Lumine.

  He was happy that he finally got to spend time with her. Like a holiday of sorts. While Paimon of course oftentimes clung to her like glue, Kaeya still managed to trick the floating creature with some delicious delicacies in any nearby restaurant. Even Razor couldn’t be seen, as Lumine informed Kaeya that the wolf boy preferred the wild environment, so he made camp in an area not too far from the city so he could come as soon as possible when she calls for him.

  Yes. It truly was the perfect moment for Kaeya to get closer to Lumine.

  …Or so he thought.

  “Ojou-chaaan,” Her name lulled in a singsong tune, she felt her shoulders being firmly hugged by someone whom brought a huge sigh off her chest.

  “Now, now.” Faking an offended expression, Childe placed one hand on his chest. “I’m only here to fight my favourite comrade!”

  Slap. Without haste, she slapped his hands away from her. “I’m busy, Childe.”

  “Oh?” He didn’t take offense at all. “You don’t look busy.” He walked beside her. The more she picked up the pace, the more he followed it.

  Deciding that running would only encourage the harbinger even more, Lumine finally slowed down. She knew he was a very, very persistent man. So with another sigh leaving her lips, she shot a glare at him.

  His eerie smile became a lovely match.

  “I am busy.” Amber eyes looked at the list in her right hand. “I’m searching for stuff and things to buy before we head out. Unlike you—” Another glare was given.”—who seem like he has a lot of free time in the world, I need to keep on moving to complete my mission.”

  The ‘mission’ she firmly stated was something they both knew was a delicate topic, so Childe decided go against asking it further.

  Instead, he still made it worse. “Oh? I’m always busy, ojou-chan.” Lower lip pulled to a playful pout. The back of his hand dramatically moved to his forehead. “Can’t you see how tired I am? I am absolutely fatigued by the amount of work my stupid co-workers have put me through.”

  “If you’re tired, then why the stars do you insist on battling with me today?”

  Lumine honestly expected his playful banter. She had prepared a retort. Her mind had generated words that would surely put him into a stupor.

  What she didn’t expect was her left arm to be pulled and her body being turned to the side.

  Amber eyes were wide. Everything happened so fast as the traveler then felt her chin being tipped upwards from a single finger.

  “Because…” A voice, lulled so close and so deep, brushed her pink lips. “Battling with you is never tiring.” Cobalt blue eyes were as striking as the deepest oceans. “Every time I see you…” His gaze lingered. His voice lowered. “I have this urge to just mess—” His right hand that held her left arm moved down… “—you—” And down… “—up…” Palm pressed firmly against the side of her waist—

  Shing!

  Pupils shot to the side the moment he felt a cold breeze. Instincts kicking in fast, Childe immediately released his hold on her and slid a few steps back. In a flash, he summoned his water blades, expression masked to one of annoyance. Luckily, the ice shard—he soon realized—missed him by a hair’s breadth. The back of his hand still felt the chill, and this only made him tighten his hold.

  In truth, Lumine was ready to summon her own wind element to whoosh the fatui away. As hot as her face felt right now, it seemed that shock still kept hold of her heart and mind as she felt her body being pulled yet again.

  “Oh dear, I’m sorry I’m late, Lumine.” She recognized that voice anywhere.

  One hand around her shoulders, Kaeya graced the harbinger before him with the cruellest, most sinister smile one had ever seen. Though sword not in sight in fear that he might cause enough attention than he already had, Kaeya still stretched his left hand forward. Tiny sparks of ice danced across his fingertips, spiralling small swirls towards his target.

  Fear was never present in Childe’s eyes.

  “Ojou-chan,” he called for her, voice light with poison, “it seems you have something stuck on you. Need me to take care of it?” While his grand scheme was to have a duel with her, Childe honestly didn’t mind a warm-up. White teeth gleamed under the sun’s rays. Gaze never torn from the traveler’s stunned face.

  He was mocking her; Kaeya knew this. “Oya, oya.” A single laugh chilled the Liyue air. “Underestimating me, aren’t you? That’s fine.” While true, his past self did choose to not summon his sword, “I always love to see my enemies being horribly humiliated.” his present self now had other plans.

  The sword breezed and solidified into his hands in a blink. To see the tip of a sharp weapon right in front of him, it only infuriated and excited Childe even further. A gust of ice and a burst of water formed around them, quickly and surely attracting an audience that feared for the sudden animosity.

  Both were ready to fight. Both were ready to spill blood.

  “That—”

  Both…

  “—is enough!”

  …were now being blown away straight to a nearby lake by a powerful tornado.

----------

  It had almost been a year since Lumine’s presence. Almost a year since she changed the lives of many. Her mission was still ongoing. The search for her brother was still top priority on her list. But in her many adventures, her presence did bring joy and hope some thought they had lost forever.

  “Diluc! One more please!”

  It seemed that he was part of the ‘some’, after all.

  “Isn’t this your third glass?” A single eyebrow raised. He watched as she giggled shyly, one finger pushing the strand of blonde locks behind her ear.

  Cute. He understood why Kaeya of all people was struggling when it comes to her.

  “Ma-aybe,” she hiccupped, one hand then quickly cupping her mouth.

  Really cute. He understood why Kaeya had oftentimes lost his cool around her.

  Coughing once, Lumine cocked her head in pride. “It’s a party. No harm in celebrating once in a while. Besides, I still have some senses left in me.” Her smile shined as bright as the flames of his element. Bouncing on the balls of her feet, she then looked around. “Hmm, where’s Kaeya?”

  If not for the many years of masking his emotions so perfectly, Diluc would raise his eyebrows in surprise. “Don’t know,” he bluntly replied, hands continued to wipe and clean a wineglass.

  Crimson eyes observed as her mouth pulled a frown.

  “He was here a minute ago…” She seemed sullen? Crestfallen? Disappointed? The change of tone in her voice evoked a glint of surprise in his eyes. While Kaeya was a master of faking his emotions as he was a master of hiding his, Diluc knew his bro—the annoying cavalry captain lately had a hard time keeping his feelings in check when Lumine becomes the matter. As surprising as it was at first, Diluc soon registered the fact that there was another person—other than him—that could shake the cryo user.

  This was getting more and more amusing, he thought.

  “The fool might be dead in the upstairs balcony.”

  The statement caught her attention. “Oh?” The pep in her voice was back. Whether it was from the alcohol or the excitement itself, it was clear that Lumine didn’t bother to hide her glee. She beamed as Diluc resumed his cleaning, ignoring her altogether as a sign that he wasn’t going to say any further.

  That was enough for her. “Thank you, Diluc!” Smile as bright as the sun, she quickly made way to the balcony on the second floor.

  As he watched her disappear into the crowd, a simple twitch of his lips curled upwards.

----------

  Kaeya always loved watching the stars and moon.

  It was peaceful. Breath-taking. Calming. He was able to register his thoughts and recollect his mind every time he was alone with the twinkling lights. The wineglass in his hand was brought up, swirled gently before he sipped the final contents of his drink.

  Through the haze of his intoxication, his mind wandered to her.

  “Heh…” Lips curled to a derisive smirk. How cruel, he thought, that she still invaded his mind after all these months. When Kaeya decided to come back to Mondstadt due to knightly matters, he assumed that maybe, just maybe, a few more months of avoiding her would be the key to finally take all of this as some harmless crush.

  Alas, as the months rolled by without him being able to see her, it turns out it wasn’t harmless nor a crush.

  His arms leaned heavily against the rails of the balcony. And now that she came back to celebrate Jean’s achievements—and to thank her for all she had done—Kaeya finally had a chance to talk to Lumine. He finally had the chance to see her. He finally had the opportunity to catch up with her without the noisy company of others.

  He honestly didn’t mind Paimon. He did however mind a lot about her choice of human companions.

  He should treat her to lunch and catch up. But no. Instead, he made her do a taxing errand of preparing the feast for the party, while he had other separate matters to attend to.

  At times like these, he truly felt like a fool.

  The party had started an hour ago, and he did compliment her for being the mastermind of the surprise party. While in truth, it was his idea, Kaeya felt it more appropriate for the Honorary Knight to take in all the glory while he basked in the shadows.

  Heh. How fitting it seemed that he never changed.

  “Kaeya?”

  Not realizing that he had his eye closed all this time, Kaeya snapped it open before turning around. “Lumine!” Shock was present on his face, but the cryo user quickly mellowed it with a perfectly curled smile. “Now, what do I have the pleasure to see Honorary Knight out here tonight?” His back leaned against the rail, wineglass already placed on the small table next to him.

  Her response wasn’t immediate. Nor was it verbal. Instead, she gave a smile, one so sincere and endearing, he almost gripped the rail tightly.

  “I was looking for you.”

  Her simple answer shook him once again. Azure eye widened in shock. Lips firmly pressed to hide the emotion that fizzled within him. “Oh ho?” he chimed, the corner of his lips curled slightly. “I didn’t know I was missed.”

  “You are.”

  Her blunt answers were getting better and better. And this truly did not fare well on his end.

  Finally, he was out of words for a short while. And it was that short while that Lumine decided to move forward and stand next to him. Pride itched at her brain to know that she was able to make the cavalry knight speechless. It seems there were many benefits to having countless banters with Paimon and Childe.

  “I mean…” However, embarrassment followed suit at the realization of her words. “I didn’t see you much at the party so…” While common sense still held her by the reins, Lumine wondered if the fast beat of her heart right now was the cause of the man next to him.

  In truth, a huge part of her hoped so.

  “I asked Diluc and he said that you might be passed out in the cold here.”

  A single chuckle burst past his lips. “How sweet that he cares.” He looked to his side, memorizing every shape of her presence. “How sweeter that you care, my dear.”

  A single eyeroll was given. “I do care, though.” Her reply once again stunned him; she was getting better at reading his emotions too. “I…I know you’ve been through a lot, especially with Diluc so…”

  “Ah…” He cut her off, partly in realization and the other part to silently signal her to not continue it further. It seems that he had forgotten for a brief moment that he told her of his past. Months and months of travelling together seems to make a person’s lips looser. It was clear that he trusted her, as much as his heart could dangerously handle. And in turn, Kaeya gave her the reason to trust him.

  Which was also a much worse issue, considering that his role and lies still hang heavily around his neck.

  The smile on his face mellowed. Slowly he turned around, head cocked upwards to gaze at the night sky. “Pretty night, isn’t it?”

  She turned around too, though head tilted in his direction. A frown graced her face. Heat kissed her cheeks despite the cold breeze that caressed her body. “Kaeya—”

  “Where are you going next?”

  Roles were now in reverse as the question caught him off guard. “Sorry?”

  “Your next destination, Lumine.” Their eyes met. “Surely, you’re not going to make me hope that you might stick around longer?” The question laced with sweet toxicity, Kaeya let out another chuckle. “As happy as I am to see you back here, I know you’re on a mission to reunite with your brother.”

  His voice was soft, gentle. His expression bared a smile that strained his face.

  It hurt to watch.

  “Soon…” The reply was meek. Hands held the wooden rail. Amber eyes gazed downwards the people below. “I’ll go to Inazuma in the next 3 days.” Fingers slowly fiddled with one another. “The ship will depart on that day. So…I don’t know when I’ll be able to visit Mondstadt again…”

  Crack.

  Azure eye dulled as he ignored the pain in his chest.

  “I see.” was his only response. Slowly he nodded, mouth thinning to hold back the smile that was faltering. “Well,” One hand moved to her, wavered, hesitant, before he patted her shoulder. “I wish you all the best, Lumine.”

  Crack.

  A deep breath was taken to gulp back the cracks left in her chest.

  Hands slowly cupped together. Tightly. “Actually, I was wondering…” There was a reason she came looking for him. There was a reason she came back to Mondstadt before her next journey. One breath. Two. She closed her eyes before recollecting her thoughts that would soon slur into verbal words.

  She felt his hand pull away. She hated that.

  “I want—” With a heart that wanted to burst out of her ribcage, Lumine took the hand that was pulled away. “—you to join me!”

  Shock was the star of the show in the brilliant evening. One gawked at her as if she grew a second head. The other gasped in silence as if what she had just said was near to impossible.

  When she thought about, considering his role in Mondstadt, it might as well be.

  The grip on his left hand tightened.

  “I…” It was now or never. “I had so much fun travelling with you. It was never a dull moment.” Her head was down. “When we did all those commissions and strange requests, you always had a plan ready. When we were battling the powerful enemies, you always had my back. When I felt down and out of it, you were always there to cheer me up!” Her hands shook. “I—when we went to Dragonspine, you tried your best to find warm shelter to keep everyone warm even though fire isn’t actually your forte.” Archons, she would never forget how grateful she was to have him endure the frigid cold of such an unforgivable place.

  His hand felt warm.

  “We fought side by side all these months and I—” Couldn’t forget it. Couldn’t forget him. “I…” Anxiety kicked in the more she stuttered. Forcing another gulp, Lumine let out a sharp sigh. “Having you so close to me made me realize how much I need you.”

  Blue bangs shielded his eye.

  “Waking up and seeing you bond with Paimon and Razor and everyone else first thing in the morning made me realize how much I miss those moments.”

  Lips were slightly parted.

  “And…” She could do this. “The night that we opened up about our brothers—” She heard a sharp breath. “—that was…truly a night that I felt closest to you.” She felt her hands shake. “I like that. I love that.” There was a reason why she chose to drink more than she could handle tonight—

  “I love—”

  “Lumine.”

  Her shoulders flinched. At the same time his voice startled her, she gaped as she watched his hands slip away from her grasp. She froze as she felt those same hands cup her cheeks.

  “Lumine…”

  His voice was silky smooth, caressing her very skin that sent prickles up to the back of her neck. She blinked once. Twice. Lumine then moved her head upwards by the gentle gesture of his hands—

  Chup…

  Amber eyes were as wide as they could be.

  His lips were soft, sweet, slightly sour with a taste of tangy citrus. While bafflement had her vision open and clear, his eye was closed.

  One heartbeat. Two.

  Realization knocked him hard at the back of his head.

  Quickly his eye snapped open. Immediately he pulled back. “I—!” Hands moved from cheeks to shoulders. It seems that the wine he drank had finally took control of his body. When he listened to her request, Kaeya could only feel his body float like a cloud. When he heard her explanation, he could only feel his heart clawing right out of his throat.

  Love. When he heard that word, that one word, he couldn’t help but to succumb to the feelings he had long tried to destroy.

  He gaped at her. She gawked at him. “Ahaa…” Defeat and shame poured down on him. “Sorry, Lumine.” Now he had done it. “I had uh…too much to drink tonight.” Now he had perfectly fucked this up.

  He should leave. He should walk away. Being here with her was a mistake. Holding her by the shoulders was a mistake. Feeling her warmth, remembering the luscious shape of her lips was definitely, definitely, a mistake—

  “Gaack—!”

  Chuu!

  Words, panics, and fears dissipated like hot steam once he felt the front of his shirt being tugged, once he felt those lips he so dearly missed pressed hard against his.

  This time, her eyes were closed shut. This time his eye was wide as saucers.

  However, bafflement didn’t linger too long, as Kaeya fully registered the moment with an open heart and an open mouth.

