#it was missing her hours and i also wanted to practice drawing hair

[spaceprincessleia]

"One path, one choice. We win, or everyone dies."

[cheoliehansolie]

Green Mangoes

Summary: When Chan catches you eating green mangoes, he can't help but spiral.

Word Count: ~ 2.3k

Pairing: Lee Chan x fem reader

Warnings: mentions of pregnancy

an: This was something that I mainly wrote for myself because I found it funny in my head so if it's not funny or entertaining, that's why. As always, if you liked reading this, please reblog or leave a comment. If you have any suggestions or you just want to talk, send me an ask and we can be friends 💕

To read more, check out my masterlist.

---

You had been up for a few hours enjoying the little alone time you get since you moved in with your boyfriend. You and Chan recently moved in together and while you love spending time with him, sometimes you miss living on your own which is why you find comfort in the silent mornings.

Chan got home pretty late last night from practice which is why he was in bed at 10:30 in the morning. It was a win-win situation, you got your morning alone and Chan got to make up for the sleep he missed out on.

You had spent your morning making breakfast and reading once you finished eating, and now you were sitting on your couch nursing a cup of tea and watching an Indian comedy show. Normally when you and Chan watch TV together, you steer clear of those types of shows since Chan won’t be able to understand them. 

But now with Chan sound asleep in your bedroom, you’re giggling quietly to yourself as you watch the different skits unfold on screen. To your surprise, less than five minutes later, you hear the door of your shared bedroom open and out walks your sleepy boyfriend, hair adorably messy.

“Good morning, babe.” you say from your seat on the couch.

“Morning.” he says tiredly as he makes his way to the couch to join you.

“I didn’t wake you, right?” you ask, concern lacing your voice as you card your fingers through his disheveled hair. 

Chan melts into your touch and responds, “No, I didn’t feel like staying in bed any longer. I also wanted to cuddle with you but you weren’t there any more.” he whines.

“Aww, well I’m here now so we can cuddle. Let me just get situated” you say.

You put your empty tea mug on the coffee table in front of you and lift the blanket on your lap gesturing for him to join you. Chan wastes no time getting comfy under the blanket and wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Do you want me to change the channel?” you ask, drawing attention to the comedy show playing on the TV.

“No, it’s fine. I’m not really paying attention to it anyways.” he says and you feel him drawing small shapes on your body.

“Suit yourself.” you say as you bring your attention back to the show.

A few minutes later, you’re still snuggled into Chan’s arms and you find yourself letting out a soft scandalized gasp at the conversation unfolding on screen.

“What happened?” Chan asks, instantly curious as he peers up at your face through his lashes.

“Basically, those two people on stage are husband and wife and they’re talking about an argument they had. See that guy standing to the side?” you ask, pointing to the screen.

“Yeah, what about him?”

“He said something along the lines of ‘stop giving her reasons to argue with you and instead give her a reason to eat green mangoes’ to the husband.”

“What does that mean?” Chan asks, enjoying listening to you explain things to him.

“Apparently women crave sour foods when they’re pregnant so the other guy is basically telling the husband to get his wife pregnant.”

Your boyfriend chuckles slightly and he doesn’t think much of the conversation as he continues snuggling into your side. But a few days later, he’s instantly reminded of that moment as he stands in the entryway of your shared living room.

Chan had spent the entire day in the studio working with Sonnyoung and the other Performance Team members to think of choreography for their upcoming comeback, but they had hit a wall. Soonyoung decided to let the guys go sooner than expected because everyone was getting frustrated.

Chan was excited that he’s able to leave earlier so he can spend more time with you. He didn’t tell you he was coming home sooner so he could surprise you but when he comes in, he sees you scrolling on your phone, mid snack.

Normally he would be happy that you were remembering to take breaks to rest and eat, but standing there in the door frame of your living room, he feels like he can’t breathe. There you are sitting peacefully on the couch with a small glass bowl next to you, phone in one hand, fork in the other. Skewered on the fork is none other than a piece of green mango.

As you bring the fork to your mouth, you realize that your boyfriend is silently standing a few feet away from you.

“Oh my god, babe! Why are you just standing there? You scared me!” you complain.

Shocked by your sudden outburst, Chan’s broken out of his spiraling thoughts and brought back to the present moment.

“Sorry, I was zoning out.” Chan feebly explains as he makes his way to the couch.

“Why’re you home so early? I thought practice wasn’t supposed to end until later?”

“It was supposed to end later, but we hit a wall and nothing was getting done so Hoshi hyung let us leave early.” 

“Ahh, I see. I still have a little work left to do, so I’m gonna go finish that. I should be done soon and we can spend time together after.”

“Okay, I’ll be here. Don’t overwork yourself, it’s not good for you.” Chan says with a small smile on his face as you get up and make your way to your desk.

Once you leave, Chan can’t help but wonder why you didn’t say anything about being pregnant. Were you not planning on telling him yet? He did come home earlier than anticipated today. Maybe you were eating the mango because you thought he wouldn’t be here to see you.

Chan spends the next two hours obsessively googling about how to support your partner through pregnancy. After reading a bunch of different articles, Chan decides that he won’t bring up the pregnancy unless you do. You have the right to tell him whenever you feel comfortable, and he figures that maybe you’re still trying to come to terms with it yourself and he doesn’t want to add more pressure to that. 

A few minutes later, you return to the living room ready to spend time with your boyfriend after a long day.

“Hey babe.” Chan says when he sees you. “Do you need anything?”

“No, I’m fine. I just finished work so now we can make dinner together.”

“You want to make dinner? Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Chan asks, immediately worried that you could be overworking yourself.

“Okay I know I’m not as good at cooking as Mingyu, but my food isn’t that bad!” you whine, softly hitting Chan’s shoulder.

“Babe, that’s not what I meant.” Chan whines. “I just thought you’ve been working a lot lately and you should take a break. I’ll make dinner for us tonight, you should rest.”

“Ooookay.” you say, feeling suspicious as to what Chan’s doing.

“What do you want for dinner? Are you craving anything?” Chan asks.

“Hmm, not really. Why don’t you surprise me?”

“Okay, one surprise coming right up!” Chan exclaims dramatically as he saunters off into the kitchen, enticing a few giggles from you.

You couldn’t help but feel a little weird that Chan was being a bit too nice, but you decide to overlook it and enjoy your time alone on the couch. A little less than an hour later, your boyfriend returns to the living room announcing that dinner is ready.

Before you can get up to go to the kitchen to grab your plate, Chan places a plate of hot food in front of you.

“You made my favorite!” you exclaim as you toss your phone to the side to take the plate from Chan’s hands.

“I tried my best, but I don’t know if it tastes as good as when you make it.” he says sheepishly as he rubs the back of his neck.

“Well, it smells great and even if it does taste bad – which I doubt it does – I’ll still eat it since you made it for me.” you say with a reassuring smile on your face.

Taking a bite of the food in front of you, you can’t help it when your eyes widen at the taste.

“What? Does it not taste good?” Chan asks.

“Babe, it tastes really good. I love it.” you say with a bright smile as you continue eating.

“I’m glad.” Chan says softly. He couldn’t help but feel proud of himself.

The rest of the meal is filled with the two of you laughing at each other’s jokes and talking about your respective days. Before you know it, the plates in front of you are empty.

When you’re about to get up to do the dishes and clean the kitchen, Chan stops you.

“What’re you doing?” Chan asks you.

“I’m going to wash the dishes and clean the kitchen?” you say, confused as to why he finds this strange.

Normally when one of you cooks, the other person cleans. Since Chan cooked for the both of you today, it seemed obvious to you that you would be on clean up duty today.

“Let me clean, you sit and rest.” Chan says as he tries to take the plate from your hand.

“Rest from what, Chan? I’ve been sitting on this couch for the past 2 hours doing nothing but resting. What’s gotten into you today?” you ask as you firmly hold the plate in your hand, refusing to let him take it from you.

“I just thought you could use the extra rest, given your condition and all.” Chan says.

“‘Given my condition’? What’s that supposed to mean? I’m totally fine.” you say, slightly agitated.

Chan mentally facepalms himself. He told himself that he wouldn’t bring up the pregnancy unless you did and now here he was, bringing up the pregnancy.

“You know what, never mind.” Chan says, trying to brush it off.

You weren’t gonna let him off that easily.

“What do you mean never mind? You just insinuated that there’s something wrong with me and I need to rest, but now when I ask you about it you won’t say anything? What’s up with that?” you ask him.

“Well, I just didn’t want to pressure you into talking about it if you weren’t ready. I didn’t know if you wanted to share it with me or not.” Chan says.

“Pressure me into talking about what? Chan, you’re going to have to explain yourself a little more clearly because I’m completely lost.” you say, becoming less angry and more confused.

“The pregnancy!” Chan exclaims. “I know that you’re pregnant but I didn’t want to bring it up in case you didn’t want to talk about it yet. A bunch of articles online said not to bring it up unless you brought up the topic yourself and I didn’t want to pressure you into telling me you’re pregnant.”

There’s a few beats of silence as you try to process the words that just came out of your boyfriend’s mouth.

“Pregnant? Babe, I’m not pregnant. Who told you I’m pregnant?”

“Wait, you’re not pregnant?” Chan asks. Now it was his turn to be confused.

“No, and if I was pregnant, you would be the first person I would tell. I wouldn’t keep that from you. But why’d you think I’m pregnant?”

“I don’t wanna tell you, you’re gonna laugh at me.” Chan whines, hiding his face in his hands.

“Babe, I promise I won’t laugh at you. Can you please, please, please tell me why you thought I was pregnant? If you don't, I'm just gonna assume that you think I’ve gained weight.”

“No, it’s not that. It’s just,” Chan pauses and takes a deep breath, “you were eating a green mango when I got home earlier and I remember you telling me a few days ago that women crave sour foods when they’re pregnant so I just kinda assumed. Ugh, it sounds so stupid when I say it out loud.”

You can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of your chest. You were trying so hard not to laugh at your boyfriend, but you couldn’t help it. You just found it so funny that he would jump to conclusions like that.

“Hey, you said you wouldn’t laugh at me.” Chan whines as he lifts his face from his hands.

“I’m sorry, I just can’t help it. It’s a little funny, you have to admit.” you say as you lean closer to give him a comforting hug.

“Okay, maybe it is a little funny.” Chan says as he lets out a small giggle.

“See! You can’t blame me!” you say as you burst into another fit of giggles.

Once the two of you have finally calmed down, you’re both reminded of the small mess in front of you and the bigger mess in the kitchen.

“So, since I know you’re not pregnant, do you wanna clean the kitchen for me?” Chan asks.

“What happened to ‘I’ll clean, you should rest on the couch’?” you ask, teasing him.

“Fine, I guess since I offered, I’ll follow through. I am a man of my word.” Chan says, determination heavy in his voice.

“I’m just kidding, of course I’ll clean up.” you say.