  Quickly his eye closed. Hands now moved around her waist, tickling her in the process that Lumine actually wiggled in his embrace. Cute. The word beaming like a beacon, he pulled her flushed against his chest. Cute! Cute! His tongue found and caressed her own, tangling together until breaths became heavy in their lungs. Cute, cute, cute! With ease, Kaeya moved his hands downwards and lifted her up. It seems that the alcohol took hold of her mind too, as Lumine happily wrapped her legs around his waist as she pressed closer.

  Chu! Chuu…chup! Apart they broke for a mere second. Chuuu! Together they kissed again before either could regain proper vision. Her hands tugged and brushed through long, silky blue hair. His hands squeezed and gripped her soft, scarred thighs.

  Pop!

  If it weren’t for the fact that they needed air, they knew there would be no end to this.

  Pants, heavy and warm, stroked each other’s faces. A gaze of pure stupor was given to a face of sheer shock. Red kissed their cheeks as if the sun had grazed them. Heartbeats pumped hard and fast against flushed chests.

  One heartbeat. Two heartbeats.

  After the third beat, realization dawned on them like cold water.

  “Ah—” Both stumbled. Quickly Lumine released her grip and stood in a shaky stance. She kept hold on his shoulders, fearing that the intense moment would make her lose her posture. His hands slid upwards to her waist, his grip not longer rough yet palms pressed firmly on her body.

  They didn’t show any signs of letting each other go.

  Her head dropped. Should she apologize? Should she forgive? Should she say something to dispel this awkward situation that bloomed between them?

  But he did kiss her, though. And while Kaeya had been on her mind all these months since their journey together, never had she thought that her feelings would be requited. She felt giddy. Anxious. A whirlwind of emotions swirled inside her to know, to see, to feel, that the dashing cavalry knight would harbour such feelings for—

  “Lumine…”

  A single gulp slid down a dry throat.

  She cast a peek. Heat burned to the tips of her ears, Lumine found it wise to not say anything yet.

  She was too cute, he gushed.

  “Pushing aside our little…session, which I find absolutely amazing, by the way.” He gently pulled her closer. “I want to answer your request.”

  Her finger unintentionally squeezed his shoulders.

  “Lumine…” His voice lowered to a husky whisper, so loving, so sweet. “I would love to join you to Inazuma.” To join you anywhere.

  His answer lit up a spark of joy on her face. Quickly, finally, she brought her head upwards. “Really—?”

  Chu.

  Glee burst to shock at the feel of his lips.

  “Kaeya!” Instinctively she pulled back, pupils blown in pure embarrassment over his tease.

  Laughter echoed the bright night. While Kaeya was infamous for masking his emotions, the laugh he burst out was both genuine and filled with absolute glee.

  How mesmerized she felt to witness such beauty.

  “Geez…” Quivered lips pressed a shaky smile. Playfully jabbing his chest once, Lumine then wrapped her arms around his chest. “I have to get used to this, huh?” A sheepish mumble left her lips. Her left cheek nuzzled against his warm chest.

  A peaceful sigh left her to feel fingers tickling her back.

  “Pretty much.” Happy. “You wanted me to tag along. You pay the price, my dear.” It felt so sinful to be this happy. He nuzzled the top of her head, inhaling the sweet scent of windwheel aster and vanilla that he so dearly loved.

  It seems his silly jealousy was—after all—silly.

  Finally, her laughter joined his. The two relished in their embrace, making the stars and the moon their witness of the very start of their ever after.

END

[captain-emmajones]

in the palm of your freezing hand

Here is my contribution for Neverland New Year. Bigs thanks to @neverlandnewyear for organizing this and to @carpedzem for reading this over for me <3

I apologize for any grammar/spelling mistakes. They are all mine! 

Summary: 

Post 3x09: On their way back from Neverland to Storybrooke, Emma is alone on deck of the Jolly Roger while everyone is asleep...or is she really alone? 

Hurt/Comfort -- 1,6k words -- Ao3

The ladder creaks under Emma’s footsteps as she climbs out of Hook’s quarters where Henry lies peacefully asleep. 

The ocean breeze greets her outside; it tangles and dusts salt crystals into her hair. Goosebumps run across the exposed skin of her neck as the wood of the Jolly Roger exhales sighs of content, lulled by the waves. 

Emma breathes in -- 

After Neverland, and the lost boys, and saving Henry, everything is so distinctively quiet on deck. It has been deserted; there is not a human soul to be spotted. 

-- and exhales a sigh of relief, looking up with leaden eyelids towards the starry sky. 

Lazy, white clouds twirl around the moon; they seem to be competing for her attention as she bathes the ship in a cold, silver light.  

Another gust of wind swirls around Emma; she folds her arms around her body to smother a shiver and paces forward. 

It is her first moment of peace, all by herself, in forever. 

She licks her lips, tastes salt on the tip of her tongue, as she walks towards the ship’s bow. And repeats cautiously to herself: Henry is safe. We are going home. Henry is safe. 

Everyone’s settled down in the crew’s cabin, with the hammocks and the bunk beds, but Emma knows she will not get any sleep tonight. 

She still feels on the edge of a precipice, can still feel the void calling to her and the restless shaking of her legs.  

The bitter taste, at the back of her throat, will not be swallowed down and this foreboding knot in her stomach will not stop whispering, murmuring, that something terrible has yet to happen. 

Henry is safe. We are going home. Henry is safe. We are -- 

Emma wraps her arms around herself in a tighter embrace to gather a surplus of heat. Angry shivers run down her spine, but she needs the fresh air, she needs the distraction in order to remain afloat and -- 

“Are you alright there, Swan?” 

She startles, heart racing, and spins around to face Hook emerging from the shadow, his coat swinging around him. Fuck. Shafts of moonlight sweep over him and slowly illuminate his features, touch by touch, until Emma can make out his eyebrows furrowed in a line of concern above eyes that have no business being this blue.

Her gaze lowers, flutters along pink lips and lands onto the pile of blankets folded against his chest. This sight brings her back to a few hours ago, when Hook safely tucked the blue bed cover of his single bed beneath Henry’s chin before standing up with a quiet smile and letting Emma and Regina flood in his room. 

“I just distributed those, but you weren’t anywhere to be found below,” he continues, stepping towards her. 

Emma blames his sharp and knowing gaze for her pounding heart and her anxious step backward. She thinks hurt flashes in his eyes, but it is only a momentary flicker and it soon dies into a gentle smile. 

And Emma’s figured out in Neverland that there isn’t much she can do, against that smile, and this earnest look on his face.  

“I’m okay,” she finally exhales, but it isn’t enough to dissipate the uneasiness she sees in his eyes. 

A playful gale interrupts her, preventing her from adding anything else, and she shuts her eyes under the cold surprise, muscles stiffening. 

Before she knows it, something soft embraces her and Emma lifts her eyelids to see Hook in front of her, securing a blanket around her shoulders.  

“There,” he whispers, even as his fingers skim lightly over the skin of her neck and then stop, “That’s much better, isn’t it, Swan?” 

Emma swallows down. Her hands fasten over the blanket, trembling fingers brushing against Hook’s. Her eyelashes flutter and a wobbling smile flickers across her face as his musky scent fills in her lungs. 

“Thanks.” A tender smile curls up the corners of his mouth and Emma’s heart lurches an unfair amount. 

Yeah...Fighting against that side of Hook is definitely harder than it looks like. 

Before she can catch herself gazing longer into his eyes, she whirls around to face the green waves that cradle and crash against the Jolly Roger. Although she cannot see him, Emma feels Hook’s hovering presence settling beside her. 

They stand there in a comfortable silence, shoulders almost touching, and Emma thinks it has been weird to see the pirate persona fade away, yielding to the Captain beneath it -- a Captain who has made sure everyone was safe and sound on his ship.  

She saw him proceed calmly, organized as he ordered everyone around and Emma thinks she caught a glimpse of the pirate Captain who, for three hundred years, was the only leader aboard this ship.

Emma also thinks it is odd how easily he gave up on his leadership, in Neverland, but then she stops thinking about it because those are dangerous territories to explore. 

Something bubbles up in the sea, beneath them. Emma squints. It must be a fish. 

“Did you eat anything?” He suddenly asks, shattering the silence. 

She shakes her head, blanket twirling along with her, and aims for a detached tone when she mumbles: “Nope. Wasn’t hungry.” 

And lowers her gaze for proper emphasis.

He sighs next to her. “You need to eat, Swan. And sleep. Savior or not, you are still human.” 

She scowls. “I’m not seeing you doing a lot of sleeping either.” 

A small laugh escapes him and Emma instinctively tilts her face to stare at him, biting her lower lip to smother a smile and clutching hard her blanket. 

It must be her lack of sleep, or just the euphoria of finally leaving Neverland, but Emma feels slightly drunk. Now that she thinks about it, her eyelids burn. 

“Point taken, Swan. However, this ship still needs a Captain. And once we’ll be in Storybrooke, I’ll have the rest of eternity at least to rest with the lots of you out of my ship.” 

He isn’t looking at her, and Emma has all the leisure to see the too big, too bright grin on his face fade into a frown and this unfamiliar and disconcerting look settle on his features. 

Emma’s stomach twists. 

“Oh yeah, don’t worry,” she hears herself say, “You’ll soon have this ship all to yourself.” 

Silence falls, dull and heavy. Even the sea seems to hold back her waves beneath her bosom, scared to shatter it. 

Emma gulps down. She does not know where to look. Gazing at him somehow feels too intimate. Something is clenching at her throat. She drops her gaze, stares at the blanket around her shoulders and then -- 

“Aye.” 

-- and then, looks back at him. Always back at him. (That will become a pattern, but Emma does not know that yet.)

Fuck. His head is lowered, stubborn wisp of hair hanging in front of his eyes; he seems to be examining the rings around his fingers, and Emma wishes he would look at her instead -- but he doesn’t. He remains frozen. 

A wave of heat overwhelms her and her free hand abruptly grips the wooden rail next to his. Although she winces at the cold, the desired effect occurs; he looks up, surprised, and delves into her eyes. 

Emma’s heart might sink to her feet but she goes on: “What are you going to do once we reach Storybrooke anyway? You know I won’t let you pillage and plunder this town, right?” 

The joke falls flat with the implications of her words and she sees his eyes go back and forth between hers, trying to read her. 

Panic sweeps over her. She just assumed, she just assumed that he would stay in Storybrooke, with them, as if, as if he belongs there or something -- 

Thankfully for Emma, Hook’s answer comes quickly and is delivered in a gentle, soothing tone that sends a loop in her stomach.  

“I’m not after these kinds of tresors anymore, Swan.” 

Emma nods, although her heart is now beating inside her mouth and her legs have turned to stone. 

“I’m happy to hear that. I wouldn’t want to have to chase you around Storybrooke.” 

Another laughter. Even the moon looks as though she is scrunching her nose and smiling upon them. 

“I beg to differ.” 

In a moment of clarity, Emma does think she should go and try to get some sleep, before her fingers end up doing something terrible, like grabbing the lapel of his coat. 

Eventually, there is just enough willpower left in Emma to allow her to slowly retreat. She blinks, inhales, gathers strength. Sleep. She needs sleep. 

“I’m sure you do,” she exhales and takes a step backward. 

As she passes him by, her right hand instinctively brushes across his arm; Emma sees Hook’s eyes widen at their contact, but he does not make any comment. 

A smile, she smiles -- 

“‘Night Hook.” 

-- and allows herself to look up and gaze into his eyes. There is something exhilarating, about staring into his eyes. Emma does not know why.  

Without looking down, she is able to predict the spontaneous jolt of his fingers towards her, fingers that rise and reach for her, and then stop, as if asking for permission and Emma meets him halfway. 

“Goodnight, Swan,” he answers back, as his hand curls around her knuckles, how can his skin be this warm?, and there is that stupid grin on Emma’s face again. 

She nods as Hook’s warm touch sends electric trails circulating all through her body. She is definitely too exhausted to care. 

Instead she keeps on smiling, fingers lingering in the comfort of his palm… 

...And then slowly backs away into the night -- a small, serene cloud floating along with her. 

[alexandenigtscreations]

Chapters: 5/7 Fandom: The Penumbra Podcast Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Relationships: Peter Nureyev/Juno Steel Summary:

Juno Steel and Peter Nureyev make a good team. But when a bank job goes horribly wrong, the injured pair are forced to lay low and hope the Carte Blanche can make it back to them in time.

(Note: Bold Italic script indicates Nureyev speaking Brahmese) 

Chapter 5

“God Damnit Thief!  Pick up your damned coms when the bloody doctor calls!"

"Again, apologies Vespa, I-" he coughed weakly into his hand, tripoding over his knees.

"Do you know how many times I had to call you?  Do you?"  

Nureyev sighed "Afraid not-"

"Seven !  Seven goddamn times!  Thought you were dead !  Or Steel!  Or captured or whatever!  We're in enough crap as it is without you two adding to the pile!"

“Vespa, I-”

“If you say you’re sorry one more time, Thief; I swear to god I’ll snap your scrawny neck!"

"I'm-" he caught himself mid apology, "Understood-"

"I haven't heard Steel's voice, where is he?"

"Juno's- sleeping." Which is what he himself had been doing up to the moment Vespa rang. Stupid- a rookie mistake-

"Oh?  And how sure are you of that thief?"

Nureyev wiped the sweat off of his face, "I'm sure-" it had been the first thing he checked when the beeping of the comms woke him.  Even from here he could see the frantic rise and fall of Juno's chest.  The lady wasn't doing well.  

"Completely."  He coughed harder into an elbow.

Vespa sniff on the other end of the line.  Plainly suspicious, but that was nothing new.

"Fine, now you're on, we can get back to business…."  There was a clatter outside, his head snapped towards it ".... temperature down, or it can cause…." and another- "gotta make sure he's in the recovery…" and another and confound it all Nureyev, focus!  He shook himself back to the conversation just in time for Vespa to say "Did you get that Thief?"

"Hmm?  I ugh-" he floundered.  No, no he had not gotten it, and was just about to say so when he heard voices-

Lord, not now, please not now-

"Thief?"

Nureyev limped to a window.  Even in the dim light of the street lamps, he could make out the security uniforms of Galactic Stars First Bank.  

No-

Anxiety spiked his chest, making him queasy- or perhaps he already was-

Juno was in danger.  That much, he was certain of.  To say nothing about himself.

He glanced over his shoulder at the sleeping lady.  Even with his features pinched and weary, he was beautiful-  

And vulnerable-

Plans began to formulate in his mind.  His first impulse was to find some crevice to hide in, to disappear.  But even with Juno’s help, he only just managed to get him to the sofa last time-  If they were found- well, he didn’t want to find out what they’d do to him.  

“Thief?!”

He could lure the guards inside, dispatch them quickly and save his leg the trouble-  But no, that would be too messy.  To say nothing of Juno’s sensibilities, inviting guards into their hiding spot introduced more blind variables than he’d care to gamble with.

Which left luring them away- Sharp teeth worried away at his bottom lip.  The injury would make things- challenging.  But he didn’t have to be fast.  After all, it was a fool who thought the best getaway vehicle was the fastest-  

What he needed now was a strategy; and to know how many employees he’d have to contend with.  

“God Damnit Ransom, the hell-”

“Apologies Vespa, I need Rita.”

“What?!”

“Ha-How many guards, am I dealing with- Rita?” Nureyev grimaced, pressing his back tight to the apartment's tinker toy brickwork.  Rita’s voice was going fuzzy around the edges, as though muffled.

It had been harder than anticipated to pick his way past the patrolling guards, yet alone work his way out of the safe house.

“Two, maybe four in your sector Mista Ransom.”

“Which is it? ”

“Hugh?”

“Which is it?  The- er- two, or the four?” there was a throb of pain that made his breath hitch.  Along with that ever present burning, biting its way deep.  

“Not sure but- are- are you alright Mista Ransom?”

“I- am a tad worse for wear.  Which is why I’d like to resolve this matter quickly.”

“Ohhh, ohh right!  Well Rita can help with that!”

“Thank you Rita.  Now- which way to the two or four individuals?”

He allowed Rita to guide him through the quiet streets.  She informed him that a dome wide lockdown had been initiated while the intruders were at large.  Sure enough, when he tried a few doors in passing, they refused to yield under his touch.  The citizens took the lockdown seriously.  

Nureyev made sure to make plenty of noise. He needed a show if he wanted this plan to work.  What worried him was that he was only half acting as he stumbled his way over the cobbles on a stiff leg.  He allowed himself to knock into bins and topple items into cars.  The noise he raised wasn’t loud, per say, but it was conspicuous on the quiet streets.  

“Where are these guards Rita?”

“They’ll be coming up any minute Mista Ransom, you just keep your eyes Peeled!  Make a right up here-” she directed “Peeled, hugh, ever consider what a weird thing it is to say.  That you should keep your eyes peeled?   I mean you do that and your eyes ain't gonna be good no more, least of all you.  Oh!  But there was this one stream where the monster worked its way out of a beautiful man!  Which was such a waist but what do I know about streams?  And its eyes were doing this crazy-”

“Any- minute?” he was starting to have doubts about using his own injured self as bait. He filed that deep in his mind.

“What?  Oh!  Yeah!  You got some baddies commin’ up right behind you.”

“Behind- Are you sure?” he panted.  

“Yeah of course I’m sure Mista Ransom!”

A quick turn confirmed Rita’s intel.  He was indeed being followed.  

They shouted something at his back, and Nureyev picked up his pace to a skip-hop, while his pursuers broke into a run.   A plasma bolt shot past his ear, sending a jolt of adrenaline through.  In answer he flipped over several barrels.  They cascaded into the small space, messing the ally nicely.  That should slow them down some.  It had to.

There was no time to pay attention to the ache of his lungs or the fire coursing through his leg.  Even as each step pushed him that much closer to being physically ill.  

File it away, Damn you- just file it away-

He screwed his eyes shut and pushed forward.  Forcing himself to keep moving, to keep breathing, to keep-

He plowed headlong into an old chain link fence with enough force to knock him to the ground with a strangled cry.  The traitorous links rattled and clinked all the way up to their restraints.  As if to add insult to injury, they stretched maybe ten, fifteen feet in the air.  There wasn’t a hope of making it over before his acquaintances caught up.  

“Mista Ransom?!” Rita sounded scared, she’d even stopped typing.  “What happened?”

“There’s-” he coughed “There’s a- barrier- ” There was another word, a better word, but he couldn’t for the life of him think of it.  It was taking all his effort to push upright on shaking arms, threading his fingers into the wire mesh to haul himself to his feet.  

“A barrier?  Like a wall or a buildin’ or somethin?  None of that is showing up on my schema-”

“A fence- Is there another way round?”  He took a moment to catch his breath.

“I’m sorry but, there isn’t anythin’ on the map.  Ya gotta get to the other side before ya have options.  Can’t you like, break through or somethin?”

Break through, of course, Nureyev could kick himself; it was so simple.  He extracted one of his plasma cutters from a pocket, heat humming through the blade.  In the end, it wasn’t even a good fence.  The blade made quick work of the links, slicing through them as one might margarine.  

Another blaster shot forced him through the cherry red ruin of a hole before it had a chance to cool.  He brought his arm up, shielding his face even as the sharp edges racked along his coat, hitting his leg- he hissed, nausea threatening to overtake him.  

“Mista Ransom?”

He scrambled to the other side, barely keeping upright.  

“Mista Ransom!  You’ve got more company comin’ straight at you!”

“What-” his voice cracked in exhaustion.  Through the gloom, he could just make out the second pair barreling down the narrow passage.  He could hear them barking orders at him now, probably instructing him to surrender or other such nonsense that he had no intention of following.  

“They’ve brought reinforcements!  They’re gonna’ block your escape roots!”

“Reinforcements?”

“There’s at least four more heading straight at you!”

Nureyev glanced back and spotted the first pair shoving through the debris.  Then that would make six-  Six on one, he didn’t like those odds.  A wrong step sent a jolt through him, his weakened leg nearly buckling under his weight sending him into a wall.  Again the world went fuzzy, blood rushing to his ears.

He wondered if the Carte Blanche really would come back for him if he’d got captured.  Something made him doubt it even as he shoved the ugly thought deep into a file.  

Think Nureyev.

Time, he needed time.  A had drifted to the modest arsenal on his chest.  There were a few smoke bombs he hadn’t touched, but the situation called for something more dire-

He plucked a pepper grenade from the clip, lobbing it over the fence with the practiced ease of one who’d spent hours on throwing knives.  Smoke tracked it’s flight through the air.  It struck the ground at the guard’s feet.  They yelled, scrambling back just as it erupted.  The choking fumes swallowed them in seconds.  

Nureyev was no longer paying mind to them, attention bent entirely at the remaining guards.  Four on one were more....manageable.  

He rushed the closest set, drawing a twin to his first blade wheeling them in tandem.  The man was no fighter, as soon as he got into their space, the man shrank back, his blaster forgotten.  

A tingling burn flushed across exposed skin making his heart plummet.  He’d made a mistake.  Nureyev hadn't accounted for the wind-

Spurred by the change in fortune, Nureyev dispatched the man quickly; maneuvering out of the way as he crumpled.  Life’s blood spilled over the cobbles soon obscured by smoke.

Smoke?  

Twisting and contorting, the smoke seemed to grow till it engulfed everything in its path.  Pouring down the cramped space.  The remaining guards tried to run, but were soon overtaken, same as the Thief.

Nureyev's throat closed against the onslaught.  He gagged and coughed over the very air, vision hopelessly obscured by tears.  The only good news was that he could hear his attackers do the same.  Panic began to fog his reason.  

He no longer noticed the burning of his skin or eyes, or the way his nose was running; no longer could feel the pain in his leg.  He couldn’t breathe, he couldn't breathe .  The single thought spun round and round in his brain, desperately trying to figure a way around it.  He clung to the wall with every ounce of strength he possessed.  The coughing picked up even harder now till his chest crushed in like a deflated balloon.

Try as he will, his lungs would not expand.  There was simply no more air.

“Mista Ransom?” Rita, in the coms!  Rita who was still very much with him.  There was hope!  

Just then a hand clenched around a fistful of his hair, dragging Nureyev lower still.  He’d been found, even in a place like this, they’d still found him.  The employees of Galactic Stars First Bank were more like his creditors than Nureyev liked.  Even now she was growling at him in anger.  

Though he couldn’t understand the language, he knew she was asking questions.  Her breaths were short and forced yet still she managed to talk.  Had he not been in the grips of fear, he would have found her admirable.  

“Mista Ransom?!”

Through his bleary eyes, he could make out the cyan glow of a blaster pointed down under his nose.  She meant to shoot him, but was hesitating.  At any other time, he'd wonder why-  Instead he reached up to claw, to cling at her wrist, still with a grip on his knives.  She twisted and he bowed lower, leg quaking, his hand slipped and-

“Ah!” she squealed as his plasma blade bit into her arm, flinging  him back to a wall.  The impact miraculously forced air back into his lungs.  Though as soon as he got it, his body started to cough it back up.  Furiously he clapped a hand over his mouth, trying to hold it in.

It didn't work.

“Mista Ransom!” If Rita had sounded scared before, that was nothing compared to now.  Her voice was small and tentative in a way that would break any heart.  Even so, he latched onto her voice with everything he was worth.  

The light of the guard's weapon danced before him.  She may have been hurt, but she wasn’t down yet.  What’s worse was that she seemed to be calling for backup.  

The blade sang out of his fingers, digging itself into her thigh. This time she screamed and hacked, scrambling for the off switch while Nureyev made his escape.  It hadn't been where he'd been aiming, but close enough.  With any luck, she'd have trouble moving for a time.  

“R-ita-” he choked out, managing tiny gasps, every one a massive effort.

“What’s going on!  Have you been Gassed!!!!!” thank stars he would not have to explain.

“Y-yes-” he gave into a violent coughing fit.

“Oh-Okay, you need me to show you the way out!”

“Yes-” the fight had turned him around, making it impossible to tell which way to go.  He wanted to be free of the smoke as soon as possible.

“Can Do!  Oh!  This is just like one of those Spy streams like- well, never mind that right now.  Alright Mista Ransom, I’m gonna need you to move forwards about a hundred meters.” She instructed conspiratorially.  He obliged, thankful to leave the thinking to her.  Using the wall to keep him straight.  “Be careful when you reach the fork!” she cautioned “The passage on your left has a few baddies, the one on your right is clear!”  

On his right- he could just make out two voids stretching before him.  Stealing his resolve he propelled himself right and mercifully broke through the miasma.  He crashed into a dumpster, nearly running smack into the center of another set of guards.  

It had been the wrong way.  

There would be no time to recover, no time for rest.  Furiously he wiped his eyes and gulped down recycled air.  

Rita shrieked in his ear, “Not your right, my right!” but he had no choice but to tune her out.  

The fresh opponent rushed him, their partner charging their blaster.  Nureyev stumbled back towards the smoke, just managing to use his attacker’s momentum to spin them round into their partner.  Their partner roared, firing shots off at random as they fell.  Blaster spun out of their grip on impact.  A stray bolt savaged one of Nureyev’s coat pockets, scattering it’s contents on the stones.  Hopefully there wouldn’t have been anything important in there.  

Nureyev readjusted his knife grip and threw at the tangle of limbs.  One of the figures stilled.  He hobbled towards them as fast as he could, retrieving the blade.  He’d already lost one and that was one too many.  

It was a mistake.

Pain shot through his leg making him cry out.  He fell hard separated anew from his weapon.  He’d been struck down by the spare guard.  They spat words that were sure to be insults as they disentangled themselves from the motionless body.

Nureyev gasped, twisting away towards the fallen blaster.  It had landed some distance away, but one advantage of long limbs was reach-  The guard growled and caught his foot, drawing him backwards.  He kicked out and the hands clawed higher.  It seemed they both were trying for the same weapon.

"Let go- " Nureyev bit out attempting to dislodge the guard.

"Never, scum- " they shot back in perfect Brahmese.  Before that could sink in, fingers jammed into his bandages, into the wound-  Nureyev keened, paralyzed by the shock of it.  

First rule of thriving Pete, you can't afford to be loud.

Rita shrieked all the louder.  Nureyev was at once hot and cold and utterly overwhelmed..  He knew he was hurt, thank you, he knew it!  He could do without the constant reminders.  

The guard made use of their opportunity by clambering over Nureyev.  Hand planted on his spine, pushing him down.  The thief refused to let it be that easy; scanning for something, anything he could use-

There!

His pocket knife!  

Nureyev’s arm shot out, scooping up the tool and flicking it open.  He twisted, simultaneously throwing them off and swiping upwards.  The blade bit into cloth and flesh.  They reared back startled, leaving Nureyev to wriggle free.  On hands and knees he scrambled to the blaster.  

Nureyev may not have the skills of a certain lovely sharp shooter, but at a distance like this, he couldn't miss.  

The stunner went straight to their chest and all went quiet.  He folded over, resting his forehead on the damp of the grimy street, forcing down bile once more.

"Mista Ransom!!!  Oh Mista Ransom!  Are you there?  Please say you're there, cuz I'm not sure how I could face the boss if I…."

"Rita-"

"....got you blown up or somethin, cuz know I'd miss you oh so much but Boss- oh I couldn't imagine-"

"I'm- ha- I'm fine- Rita-" he tried again, louder this time.  His voice was thick and rough, entirely unlike the persona he’d been so careful to maintain around the crew.

There was a loud clatter from the other end and a sharp intake of breath.  It sounded as though Rita knocked something over "Mista Ransom!  You ought to feel ashamed!  Scaring a girl like that!  Don’t you know that-" she cut off abruptly “Ugh oh, Mista Ransom!  You gotta get out of there, stat!  There are reinforcements on the way and I don't think they are too happy!”

Nureyev groaned and thanked Rita.  He supposed it was a lucky thing that he was so averse to capture.  It had been a long time since cold stone had been so welcoming.  

“What are you waiting’ for Mista Ransom?”

“N-nothing- Rita.  Merely -becoming acquainted with the cobble work.” he murmured.  In truth, he was drained to his core.  His head was spinning, body aching, leg burning and he was just so- thirsty.  There was at least something he could do about the last one, but not for a while, and not without getting up.  The entire distraction had taken far more out of him than anticipated.  

“Mista Ransom, you know I don’t speak nothin but Solar-” she started, but he wasn’t listening.  

Distraction.  His mind snagged on the word.

That was right, he was luring Galactic Star’s First Bank away from Juno.  Juno, gorgeous, wonderful Juno who’d taken a poison dart for him, who needed him right now.  

Nureyev had to get back to him, no matter what.  

In the end, Nureyev had trusted Rita to guide him back to the safe house.  She’d insisted after he nearly ran into another set of guards.  He was too tired to fight.  More than once considering folding himself up into a corner and waiting for the excitement to die down.  Moving in the open like this- didn't sit well with him.  

It took a lot longer to return to the grubby street of the safe house, and longer still to check and recheck he hadn’t been followed or bugged.  

“Thank you again- Rita-”  Privately he vowed to do something nice for her if and when they’d return to the ship.

“Oh and Mista Ransom?”

“Hm?”

“Take care of yourself, alright?  Ya make Mista Steel real happy- and- and I want ya both back in one piece okay?”

Nureyev was taken aback for a moment, mind blanking over the words.  It was- touching, and he had no idea what to do with that.  

He cleared his throat.  “I will do everything in my power to make that happen.” and he meant it.  

[Special thanks to Scarlet_Trust who got me excited about this again.  Please, Please go over and read their wonderful works!]

[heyyy-hey-babyyy]

When We Were Young (part VIII)

Dean x Fem!Reader; Sam x Fem!Reader (platonic)

Read part I here ; Read part II here ; Read part III here ;

Read part IV here ; Read part V here ; Read part VI here

Read part VII here

Warnings: Angst, Mentions of trauma/abuse, brief moments of self-harm, mentions of anxiety attack, *moments of assault*

**This chapter contains images of assault. Please be aware if this is trigging for you!

B/N: I’m getting a little lost in my own timeline, so apologies for any inaccuracies... All mistakes I claim as my own.