“Fine, but at least let me help.” Chan says.

“If you want to help, I’m not gonna stop you.” you say as the two of you make your way into the kitchen.

When you get to the entryway of the kitchen, you can’t help but just stand there with your eyes wide.

“Lee Jung Chan! Look at the mess you made! I can’t believe you! You dirtied every dish in this house!” you exclaim as you scold him.

Chan silently wishes that he didn’t take up the offer to help you clean. The entire time the two of you spent cleaning the kitchen was filled with you nagging him about the mess he made. But he knows he wouldn’t have it any other way.

[thoughtfullyrainynightmare]

Hello hello! If I may, I'd like to request for fuegoleon fic

Where his wife s/o is busy with work or something so she leaves their 2 year old daughter with Fuego and he takes her to his office? Cue the crimson lion kings going crazy over their captains adorable little baby girl and they all sorta get distracted throughout the day taking care of the little bundle. But eventually she gets really fussy and sad and Fue understands it's because she misses her mom and he kisses her forehead and says he misses her too

S/o comes back home to fue and baby waiting for her and it's just a huge fluff fest basically

I love your writing so much❤️❤️❤️❤️

LOTS OF HUGS AND KISSES TO YOU <3

Hello hello!!

AAAAAAA this is so sweeeet!!! I was more than happy to write this one! I hope it makes you smile!!! AND HUGS AND KISSES RIGHT BACK TO YOU <3 and thank you!!! I might or might not be happy sobbing

Pairing: Fuegoleon x f!reader Genre: Nothing but family fluff fluff fluff Fanfic type: Oneshot Length: ~0.9k

Sunlight filtered through the glass of the window and cascaded onto the floor of Fuegoleon’s office. The crimson carpet was practically illuminated by the gentle soft glow, against which the steam rising from Fuegoleon’s tea cup on the table could be seen.

But he wasn’t looking at the carpet, or the steam rising from the tea. He was looking at his daughter playing on the carpet. Her hair, which reminded him of his own, but was much more vibrant, glimmered in the light of the sun. And her eyes, which also reminded him of his own, sparkled full of joy and hope. But she did have a lot of your features. Which was something he’d muse while tapping the tip of his daughter’s nose at times, while telling her that she has a cute nose. Just like her mother.

She was drawing something, while occasionally glancing at, very intently, at her lion plushie.

Another masterpiece in the works, he smiled to himself, radiating nothing but pride and love he held for his daughter.

“Father watch!” She called out while stumbling onto her feet and picking up the paper.

“Hm?” He lifted his head while putting down his pen, as she stumbled over with a wide grin on her face.

“Us!” She said while showing him a picture with 4 blobs. “Mother,” she pointed to a shape on the right, “father” she pointed to a shape on the left, “me” she pointed to a shape in the middle, “Lele” she pointed to a shape below the three other ones, because she had wanted to include her lion plushie.

“Excellent work,” he patted her head. “Father is very proud,” he told her, which made her smile even wider.

There was a knock at the door, and Randal appeared from behind it.

“I’m sorry to disturber Sir, but I … thought the little lady might want something to drink,” he said while crouching down and holding a few juice boxes in hand.

“Thank you,” Fuegoleon nodded as the daughter was already happily making her way through the first juice box.

“Watch!” She showed Randal her drawing.

“Magnificent job my lady,” he smiled while getting up.

“Mhm!” She nodded her head vigorously. “Show mother?” She asked while looking back to Fuegoleon, as Randal lingered in the doorway.

“Mother is busy dear,” he told her with an apologetic shake of his head.

“When?” She asked with a frown.

“In a few hours,” he replied.

But all it did was make her teary eyed.

“But mom now!” She cried as Fue got up from his chair and Randal took a step further into the hallway.

Fuegoleon nodded to Randal who took it as a cue to leave, and closed the door, while Fue picked up his daughter into his arms.

“I understand dear,” he spoke with soft syllables while cradling her in his arms. “I miss her too,” he admitted while placing a kiss onto her forehead. “And she surely misses us too,” he told her.

---

Evening had started to set as you made your way back to your bedroom, or living quarters as it could be better described, since there were multiple rooms adjoined. And though you were tired from the long day, you couldn’t wait to see your husband and daughter again.

A  smile crept onto your lips as you thought about it, about how you’d see them soon again, and that smile only widened as you opened the door, entering the bedroom.

“Mother!” You heard as soon as you opened the door, having barely had time to enter.

“Well hello darling,” you said while pushing the door closed behind you and crouching down with open arms to welcome you daughter, who was already stumbling to you as fast as her little legs could carry.

“Miss you!” She said to you while clinging onto you.

“I missed you too,” you smiled while picking her up.

“Welcome back,” Fue greeted while making his way to you as well.

“Thank you,” you smiled to him. “I hope the knights weren’t too inconvenienced by you having her today.”

“No, not at all,” he shook his head as amusement was painted over his lips. “In fact, she was quite the star of the day,” he said while wrapping his arm around your waist, and pressing a kiss onto your lips.

“Hmm,” you hummed into the kiss, feeling loved and cared for. “That’s good,” you continued while looking adoringly at your husband, and who looked equally, if not more, adoringly to you.

“We missed you,” he still said while glancing to your daughter who was now pressed against your chest in your arms, and clutched to you with closed eyes.

“Looks like she’s tired,” you mused with a hushed voice.

“She had a rough day,” he chuckled under his breath.

“By missing me?” You chuckled back with a glance to him.

“It is far more taxing than you give her credit for,” he mused with a twinkle in the corner of his eye.

“I see,” you giggled. “But she should get her ready for bed,” you told him, to which he agreed. It really had been a long day for all of you. But now you were together, as a family, as it should be.

[leebitkitty]

hi hi!!!! 👋👋👋👋👋

congrats on your 300 followers cutie heheheeeeee 🥳🥳🥳 I'm going to place my req nowaaksnjsns🏃‍♀️

so, soft!dom!lee know x brat!fem!reader😼 here's my idea: minho comes home from practice and finds her doing something that's forbidden. he also desperately needs a shower, so why doesn't he give his little brat a discipline in the bathroom???

alr, here are the prompts!!

23. "bold now, are we?

52. "let's save water by showering together, baby"

49. "what did i say about breaking the rules?"

39. "let's start off with touching here.."

I'm so excited to see what you brilliantly come up with and dw, don't rush or stress, I have lots of patience!!! 😽😽 tyyy

"i know what you were doing~"

pairing: soft!dom!minho x brat!fem!reader

note: eeee hihi!!!!!!!😄😄😄 tysm for requesting and this sounds like a fabulous idea HEHEJEHEHEJHD feel free to send more my friend!!!! i was desperately waiting for your ask

prompts:

🐱 23. "bold now, are we?"

🐱 52. "let's save water by showering together, baby."

🐱 49. "what did i say about breaking the rules?"

🐱 39. "let's start off with touching here.."

warnings: shower sex, oral f and m receiving, fingering, a tiny bit of tit play, orgasm denial, masturbation, use of word brat, cursing, pet name (baby), i think thats it

minors do not interact

minho was still in the dance practice room with his members, sweating his ass off like always. but he wanted to come home to you so bad, so he started packing up his bag and left.

meanwhile, you were in your room, incredibly needy and too hazy to even tell the time. the clock on the wall in your room clearly stated that minho was coming home soon, as he said he would be home a couple hours early because he always ends up missing you too much to actually complete his dance practice time.

you laid down in your bed, your fingers dragging across your skin, soon enough landing on your pussy, in which you still had your panties on. you immediately felt relief, letting a loud, drawn-out groan from your throat. you let yourself get lost in the feeling, rubbing your fingers fast on your clit and softly pinching your soft tits.

"minho.." you meekly whispered, thinking about how you wished he was here right now, touching you and whispering things in your ear only you two would tell eachother.

as if on cue, minho silently entered the house, not wanting to potentially wake you up from the nap you said you would be taking. he started walking upstairs to your shared bedroom.

he looked through the slit of the door, smirk immediately raising. just as you were getting close, minho entered in with a creak of the floor.

you immediately threw your blanket on top of you and sat up, trying to act nonchalant.

"o-oh! hi minho! how was p-practice?" you said, smiling and scratching your neck.

"don't try to change the subject, baby. i know what you were doing~" minho says, walking up to your bed.

"minho! it isn't what you think it is!" you say, leaning back towards the headrest.

you use this moment to really look at your boyfriend. his sweaty, dark red hair that's currently clung to his forehead, the soaked towel around his neck, and the soaked white t-shirt he was wearing. you could clearly see his perfectly defined abs and his beautiful pecs.

minho harshly drove you back to reality, hands snapping to the blanket and tearing it off of you.

"what did i say about breaking the rules?" he said, caressing your face.

you leaned into his caresses, closing your eyes and moving your head around his hand like a cat.

when minho could see he wasnt getting an answer from you, he lightly pinched your neck and repeated his question, drawing a tiny whimper from your mouth.

"what did i say about breaking the rules?" he repeated, lifting up your chin with one finger to look at him.

"t-to not break them or-.. or i'll be punished..." you shuddered.

"see? you do remember! now let's save water by showering together baby, i need to discipline my little brat."

you and minho got up from the bed, heading to the shower. after undressing, you both went in, the warm water making you much more hazy than you already were.

it was then you realized how hard minho really was, tip blazing red, standing proudly. you reached out to touch it, gently groping the tip.

minho couldnt help but force his eyes shut at your actions, but wasnt out of his mind just yet to submit to you.

"bold now, aren't we?" he said, swatting your wrist, stopping you from touching him further.

"brats don't get to touch dick." he said, pointing at you. "be patient."

"now, let's start off by touching here.." he says, dragging his fingers across your tits.

you threw your head back as he painfully treaded his fingers across your skin, touching everywhere but the one place you needed him most.

minho brings you closer to him, so that your back was on his chest. he skimmed his fingers to your folds, touching them and opening them continuously.

"please, minho, more.." you squeal, feeling his fingers so close to your aching and pulsing clit.

"shh.. its alright baby, let's be patient, hmm?" he hushes you, softly rubbing his fingers on your clit.

"you like that, my sweet baby?" he says calmly, kissing your open neck.

you felt pathetic. all you could do was whimper and moan mindlessly, but in all honesty, you really didn't care.

"o-oh fuck!" you yelped, "minho, minho i'm so close p-please let me-" your words were cut off by minho tearing his hand away from your clit.

"w-why'd you do that?!" you whined, legs still shaking.

"aww.. too bad. brats don't get to cum do they? you've been a bad girl today, breaking the rules, hm?" he says.

"i'll give you a deal. make me cum first, and i'll give you the best orgasm of your life. okay?" he says, giving you the sweetest smile.

your heart lept at the thought of feeling him in your hand and in your mouth.

you simply nodded as you turned around and crept down so you were face-to-face with his fully erect cock, red and angry.

you took him in your hand first and simply gave him tiny licks on the tip, his most sensitive spot to get him to cum quick.

minho whimpered at your actions, but suprised you by nearly slamming your head on his dick so that his entire length was in your mouth. he smiled as he threw his head back on the wall, letting out a string of curses.

"that didn't hurt, did it baby?" minho asks, letting the grip of his hand on your head go, allowing you to go at your own pace.

you slid your mouth off his dick, coughing with glossy eyes and wet lips smeared with precum as you let out a tiny little "no", voice hoarse.

"what a pretty sight. my little brat looks so pretty gagging on my dick." he said, pushing his length in your mouth gently, inch by inch.

you started pumping him with your mouth properly, hands stroking what you couldn't take and bobbing your head and looking up at him through your lashes.

his moans were on time with your mouth, eyes forced shut voice getting higher and sweeter, signaling he was close.

"fuck, i'm about to cum, take my load in your mouth like a good girl." he said, gripping your hair and thrusting in your mouth.

you moaned onto his length, the vibrations sending him into ecstasy.

he nearly rolled his eyes back at the feeling, ears a heavy blushing pink, so sensitive to the touch.

"fuck, ah, ah, ah!" he moaned, cumming in your mouth.

"such a good girl, you made me cum!" he says, pecking your lips with every word.

he pushed your body gently so your back was on the wall, him crouching down to in between your legs.

"now, time for your reward, hmm?" he smiles, mouth already on your puffy and sensitive clit.

you already felt like cumming as soon as he even licked you, but you tried to hold it in.

minho could tell you were already so close, so he inserted both his digits in you, smirking up at you.

"oh my god, minho, p-please let me cum! i'm so close please, please, please-" you rambled, hand on the wall as your legs continued shaking.

you gripped his hair as you came, eyes welling up and face red. he took his mouth off you and kissed you, moaning at the taste of your own pussy.

"such a good girl, cumming all over my mouth like that." minho says, already turning off the shower and turning on the bath.

"lets relax for a while. i'll bath you like the good girl you are."

© leebitkitty, 2023

[nerdthatsiriuslylovesteaxx]

Helpless part 15, every single warning should be listed on this one

Warning/taking abt sh

Warning/taking about rape

Warning/underage drinking/smoking

Warning/talks about suicide

I think that's all but I'm not sure

Annaneth was standing behind the door, "Oh, hey. What are you doing here?"

"I was bored and also Kayla's looking for you."

"Why?"

"She forced Will to take the day off but he said you still have half a day in the infirmary so she's plotting to kidnap you."

"Course she is, um...Annabeth."

"Yeah?"

"Do you...know how to do eyeliner?" Nico asked fiddling with his fingers.

"Yup."

"Can you teach me?"

"Sure, let me guess Piper gave it to you?"

"How did you...?"

"I have my ways." Annabeth grinned before walking inside, "Why does it smell like smoke in here?" Nico ignored the question and handed her the eyeliner, "The first one easy enough, just getting the second one to match is annoying."

"Alright." Nico half whispered before being half pushed on the bed. Annabeth knelt down in front of him and started drawing a line.

"Nico stop moving so much, I'm on the verge of messing up."

"Shit sorry."

"I mean you'll be the victim."

"I guess so." The son of Hades laughed,

"I'll show you how to do it yourself in the mirror, anything else you want me to show you?"

"Honestly half the things in the box I have no clue how to use."

"Lucky for you I have nothing to do today."

"Thanks Annabeth." The two got up, walking towards the mirror but Annabeth tripped over something. "Are you alright?!" he asked kneeling down beside her,

"Yeah I'm fine, just what's this?" She asked not waiting for a response before lifting up the floorboard, the box had been left open and unlocked. "Nico what's this about?" The daughter of Athena sifted though the box seeing everything Nico had desperately tried to hide, oh shit, he thought to himself. "Nico why do you have alcohol and cigarettes hidden under your floorboards?" Tears fell from his eyes, his breathing was short.

"Please don't tell anyone." He curled up. Annabeth grabbed his shaking hand,

"I won't." She pulled him forward into a hug, stroking his hair.

"It... helps- me cope." Annabeth tightened the hug letting the small boy cry into her shoulder.

"It's not healthy but I won't judge, it's better than what I did. But how much?"

"Not that often, I'm... better than I was a couple years ago."

"When did this...?"

"I was maybe twelve, it was the only thing that made me feel okay. Then... something happened and... well I-I wasn't so keen on not being drunk or high while I was alone." She ran her fingers through his hair.

"Do you want to tell me or not?"

"What did you do to cope?" Nico asked desperately trying to change the topic, she rolled up her sleeve.

"After Percy went missing and when we all thought he died, I... almost jumped once."

"Do you want to tell me?"

"He'd been missing for so long, practically no hope in finding him. I was depressed and half dead, thought I would finish it off."

"What made you stop?"

"Someone else was there, for the same reason I was. We talked each other out of it, I'm so happy we could save each other."

"Who?"

"I'll let them tell you that story if they want to."

"It was around a year ago, after the battle of Manhattan. Got drunk and high, I was walking around trying to not feel anything. I could barely walk, got stabbed with a needle, woke up an hour later. Well I think you can put two and two together. Anyways can you please teach me to do makeup now? It scares me."

"Ghost king scared of doing makeup, sure let's go. But I'll be making sure you're okay and not getting addicted."

***

________

This and the last chapter we're meant to be one lmao

[starlitangels]

Art Gallery

A little Jealous!Honey ficlet for your Jealous!Honey ficlet needs. 848 words

—

“Well this is... fun,” I said.

“Isn’t it? I love art galleries!” Guy replied brightly, squeezing my hand and dragging me over to another framed painting. He studied the painting intently before reading the plaque next to it. I looked around. Most of the paintings were abstract. To me, they were just splotches of random color. I liked paintings, but abstract had always been odd to me.

But Guy was having a good time, so I’d stand at his side and listen to him ramble. It was his turn to pick date night—and next week he would sit through whatever thing he couldn’t care less about for my sake. We both tried to choose activities that we both would enjoy, but Guy had really wanted to go to an art gallery I didn’t care much about and had agreed he’d do whatever I wanted to do next week.

Which meant next week we’d be going Frisbee golfing on the university campus.

I let Guy drag me from frame to frame, letting him monologue about the deeper meanings to be gleaned from each of the paintings while I nodded along.

After over an hour, I needed a break. “I’m gonna run to the bathroom. I’ll be back in a minute. Don’t wander too far or I won’t be able to find you.”

“Whatever you say, honey,” Guy teased.

I kissed the side of his head before letting go of his hand and wandering off to try and find the bathroom, peering at every facility sign I could see.

Eventually I found it. But it was unnecessarily far away.

—

Guy hummed, bouncing on the balls of his feet, while he read a plaque.

“Hi there!” a voice said.

He jolted and whirled.

A girl was standing there, smiling, her hands behind her back while she leaned forward a little. She had on a bright, floral dress and ballet flats.

“Uh... hi,” Guy said.

“I’m Josie!”

“My name’s Guy.”

She stuck out a hand. Guy shook it.

The girl twisted back and forth where she stood. She was probably around his age, maybe a few years younger. “My parents painted most of these,” she said. “They do it together.”

“Oh. That’s so cool. Do you paint too?”

“A little. Nowhere near as good as they do. I’m more of a musician.” She pointed to the one next to the one he’d been reading. “That’s supposed to be me when I was a baby.”

Guy sidestepped over to it and studied it before skimming the plaque. Her name was on it. Our baby girl, Josie. The abstract work had some skin tones, but was mostly a bean-like shape of purples and pinks. If he squinted he could almost see the baby face sticking out of a blanket bundle.

“That’s fun,” Guy said.

“Do... do you like art?” Josie asked.

“As an observer, yeah. I can’t draw or paint to save my life,” he replied. “I just love to admire other people’s skill. And learn everything I can about whatever I can. I’m a writer. I like knowing things. You said you’re a musician?”

“Yeah. Strings, mostly. Violin, viola, cello, guitar, that kind of stuff. But also piano.”

“Oh cool! When did you start?”

“I started piano when I was six.”

“Me too! I didn’t last long, though. I couldn’t sit still to practice.”

Josie laughed.

Guy felt something heavy land on his shoulders and yank him.

—

I planted a firm kiss in Guy’s hair, trying my best not to glower too harshly at the pipsqueak in the dress. “What’d I miss?” I asked lowly.

“Hi honey! This is Josie. Her parents painted most of these!” Guy said.

“Cool,” I deadpanned.

“Josie, this is my partner.”

Josie looked up at me and smiled, but I saw intimidation in her expression. “H-hi,” she greeted.

“Hi.”

She looked back down at Guy. “I’ll let you get back to your... perusal. If you have any questions, feel free to come find me!”

“Thanks Josie!” Guy said brightly. The pixie girl wandered off.

I scoffed once she was out of earshot. “Thank God that’s over with,” I said. “I was getting sick of the flirting.”

“I wasn’t flirting!” Guy protested defensivey. “Honey, I would never—” He started with that voice that said he was gearing up for a monologue.

“I know you weren’t. She was,” I interrupted.

“I mean, I can’t say I blame her. Fine specimen that I am. But I only have eyes for—”

I cut him off by leaning and nibbling softly at his earlobe. “What do you say we go home and I can remind you who you belong to all over our apartment?” I whispered.

His whole body shuddered. “Okay,” he said. “I mean, you know me. I’m never one to pass up any opportunity like that when you make it that open-ended.”

I smirked. “Right answer. Maybe I’ll let you remind me who I belong to too. If you’re good.”

He purred. “Ooh. Say less, honey. Let’s get home!” He grabbed my hand and dragged me out the door.

—

Tag list: @darlin-collins

[modern-day-bard]

Worth The Feeling

Content Warning: 18+ This series contains explicit smut, intimidation, and an age gap relationship. Minors, do not interact.

Chapter 31

I mute the phone quickly, without thinking. There is sun outside my window now, though it looks low in the sky. As the confusion of sleep quiets down, I check my phone again. It's eight o'clock. I slept for practically twelve hours. This situation must be doing a bigger number on my body than I realize.

I blink again, opening up my phone. One text from my mom, wishing me a good morning and that she'd gone off to work. And one missed call. From Javi.

I smack myself in the forehead. It wasn't my alarm, it was a phone call! Made less than a minute ago.

I straighten up, taking a sip of water as I call him back. Hopefully the sleep wearing off will help to dull my nerves. Regardless, my heart is still hammering against my chest.

"Hello," I hear his smooth voice across the line, and after a butterfly escapes my chest, my heart slows to a small thump.

"Hi," I breathe.

"I got your message," I can hear him smiling on the other end. "I miss you too."

Now I'm grinning ear to ear, alone in my old room like an idiot. "You do?"

"Yeah...I was sad I missed your call though. I was on a flight, actually."