Summary: Dean, Sam, and Y/N grew up together, but when she’s taken away for over 10 years, the boys have no idea what she’s been through. Will asking her to move into the bunker with them reveal more than she’s ready for?

1773 words

All you could hear was the constant dripping of the pipes above you, one splashing cold water on the back of your neck. Greg hadn’t left you alone after unbuttoning Dean’s flannel, and rather decided to strip you down and shackle your hands above your head again after. Then he walked out of the room, leaving you shivering, still leaning on your naked and bruised knees, arms growing numb above you. 

You had to have been in the same position for over eight hours or so after you factored in how long you might have been passed out, and your body felt like it was ready to snap in half. You couldn’t lift your head anymore, though you wanted to move out of the dripping water, which felt like standing under a cold shower. But you couldn’t be too worried about it, because suddenly you felt an arm snake around your waist and lift you to your feet. You felt yourself fall into a slight feeling of hope, thinking that perhaps Dean had finally come for you. But your hopes were dashed when Greg whispered in your ear. 

“Okay, hunny-bear, time to make it up to me.” You whimpered slightly in response, and you felt Greg release his hold on your waist, your body crashing roughly to the floor, chains yanking your arms above your head again almost ripping your limbs from their sockets. You cried out with what energy you had left, tears slipping down your cheeks. 

“Oh dear. I’m sorry hunny, I didn’t realize you were this weak already...” He trailed off, pulling you to a standing position again. He spoke like he cared about you, but you heard the smile behind his voice, relishing in the fact that you couldn’t fight back right now. “I’ll make sure to be gentle,” he whispered in your ear again, making you shudder, tears continuing to fall down your face. 

Greg grabbed the back of your neck, bending you at the waist and holding you up on your own legs, rendering you completely powerless, afraid he would snap your neck if he felt like it. You felt fear course through your body as her rubbed his other hand slowly down your exposed back tracing a long scar down your side that you got from a vampire hunt, ending at your hip bone. You hated the way he seemed to be caring for you, his movements slow and careful, and your mind quickly drifted to Dean. Shaking your head, you dislodged the hunter’s green eyes from your mind, knowing you would need to repress this memory later on and it would be impossible if Dean was anywhere near it. Greg felt you shaking your head, and he stilled his movements, turning to stand in front of you instead, hand still at your neck. 

“What’s wrong, hunny?” He lifted your head so that you were forced to look into his eyes, and he smiled knowingly. “Oh, I get it. You’ve moved on.” He gave you a small pout and you avoided his gaze. “It’s okay, I want this to be good for you. And honestly, it doesn’t matter what body I’m in anyway. It feels amazing either way.” You whipped your head around, suddenly staring into bright green eyes. Gasping loudly, you were suddenly pulled forward toward the lips of Dean Winchester. You froze, but felt yourself kissing him back slightly, your brain playing tricks on you. Dean pulled away and smiled at you widely, and you smiled back until he opened his mouth. 

“That’s right, hunny-bear. Now we can both be comfortable.” ‘Dean’ disappeared from your view and you felt a small bout of strength, your body fighting against the chains holding you in place, trying to escape from the nightmare your brain couldn’t even imagine up. But Greg’s hands held you tight to him, and you felt his hips move against you. You were prepared to accept this happening to you at the hands of Greg, but you couldn’t get the image of Dean standing before you in the damp room out of your head. And though you kept repeating to yourself that it wasn’t Dean, it was becoming impossible as Greg continued to speak, Dean’s gruff voice floating up to you. 

“Alright hunny,” he cooed, stroking up and down your back as you heard the zipper of his jeans. “Are you ready for me?” 

You didn’t respond, your mind shutting down like it had so many times before to help you survive this moment. You felt some pressure to your core, and then your body was moving back and forth, but you felt numb, and didn’t say a word. You weren’t sure how long Greg used you, but when he was done, he pulled out, zipped back up, and came to stand in front of you. Dean’s body came into view, and he looked concerned, as he swiped at the tears you didn’t realize were streaming down your face, cupping your cheek. You involuntarily leaned into it, and when you looked up again, Greg was staring into your eyes. You leaned out of his grasp, and he sighed, pulling you forward to kiss you on the top of the head. 

“I have something I have to do hunny-bear. I’ll be back soon.” And just like that he was gone, leaving you hanging from the chains, bent at the waist. 

You started to sob silently, knowing that Greg didn’t destroy you 13 years ago. He destroyed you now, using the only man you felt comfortable with against you. Being a hunter you didn’t believe in anything you couldn’t see, so you often refused to believe in God, but in that moment you felt yourself praying, reaching out to anything or anyone to help you. 

You suddenly heard the rush of wind and the flutter of wings, as a figure appeared in front of you. Too tired to react you attempted to move away from whoever had appeared in the room, when you felt a soft hand on your cheek, causing a warmth to spread throughout your body. 

“Hello, Y/N.” The figure began and you looked up into bright blue eyes. “I heard your prayer. My name is Castiel. I am an angel of the Lord.” You stared up at the man in disbelief before your world went black. 

-----------

Cas disappeared as quickly as he appeared and Dean spun around looking for him in the small room. 

“Cas!” He yelled into the emptiness, but the angel didn’t reappear. Dean scoffed, returning to find Sam and Bobby in the living room. Sam rose to his feet when Dean entered, looking questioningly behind him, anticipating Cas following Dean. Dean shook his head, throwing his hands up the air, when he heard the flutter of wings behind him again. The look on Sam’s face made Dean whip around nervously afraid of what he might find behind him. 

Cas was standing in the doorway to the office holding Y/N tightly in his arms. He had shed his trench coat and it was wrapped around an unmistakingly naked Y/N like a towel. 

“Hello Dean,” Cas repeated for the second time in 20 minutes, and Dean rushed forward taking Y/N out of Cas’ arms and cradling you tightly to his chest. You looked as if you were sleeping, but your face looked like you were in pain, stuck in whatever nightmare you were being forced into. Bobby and Sam rushed over to where Dean stood holding you, both men looking murderous. 

“Cas, what happened?!” Sam was yelling, unable to control his emotions, and Castiel stood awkwardly, not having the people skills to deal with human emotions this complex. He took a beat or two to answer, but Dean cut him off, not ready to hear the story while you were still in the room.

Dean shifted you slightly in his arms and your face relaxed as he hiked you up, your head resting in the crook of his neck. He didn’t want to leave you alone right now, but he wanted you to be more comfortable as you slept, and didn’t want you to be naked anymore. He motioned with his head for his brother to follow him upstairs. Sam followed, and as they reached the stairs Dean spoke over his shoulder. 

“Cas, stick around.” Cas nodded once, and Bobby motioned for him to sit on the couch him and Sam had just vacated. Cas sat awkwardly fixing his stare on the wall ahead of him, as Bobby left the room. 

Dean walked toward Bobby’s room upstairs knowing you would feel most comfortable there if you woke up while they were downstairs talking to Cas. Sam opened the door for him, and stood in the doorway as you placed Y/N down on the soft blankets. 

“Sam,” Dean spoke up, making sure you were fully covered with Cas’ trench coat for the moment after you were jostled about a bit. “Can you find Y/N’s bag and get maybe some sleep shorts, or something we can get on her easily?” Sam nodded, disappearing from the room. You took a second to take in Y/N’s appearance, not seeing any signs that you had been hurt, but you figured you’d learn the extent of the injuries from Cas, as Dean was sure he healed you before bringing you here. He knew Cas wouldn’t without permission, but he also secretly hoped that Cas had scrubbed your memories of whatever had happened in the hours that you were missing. 

Sam returned while he was lost in his thoughts, clearing his throat simply. Dean turned around and Sam handed him a pair of Y/N’s loose shorts and one of Sam’s flannels, figuring it would work best to cover her. 

“Can you help me?” Dean asked his brother awkwardly, not wanting to betray Y/N’s trust, especially not when you were sleeping. Sam nodded coming forward while Dean placed each of your feet carefully in the leg holds of the shorts. You were still in a deep sleep, your chest rising and falling slowly, so Dean pulled the shorts up your legs, careful to not touch you, and both brothers looked away while Dean slid your shorts up over your hips and Sam moved the bottom of the trench coat out of the way. They repeated the same process to move Sam’s flannel over your head and slip your hands into the sleeves. Sam grabbed Cas’ trench coat off the bed and left the room, nodding once at Dean with pain in his eyes. 

Dean couldn’t stop looking at you, relishing in how peaceful you looked now that you were curled up in the blankets with familiar smells all around. He felt a tear slip down over his cheeks, and he swiped at it angrily, muttering to himself that he didn’t deserve to cry right now. Leaning forward he pressed his lips softly to your head and you stirred lightly, letting out a dreamy sigh, and Dean stood intent on killing the monster that hurt you before you even woke up and bringing his head to you as a trophy.

Read part IX here

When We Were Young Tag List: @vicmc624 @woundedxsmile @akshi8278

[sevfanfic]

Hello! I’d first like to apologize for the long and unexpected hiatus. I’ve been dealing with a lot of personal and family issues recently. The pandemic has also made work stressful so I’ve been focusing on self care. I hope you all are doing well and staying safe! Chapter 19 is finally here! Thank you for your patience. ❤️

A Touch in the Dark - Chapter 19: The Burden of Love

Word count: 1,594

Severus sat across from Minerva tapping a finger pensively on his thigh. His long sleeves covering the tension that coursed through his muscles as he listened to the Headmistress mull over possible reasons for a dementor attacking someone on school grounds. None of them made a bit of sense to him but with a sudden flash from a memory, the tapping stopped.

“What about that King woman?” His brow pulled together as he tried to remember more of what she had said. “What was it that she said before she left?”

“Are you mad? She’s from the Ministry, they would never condone such-” Minerva looked at the man across from her wide-eyed and taken aback when he cut her off.

“‘We’ll be watching.’ That’s what she said.” He sat forward with a new conviction in the beat of his heart, his blood pounded in his ears with every beat. “It was them.”

“Impossible,” Minerva shook her head as if trying to rattle away the idea, “they would never.”

“Oh, really? Are you sure?” The slow steady voice from Severus did nothing to help quell the stress that now hung in the air between them. “They are scared, frightened of the past repeating itself. Why else would they form that silly little group of grunts.” His voice lowered as he spoke like he felt prying eyes and ears on him. Minerva swallowed hard as she listened and when the cogs that turned in her mind presented her with a disturbing realization she spoke.

“Perhaps they know something,” she fidgeted in her chair uncomfortably.

“Perhaps.” The word pushed itself through Severus' teeth and he raised a brow curiously. He sat back in his chair, his back stiff, and began tapping his finger against his thigh again. “You don’t think…” his words trailed off into the now stifling air. He didn’t need to finish the question, Minerva knew exactly what he was asking and the thought of it made her skin crawl.

Severus clenched his fists, his nails dug into his palms painfully as he allowed his mind to conjure images of the past that made his stomach twist painfully. The idea of being confronted with

“Let’s not jump to conclusions.” She did her best to sound convincing enough to portray a facade of confidence and composure but she was hardly able to convince herself. “Right now, we have no proof to corroborate any of this. We must consider all possibilities, but first,” she clasped her hands together and smiled, “will you and Y/N be joining us tonight for the Holiday party?”

“Must we?” Severus rolled his eyes at the woman who smiled excitedly at him. He knew the answer was ‘yes'.

“Don’t be silly, Severus.” Minerva waved a hand lazily.

Severus was not interested in socializing when the thought that you could be in danger loomed over his mind. He sighed at the woman across from him and begrudgingly agreed. The conversation drifted to topics about school and students. Severus felt more distracted than ever, consumed by a worry he was not familiar with.

He left the office in a cloud of thought, his mind flurried around him like the snow outside the towering castle. The twisting in his stomach made his skin crawl, he hated this feeling and began resenting the fact that you made him feel so much. He knew you weren’t to blame for his emotions. He felt that he was beginning to care too much, letting himself become too exposed. In his mind, you were holding too much power, too much leverage. Severus wanted to believe that he’d changed, that the idea of finding love was attainable for him without the fear he had worked so hard to leave in the past.

Lost in thought and without realizing it, he walked straight into someone. At first, he did not notice who it was but when he heard your voice he blinked away the fogginess.

“Are you alright? You look lost.” You commented on his blank facial expression jokingly but when he maintained his frown you spoke with more concern, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, excuse me.” Then he moved to step around you and you grabbed at his arm to stop him. He looked at you for a brief moment before looking away down the long corridor.

“You’re lying.” You squeezed his arm but the warmth you had come to expect for you was not there. The stone-like expression intensified the downward-pointing corners of his mouth.

“Wouldn’t be the first time.” The tone of his voice cut like a dull knife. He knew what he was doing but he couldn’t help but feel irritated by you and the power you had over his normally well-controlled emotions. Severus kept his eyes away from yours. He stood so still he seemed to not take any breaths until you released him and walked away. Maybe this was a mistake, a lapse in judgment on his part. It didn’t matter anymore because he knew how he just treated you was going to change how you viewed him. Severus felt as if the fabric of his robes were constricting against him. His pace quickened as the words that came from his lips began to leave a bitter taste. The tightness in his chest grew, the corners of his being began folding in on him. He couldn’t determine if he was upset because he hurt you or angry that you made him feel such emotion at all. He was unsure of how to feel and the uncertainty terrified him more than he was willing to admit. The fear of the unknown is what scared him most. It threw him into a spiral of doubt and the only coping mechanism he knew was to push the source away. The sound of his footsteps echoed and when he approached the door of his office he stopped just short of the dark wooden entrance. He paused his mind for a moment and pondered the idea of losing you but as he imagined his life without you he felt an ache grip at his chest. But as quickly as the gripping pain ensued he reinforced his walls and pushed aside the thought of you and the idea of having a child. It was too much for him to carry, a burden of love that he was not ready for.

-

As you watched Severus disappear a sharp pain crept its way into your heart and intensified with every beat. His words had pierced you like a dagger, you knew that he was closing you out. He was gone. Maybe all of it was too good to be true after all, you knew he was emotionally fragile and maybe you had pushed him too far. You brought your hand to hold at your stomach as tears began to swell in your eyes. The breath in your chest hitched with every attempt you made to hold yourself together. The world around you seemed to disappear, the winter air and grey overcast sky faded into a darkened fog that engulfed you. What am I going to do?

You don’t remember how you ended up back in your room. When you awoke from a tearful and restless nap it was pitch black outside. The moaning of the wind as it moved through the spaces between the towering castle gave the night an eerie feeling. You sat up and the cold air that touched your bare shoulders sent a shiver coiling down your spine. As you blinked away the dryness in your eyes you felt a breeze brush against you. At first, you figured it was a draft but when the air that pushed against you a second time seemed to grab at your hair you flinched. You looked around the dark room, furrowing your brow as you attempted to make out a darkened figure against the wall across from you. The large area was impossibly dark, it seemed like a void had split the air and was swallowing any form of light into the inky blackness. Your arm instinctively began sliding toward where your wand sat on your bedside table. When your fingers curled around your wand a loud whooshing sound pounded against your ears. The blackened area grew and the air around you seemed to disappear like you had been sitting in a vacuum. With no breathable air, you gasped helplessly and aimed your wand at the figure as it shifted and twitched until the shape of a person emerged. The faceless person stepped closer. You continued to struggle for air as the sound grew louder and pushed against your eardrums. Panicked heartbeats pounded in your chest when you realized the figure was reaching for your stomach. You tried to move away but every muscle in your body burned with lack of oxygen. A booming gurgle voice bubbled from the shadow as it engulfed you. Suddenly air flooded the room and spun like a storm at sea. The rush suddenly filled your lungs as you gaped at the figure before you.