My smile drops. "Oh, um, where?" In the split second before he answers, my mind pushes the worst to me: he'll be on location for the next few months and I won't be able to reach him, or he is also escaping the media but doesn't want me to be a part of it.

"Yeah, something really important came up." A beat passes, and he doesn't elaborate.

I sucked in a breath. "Is everything okay?"

"Well, I had to go to see this production assistant of mine. She left during an important time. Understandable of course, but I have some questions I need to ask her."

Pounding. My heart is now pounding. He can't mean...

"Javi...are you in Connecticut?"

"See for yourself."

My brow scrunches together. I glance to the window on my right, facing the street. I can't imagine that he would be out there right now. The blinds are drawn, and I can't picture it. His beautiful aura lighting up my hometown street? I had to do as I was told.

I leap up, stumbling a little before drawing the shade, squinting as my eyes adjust to the sunshine. Even as they do, there is no mistaking the figure that is standing on the curb of my parents' front lawn. I giggle like a madwoman, and the fact that he is standing on the other end of the house, patiently waiting for those curtains to be pulled back makes me laugh harder.

"On your left, Romeo." I say through my hysterics.

His head whips to the side, making eye contact with me through the windowpane. His mouth splits into a jaw-dropping grin that makes my cheeks heat immediately.

"When you have a moment," He says cheekily, "I have some things I would like to discuss with you."

"I'll be right down," I hang up, barely resisting the urge to snap a picture of him as he is now. Brown eyes sparkling, so eager that he can't decide whether or not to keep his hands in his pockets. I peel myself away from the window, charging down the stairs two at a time as if it's Christmas morning. On the last step, it occurs to me that I should have at least brushed my teeth or combed my hair, but I don't care. He's seen me in a worse state than this, right?

As soon as I open the door, I run to him.

I don't bother inviting him in, or waiting to see how he'll react, I just fall into his arms. It is instinctual. He wraps his arms around me immediately, kissing the top of my head at least three times. I squeeze my arms around his waist tighter, taking a deep breath of my favorite scent. I nuzzle my cheek against his chest, trying to absorb as much of him as possible. I know I still have my fears, hell, I'll probably always have them. But he's here. And both Lana and my mom have been telling me that he cares, and most importantly, he's told me how much he cares. If he's here, he must not want out of this situation. He must want me, and I'm tired of not grabbing hold of that opportunity. Because lord knows I want him too.

After several minutes, I pull my head back to look at him properly, even though I don't dare let go of his waist. And his arms don't budge around me. He looks back at me before glancing away quickly, and I realize, as my heart strings are pulled ridiculously tight, that his eyes are misty. I move my hands to rest on either side of his face, gently nudging him to look at me again.

When he does, it doesn't take long for a tear to fall and for me to quickly swipe it away with my thumb.

"Javi..." I'm breathless from the sight of him, and at a loss for words from this emotion. I feel like I should say more, but I don't get the chance before he kisses me. Deeply. Passionately. Pulling me impossibly close to him, letting a contented sigh out against me. I step up on my tippy toes, wrapping my arms around his neck to hold him as tightly as possible.

He kisses me until I'm delirious, and when we finally pull away from each other I can't remember what I should say. So instead of saying something I should say, as he leans his forehead against mine, I say, "How did you find my house? You stalker."

Javi lets out a hearty laugh that makes my heart sing. "Lana. That call sheet has come in handy a tremendous amount of times."

I laugh, too, before my face grows serious again. "I'm sorry, Javi. I didn't mean to run off, but I kept thinking of what they would say about you if I came to your house. I was so overwhelmed by them showing up to my house I just thought...I don't know."

He's shaking his head. "When I knew you were getting on a plane to avoid them, I knew it was bad."

I smile a little. "I don't want you to think I don't care. I panicked."

"You've never been in a situation like this before, Ava. You should do whatever helps you."

"It's also a perk that I can hold you out here without anyone caring. This town is a lot sleepier than L.A."

He kisses my forehead, "That is a perk." We stay there for another moment before he asks, "You talked to Dwayne?"

I nod. "Dwayne and a lawyer, Devon."

"A lawyer, huh?"

"Yes. They were asking if I was going to press charges against Blake. I'm assuming you know he's the one who leaked them now."

His body tenses. "I know. Jonah and I were talking and he's agreed to help with anything you need. If you want to action, he's found some evidence against Blake already from another project–"

I lightly press my fingers over his lips. "I don't want to talk about Blake." I say quietly.

He nods, kissing my fingers.

"I appreciate you talking to Jonah though. But I wanted to ask, when I talked to Dwayne he said that Tom gave you additional steps...what was he talking about?"

Javi hesitates, pulling back sightly to run a hand through his curls.

"Tom and the PR team want me to cut ties with you altogether. To make a statement that we aren't involved with each other."

My heart drops down to my stomach, and I feel like I'm in free fall, mere seconds from the concrete.

"Oh...What did you say?"

Javi smiles faintly. "I told them I would make a statement."

I nod, confused by his expression. Part of me wants to cry, but he wouldn't come all this way for that, surely. Would he? Maybe he wants to keep this a secret. I hadn't considered that yet, at least not out loud. Not to him. My gaze falls to my bare feet on the stone path to the front door.

"Will you go to the premiere with me, Ava?"

My eyes snap up to his, my heart hammering in my chest. "What?"

He shrugs. "They said they wanted a statement. I'd like to make one with you."

"I-I..." I have no choice but to let tears fall freely now, "I don't have a dress." Not the first thing I should have said at this moment. But he laughs softly, taking one of my hands in both of his.

"We can figure that out."

"Won't you get in trouble?" I croak.

Javi's smile is reassuring as he's the one wiping my tears now. "No. Jonah and I have gone over my contract top to bottom, numerous times. It may be Tom's preference that I go with Emma, but it's not required. Dwayne says your job is safe, right?"

I nod.

"Good. As it should be," he plays with my fingers, avoiding my gaze, "I know that public opinion is serious, and it's a lot, it's overwhelming, and if you don't want to take this on I won't hold it against you. But if you'll have me, I think we can do this... None of that noise matters when I'm with you."

"Was your goal today just to make me cry?" I ask, sniffling.

He chuckles, continuing to wipe my tears away. "I'm serious, Ava. I won't hold it against you if you want to keep things private."

He waits, letting me consider it, and I do. But really, there isn't any part of me that feels as though I won't be saying yes. So I just take a moment to think of how I want to phrase it.

"I don't know how to do it – be in the public eye," I start, gaining back my composure so he can truly let my words soak in. "But I don't want to hide with you. I want to go out to dinner with you, go to the movies with you, go home with you. Dwayne has been really understanding, and as for the public," I pull him impossibly closer to me, "I think they're just jealous."

He laughs, and relief coats his eyes and his smile. He gives me a swift peck before whispering against my lips, "I really did miss you."

After another moment, he whispers again, "So, just to clarify, you would like to go to the premiere with me?"

I giggle, "Of course I would." I pull back, giving him a mischievous smile, "Under one condition."

"Anything," he breathes.

"You'll have to meet my parents first, before you decide if you still like me."

Javi lets out a hearty chuckle. "As if it would be possible not to."

Next Chapter

Series Masterlist

Previous Chapter

[factorialsotherfandoms]

xcom tallulah? what horrors has my girl been through?

(also her hybrid traits if you have ideas for them, because ooo glowy chayanne i want to draw more eggs)

@becauseplot I am very amused the both of you are asking the same. And absolutely no you are not being too much it's just getting to dinner time here (please feel free to keep sending me eggs or even characters I love this)

Also by living target practice I mean living target practice.

And yes, glowy Chayanne!!! Tallulah's I'm still working out :/ She does however have little non-functional allay wings, however. And bits of her skin have dark purpley-blue, insect-shell like "armour". It is tougher than natural skin, but not by a lot, and it doesn't heal quite the same - there's a piece on her shoulder which clearly has crack-shatter from being shot with a bullet, looking a bit like if you shoot glass. Also very bright yellow eyes. it's not all her skin with the insectoid plating - not even most of it - but she has it. Whereas for Chayanne just all his skin is purple and his hair white (though he absolutely is with A1 on team steal hair dye. Unfortunately the ship has a lot of pink and not much yellow or black. Makes sad faces at his godfather until Tubbo makes him some, once he learns that's a thing he can do)

Right now Tallulah... Hopefully shorter than Chayanne, but we'll see...

TW once again for child abuse, injured child, child sickness, and child murder! Also Tilín and Flippa are here a bit.

Tallulah is one of the younger eggs. She's from the same batch as Pomme, but problems with her... let's call it incubation mean that while she was supposed to be finished before Pomme, she was actually released after.

Which. Was only the start of the problems. Having clearly had problems developing, she was immediately subjected to a great many tests. Her hearing problems were therefore detected within hours of her 'birth', and should have been sufficient to have her immediately glooped down back into raw parts - just like what happens to kidnapped humans. When they tried to drag her to the reprocessor, however, it became apparent that she had full communication telepathy with one of the other eggs - narrowed down over the next few days to Chayanne. As she realised what was happening she screamed along the psionic bonds between the eggs, and it was very obvious to the psionically sensitive aliens handling her that she also got a reply. This... made her much more useful. If at creation she had full telepathy with one egg, then maybe she could be trained for more. She was for one of the lower Elders, anyway, if she could get short-range telepathy then what need had she of ears?

Training was hard. Psionic training involves heavy mental discipline and is incredibly physically taxing. Lots of meditation and fasting, but for periods longer than a child should be meditating messing her up somewhat - especially with punishments for not sitting still or asking for food. She developed some abilities, but not the ones they wanted from her.

It also made her asthma, missed during the initial checks, suddenly much more obvious with the increase in physical stuff. This was... more of a problem. Already imperfect with her hearing, the asthma was a step too far.

But she was also older, now, more expensive to melt down and, well, the Hunter got through his targets quickly. And once he'd killed an egg, he'd give them the corpse and then they could melt them down anyway! The Hunter, one of the Elder's darling Chosen Children, would be happier, and they'd get the corpse to melt down soon enough. This way, everyone is happy! Except Tallulah and all the eggs connected to her, but they aren't real people to the Feds so who cares.

So Tallulah is given to him.

Now. There are 10 eggs which are considered full successes - Dapper, Ramón, Leo, A1, and 6 who are not canon eggs and are dead-because-of-possession. Trump could also be considered successful, but because his Elder died before he was old enough to be possessed, he's treated as a corpse. For every successful egg, there are 10-20 failures. A lot of these are noticed as defective early, and turned back into gloop. Some are cut open and used to determine what went wrong - especially when a whole batch fails, or most of one. The majority, though... The majority are given to the Hunter.

See, the Hunter isn't like the Warlock or the Assassin. He isn't training Eggs, he's using them to train himself. He does not consider non-living targets suitable practice, as even a good robot just does not react like a person.

See, the Hunter is, well, a hunter. He releases the eggs are released into a carefully managed environment, and every so often he goes and hunts them down. Stalks them, snipes them, scares them and makes them run to practice hitting moving targets from absurd ranges. Snipes them in their sleep, and so forth. Some sneaky eggs survive a little while, but he finds them eventually.

So, Tallulah is thrown into the next delivery for him. There's a couple of other eggs there. None of them last very long.

When they are released, Tallulah has the sense to run. She immediately hides herself, and waits to find out what is going on.

She discovers pretty quickly when she sees some of her nearby siblings die.

Her asthma does not let her run much, but she is very good at hiding - much better than most. There's bugs in the environment - a little bit of forest blocked off on all sides by thick glass - which she learns to eat. There's a stream for water, though going to it is dangerous - the Hunter when he hunts knows to find them there, and he does not give warnings when he is about.

Somehow, she lasts a week.

And then two weeks.

And then she finds more eggs. These two have been there longer than her, carved out hidey holes well hidden all over the map. They are the best of friends, and each other's only friends - Tilín, and Juanaflippa. Those two had been sent together, and managed to evade him for months. Flippa wants to steal his gun and shoot him back; Tilín would rather use it to shoot the glass and escape. While nervous around a new egg they take a liking to Tallulah, and the three team up.

It's hard - it's so hard - now Tallulah is watching not only for herself, but for all three of them. Chayanne does his best to help, but he isn't there, and he only knows what Tallulah tells him and very strong emotions - he talks her through panic attacks, encourages her to keep running, lets her know if the Hunter is visiting the Assassin and so she and hers have a little bit safe.

Flippa is their ringleader, the loudest and brashest of the three. Tilín is a little snarky, but extremely anxious. Tallulah... she isn't sure where she fits in. But she is there.

Food is both harder and easier with three - the other two have worked out which berries are edible, and Tallulah knows all about the bugs. Flippa won't eat bugs, says they are her friends, but the three manage. They just about manage.

Starved of psionic energy none of them grow, and all of them are sick, but they survive.

They nearly don't.

One night, Flippa and Tallulah go down to the river to get water. It's usually safer, usually better to go at night. Sometimes the Hunter goes hunting in the dark, but he tends to stick to the light - night vision is not his problem.

Not that night, though - that night he hunts in the dark.

There's a trap set at the river. Flippa triggers it. With Chayanne talking her through it Tallulah gets Flippa out, but by then the Hunter is coming for them.

Both girls run. They run and keep running, doing their very best to escape. It's not possible, not usually and not with Flippa's injuries from the trap, but they try. They run and they run, and then the Hunter shoots at them. It's dark, and it's late, and their buckets are abandoned and they have no water, but they're small and it's dark and the Hunter is a long way away.

He shoots, and misses, and misses, and misses and-

And Tallulah never knows why she moves like she does, only that she has a terrible fear, and throws herself behind Flippa.

A bullet, aimed right at the shorter Flippa's head, hits Tallulah in the shoulder. She screams as it hits the carapace she has in place of skin there, cracks shattering outwards across the whole of it. It is agony, it is horror, she hears Flippa and Chayanne overlap - Chayanne inside her head and so louder - both screaming. She's grabbed, and pulled and somehow, somehow they get away.

They get back to Tilín, hidden away deep and dark in their current cave. He heard shots and hid himself even more than usual, tucked far away and barely visible.

None of them get much sleep after that. Tilín does his best to patch them back together, digging the bullet out of Tallulah's shoulder - it was a just bullet, thankfully, not weird tech, but it still goes deep enough to damage the muscle beneath. They don't have water, and bandages are only a concept they know about because of Chayanne. Flippa's ankle has giant metal teeth marks in it from the bear trap, the bone beneath broken. It's still easier to treat, however, than shattered carapace. It does clot, but Tallulah does not molt, not like a real bug. Instead it grows more like bone than true insect carapace, alongside her.

It doesn't heal like it, though - just clots, and the waxy layer extends over that clotting. It remains an obvious weak point, but also proof of survival; once with adults who care she makes sure to pad it, protect it from further damage, and then covers the entire area with long sleeves and high necklines.

But that is not yet - not even Chayanne has been rescued at that point. It is another year or so before help comes - Chayanne wanted to ask his parents to go for her sooner, but he didn't know where she was either, and once they did find the Hunter's base... he knew it was already top priority, they just couldn't do it.

And he apologised to Tallulah every night for failing to ask, promising that she's strong, and she'll be okay.

By that point the bushes have mostly been destroyed, the Hunter back to trying to bait them out. The bugs are also sleeping - Flippa takes the hit hardest, but both Tilín and Tallulah are also sick.

And then, one day, the glass breaks.

Sick and in pain and terrified the trio still sneak out. Tallulah watches their backs while Flippa steals weapons and Tilín pretends to know the way.

Flippa has a gun, and she intends to use it.

From Chayanne they know about how the Chosen respawn, and even how to get into their chambers; the three put their sneaking skills to use, breaking in.

Flippa tries to set up a shot, Tallulah and Tilín pretend they have confidence in her - she's seen the Hunter do this a lot, after all.

And then there are adults, one grabbing Flippa and taking the gun away. The three are terrified, expect trouble, but Tallulah recognises one - Philza - from Chayanne. She calms the others down a bit, already sick herself.

The after she doesn't remember, just waking up in a strange place, with a man playing a guitar at her bedside. He says his name is Wilbur, Philza - his dad - asked him to watch her while he works. Flippa and Tilín are already up, about and causing trouble, and Chayanne has been forced to get some sleep. He tells her she was very sick, but that she's safe and she's okay now.

And Tallulah... She wants to believe him.

She looks at his guitar, and thinks of Chayanne's happiness with his parents, and with bad hands writes if he will be her papa. Wilbur... Hesitates, says he wouldn't be good at this, that he's not reliable and she deserves better than him.

But he's gentle, and he's kind, and Tallulah is starving for something she does not know, but knows he can give her.

Her dejection seems to convince him, but he makes her promise to wait a few days before bonding to him.

She does, and finds she still wants him, and Wilbur relents.

She is haunted, but she is loved, and is that not what matters in the end?

Much later, when they are sure it is safe for one person to have multiple eggs - proven by Cellbit and Memory - she will also take Philza as a parent. But not until after the war, when Wilbur returns to traveling. It's not safe to take her with, but she'll get sick without a parent, and Philza is looking after her anyway, so... It makes sense, in the end.

[notwantedonthemoon]

Noyes family designs: part four

It's the one! The only!

Mr. Ham 'Missed-Potential' Noyes.

I think he’s funny.

Please feel free to ask me about this guy so I can seethe about the character we should have gotten out of him (though I do like him as is; I'm glad we got a Disney princess/manic pixie dream girl/scientist character all bundled up into one. He's also the most autistic-coded character I've read since the days of *checks notes* every single L. M. Montgomery book).

He had an absolutely stellar introduction in my English class. The teacher said that he’s probably ace and I’ll raise one better; he can be ace AND aro.

I need to start writing analyses on these things.

Character design notes:

• In the top right corner I had to draw Mrs Noyes (and a younger version of her) as a point of reference. Although Ham’s personality is a pretty even mix between both his parents, I think he looks a lot like his mom; throughout the story, he kind of acts like a lowercase Mrs Noyes.

• I never pictured him with glasses but a bunch of my classmates did and I slowly absorbed that idea into my brain. I imagine that he doesn’t actually need glasses (which irritates everyone endlessly- “what do you mean you don’t need glasses? You read thirty hours a day”), he just thinks they look neat.

• The braid is inspired by Claudia from the Dragon Prince. They’re very different characters who probably wouldn’t get along in any way but something about these two strikes me as similar.

• One thing that always baffles me about his design is why he just randomly grows his hair out some time in the middle of the book and how that is… never elaborated on. I will never get an in-universe explanation about this very minor detail but it will haunt me forever. (I think it’s so that Emma can practice hairstyles on him).

• I do think that in a movie or TV show having a character grow their hair out is a pretty nifty way to remind the audience about the passage of time- which was actually the inspiration for the scars in his design (along with his general tendency to wander around in woods and stick his nose into anything that interests him). In a TV show adaptation of Not Wanted on the Voyage (god I wish), I want this guy to be the designated calendar character. You can tell which episode you’re on just by looking at a picture of him.

• NO inspiration from the musical designs for Ham OR Lucy. Musical Lucy looks unfortunately like Edward Cullen and although the decision to have Musical Ham channel the energy of a Disney Channel nerd who gets shoved into lockers is one I can respect, it is not one I can agree with. They should have made him channel the energy of, like, Princess Aurora instead.

• If I’m remembering correctly, those two share some resemblances, like a love for nature and a concerning willingness to marry a tall dashing stranger they met in the woods after knowing said tall dashing stranger for, like, two hours…

• There WILL be a return of those ridiculously coloured sleeves for other characters. Lucy has a whole trousseau chest of fancy silks and fabric. There is no way the Lower Deck squad didn’t cut some of them up for clothing repair purposes.

• Those colours are entirely intentional. By the way. If you’re drawing and struggling with picking colours to use for clothing, just search up various pride flags. Works like a charm.

[zoeygraygubler]

Maybe Rain Isn't So Bad

Johnathan Byers Angst/Fluff

Warnings: suggestive content, swearing, angst

A/N: I am sooooo sorry this took so long! I have had no motivation to write at all. Also I've notices the reader stutters a lot but I promise, it's out of fear, not an 'uwu' kind of way lol.

@liamdunarslut I adore you and am soo thankful for your patience. Thank you for this request.

As you pulled in front of the Byers house, turning the keys and harshly pulling them out of the ignition, gathering the many tattered and very aged school books, you almost put them back in to drive away and forget you were even there. You had initially agreed to tutor Will Byers as a favor for Joyce, his mother, because she was pretty good friends with your own mother. Will had missed so much school in the time he was gone and you felt bad. You almost immediately regretted that decision as soon as you pulled in front of the house because somehow you had forgotten about the presence of Johnathan Byers. Even his name made your stomach twist into knots.

Taking a deep breath attempting to calm yourself, you reluctantly trudged your way to the front door before knocking a few times, leaning all of your weight on one of your legs. It had been almost a minute before a very worn out Joyce answered the door. Her hair was messy and she had keys in her hand and a purse on her shoulder.

“Hey Y/N, thanks for coming over. I hope you don’t mind but I was called in to cover a shift last minute so I won’t be here like I hoped. Is that alright?” she asked, brushing some stray hairs out of her eyes with her bony fingers. As much as you wanted to say no, you couldn’t and nodded your head.

“That’s perfectly fine with me. Please, I don’t want to keep you,” you assured, stepping aside to let her through. She thanked you and offered to pay extra for this but you shook your head.