“The end is near, for he shall rise again. From the flames will labor bear the one true vessel from which he will reign.” As the last word was spoken the air whipped away the black figure and all was still. You drew in a shaky breath. With your wand clenched tightly against your palm, you moved to get out of your bed. The room began to spin as you stood, you became lightheaded with the sudden movement and your vision went blurry.

TAGS: @ayamenimthiriel @marvelschriss @debiraquel @mitsuhkai @the-not-so-iconic @darkthought15 @rubym13 @4everflowercore @otherxstories @thottywithoutthebody @setsuna-meiou31 @krazykatkay456

[vintagereigns]

“Ya’ can repay me in the mornin’.”

Warnings: NSFW (18+), Graphic language, Explicit language... 

Character(s): Raphael (TMNT 14/16) x Reader 

Tags: @aurora-the-kunoichi​ @moonlightflower21​ @donatello-writes​

A/N: I’m new to posting on this platform with my own content, so please be nice lol. This is my first TMNT imagine and, yes, I wrote it for my favorite (Raphael). Please excuse any mistakes that I made, I wasn’t sure what I was doing when I wrote this, haha. And to the lovely people that I tagged, I just wanted to see if you’d check it out, maybe give it a read? Maybe share it and let other people read it? You don’t have to and my apologies if you didn’t want to be tagged. I know Raph may not be your turtle of choice, but I was just looking for some feedback or something. Again, thank you if you do and I understand if you don’t want to read it or share it. 

________________________________________________________________

The sound of the clock ticking annoyed her right ear and her heavy eyes stared up at the ceiling above, watching as the fan spun just enough for a cool breeze to blow through the room. It was completely dark outside, possibly about two-am, but she just couldn’t seem to fall asleep. The large window on the far wall was ajar, the light curtains blowing with the breeze of the late-night wind. It wasn’t too loud outside, yet she still couldn’t fall asleep. 

Lifting her cell-phone in front of her face, she unlocked it with her thumb and went straight to her text messages. There was a certain name she had been looking for and when she found it she sent a simple greeting just to make sure he wasn’t busy or asleep. She placed the phone on her chest and within the next few seconds, the phone buzzed against her skin. He was awake and had told her to hang tight, that he’d be over within moments. 

She waited anxiously in her spot, her foot rubbing against the other underneath the dark comforter. Her heartbeat slowly picked up with every little noise from outside. She knew he was coming, however, that didn’t stop her stomach from knotting up or her heart to rise until the thumping of the organ could be felt in her throat. Every time she saw him, in light or in darkness, it was as if she had just discovered him. An aching feeling burnt in the pit of her stomach and it spread until her panties were soaked and her toes were tingling. 

The harsh thump against the fire escape alerted her of his arrival. Her hand reached to her right and she turned her lamp on, her eyes now fixating on his tall and strong body. He stood six-foot-six and his muscles made it hard for him to fit through her window, especially with the large shell hanging on his back. They stared at one another, his bright-golden eyes gazing down her covered body with his lip caught between his teeth. She couldn’t help herself and let her gaze rake up and down his form. 

“Ya’ couldn’t sleep?” His voice was decently deep and coated with a thick New York accent. He smiled and stepped forward, watching as she slowly sat up in bed. 

“No. I’m sorry if I bothered or interrupted anything-”

“Nah, ya’ didn’t. I’m actually glad ya’ texted me. Mykie’s been braggin’ about his winnin’ streak on Fifa and it was gettin’ annoying,” he chuckled and took a spot on the end of the mattress. “But I thought ya’ said what we were doing’ was over?”

“...Yeah, I know. I don’t know-” She was completely confused. There was a craving, a yearning, for him. His lips, his cold hands, rough skin, his voice. She had called their arrangement off, yet she seemed to find herself regretting it. 

“Ya’ don’t have to explain. I came, didn’t I? I guess ya’ can take that as a hint that I miss ya’ too.”

She nodded, yet she still wasn’t sure of what exactly to do. He looked at her and watched her face for any signal as to what move to make, but he didn’t find a single one. Placing his large hand on her leg, he slid it up until it grasped hers. She felt a surge of warmth slide down her until it reached the most sensitive part of her. 

“Raph…” She choked on her breath as his hand parted from hers and began to snake down to the band of her panties. He played with the elastic for a moment, one of his fingers rubbing up and down her slit. Raphael began to pull the blanket from her body. He wanted a full preview. 

His eyes flicked up to hers and he felt his cock harden in his shorts. She was staring at him, her mouth hanging open and her nipples peeking through the thin material of her tank top. Raph reached up and began kissing her neck, his teeth and tongue working to mark her flesh all the while one of his fingers circled her clothed clit. She moaned and moved her head, widening the surface area for his mouth. 

“Do ya’ want me to stop?” he whispered, his tongue staining her skin. She looked at him, her arm wrapping around his neck and pulling him in for a deep, tongue filled kiss. “Use your words, baby.” His lips left kisses from her neck all the way down to her cleavage. 

“No… please,” she begged, her eyes watching as he easily pulled her shirt apart, exposing her chest. 

“Please what, baby?” His mouth wrapped around her left breast, his tongue lapping around her already hardened nipple. 

“Please… don’t stop…” 

Raph switched his mouth over to her right breast, his hands still groping and working her left. She let her head fall back before looking back down at him with her tit still in his mouth. He made sure to make eye-contact as he bit down on her nipple and pulled gently before wrapping his mouth around her whole breast again. 

Raph sat up, his mouth coming off of her skin with a wet ‘pop’. His gear had already been removed before arriving in her apartment, but he still stood to his full height and removed the shorts that restricted his hard length from springing free. His dick bounced against the bottom of his plastron before resting heavily in his hand. Raph jerked the covers from his lover’s nearly-naked body and climbed back on the bed, his body resting comfortably in-between her legs. He kissed her thighs and bit down just enough to turn the skin pink. 

She watched him, still, from above and played with the ends of his tattered, red bandana. He was beautiful with it off, but she loved the way it looked on him. She always thought that the red cloth made his eyes seem brighter, yet hidden in the shadows of the mask. Raph began pulling her panties from her, cursing beneath his breath as he watched a string of her excitement detach itself from her pussy lips before resting in the cotton material. She was so wet, and he could smell her arousal. The closer he got, the stronger her scent was. He couldn’t help it and bit down harshly into her thigh, making her jump and jerk. 

“Sorry,” he said, his eyes darker and his voice deeper, raspier. “I’ve just missed how ya’ taste.” 

There was that same jolt of something indescribable. She loved when he talked dirty and, boy, was he good at it. His words could get so filthy, nasty even. Yet she loved it every time. And he knew it too, for he teased her with his voice many times before. 

Raph ran his tongue slowly up her closed slit, his eyes locked with hers again. He watched every deep breath she took, every twitch of her body, and listened to every small sound that left her lips. He watched her as he slipped his tongue between her folds and lapped up her juices, teasing her hole with his tongue. 

A growl-like noise left his mouth as he circled her clit with his tongue before wrapping his lips around it and sucking. He let his hands wander up her body until they grabbed a hold of her chest and squeezed, his mouth still sucking and licking her pussy. Her head had fallen back moments ago and she couldn’t find the energy to pull it back up to watch him. But she did place one hand on his left one as it groped her chest, helping him squeeze her breast. All the while her other hand reached down to the back of his head and pushed his face into her, her hips jerking and grinding his against his tongue. 

Raph could tell that she was close to orgasming by the way her moans increased in volume. A smirk found its way onto his lips as he slid his tongue as far inside of her as it would go, his finger rubbing her clit for extra measure. She was grinding against his face and Raphael felt close to his own orgasm just by that alone. He felt high as he swirled and thrusted his tongue inside of her, flicking and licking against her tight walls. 

Her legs began to shake. Raphael had found that euphoric spot inside of her that not even she or her toys could find. He knew what was to happen next, so he flicked his tongue faster, as deep as his mouth would let him. Her hands grabbed his head as she cried out, her orgasm squirting out of her and onto the bed, her blanket, and even Raph himself. He tried to rub her clit to make her come again, but she was too sensitive and jerked back when his rough digit came in contact. 

Smiling, Raph moved upward until his lips found hers in a slow kiss. She was still feeling it and moved her head to rest into the crook of Raph’s neck. Raph kissed her skin gently before standing up and flicking the light back off, his large frame walking to the other side of her bed and climbing in beside her. 

“I didn’t do anything for you,” she whispered. Raph pulled her in for another gentle kiss. 

“Ya’ can repay me in the mornin’,” he laughed. She smiled and cuddled into him after he pulled the comforter back up and around their bodies. Raph pulled her close, her bare ass against his still-hardened dick,  and wrapped one arm around her torso, his hand grabbing her boob, and his other hand resting warmly in between her legs. “Get some sleep,” he whispered, kissing her head and relaxing against her. 

She had only nodded in response and Raph closed his eyes, his body pressed against hers, and let himself fall asleep- at least until he had to leave.

[dzamie-oc]

03 - Steampunk

I’ll admit, this is a bit reductionist for a punk story, but gimme a break, I wrote this in only a few hours :P

Length: 2200 words Rating: T (mild description of blood and death) Summary: A factory worker makes a dragon. They grow up together and eventually enact a little bit of class warfare and a little bit of revenge.

-----

Finn’s desk was half covered in a pile of assorted junk - gears, pipes,twisted bits of scrap metal, keys for long-dead springs, and so much more, almost all tarnished, covered in coal soot, or both. However, his attention was focused on the other half, a carefully cleared space with only a few mechanical pieces strewn about, all polished to perfection. Most importantly, in the middle, sat a small, mechanical device of his own creation. Its body was unfinished, exposing much of its inner workings to the naked eye - and the elements, if he let it get that far. A head like a mix of a lizard and a dog, a long, flexible neck, a body that one might mistake for a large, metallic rat’s, and a slender tail which ended in a thin, metal cone. The young teen, with a degree of care unusual to someone with such a rat’s nest of hair, delicately positioned his creation to lay on its back, curled its legs in, and gently inserted a brass key into a particular, well-shaped hole in its chest. Once, twice... three times he turned, for luck.

Through the background din of machinery, he suddenly heard the sound of footsteps and froze. Reflexively, his free hand flew to the ignored pile of scraps, then slowly dragged one over, taking just long enough for him to listen to the footsteps pass by and once more out of earshot. Finn let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, furtively glanced left and right, just in case, and removed the wound key.

Gears and wheels began to spin with a soft whirr, and a look of wonderment spread across Finn’s face as the mechanical legs twitched, then cycled in the air. Its head lifted, letting him stare into its dark eyes, no longer as lifeless as they’d always seemed to be.

“Hey, little guy,” the boy said, “welcome to the world. I’m Finn. I almost hate to dump this on you, but... look, in case I can’t, keep wound, and keep hidden. I wish I could show everyone how cool you clearly are, but-”

Suddenly, more footsteps. Footsteps he recognized, and recognized well. Finn hissed an apology to the dragon and quickly covered it with the nearby metal bowl he’d kept its parts in, then grabbed a part from the pile and set about rubbing it with a rag nearly as filthy as the part. A valve, he realized after his first pass of rubbing - after so many years, his hands knew how to move without thinking, or even realizing what was in them. The footsteps grew louder, closer, and Finn scrubbed at the metal. With a sigh, he wondered if he’d just gotten it dirtier. He went to pass it ahead into a bucket of valves, when-

“Finnegan Shine!” came the shrill voice of a woman who thought herself far more cultured than she knew she could even aspire to. “Just what are you doing with that thing?”

Finn’s “good afternoon, Ms. Springwarden” was cut off by her question, so he looked at the metal in his hand. “I’m... putting it with the other valves after cleaning it?”

Ms. Springwarden harrumphed. “Cleaning it! Just what HAS that first-shift supervisor been teaching you?” She looked at the valve - and at Finn - with a sneer. Finn always thought that, if disdain was an Olympic sport, Ms. Springwarden would have enough gold to live somewhere nice and stop tormenting him - although, he had to admit, perhaps she would still torment him for the fun of it. “Why, I can barely tell it apart from that filthy pile!”

The boy put on a puzzled expression. “Really? But I’ve been going at it with my cleanest rag for a solid minute,” he lied. Of all the people in Alma Vera, she was the last person he ever wanted to even consider the existence of his hidden project. Still, he held up three more well-used cloths, to show her that at least part of his claim had been true.

Another harrumph. “And not once did you think that, just maybe, you ought to trade them for washed cleaning equipment?”

“But Ms. Springwarden, I thought I wasn’t allowed to leave my chair during my shift?”

“Foolish child,” the woman replied, and brought her hand towards his forehead, finger primed to flick. At the last second, however, Finn saw a look of disgust, and she withdrew so as not to touch his, charitably, under-washed face. “Rise and follow me. But don’t let me catch you out of your seat without my permission!”

“Yes, Ms. Springwarden!” Finn said, and stood. The four dirty rags were exchanged for four clean ones, or at least as clean as would pass at his work. Thus equipped, Finn was returned to his seat - the bowl still overturned, to his relief.

Ms. Springwarden crossed her arms and said, “who knows how many valuable components you’ve ruined with your folly. You do remember our motto, do you not?”

Finn nodded. “Quality and quantity, Ms. Springwarden.”

The woman harrumphed yet again, and picked up two of the buckets he had sorted parts into, and dumped them into the assorted pile. “Well, let us now remedy your mistake. You will have to clean each of these now befouled pieces once again, and be quick about it!” She glared at him. “Your work ends when your pile is gone, and not a second, nor a part, sooner.”

“Yes, Ms. Springwarden.”

Finn returned to his task, and after a few seconds, he heard one last derisive snort, and then footsteps trailing away. The boy dramatically picked up his pace once she was gone, and before long, he had undone the damage to his progress she had inflicted on him. Another look left and right, and he placed his hands on the bowl, praying that the dragon truly was still there.

“Hey, it’s me,” he whispered, so the dragon wouldn’t try to hide. When he revealed the metallic creature, it had its forepaw in its chest, twisting the mechanism inside. Once finished, it looked up at him and swished its tail, accompanied by the soft, metallic whirring of gears. “That was Ms. Springwarden. They say that, somewhere out there, at least three people are unable to make that ‘hmph’ sound, because she’s using all of theirs.” The dragon leaned its head down, opened its jaws, and picked up a twisted bit of scrap metal, then shook it around a bit, which got a chuckle out of Finn. “It’s too bad you’re not as big as the dragons I’ve heard the people who live on airships have. You could just eat her, then. Although, I wouldn’t have been able to hide you while I built you.”

The clockwork creature flicked its head and sent the scrap flying through the air, to land in the discard bucket. “Fast learner,” Finn remarked. “So, you need a name. I think... Eve.” He paused. “It’s not weird to name you after an elementary school crush, is it?”

Eve responded by tossing another bit of scrap into the bucket, then wiping her mouth on his hand.

-----

Finn prowled through the dense pipework of the underground, eyes peeled for the rats he was supposed to exterminate. In one hand, he held a bag full of rodent corpses - his proof for payment. The other hand gripped what might charitably be called a tiny harpoon launcher. It looked similar to a certain toy gun, popular among the children of wealthy families, and that was no accident - although he would have the kid he stole it from think otherwise. With a bit of tinkering, a wire to save on ammunition, and a much better spring, Finn considered himself the second best at this sort of job, something that led people to avoid asking too much about the improvised tool.

A squeak cut short, then rapid metal-on-metal clanking heralded the arrival of the first best at this sort of job. Eve trotted up to him, two dead rats in her mechanical jaws. Over the past five years or so, Finn had found or fashioned bigger replacement parts for his dragon until she stood nearly at his waist. Long since unable to hide her under a bowl, of course, the story now was that she was a defective mechanical dog he had scored for a pittance. Regardless, Eve stood attentively next to him, waiting for him to open the bag for her. When he did, one rat fell into the pile of its brethren, and as for the other...

Eve tossed and flicked her head until the rodent’s body aligned with her jaws. A new whirring noise kicked in as sets of wheels dragged it down her metal throat, and then a sickening grinding sound bounced around the pipes and fixtures. The dragon opened her mouth again and wiped it on his pants leg, to his mild dismay.

“You’re gonna have to drop that habit, or I’ll put you back on winding-only.”

Eve went still for a few seconds, but the gentle whirring of her insides picked up. When she moved again, she brought one upturned forepaw in front of the other, then cycled them around each other, and finally tapped her throat.

“Break a habit for a voice?” Finn asked. “Eve, voices are hard to come by. You know I would’ve gotten you one by now if I could.”

The sound of a much smaller creature skittering along the metal ground caught both of their attentions. Finn spun, aimed, and pulled the trigger, and a barbed, pointed pole flew from the tip of his weapon, with metal wire following shortly after. The rat screamed a squeaky scream, then fell quiet, and Finn reeled in his shot and prize.

Eve pressed her paw against his leg for his attention. She pointed her muzzle at the gun, then curled back at her own chest, and then she once again tapped her paw to her neck with an insistent clank-clank-clank. Finn furrowed his brow. “I’m pretty sure voice boxes are in a league of their own...” he started, then smiled broadly at her. “Then again, so am I. Mind giving up more than half your rats from now on, so we can go shopping for anything we can’t find?”

The dragon’s metal plating rattled against itself as she wiggled in anticipation, then bounded off to massacre more vermin.

-----

It was a glorious ceremony. Everyone sported their most elaborate suits and dresses, all in a modest brown. Some of the more adventurous gentlemen had constantly-turning gears on the hats they politely kept in their laps, but no longer were they nor their headwear the center of attention. Ms. Springwarden, soon to lose that name, stood in a beautiful, ornate, white dress, and stared adoringly at the man standing in front of her, who-

BOOM!

A shout rose up from the crowd as what used to be a wall was replaced by a hole and a dragon. The elaborate mechanical creature’s outer plating was a mismatch of bronze, iron, and steel, as though it had been dressed in a junkyard. And perched on its back was a man with a daring grin, who Ms. Springwarden found strangely familiar...

“Well! Ms. Springwarden, aren’t you moving up! The big boss himself, I wonder if you’ll outlast  his last four wives!” Finn shouted as he dismounted the dragon, landing with a roll and ending up right next to the bride-to-be.

Without opening her mouth, Eve spoke. “I am confident he will be her husband for the rest of his life,” she said. Her voice was unnatural, amateurish, and it sounded like it belonged in some sterile, form-over-function research lab, rather than a well-tuned dragon. Before anyone could react, she opened her jaws and snapped up the stunned man, soon feeding him to the wheels hidden behind her neck plating.

“Aw! Eve! I had planned this whole quip about how his factories have a great quantity of people and I’m about to increase the average quality!”

“So lie in your memoir.”

Many of the guests had fled the scene, with only a few hiding behind the benches, and Ms. Springwarden herself remained frozen to the spot. “Wh- who...?”

Finn swept into a deep bow, mockingly low. “Finnegan Shine, Ms. Springwarden. My friends call me Finn, but of course you never did. You may not remember me, and I sorely wish I could say the same. But now then...” He stepped backwards towards Eve, who lowered her head and opened her jaws. Finn leaned against her neck, feeling the whirr of the wheels making up her throat thrumming through her metal body. “They say marriage is for better or worse, right? What say you join your hubby in the ‘worse?’”

Eve’s distorted voice joined in once more, saying, “I remember you. That he is offering you a refusal is far more than I would have.”

The woman - having found a worse fate than being left at the altar - took a step back, shaking her head. “No... no. Please, no.”

To everyone’s surprise, the dragon snapped her mouth shut with a loud crash of metal, and Finn clambered back up onto her back. “Then it’s a damn lucky thing I’m not you, miss,” the man said, before the pair of them escaped through the dragon-sized hole in the wall.

Finn hugged Eve’s neck tight. One down, an unfortunate number to go. He just hoped his friends were having as much fun as he was.

[bri-flores]

Secrets

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland 

Characters: Azul Ashengrotto v.s  Idia Shroud

Reader: Female 

Warnings: Yandere content 

Other Info: Part one, heavy dialogue, probably bad spelling,  

The bell had rung announcing it was time to go back to the dorms. Students rushed out of the building and most started running as it seemed like it was going to rain. Unlike the others (Y/n) couldn’t afford to get a run not when her boyfriend could easily catch up to her if she waited for one of her friends to pick her up, and she honestly didn't feel like drowning in questions if he showed up. This resulted in the girl deciding on walking home it might be quite far, but much better than confronting him. The girl started walking as fast as she could while looking over her shoulder every once in a while trying to spot any of his silver hair; a dead giveaway that he was following her. A good ten minutes passed without the male appearing giving the girl a false sense of security. She stops next to a tree, deciding to take out the gift her friend had given her out of the bag. When suddenly she felt a hand grab her shoulder from behind. Her fist flew towards the figure, the person skillfully caught her attack and firmly held her hand, bruising it in the process.

“Angelfish! I’m not a punching bag.”

The maiden looked into the blue eyes of the tall figure, her heart overflowing with panic.

“Oh, it’s you Azul.” Soon as his name fell from her lips the male gripped her hand tighter making the girl winced. The young man took notice of her pained look, but ignored it.

“Azul? What happened to honey?” The boy jests.

“I apologize, my mind is completely scrambled that I forgot.”

“Oh angel fish, don’t fret I won't hold it against you.” Azul took a quick glance at her hand, he saw the mark he left, ignoring it as well, “Why were you so on-guard back there? Were you expecting someone to attack you.” He joked, making the maiden roll her eyes.

“You can never be too careful.”

“If that’s the case I'm walking you to your dorm for extra security. You’re too feeble.” He cheerily stated.

“I guess.” The pale male put his arm around her shoulders. “So how was your trip?”

“It was fun to say the least.” Her eyes sparkled with joy and excitement, remembering her wonderful time at the beach alongside her best friend. Her train of thought interrupted by the blue-eyed male.

“That’s all you have to say.”

“Well I got to see some sharks, Idia almost drowned and-”

“Wait my board game buddy almost drowned HA! I wish I could witness it.” (Y/n)’s hand instantly turned into a fist, and she swung her arm towards the male and it almost collided against his face. She glimpsed to the right seeing her hand was being held back once again by the silver haired male and to add insult to the injury the young man shook his head and mouth out truly pathetic. (Y/n)’s cheeks now scarlet and puffed, she will wipe that smirk out of him. Azul was now looking the other way while laughing at her pitiful attempt of a punch, she used this opportunity to use her left arm to smack him as hard as possible on the back of his head.

“What was that for?!” Azul removed his arm from her shoulder to start rubbing his head and immediately started to laugh. The maiden’s head now gazing at the grey sky, a visible pink hue of her cheeks,

“God, Azul, you’re so callous. No wonder you don’t have any friends.”

“I don’t need friends. All I need is you” The maiden shook her head, maybe Ace was right only stupidity comes out Azul’s mouth.

“Everyone needs friends. Even stone-cold, ruthless, heartless, overachievers like you,” the maiden smiled.

“I don’t need friends. It’s just a meaningless word and all humans are disappointing and besides, the leech twins are enough. You should be the one getting new friends” Azul argued back.

“And that’s the kind of talk that’ll have you being friends with cats, forever.”

“New friends?” She raised one eyebrow and looked up at him. The girl raised her hand, making the silver hair male raise his own prepared for another assault, but realize that she was just counting her fingers,

“Ace, Deuce and the others are great friends.”

“I doubt it.”

“See what I’m talking about!” Using the hand he raised up he pulled her into a tight embrace resting his chin on top of her head and smiling into her hair,

“Nope.” Azul responded smugly.

“You're impossible.” He let go of her, and they started to walk once again.

They were half-way when she realized that Azul wasn’t even wearing a jacket and wondered if he was getting cold, but remembering that this is the guy who used to live in the Coral Sea. Azul had watched (Y/n) get more and more goosebumps as well as how she rubbed her arms for heat during their way to her dorm. He didn’t want his angel fish to turn to ice, so he proceeded in taking off his grey coat and offering it to her, leaving him exposed to the rain. The girl tilted her head showing the boy what she had previously taken out of the bag; a black motorcycle jacket he perceived belonged to Idia. The girl heard a slightly inhuman, low growl coming from her partner at the sight of the object. Azul snatched it and fairly quickly threw it far away, (Y/n)’s eyes widened and her mind started going a mile per minute, she could feel her mind being clouded by anger and sadness. Once more handing his grey coat towards her, she couldn’t help but turn around and cross her arms. She could feel small droplets fall to her face and the wind growing colder. She suddenly felt a soft material being draped over her shoulders taking a peak she recognized to be a coat she refused to take. Turning to face Azul, she saw him staring into the ground while shifting his left leg  side-to-side. He raised his head making the best puppy eyes (Y/n) has ever seen,

“Well…”

“Thank you,” mumbled (Y/n) while putting on the clothing correctly, not seeing Azul smirking.

“What was that?”

“Thank you! Happy,” (Y/n) answer sarcastically.

“Was it that difficult?”

“Practically took ten years out of me,” she told him. They started walking once more. The sky got darker by the minute, the rain was dropping faster than before, and the wind got wilder, colder. For the girl it felt like she was walking through a hurricane, but for the young man, it felt like a sunny day.

“Angelfish.” The maiden turn to face him

“What?”

“Did Idia waste all his lottery money?” He hissed, something (Y/n) brushed off.

“No he didn’t, he said something about saving for something special.” Her hands clenched into fists.

“Don’t tell me, more video games.” He sarcastically noted.

“Not exactly.” Azul could see how (Y/n) was scratching her neck in an awkward manner.

“Why even ask me this?”

“Just wondering.”

“Well wonder to him not me.” With that in mind he decided on pushing her buttons.

“You know I been wonder-“

“What did I just tell you?”

“Don't fret is not about Idia, it’s for you Angelfish,” Azul stops her “did you gain weight because last time I saw you,” the male lightly tapped her stomach “this was flat.”

“What!!! No I… I Haven’t!!! Is just your imagination.” The girl’s face quickly turned crimson. Looking away from him, her wide eyes in realization of what that meant. Grabbing her chin turning to face him, he spoke once more,

“Don’t lie to me. I get it beach food is exquisite, but this is a bit over bored.”

“Okay, so what?! You know I stress eat” (Y/n) tried putting an embarrassing facade, but Azul is no fool and easily saw through it, but dismissed it. “I’m not buying that. Stress about what? You had two months to worry about nothing.” She could hear her heart beating quickly, her mind trying to think of any excuse but came out blank every time, so she did the best next thing.

“Shut up!” The male slightly cringed at the maiden’s harsh words that seemed to hit a sensitive spot in his heart.

“Okay I’ll drop the subject.” He knew pushing the subject would continue to aggravate her beyond the tipping point after her outburst but he knew that this was more than just food. After the girl had cooled down from her confrontation with the male she decided to speak up again, “Talking about months, what did you do when I was gone? You never did tell me.”

“How I am supposed to tell you when you've been avoiding me like the plague since your return.”

“I apologize it was never my intention to avoid you.” Her voice sounded honey-like, a telltale sign for him that she was lying.

“Is that so? Well I started to earn more money to start our future together.”

“Future together?” (Y/n) asked herself under her breath. Her eyebrows rise gradually in realization. Her action was misinterpreted by the male to be one of worries, so he held her hands to explain what he meant, “I want to start a family with you.”

“Don't you think we are going too fast.”

“Not at all,” responded Azul, ignoring the fact he tightened his grip around her hand, injuring even further.

“Since when did we decide this?” (Y/n) inquired in an ill tone while trying to pried her hand off his iron grip.

“When you left for your trip. Or do you think I will not be a suitable husb-”

“NO! No, that's not it at all.”

“Your face is telling me otherwise.” He loosen his grip enough for the girl to pull it. Her hand now purple than its original color, something the male considered ironic. To reassure her of his love he spoke once more but in a softer more gentle tone, “You do know I only fancy you, my angel fish. No one will love you the way I do, remember that.” Those words click something on her brain. Guilt, sorrow, regret slowly washed over her. Had she made a mistake? Perhap. A million things started going through her already scrambled mind. To not make things more awkward the girl started walking back up again not caring if the male followed. The mild rain had now turned into a full on storm.

“Angelfish”

“What now Azul?” The maiden snapped. Her tears were covered by the heavy rain but he could tell what fell from the sky and what fell from her eyes.

“Planning on going to Ignihyde?” Azul told her trying to lighten up the mood.

“No, why?” (Y/n) asked, confused at his question. He laughed, “Because you passed your dorm.”

“That can’t be” turning around she did indeed pass her dorm, how could that be? Her hands came up to her face to cover her embarrassment.

“You're too careless. I’m glad I came along.” He took one of her hands off her face to guide her. By doing that the girl could see how truly beautiful her partner looked. His face and upper body tainted by the water, wilded silver hair tamed by the small droplets, his features held gentleness and delicateness under the rain. This made the maiden look down, shame taking over her. She truly messed up on her decisions. How she wishes she could manipulate time. They arrive in front of her dorm. The silence broken by the young man, “Is Grim home?”

“No, he said he was going to hang out with ADeuce. Why?”

“Grim was going to give some things,” The maiden shot him a perplexed look “it's a secret, of course,” he added.

“If you want, I can go check his-”

“No no I’ll tell him to give it to me another day.”

“Oh, okay. Goodbye.”

“That’s not the tone I want to hear,” he murmured. “Before I forget, tell the Idia we have a match tomorrow.” Azul added.

“Okay!”

“Well I’m glad you're back, I missed you so much, Angelfish.” (Y/n) could hear the happy delight in his voice. The silver-haired male waved farewell and started walking towards his own dorm which was not far from her own. Arriving at his dorm, he entered the Mostro Lounge; The leech twins waiting for his commands. He took a seat at one of the couches not caring if he got it wet in the process. Once seated Azul took the mobile device out of his back pocket and started calling gold-eyed senior's number while directing the twins towards him.