“No, no pay at all. I told you before, this is a favor, it’s the least I can do,” you smiled as she got into her car. After a few tries turning the key in the ignition, it finally started and she was gone. Stepping into the house, your senses were filled with the smell of dull cigarettes and dust. Cautiously, you made your way over to the kitchen table. As you approached, you gently set the books on the table next to some crayons and stray pieces of paper before pulling your arms to hug yourself, unsure what to do now, feeling a bit awkward.

“W-Will?” you called out in hesitation, almost afraid no one was really there with you and it was all a prank everyone was in on except for you. There was silence so after a minute, you called out again a bit louder than before. This time, you could hear a door creak open from down the hall, footsteps padding towards you. A smile grew on your face as you stepped around the corner to reveal a small boy, rubbing his eyes and yawning the slightest bit. 

“Hey Y/N,” he grinned when he saw you. All of the sleepiness that had taken over his body a minute ago disappeared. You were relieved to see the boy, calmness taking over your body, your breath going back to normal pace, though you didn’t notice how it had slowed. 

After about an hour of helping Will through some math problems, he looked as if he was going to pass out from boredom, answering every question with a sigh and disinterest. Smiling to yourself, you closed the book. The sound of the cover hitting the paper made his head peak up, confused eyes looked at you.

“Why don’t we take a break?” you suggested, getting a bit tired of explaining algebra yourself. His lips curled into a small smile as he practically jumped out of his seat. 

“Can I go get some of my drawings to show you? I think you’ll really be impressed.” he grinned as you nodded. He skipped down the hall and you heard his door quickly creak open and shut. Just then, you heard a car pull into the driveway, the car door opening and shutting loudly. Your heart began to pace, knowing who it was. It hadn’t been long enough for Joyce to come back and you had been aware that Johnathan hadn’t been around for the hour you’d been in his home.

You quickly stood, shuffling around papers and moving around pencils to make yourself look busy as the front door opened. You could swear your heart was now beating out of your chest, leaving you vulnerable and alone to face the one person you did not want to see.

“L/N?” a voice from the other side of the room asked. Your eyes shut tightly and you attempted to slow your breathing. Turning around, you let your arms cover yourself as they had before.

“Yep.” you sighed, desperately wishing Will would hurry up with his drawings. The tension in the room, though he had just entered it, was thick. 

“You're here for Will right?” he asked with a slight smirk on his face. You weren’t sure where that came from, it was quite odd with all honesty but you just slowly nodded. He turned around and reached into the kitchen cabinet, grabbing two glasses. You watched as he walked over to the fridge, pulling out a gallon of generic store brand juice and a bottle of beer. He poured the juice into both glasses before putting away the jug. With a sly expression on his face, he picked up the glasses and set them on the table, brushing your arm slightly as you did so. You wanted to move, to get out of his way, but your body went stiff as he came over. 

“Johnathan is that you?” Will called as he came out of his room, a stack full of papers in his arms, pieces flying out onto the ground as he walked. 

“Yeah bud, just got home.” he answered, winking at you before walking back over to the counter, opening the beer with a bottle opener that was attached to his car keys. Will's eyes lit up as he placed the stack of papers on the kitchen table, spreading them out and arranging them on how he wanted to show you. 

The feeling of dread left your body as Will pointed at each paper, the wax from the crayons shone in the light of the kitchen. 

—

Will's head rested on your shoulder while you both sat on the couch, the TV that once played Will's favorite cartoon, now flickered and flashed nothingness and static. He had insisted you watch the new episode that was airing that night and though you may have overstayed your welcome, you couldn’t help but agree with his puppy dog eyes.

You lifted your wrist to your eyes, squinting at the tiny watch your grandmother had given you for your birthday. 7:52-damn, you had to get home soon. Sighing, you slowly stood from the cushion, lowering Will to lay on the couch comfortably. 

The sound of static rang through your ears as you wiped underneath your eyes. Have you fallen asleep? It didn’t feel as if you were totally awake. As you focused on standing without falling, another harsh sound entered your head that twisted your stomach into knots. Rain. Harsh rain that sounded to be pounding against the roof and windows. Other than that, silence.

You slowly walked across the living room, eerie silence caused your heart to race. Once you were almost to the kitchen, the shrilling sound of the house phone ringing filled the room, causing you to jump, you could swear you could have passed out. You quickly made your way to the phone, picking up the phone from the receiver and bringing the plastic up to your ear.

“B-Byers residence,” you hesitated, unsure what exactly to say. 

“Y/N?” You heard the voice say. It was your mother.

“Mom, hey. Yeah it’s me.” You assured me.

“Goodness, you had me worried, you were supposed to be home an hour ago.” She pointed out and you held back a groan.

“Yes mom, I know. I kind of got caught up and didn’t realize the time. I’m coming home right now.” 

“Oh no you’re not. Have you looked outside? They’re advising everyone to stay inside and off the roads. I just got off with Joyce and she said they aren’t even letting her leave. I’m glad I caught you before you left.” She exclaimed and you could’ve cried.

“Are you sure I have to stay here? I can be home in 10 minutes.” You insisted but you could practically hear her shake her head over the phone.

“Absolutely not. You need to stay the night there, I need to ensure that you’re safe. After what happened with Will, I can’t let anything happen to you. You are staying the night. Please don’t fight me on this.” She pleaded and you sighed through your nose.

“Yes mom, I understand. I’ll stay.” You promised. After telling you that she loved and missed you, your mother hung up the call and left you with a piercing dial tone.

Groaning, you decided to search for the restroom, wanting to wash your face and get somewhat ready for bed. Passing by the first door, you cracked it open slightly to see if it was the bathroom. It must have been Joyce’s room.  The next door you passed was already slightly open, you pushed it open a bit more to see a broom closet filled with chemicals and extra necessities. Losing hope quickly, you got to the next door in the seemingly never ending hall. Before you got the chance to knock, you heard something on the other side. You figured it was Johnathans room but realized it could still also be the bathroom. Gulping, you put your ear to the door for any indication of running water. Your face flushed out any color that could’ve been present in your y/s cheeks. You heard gasping and quickened breath on the other side, but you also heard a shower. 

Just as you were about to walk away and pretend you never heard anything, you slipped on a sock that was tragically placed in front of the door. Though it didn’t open, the fall caused loud banging against the door and floor. As you quickly stood, the door flung open, Jonathan standing there with a towel loosely wrapped around his waist and a not so hidden hard-on pressing against it. 

“What the hell just happened?” He questioned as you dusted your hands off.

“Sorry, I just slipped on something.” You frowned. He looked almost pissed until a smirk grew on his lips.

“What uh, what were you doing exactly?” he asked, raising his brows. You swallowed, knowing you had been caught accidentally listening to him jerking off. 

“I-I was just looking for the bathroom. It turns out the storm is so bad I have to stay for the night.” You said wide-eyed.

“What a shame.” He shook his head. “Well are you alright?” he asked you, the question took you by surprise. For as long as you could remember, Jonathan hated you, every bit of you. When you were younger, he’d put gum in your hair, tattle on you to any teacher that you shared, and shattered any self-confidence you had by always commenting on your appearance. Your mom had always told you it’s because he liked you but he hadn’t, Jonathan wasn’t that kind of guy. He didn’t like anyone, he was just a dick because he could be, until Will went missing.

“I’m alright.” 

“Well, hold tight. When I’m done, I’ll get you some of my clothes you can wear to bed.” Nodding, you went back to the kitchen after he shut the door. You were confused, why was he acting different? Sure, you hadn’t exactly talked to him since Will had come back but you hadn’t exactly expected him to be as nice as he was.

It was maybe 10 minutes before he came out of the bathroom wearing that stupid towel. It sparked a feeling inside of you that you hadn’t exactly felt before. A feeling you dismissed for being hungry or tired because you could never feel anything but hate for him.

When he sets the folded pile of clothes in your hands, you hand brushes against his arm for a moment. You immediately looked at him to see if he had noticed but he was already looking at you. It burned where his skin had touched yours, a good burn.

After you put the clothes on, you left the bathroom, about to go to the couch before you heard him call your name across the hall. You don’t know why, because as much as you wanted to ignore him, as much as you wanted to walk away and never see him again, your legs led you into his room where he sat on the bed. He looked remorseful, almost sorry.

“Please…sit.” He said, patting next to him. 

“I don’t understand what’s going on. You hate me.” You finally said. It felt as if you had a weight lifted off your chest, but there was definitely still some on there.

“I know. Trust me, if I could take everything back I would.” He sighed.

“Please don’t say some stupid thing like you did it because you ‘liked me’. Because you definitely did not. Those things you said to me, they haunted me, they still haunt me. It was like a knife running into my flesh and twisting around my insides.” You admitted.

“I-I’m so sorry. There’s no real excuse but please, I never meant any of it.”

“Then why the hell did you say it, did you do any of it?” You questioned, finally getting some sort of answer.

“I know nothing I can or will say will make up for any of it. When I grew up, those things, what I said, it’s…it’s how I saw my dad treat my mom, how he treated women.”

“That doesn’t mean you needed to do it too.” You said.

“I know, and I can’t apologize enough but that is truly why. I know now that's not right, and that’s not how you treat someone you love because you never know if that’s the last time you’ll ever see them.” You knew now he was inexplicably mentioning Will. You weren’t upset, not anymore and you could see there was no longer a reason to hold any grudge, especially since he was apologizing.

“It doesn’t make up for what you said, but I forgive you.” You sighed, finally having that final weight lifted from your chest. Without thinking, you grabbed his face and smashed your lips to his. You could tell it took him by surprise but he groaned into the kiss, opening his mouth and letting in your tongue.

“Maybe I should apologize more often.” He smirked before standing up to close the door. You smiled at him as he walked back over, wiping your spit from his lips.

“Can we call a truce?” You asked and he nodded with a big smile. 

“I still have so much apologizing to do, maybe I can do it in another way…Will is sleeping right?” he asked, looking at the door.

“Oh you definitely can, and yes he is.” You smiled. And he did, he managed to make it up to you all night.

[under-the-weirwood-tree]

I was just thinking about Black Narcissus recently. The Powell and Pressburger film is an absolutely beautiful movie, highly recommended. I wish it was gay. But it sadly isn’t. It is, however, extremely horny. Also, Alicent as a nun? Yes please.

———

Alicent blinks her dry eyes against the frigid cold of the Himalayas, clenching her nails viciously into the palm of her left hand, her right casually gripping the reins of her horse. The figure in front of her could not possibly be her contact. Despite the cropped hair, the person was definitely a woman, her features too beautiful, and the curve of her breast obvious even beneath the men’s clothes in which she is clad.

“I was given to understand by Father Hightower, that my Sisters and I would be met by a Mr. Targaryen,” she says calmly, the thin air making it difficult for her to concentrate, a cracked dryness eager to spread from her lips to her throat.

“That’s me,” the woman says, a tired smirk pulling at her mouth. “It’s what people here call me. And it’s easier to gain respect from outsiders if they think I’m a man.”