“Hello Idia, It’s Azul, where are you?”

“I’m in my room. Need something?”

“Yes,” He hisses, “You wouldn’t mind if I go? Right” he told him in a bitter tone.

“Of course not!” The silver-haired man cared very little about the senior’s response even if he said no, he would still go.

“I’ll be right there.”

He was going to fix this even if it means getting his hands filthy.

[laces-of-life]

Spoilers for A Court of Silver Flames

Enjoy this extra scene featuring Azriel from the BAM! edition of A Court of Silver Flames. 

The river house had finally fallen quiet after the raucous Winter Solstice party, the faelights dimming to cast little pools of gold amid the deep shadow of the longest night of the year. Amren, Mor, and Varian had finally gone to bed, but Azriel found himself lingering downstairs. He knew he should get some sleep. He’d need it come dawn, for the snowball battle up at the cabin. Cassian had mentioned no less than six times tonight that he had a secret plan regarding his so-called impending victory. Az had let his brother boast. Especially since Azriel had been planning his own victory for a year now. Cassian wouldn’t know what was coming for him. And Az fully planned on capitalizing on the fact that Nesta likely wouldn’t let Cassian sleep much tonight. Az snickered to himself, to the listening shadows around him. Sleep, they seemed to whisper in his ear. Sleep. I wish I could, he answered silently. But sleep so rarely found him these days, Too many razor-sharp thoughts sliced him any time he grew still long enough for them to strike. Too many wants and needs left his skin overheated and pulling taut across his bones. So he slept only when his body gave out, and even then only for a few hours. Azriel surveyed the empty family room, presents and ribbons littering the furniture. Cassian and Nesta hadn’t reappeared downstairs, though that came as no surprise. He was elated for his brother, and yet... Azriel couldn’t stop it. The envy in his chest. Of Cassian, and Rhys. He knew he’d be swallowed by it if he went up to his bedroom, so he’d remained down here by the dying light of the fire. But even the silence weighed too heavily, and though the shadows kept him company, as they always had, as they always would, he found himself leaving the room. Entering the foyer. Soft steps padded from under the stair archway, and there she was. The faelights gilded Elain’s unbound hair, making her glow like the sun at dawn. She halted, her breath catching in her throat. “I...” He watched her swallow. She clutched a small gift in her hands. “I was coming to leave this on your pile of presents. 1 forgot to give it to you earlier.” Lie. Well, the second part was a lie. He didn’t need his shadows to read her tone, the slight tightening of her face. She’d waited until everyone was asleep before venturing back down, where she’d leave her gift amongst his other, opened presents, subtle and unnoticed. Elain closed the distance, and her breathing quickened as she again paused, now a scant foot away. She extended the wrapped gift, her hand shaking. “Here.” Az tried not to look at his scarred fingers as they took the gift. She hadn’t bought her mate a present. But she’d gotten Azriel one last year—a headache powder he kept on his nightstand at the House of Wind. Not to use, but just to look at. Which he'd done every night he’d slept there. Or attempted to sleep there. Azriel unwrapped the box, glancing at the card that merely said, You might find these useful at the House these days, and then opened the lid. Two small, bean-shaped fabric blobs lay within. Elain murmured, “you put them in your ears, and they block any sound. With Nesta and Cassian living there with you...” He chuckled, unable to suppress the impulse. “No wonder you didn’t want me to open it in front of everyone.” Elain’s mouth twitched into a smile. “Nesta wouldn’t appreciate the joke.” He offered her a smile back. “I wasn’t sure if I should give you your present.” He left the rest unspoken. Because her mate was here, sleeping a level up. Because her mate had been in the family room and Azriel had needed to stay by the door the whole time because he couldn’t stand the sight of it, the scent of their mating bond, and needed to have the option of leaving if it became too much. Elain’s large brown eyes flickered, well aware of all that. Just as he knew she was well aware of why Azriel so rarely came to family dinners these days. But tonight, here in the dark and quiet, with no one to see... He pulled the small velvet box from the shadows around him. Opened it for her. Elain sucked in a soft breath that whispered over his skin. His shadows skittered back at the sound. They’d always been prone to vanish when she was around. The golden necklace seemed ordinary—its chain unremarkable, the amulet tiny enough that it could be dismissed as an everyday charm. It was a small, flat rose fashioned of stained glass, designed so that when held to the light, the true depth of the colors would become visible. A thing of secret, lovely beauty. “It’s beautiful,” she whispered, lifting it from the box. The golden faelight shone through the little glass facets, setting the charm glowing with hues of red and pink and white. Azriel let his shadows whisk away the box as she said softly, “Put it on me?” His head went quiet. But he took the necklace, opening the clasp as she exposed her back, sweeping her hair up in one hand to bare her long, creamy neck. He knew it was wrong, but there he was, sliding the necklace around her. Letting his scarred fingers touch her immaculate skin. Letting them brush the side of her throat, savoring the velvet-soft texture. Elain shivered, and he took a damn long time fastening the clasp. Azriel’s fingers lingered at her nape, atop the first knob of her spine. Slowly, Elain pivoted into his touch. Until his palm lay flat against her neck. It had never gone this far. They’d exchanged looks, the occasional brush of their fingers, but never this. Never blatant, unrestricted touching. Wrong—it was so wrong. He didn’t care. He needed to know what the skin of her neck tasted like. What those perfect lips tasted like. Her breasts. Her sex. He needed her coming on his tongue Azriel’s cock strained behind his pants, aching so fiercely he could hardly think. He prayed she didn’t peer down. Prayed she didn’t understand the shift in his scent. He had only allowed himself these thoughts in the dead of night. Had only allowed his hand to fist his cock and think about her then, when even his shadows had gone to sleep. How that beautiful face might appear as he entered her, what sounds she’d make. Elain bit her lower lip, and it took every ounce of Azriel’s restraint to keep from putting his own teeth there. “I should go,” Elain said, but made no move to leave. “Yes,” he said, his thumb sweeping in long strokes along the side of her throat. Her arousal drifted up to him, and his eyes nearly rolled back in his head at the sweet scent. He’d beg on his knees for a chance to taste it. But Azriel just stroked her neck again. 

Elain shuddered, drifting closer. So close one deep breath would brush her breasts against his chest. She looked up at him, her face so trusting and hopeful and open that he knew she had no idea that he had done unspeakable things that sullied his hands far beyond their scars. 

Such terrible things that it was a sacrilege for his fingers to touch her skin, tainting her with his presence. 

But he could have this. This one moment, and maybe a taste, and that would be it. 

“Yes,” Elain breathed, like she read the decision. Just this taste in the dead of the longest night of the year, where only the Mother might witness them. 

Azriel’s hand slid up her neck, burying in her thick hair. Tilting her face the way he wanted it. Elain’s mouth parted slightly, her eyes scanning his before fluttering shut. Offer and permission. He nearly groaned with relief and need as he lowered his head toward hers. Azriel. Rhys’s voice thundered through him, halting him mere inches from Elain’s sweet mouth. Azriel. Unrelenting command filled his name, and Azriel looked up. Rhysand stood atop the staircase. Glowering down at them. My office. Now. Rhys vanished, and Azriel was left standing before Elain, who still awaited his kiss. His stomach twisted as he pulled his hand from her hair and stepped back. Forced himself to say, “This was a mistake.” She opened her eyes, hurt and confusion warring there before she whispered, “I’m sorry.” “You don’t — Don’t apologize,” he managed to say. “Never apologize, It’s | who should...” He shook his head, unable to stand the bleakness he'd brought to her expression. “Goodnight.” Azriel winnowed into shadows before she could say anything, appearing at the doors to Rhys’s study a heartbeat later. His shadows whispered in his ear that Elain had gone upstairs. Rhys sat at his desk, fury a moonless night across his face. He asked softly, “Are you out of your mind?” Azriel donned the frozen mask he’d perfected while in his father’s dungeon. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Rhys’s power rippled through the room like a dark cloud. “I’m talking about you, about to kiss Elain, in the middle of a hall where anyone could see you,” he snarled. “Including her mate.” Azriel stiffened. Let his cold rage rise to the surface, the rage he only ever let Rhysand see, because he knew his brother could match it. “What if the Cauldron was wrong?” Rhysand blinked. “What of Mor, Az?” 

Azriel ignored the question. “The Cauldron chose three sisters. Tell me how it’s possible that my two brothers are with two of those sisters, yet the third was given to another.” He had never before dared speak the words aloud. 

Rhys’s face drained of color. “You believe you deserve to be her mate?” 

Azriel scowled. “I think Lucien will never be good enough for her, and she has no interest in him, anyway.” 

“So you'll what?” Rhys’s voice was pure ice. “Seduce her away from him?” Azriel said nothing. He hadn’t gotten that far with his planning, certainly not beyond the fantasies he pleasured himself to. Rhys growled, “Allow me to make one thing very clear. You are to stay away from her.” “You can’t order me to do that.” 

“Oh, I can, and I will. If Lucien finds out you’re pursuing her, he has every right to defend their bond as he sees fit. Including invoking the Blood Duel.” 

“That’s an Autumn Court tradition.” The battle to the death was so brutal that it was only enacted in rare cases. Despite being an outsider, Azriel had wanted to invoke it when he'd found Mor all those years ago. Had been ready to challenge both Beron and Eris to Blood Duels and kill them both. Only Mor’s right to claim their heads in vengeance had kept him from doing so. “Lucien, as Beron’s son, has the right to demand it of you.” “I'll defeat him with little effort.” Pure arrogance laced every word, but it was true. “I know.” Rhys’s eyes flickered. “And your doing so will rip apart any fragile peace and alliances we have, not only with the Autumn Court, but also with the Spring Court and Jurian and Vassa.” Rhys bared his teeth. “So you will leave Elain alone. If you need to fuck someone, go to a pleasure hall and pay for it, but stay away from her.” Azriel snarled softly. “Snarl all you want.” Rhys leaned back in his chair. “But if I see you panting after her again, I’ll make you regret it.” Rhys had rarely threatened punishment or pulled rank. It stunned Azriel enough that it knocked him from his rage. Rhys jerked his chin toward the door. “Get out.” Azriel rucked in his wings and left without another word, stalking through the house and onto the front lawn to sit in the frigid starlight. To let the frost in his veins match the air around him. Until he felt nothing. Was again nothing at all. Then he flew to the House of Wind, knowing that if he slept in the riverside manor, he’d do something he regretted. He’d been so vigilant about keeping away from Elain as much as possible, and had stayed up here to avoid her, and tonight . . . tonight had proved he’d been right to do so. 

He aimed for the training pit, giving in to the need to work off the temptation, the rage and frustration and writhing need. He found it already occupied. His shadows had not warned him. It was too late to bank without appearing like he was running. Azriel landed in the ring a few feet from where Gwyn practiced in the chill night, her sword glimmering like ice in the moonlight. She stopped mid-slice, whirling to face him. “I’m sorry. I knew you all were going to the river house, so I didn’t think anyone would mind if I came up here, and—” “It’s fine. I came to retrieve something I forgot.” The lie was smooth and cool, as he knew his face was. His shadows peered over his wings at her. The young priestess smiled—and Azriel thought it might have been directed at his curious shadows. But she just hooked her coppery-brown hair behind an arched ear. “I was trying to cut the ribbon.” She pointed with her sword at the white ribbon, which seemed to glow silver. “Aren’t you cold?” His breath clouded in front of him. Gwyn shrugged. “Once you get moving, you stop noticing it.” He nodded, silence falling. For a heartbeat, their gazes met. He blocked out the bloody memory that flashed, so at odds with the Gwyn he saw before him now. Her head ducked, as if remembering it too. That he’d been the one who'd found her that day at Sangravah. “Happy Solstice,” she said, as much a dismissal as it was a holiday blessing. He snorted. “Are you kicking me out?” Gwyn’s teal eyes flashed with alarm. “No! I mean, I don’t mind sharing the ring. I just... I know you like to be alone.” Her mouth quirked to the side, crinkling the freckles on her nose. “Is that why you came up here?” Sort of. “I forgot something,” he reminded her. “At two in the morning?” Pure amusement glittered in her stare. Better than the pain and grief he’d spied a moment before. So he offered her a crooked smile. “I can’t sleep without my favorite dagger.” “A comfort to every growing child.” 

Azriel’s lips twitched. He refrained from mentioning that he did indeed sleep with a dagger. Many daggers. Including one under his pillow. 

“How was the party?” Her breath curled in front of her mouth, and one of his shadows darted out to dance with it before twirling back to him. Like it heard some silent music. “Fine,” he said, and realized a heartbeat later that it wasn’t a socially acceptable answer. “It was nice.” Not much better. So he asked, “Did you and the priestesses have a celebration?” “Yes, though the service was the main highlight.” “T see.” She angled her head, hair shining like molten metal. “Do you sing?” He blinked. It wasn’t every day that people took him by surprise, but . . .“Why do you ask?” “They call you shadowsinger. Is it because you sing?” “I am a shadowsinger—it’s not a title that someone just made up.” She shrugged again, irreverently. Az narrowed his eyes, studying her. “Do you, though?” she pressed. “Sing?” Azriel couldn’t help his soft chuckle. “Yes.” She opened her mouth to ask more, but he didn’t feel like explaining. Or demonstrating, since that was surely what she’d ask next. So Az jerked his chin to the sword dangling from her hand. “Try cutting the ribbon again.” “What—with you watching?” He nodded. She considered, and he wondered if she’d say no, but Gwyn blew out a breath, steadied her feet and balance, and sliced. A beautiful, precise blow, but it didn’t sever the ribbon. “Again,” he ordered, rubbing his hands against the cold, grateful for its bracing bite and the distraction of this impromptu lesson. 

Gwyn sliced again, but the ribbon remained unyielding.

“You’re turning the blade a fraction as it comes parallel to the ground,” Azriel explained, drawing his Illyrian blade from down his back. “Watch.” He slowly demonstrated, rotating his wrist where she did. “You see how you open up right here?” He corrected his position. “Keep your wrist like that. The blade is an extension of your arm.” Gwyn tried the movement as slowly as he had, and he watched her self-correct, fighting against the urge to open up her wrist and rotate the blade. She did it three times before she stopped falling into the bad habit. “I blame Cassian for this. He’s too busy making eyes at Nesta to notice such mistakes these days.” Azriel laughed. “I’ll give you that.” Gwyn smiled broadly. “Thank you.” Azriel dipped his head in a sketch of a bow, something restless settling in him. Even his shadows had calmed. As if content to lounge on his shoulders and watch. But—sleep. He needed to at least attempt to get some. “Happy Solstice,” Azriel said before aiming for the archway into the House. “Don’t stay out too much longer. You'll freeze.” Gwyn nodded her farewell, again facing the ribbon. A warrior sizing up an opponent, all traces of that charming irreverence gone. Azriel entered the warmth of the stairwell, and as he descended, he could have sworn a faint, beautiful singing followed him. Could have sworn his shadows sang in answer. He slept as well as could be expected, but when Azriel returned to the river house to gather his presents before dawn, he found Elain’s necklace amid the pile. He pocketed it. Spent the rest of his day, even the blasted snowball fight, with every intention of returning it to the shop in the Palace of Thread and Jewels. But when he returned from the cabin in the mountains, he didn’t go to the market square. Instead, he found himself at the library beneath the House of Wind, standing before Clotho as the clock chimed seven in the evening. He slid the small box across her desk. “If you see Gwyn, would you give this to her?” Clotho angled her hooded head, and her enchanted pen wrote on a piece of paper, A Solstice gift from you? Azriel shrugged. “Don’t tell her it came from me.” Why? “Does she need to know? Just tell her it was a gift from Rhys.” That would be a lie. He avoided the urge to cross his arms, not wanting to look intimidating. He blocked out the memory that flashed—of his mother cringing before his father, the male standing with crossed arms in such a way that made his displeasure known before he opened his hateful mouth. “Look, I. . .” Az searched for the words, his voice becoming quiet. “If there’s another priestess here who might appreciate it, give it to them. But I’m not taking that necklace with me when I leave.” He waited for Clotho’s pen to finish writing. Your eyes are sad, Shadowsinger. He offered her a grim smile. “I lost the snowball fight today.” Clotho was smart enough to see through his deflection. She wrote, I'll give it to Gwyneth. Tell her a friend left it for her. He wouldn’t go so far as to call Gwyn a friend, but . . . “Fine. Thank you.” Clotho’s pen moved once more. She deserves something as beautiful as this. I thank you for the joy it shall bring to her. Something sparked in Azriel’s chest, but he only nodded his thanks and left. He could picture it, though, as he ascended the stairs back to the House proper. How Gwyn’s teal eyes might light upon seeing the necklace. For whatever reason . . . he could see it. But Azriel tucked away the thought, consciously erasing the slight smile it brought to his face. Buried the image down deep, where it glowed quietly. A thing of secret, lovely beauty.

[kiapet2]

Aperture Sides Facility, Chapter 7: Nice Job Breaking It, Hero

Masterpost

Chapter Summary: An unlikely alliance is made.

Chapter Warnings: Captivity, Death Mentions

“So, how are you holding up? Because I’m a potato.”

Wind whips at your clothing and hair, that and the weightless feeling in your stomach the only indications that you are falling. You do your best to glower at the tuber hanging in front of you in the air.

“It’s your own fault. You’re the one who insulted him.”

The potato scoffs. “He normally doesn’t care what you say about him. Owns it, even. This... temper tantrum... is your fault for putting him in charge of the facility in the first place!”

“My fault?” you say incredulously. “Like you gave me a choice!”

“You could have just let me kill you,” the potato says. “It really is terrible etiquette to depose your host, you know.”

You roll your eyes. “I’ll be sure to remember that next time.”

There’s a sudden jolt as your feet and then your back connect with something smooth and inclined, and then you find that in place of the elevator shaft you were just falling down, you are now sliding down a clear plastic tube.

“Ah. It looks like he caught us,” the potato says casually from behind. “I’m sure that wherever we’re going is simply delightful, don’t you?

You don’t have a good response to that so you choose to ignore it. You try to look at your surroundings, not sure whether to be relieved to have been saved from the seemingly bottomless elevator shaft or worried about where you might be going now. The tube you’re in changes trajectory quickly, going both up and down and taking sharp turns to either side. Rooms whizz by too quickly to get a good look, but you can occasionally recognize the distinctive white of test chambers.

That’s probably where you’re going now. You only just won your freedom, and now you’re being thrown right back in.

“Since we have all this time together,” the potato drawls, “Let’s give you some facts about our situation, hmm? Remus is the Creativity Core. The original Creativity Core, made years before our dear Roman first came into being.”

“Yes, I knew that,” you say impatiently.

“Well then,” the potato says, “You must have heard how Remus was ‘corrupted’. But do you know what that actually means?”

“I suspect you’re going to tell me.”

“It means, my sweet, stupid Thomas, that Remus isn’t constrained by so-called rules and morals the way your dear little friends are. He’s Creativity in its most raw, unbridled form. No inhibitions, no control, nothing to stop him from doing whatever the hell he wants.”

The potato’s voice turns mocking. “And you just put him in charge of the entire facility.”

The sound of slow claps echoes through the tube.

“Ah, good,” the potato says, “I was wondering if that function still worked.”

“It’s not like I had much choice,” you snap. “If you remember, you were trying to kill me at the time!”

“Yes, well, now everyone in Aperture is going to die. That’s clearly so much better, thank goodness for your quick thinking!”

You groan in frustration and run your hands through your hair. He’s right about that last part- replacing Remus was a mistake, one made in desperation maybe, but one which may still cost you your life.

Wait. He said-

“What do you mean, ‘everyone in Aperture?’” you say. “Are the others in danger?”

“Of course not,” the potato drawls. “Having a maniac at the head of this facility wouldn’t affect them at all, it’s not like they’re inherently connected to it or anything.”

You’ve just opened your mouth to respond when the tube splits, your body sliding into one fork while the potato is sucked into the other. In a moment, he’s gone from your view.

You’ve only just had time to register the separation when suddenly the tube ends and you find yourself flying through the air. Your feet hit solid ground, and though your boots stop most of the force of your landing you still find yourself overbalancing from the forward momentum and falling flat on your face. Your nose explodes into pain as it connects with the floor.

“Augh!” Tears form in your eyes and you gingerly feel at your nose. It isn’t broken, or at least you think it isn’t- would you be able to tell if it was?- and your fingers come away without blood, so you think it’s probably okay. Smarts like hell, though.

You sit up and look around, blinking the tears away. You’re in a small room, bare except for a button and connected door. The area around you is sterile and empty, with the Core-turned-potato nowhere to be seen. You’re not sure whether to feel disappointed or relieved- he isn’t exactly your favorite person right now, but at least if he were here you’d have someone to talk to.

As if on cue, a familiar voice fills the room.

Heeeey, Tommy-boy! Long time no see! Did you enjoy the ride? Do you think if you hit your nose again it would start gushing blood?

You grimace at the mental image, resisting the urge to feel again at your nose, then turn and cross your arms at the nearest security camera.

“Either let me go, or just get on with it!”

Touchy, touchy, Remus says. Well, if you’re that eager to get to testing, who am I to stop you?

Some sort of clear cylinder lowers into the center of the room, then slides open in front.

Well? Remus says as you move forward to tentatively inspect it. Are you going to get in?

It’s an elevator, you realize, but much smaller than you’re used to, almost claustrophobic if it weren’t for the clear walls- which will likely be nerve-wracking when the thing is actually in motion. You suspect the unsettling elements of the design are deliberate on Remus’ part, which just makes you even more certain that getting into this thing is not a good idea.

Or if you want, you could stay here and get hungrier and thirstier until you curl up and die. I bet I could get a lot of data from that!

You bite your lip and turn away, looking again at your surroundings. Surely, there’s some way out of here that isn’t that elevator. And yet, no matter where you look you’re trapped in. There’s no gaps in the walls to shoot portals through, and not enough height to build up momentum and try to launch yourself out.

You go back and stand in front of the elevator, your stomach twisting itself into knots. You just got out of the testing chambers- could you really bring yourself to go back? But what choice do you even have, when the alternative is staying here and hoping someone finds you before you die of thirst?

Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you step forward into the elevator and watch as the doors close around you.

Now I’ve taken a look at Jan-Jan’s tests, Remus says as the elevator begins to rise, and they were okay and all, but it’s pretty clear he isn’t the Creativity Core, you know? I mean, toxic sludge and balls of electricity? It’s a start, I guess, but why limit yourself to the same old stuff when there’s so many fun ways to kill people?

The elevator slows to a stop, revealing a small testing chamber.

So that’s why I’ve come up with newer, deadlier obstacles for you to solve! First up: deadly lasers! I wouldn’t touch them if I were you- or at least if you enjoy having ten fingers. Have fun!

The doors open and you step out into the room, which looks strangely familiar. After a moment it hits you.

“I’ve already done this test chamber,” you say, then grimace, mentally kicking yourself. Sure Thomas, tell the deranged AI he needs to make his tests harder, that’ll turn out well for you.

Yes, but this one has deadly lasers, which automatically makes it better, Remus’ voice says petulantly. You caught me at a bad time! We used to have hundreds of test chambers locked away, but now I have to either use good old JAN-9000’s rooms or make them from scratch. So solve your silly little laser puzzle so you can get to the good stuff!

Wonderful, you think sarcastically, super looking forward to it. Then you sigh and just solve the puzzle.

Like the test chamber you previously solved, the solution is as simple as redirecting the laser with a pair of portals, and before you know it you’re back in the elevator. The one after is similarly simple, and involves using a special glass cube to redirect the lazers while Remus cheerfully narrates what they would do to you if you messed up and hit one. It’s almost nostalgic, really, though Remus’ descriptions of the danger are more gleeful where Virgil’s were more stressed.

By the time you get back into the cramped-yet-uncomfortably-exposed elevator, your heart is starting to calm down just a bit. It’s not like you haven’t done this before, right? Sure, you had the others then, and you’re pretty sure they’re the only reason you’re alive right now, but. It’s fine. You’re fine. And if you keep thinking it enough, maybe you’ll actually believe it.

The next test chamber forms before your eyes, panels pulling into place to make floors and walls while Remus tuts and apologizes to “Daddy” for making a mess. You do your best to ignore him as you step forward, finding a deep pit with a moving platform going across, directly into the path of a laser.

After a moment of surveying the room, you use your portals to get to the familiar form of a cube dispenser. Just like every other time you’ve used a cube dispenser, it promptly drops a cube. Unlike every other time you’ve used one, another object drops out right after the cube, one that shrieks as it falls, then bounces off the cube’s top and onto the ground with a series of “ow”s.

For a moment your stomach flutters with the hope that it might be one of your friends. Then you realize that the object that fell was much too small, and hit far too quietly, to be a Core- or at least a Core living in a body that isn’t a potato.

Just your luck, that the one person in this facility you were reunited with would be the one you least wanted to see. You go over anyways, kneeling down and poking at the potato lying on the ground.

“Hey, um, are you alright?”

“I’ve been better,” the potato mutters into the floor.

“I take it you got sidetracked?” you say, picking up the potato and not even bothering to hide your smirk. “Had a little rollercoaster ride in the cube system?”

“Yes, yes, hilarious,” the potato says. “If you picked me up just to mock me, I’d kindly ask you to just leave me here to rot, please.”

“And here I thought Roman was dramatic,” you say.

“Ah, yes, dearest Roman,” the potato says, a sinister little smile in his voice. “How might he be doing, do you think? It looked like he fell quite far.”

Your knuckles creak as your hands form into fists. “I swear to you, if he isn’t okay-”

“You’ll what? Tear me out of my own body and replace me with someone who put me in a literal potato? Oh, wait, you already did that!”

You take a deep breath, forcing your muscles to relax. “You know what? This isn’t worth it. I need to find the others, and you’re just wasting my time.”

You set the potato down and turn, preparing to take the cube and step back onto the moving platform.

“What if I said I knew how to find them?”

You freeze, then turn back. “You know where the others are?”

“Perhaps.”

You crouch down and pick the potato up again. “Where are they?!”

“Right, because I both know the exact location and would be willing to tell you if I did.”

“But you’ll help me find him?” you say insistently.

“Me, help you?” the potato says. “This situation is your doing, so why would I possibly want to help you?”

You hold the potato up to eye level, giving him a glare.

“Because this is as much your fault as mine. You’re going to help me fix it, or I will throw you down into the deepest depths of this facility I can find and leave you to rot.”

For a moment you’re afraid you went too far, but the potato just gives a deep chuckle. “Well Thomas, I must say I’m impressed. I didn’t know you had it in you. Since you asked so nicely, I will help you find the others, on one condition: you restore me to my rightful place at the head of this facility.

You almost drop him in shock. “What? No! You being in control here was what caused this problem in the first place!”

The potato sighs. “Do you know what my intended purpose is, Thomas?”

“Putting people through rat mazes and then killing them?”

The potato continues as if you hadn’t said anything. “I am the System Preservation Core. I kept this facility running when everyone else had failed, forwarded its interests above all else for decades until you replaced me and threw it all away.”

“Forwarded its interests above human lives?” you say incredulously.

“Of course.”

You scowl down at the potato. “So how do I know you’re not just going to kill me the second you get back control?”

“Thomas,” the potato replies dryly, “I think you’ve proven once and for all that it is much greater of a threat to this facility to try to kill you than to let you go.”

There’s no way you can trust that, not when this Core lies so easily. Then again, some part of your brain whispers, there’s nothing to stop you from going back on the agreement later on if need be. It’s not like he can do much as a potato.

“All right,” you find yourself saying. “When I’ve found my friends, we’ll put you back where you were.” The declaration hangs in the air between you, and you silently hope you haven’t just made a terrible mistake.

“Right then,” the potato says, businesslike. “We’re going to need some way for you to carry me, preferably not in your hands as I absolutely relish the idea of being dropped mid-jump. Wait, what are you-”

Before you can think better of it, you find yourself taking the potato and spearing it onto one of the portal’s front tines, making its occupant yelp.

“Did you just stab me?” he shrieks.

“I didn’t- I mean I just-” you stammer, then jump as the potato lets out another yelp.

“I- whoa. Okay. That portal gun must have Magnesium or something in it; I think my power just went up half a bolt.”

“So- you’re good then?” you say.

He huffs. “As good as I can be as a potato, I suppose.”

You slump in relief so hard you need to steady yourself on the wall. You don’t like this Core, obviously, but you really didn’t feel like becoming a murderer today.

“At any rate,” the potato says, “I might as well put this processing power to use, since I doubt you’ll be of much help. If you need me I’ll be doing some scheming. See y-”

The potato’s voice cuts out, and his light goes dark.

Okay, so maybe you spoke too soon on the not-having-murdered-anyone thing.

“Uh, potato guy?” you say nervously, poking at the potato. “Buddy? You good there?”

After a moment the yellow light blinks back on.

“Huh? What happened? How long have I been out?”

“Er, thirty seconds? More or less?” you say.

He hrms. “Well, I suppose that’s better than nothing. The extra half a volt helps, but it can only go so far. If I think too hard I’m going to fry this lousy tuber.”

“Wonderful, I’m sure that won’t be a problem,” you mutter. The sarcasm makes your tone sound almost identical to the potato’s, which gives you a weird, almost deja-vu-like feeling.

You shake the feeling off, hefting the portal gun and using it to grab the nearby cube. “Are you at least ready to go, Mr. Potato Head?”

The potato huffs. “Do keep making up ridiculous nicknames for me, it’s not like I have a real name or anything.”

“Oh, right,” you say. “Remus called you Jan, right? Or, uh, Janny?”

“Janus,” the potato hisses.

You raise an eyebrow. “What was that?”

The potato hesitates for a moment, before it sighs and says, “My name is Janus.”

You mull that over for a moment. A bit unusual, but not bad as names go.

Taking a deep breath, you move forward, stepping onto the moving platform and preparing to finish the puzzle.

“Alright then, Janus,” you say. “Looks like we’re a team.”