Alicent shifts uncomfortably, her tailbone sore from a days worth of riding on treacherous mountain paths. Under her habit, she can feel the good flesh on her cracked skin, her cold nipples chafing against the rough material of her undershift. She’s desperately tired, the Sisters’ eyes burning hot on the back of her cornette, begging to get to their accommodations. Before her, this Mr. Targaryen, contemplates her curiously, head cocked, blue eyes penetrating.

“We are tired from our journey,” Alicent recovers her voice. “Will you please take us to the palace so we might rest and refresh ourselves?”

The woman nods, taking Alicent’s reins proprietarily, shoulder brushing her leg as she falls into step beside the horse. Alicent resists the temptation to flinch at the bump of a warm body next to hers.

After another arduous half hour, an austere and dilapidated structure appears before them. Alicent refuses to let disappointment and panic rise in her throat, instead worrying at the indent in the palm of her hand. Father Hightower entrusted her with this task, and she will not fail.

The Sisters slide off their horses and stumble tiredly towards the doors, while Alicent walks alongside the woman. Alicent can practically sense the words the other woman wants to say bubbling up onto her tongue, can feel the casual flick of her eyes as they ascend the steps and walk into the drafty building.

“Mr. Targaryen—”

“Rhaenyra.”

“Pardon?” Alicent turns, breaths short from the walk, cheeks heating as she looks into Rhaenyra’s blue eyes.

“You can call me, Rhaenyra.”

“Indeed.”

There is a moment of stiff awkwardness as they evaluate each other.

“And what should I call you?” Rhaenyra smirks, not attempting to hide her amusement at Alicent’s stiffness. It makes a confusing mixture of emotions flare within her until she settles on anger.

“You may call me Sister Alicent,” she says primly.

“And what the fuck do you think you are doing here, Sister Alicent?”

“I beg your pardon?” Alicent gasps, stunned by her rude language.

“I mean,” Rhaenyra gestures to the cobwebbed walls and drafty hallways in front of them. “This is no place for nuns.”

“We are here, by request, to start a school,” Alicent can feel her cheeks blooming a mortifying red, her heart beating too fast in her chest. She feels terrible. She needs to rest, to lie down.

“You won’t last six months,” Rhaenyra says bluntly, her smile dropping, a different emotion in her expressive eyes. Something not so easily defined.

“We will,” Alicent says sharply. “And longer. And I would suggest, Mr. Targaryen or Miss Targaryen—”

“Rhaenyra,” the woman says stubbornly.

“I suggest that you acclimate yourself to my presence.”

Rhaenyra does not respond, drawing her arms up to cross her chest, pulling the fabric tight. Alicent stands, her fingers numb, allowing the humiliating slide of Rhaenyra’s eyes up and down her body, cataloging the dirty habit, her heaving chest, her fingers curled into a fist. Instead of laughing, she simply nods, stretching her hand out in front of her.

Alicent’s brain stutters, her arm reaching out almost without her consent, gripping the other woman’s hand. She’s warm. How is she so warm? Alicent is looking down at where their hands are joined, her head is spinning. She hasn’t eaten for hours and yet she is nauseous. Should needs to let go. Let go. The other woman hasn’t yet either. A sudden noise from the hallway startles her and she jumps away from Rhaenyra like a startled rabbit. Sister Talya enters the main room, eyes finding Alicent’s, evidently needing her in some way.

“I will see you soon, Sister Alicent,” Rhaenyra says, looking at Alicent one last time before leaving through the stark double doors.

———

[hqmillioncorn]

FFXIVWrite Day five: Barbarous

with @windupnamazu 's Butter

Babycorn looked down at the plate of cookies Butter was holding in front of her. Of course she still had her suspicions but a cookie was a cookie. She took one bite of one of the sugar cookies and her eyes instantly lit up. "Woah! These are way tastier than tree bark!!" Which was a very strange thing to say all things considered. "I know right?!" Butter agreed.

Under the night sky of Ul’dah a small, little lalafell rubbed singed strands of hair between her fingers. Without a word she let them fall down to the ground in a flutter. 

Babycorn moved the hairs around on the ground, trying in vain to see if she could form some sort of recognizable shape with them. Eventually she figured that it was a lost cause and decided that blowing them away would be funner. 

And it was! She and Cherry watched as they flew away in a dash in front of them. Babycorn never knew that hair could move so fast.

“Byebye!” Cherrypit waved to the dirt and hair that had been blown away.

Babycorn remained silent, her hand hovered over the back of her head. With a shaky hand she touched the part of her hair she had carelessly chopped off. There wasn’t really a need to cut it off. Besides the obvious fact that most of it had been almost burnt off by someone. 

The memory of the whole thing was hazy. Even if it had just happened a few hours ago. Babycorn could only remember a bunch of people shaped shapes and a warm feeling behind her. But it wasn’t the good kind of warm, not like how it felt to be hugged by her mama and papa. 

It was scary.

Scary-

“Bebe! Bebe!” 

“Huh?” 

Cherrypit had called out to her. Babycorn had practically trained herself to respond to anything Cherrypit said in record time. It did not take her long to walk over to her brother’s side, besides his designated play area. It was full of chalk drawings and various other smaller toys that he and Babycorn had managed to steal over the years.

She looked down and noticed he had grabbed a piece of chalk and had gotten to work in drawing another one of his scribbles. Most of them didn’t make a lot of sense to Babycorn. Like, what was up with the drawing of this weird pink-haired girl about? But, that didn’t really matter. They were still the prettiest things ever to her. 

As she silently watched Cherrypit draw, a glimmer from the corner of her eye caught her attention.

It was the knife she had used to cut her hair. It was still here. 

Babycorn told Cherry she would “Be right back.” and walked over to pick the knife up from the ground. Knives were used to hurt people, she knew this by now. That meant that the person who had thrown this knife at her wanted to hurt her. 

Thankfully they had just missed but it still scared her. 

She also didn’t remember picking the knife up and taking it with her. But she guessed it was a good thing she did, since it helped with cutting off some of her singed hair. Babycorn turned the knife to the side and caught a peek at her own reflection. “Hello.” she gave herself a little wave. 

Her reflection showed her just how much of her hair she had cut off. One side was different from the other. Babycorn set the knife down and sat down on the ground. She grabbed the side of her hair that had escaped being burnt. 

Her mama always said that her hair was soft, like…like…

…She couldn’t quite remember anymore. 

It was very well known around the mansion by now that it was better off to leave Babycorn alone to her own devices. 

Between biting hands and hissing at others she made it very hard, both physically and emotionally for anyone to get close to her. If there was anyone that could be described as both an immovable wall and an unstoppable object all at the same time, it was Babycorn. That wall and object also had the tendency to scratch and bite.

So Butter had heard. 

But surely someone so nice to their younger sibling couldn’t be all that bad. He had seen it himself. Instances where Babycorn would drop everything she was doing to do something for Cherrypit or listen to him intently as he babbled to her. 

There was even one time after he had let Pancake do his hair that he noticed Babycorn walking down the hall with Cherrypit right behind her. Her own hair was almost a mirror of his, a mess of pigtails and barrettes. The culprit was obvious, it had to be Cherrypit, who was holding a hairbrush in his oversized sleeves.

Babycorn’s whole faced had turned a shade of pink and she turned away as she quickened her pace to anywhere but where Butter was. 

He could still remember the look on her face. Though not for any reason or anything.

That morning Butter had decided he would cook something for her. From his brief conversations with her and all the times Babycorn had been early for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, eating was one of her favorite things to do. It made sense, Pancake always did say the way to a girl’s heart was through her tummy.  

Or it was something like that. Butter guessed she must have heard it from someone else. He wasn’t really thinking about it at the time, he was thinking about how pretty Babycorn’s eyes looked during the sunset the day before. Of course, for completely normal reasons.

As Butter made his way downstairs he noticed that someone had been here just before him. Whoever this certain someone had not bothered to wipe their feet down after coming in from outside, as they tracked mud all over the floor of the basement. “I should clean this place up before I start cooking!” It would be the nice thing to do! Butter didn’t want anyone to slip on any of this mud and it’s not like he minded doing a little bit of cleaning or anything.

That’s what he was here for after all! 

As Butter carefully maneuvered around the mud, he made his way into the kitchen to where he knew the bucket and mop would be. 

Just as he was about to head into the designated break room, someone caught his eye. He wasn’t alone. 

There was no mistaking that yellow bonbon anywhere. 

Babycorn was in the kitchen with him, so it could have been her and Cherry who had tracked the mud in before he got here. ‘I guess that would explain the smaller footprints. And the handprints.’ Butter thought to himself, it was all adding up.

Butter figured he should say hi to her before he started cleaning but as soon as he even thought about doing that-his heart started beating faster and faster. It was clear to even him that he was nervous. His face was warm and he was sure that if Cinnamon was here she would say something like, “Your face looks almost as red as my wings!!” or something like that. 

The sound of metal being moved around caught Butter’s attention. He looked up to see Babycorn rummaging through the kitchen cupboards, like she was looking for something. It was honestly a little hard to tell. It was times like these that Butter wished he was just a little taller. 

“Bebe?” Cherrypit’s voice came in. 

‘There he is!’ His suspicions were right. Cherry was just too short for Butter to see from where he was standing. It made sense, after all, he and Babycorn were rarely ever seen apart. Butter couldn’t really think of any instances where he had seen them apart. It was almost like they were glued to each other’s side. Much like Pancake and him. 

At that moment Butter noticed something in Babycorn’s hands. A large butcher’s knife. 

“Oh wow!” 

Butter’s exclamation caught Babycorn’s attention as she quickly turned around in Butter’s direction, knife held firmly in her hand, she was unsure what to do with it. 

Meanwhile, Butter was all smiles. “Are you going to cook something? I can help if you want to!” He wasn’t entirely sure if he could cook whatever it was Babycorn was planning to make but he could learn on the spot for sure!

“I…” Babycorn wasn’t sure what to do as Butter began walking closer to her. She was still kind of hungry, even after eating breakfast but that wasn’t what she was in the kitchen to do. 

Babycorn looked down at Cherrypit, who was happily waving his sleeves around. “Butts! Butts!” He was really happy to see one of his friends here. He was always happy to see anyone. 

The knife was still in Babycorn's hands, she looked down at the right angle to catch her own reflection looking back at her. Her hair was uneven, looking no different than the hundreds of other times she had looked at it. A pair of ugly green eyes looked back at her. 

It made her mad just looking at it all.

Babycorn snapped her head up at Butter. “Can I help you?!” Her yelling caused Butter to stop mid-step. 

“Um…” Butter tapped the ends of his fingers together, “I was hoping I would be able to help you! With whatever you’re doing!” He smiled at her. His bright smile only helped in fueling the fires of Babycorn’s anger. 

“Well I’m not doing anything! And I don’t need your help with anything either!” Babycorn slammed the butcher's knife back into the drawer that she had taken it from. She had hoped that doing that would be enough to convince Butter to leave her alone but instead he was still standing there, smiling at her.

“If that’s the case…” Butter grabbed an oven mitt from the wall and put them on his hands, even Babycorn could tell they were too big for him. “I was gonna bake some cookies if you wanted to help with that! They’re going to be sugar cookies! They’re me and Pancakes favorites!!” 

“Ugh!” Babycorn rolled her eyes and pushed her way past Butter, she fought back against the urge to apologize for bumping into him. Why should she apologize anyway? He was the one bothering her!

“Sorry about that! I didn’t mean to bump you!” Butter apologized. 

Babycorn paused. “It’s ok.” She answered, turning his back to him she began to walk away from him as quickly as she could. Cherrypit trailed behind her. He gave his friend Butts a quick wave goodbye. “Bye! Bye!”

Just as Babycorn thought she was finally safe she heard Butter call out to her again.

“Your hair looks really nice today by the way!!” 

Babycorn froze in place. And so did Butter. 

Butter sank down closer to the floor of the kitchen clutching his head in embarrassment. “Whyyy did I say that……” He whispered to himself. It had just come out! He meant every word of it but he meant to just think it! Not say it!

Babycorn grabbed the back of her hair. It felt like the sharp parts of straw even after all these years. For a second she felt her heart have a steady beat. Then she bolted out of that kitchen so fast that even Cherrypit had trouble keeping up with her. 

There was only one clear explanation for all of this.

That Butts guy must be crazy. 

[astrabear]

15 questions, 15 tags

tagged by @ongreenergrasses. Not gonna tag 15 people, that's like 30% of all the people I follow.

Are you named after anyone? I have the name that my mother would have had, if my grandmother hadn't changed her mind at the last minute and given her a popular name instead. My mother always resented being one of many [name]s in her classes at school and was determined that if she had a daughter, she'd use this name.

When was the last time you cried? Man, I don't fuckin know. My dad died a year and a half ago, my stepfather died a few months ago, I've been unemployed and looking for work since December (just accepted an offer the other day, so that's cool), I visit my mom regularly and she's having a really hard time, and there was an ice storm a couple of weeks ago that left us without power for 36 hours and brought up a bunch of trauma from a debilitating storm two years ago. Also I have depression and anxiety. I can't be bothered to keep track of when or how often I cry, is what I'm saying. Sometime in the past week, probably.

Do you have kids? nope

Do you use sarcasm a lot? When joking with my roommate, yes. As part of general communication, I use it but I think not a lot?

What's the first thing you notice about people? Doesn't this depend on what's noticeable? Like if someone has blue hair, I'm gonna notice the blue hair first. Anything that stands out or seems unexpected - unusual hair color, tattoos, certain hair styles, size/height/other features that are at either end of the bell curve, dramatic clothes or accessories.

What's your eye color? Dark brown

Scary movies or happy endings? Happy endings, definitely.

Any special talents? I notice and remember stuff about people, and I connect pieces of information. Someone once described it as my superpower. This makes me very good at giving gifts. Sometimes I have to keep it to myself in order to not sound creepy (because people aren't necessarily prepared for you to remember something they said in passing a year ago, and then connect it to something that someone else mentioned last week, and use that to infer something they had not yet told you.) I'm also bizarrely good at finding specific Old Guard fanfics.

Where were you born? Houston, Texas

What are your hobbies? I have had so many hobbies that I no longer currently practice. I want to get back into cooking and baking (as hobbies rather than just necessity). I write. I play the Sims. For a while I was using the Sims to make fanvids, but that's fallen away as the writing has picked up. I'd like to start drawing again. It's going to take some time to get back in shape enough to do it, but I'd love to one day take up weightlifting again.

Do you have any pets? I have two cats, Truffle and Tristan. They will be turning 4 in a couple of months. I adopted them in 2019 and I can't imagine getting through lockdown without them. I made up these song lyrics about them, back when "Bad Guy" was still a thing: So he's a buff guy Not got lots of fluff guy Likes to play real rough guy Tail always so puffed guy She's that smart type Take my things apart type Face a work of art type Got a loving heart type They are good cats Duh

What sports do you play/have you played? None. The only physical endeavor that I've ever been serious about was weightlifting, but never competitively.

How tall are you? 5'3, 160cm. I'm basically a hobbit.

Favorite subject in school? In high school, English. In college, probably history.

Dream job? Alas, there is no job out there that would include doing complex work in spreadsheets and databases, and coaching/mentoring other people, and doing some kind of problem solving/information and referral work that gives people immediate assistance. When I did social service type jobs, I felt like I wasn't getting enough mental stimulation, and now that I'm working more analytical jobs I miss the satisfaction of helping people. Oh well.

Like I said, I'm not going to tag 15 people. But I will tag @lazaefair, because you're my most recent follow so I know you the least well.

For cat pics, see below

Truffle, my perfect angel baby:

And Tristan, my little goblin boy:

[dogsongy]

Good Boy~ (19)

Masterlist- Series masterlist - Previous - Next

Chapter 19

Summary: Miyeon opens a dog cafe with her 5 dogs and two handsome young men happen to come in on opening day.

Pairing: Yunho x reader (named Miyeon) x Mingi

Genre: fluff for the most part (with a little bit of angst)

A quiet groan left Miyeon’s lips as the professor went over the syllabus of the class. Her brown haired friend turned to her while flipping his pen a couple of times. “This class is going to bore me to death, Yeosang.” She whispered towards him. In response he shrugged. “I dunno, it seems like it's going to be an easy A for me.” He leans back and smirks. “Maybe not too much for you.” Miyeon lightly elbows his side. “Yeah right I have trouble getting you to make a social media presence for us at the cafe.” 

“Well you said I can’t shitpost so it's hard to think of something.” 

“Saying that we will draw doge on peoples lattes is not a good business move”

“Whatever”

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

That Friday Miyeon had her laptop set up by the cash register around 1:30 pm. The lunch rush was not as bad as it usually is, maybe because everyone was working hard towards the weekend. She had an online English class around this time and the 4 other employees seemed to be busy with other engagements such as clubs, sports and other classes. A familiar orange haired boy also introduced himself to be in her class so she was glad to see at least one familiar face. The cafe itself is mostly empty with a couple of customers drinking coffee and working on various projects on their devices. The dogs were littered around the cafe as well except Yuo who was lying in one of the dog beds behind the counter and near Miyeon. 

Luckily the rest of the day was also pretty quiet. Customers came in to order coffees and sat quietly using the cafe as a peaceful workplace where they could even pet a dog if they got too stressed. Three pm came around surprisingly fast and Miyeon closed the shop by herself after her class ended around 2:30. She then continued with her day by showering and leashing her dogs up for a nice walk. Things were going pretty smoothly as she made sure her dogs were well trained and in life when it came to walk etiquette. Eventually they circle back to head back towards the cafe. 

“Hey! funny seeing you here.” A voice calls out to Miyeon. She turns around to look at the voice and is greeted by none other than Yunho. 

“Yunho!” She grins at the tall man jogging over to approach her. He bends down towards all the excited dogs. Even Yuo seemed a little comfortable with his presence. “What are you doing around here?” Once the dogs calm down he stands up straight. 

“I was just taking a walk around the park when I noticed you walking the puppies so I had to at least say hi.” He lets out a small chuckle as they begin to walk and talk due to the restless dogs. “Ah well I'm a little hard to miss but I'm glad to see you.”

“Likewise!”

After a slight pause in the conversation Yunho takes a deep breath. “Hey, I have a question for you.” His whole bright demeanor seemed to change to a more shy tone.

“Sure, ask away.” She glanced up at his nervous figure. He was playing with his fingers one second then fixed his hair with them the next. 

“I was wondering if maybe you wanted to see that new spiderman movie sometime…. I mean it's ok if you don't want to-”

“That sounds like fun! When were you thinking?”

“How about tonight at 7:30? I checked the show and they're practically every hour.” The redhead smiles softly at her feeling slightly relieved.

“Yea I could do that!”

“Awesome I'll pick you up from the cafe if that's no problem for you.”

“Yeah that'll be great I’ll see you then Yunho!” Miyeon’s cheeks flushed as she waved to the guy that just asked her on a date.

[polinlover]

Not My Brother

Chapter 4

By: storyhadmelike

Penelope found herself trying to catch her breath rethinking about the conversation she and Colin had earlier that night. Why couldn’t he just leave her alone? She found a frog settling in her throat. Her eyes started to water.

She almost let slip that she loved him. Almost told him everything. She couldn’t resist his eyes pulling her in. His hair softly tossed. His getup made him look like a tanned well-traveled man. His scruffy face. She wanted to sink into him. At the same time, she wanted to slap him.

He kept doing this. Overtaking her mind. When she left the party she hadn’t even stopped in the ballroom. She stole away out the maid's entrance and ran all the way home. How silly was that?

“I am over you Colin Bridgerton,” she murmured and then remembered her words earlier. She had said that to him. If he didn’t know she loved him before he definitely knew now.

It didn’t matter. They would still never marry. They would never suit because he wouldn’t help her keep her lifestyle as Lady Whistledown a secret. She was sure of it. He was a blabbermouth and couldn’t hold in a secret if his life depended on it. Or could he? Was she just making things up now? She let a soft scream into her bedroom pillow.

The truth is she could never marry him. Because she loved him. And he would never love her back. Her heart would break and she’d be dead.

“Miss?” A maid knocked on her door.

Penelope looked up with tears in her eyes. She had immediately undressed and put on a night dress when she got home. She also took out her hair so now her curls were down to her mid-back. Her eyes were puffy and wet. She wasn’t thinking one hundred percent straight. “Yes, Sarah?” She asked, sitting up straight and wiping her eyes.

“I know this is highly unusual but you have a visitor,” she said awkwardly giving her a worried look.

“Mama is still at the ball and won’t be home for hours. Who could it be? I am not dressed for company.”

“It’s a boy,” she told her with interest. Dark hair and is quite handsome actually."

Her heart sank. Colin was here. He was here to talk. She closed her eyes. She looked in the mirror. Wow, she actually looked desirable in her silk green nightgown. It was the first one she picked out alone. She knew it was scandalous getting a low-cut, thin night dress but who was going to see it?

It would be entirely inappropriate to go down like this. Tease him and show him what he was missing. He wanted to pull her into rooms alone and hold her hand and stand two inches away from her and act like she was his anyways. She half smiled.

“I’ll be down in a bit. You can be relieved for the night,” Penelope told her keeping her voice straight and even-toned.

“I don’t think I can leave you alone with him. Propriety and all?” Sarah swallowed looking at her curiously.

But Penelope knew her way around Sarah. They had become close since her mother hired her a few months back. “Let’s just keep this our secret. Please?”

Sarah sighed. “But your mama..”

“Won’t be home until the wee hours of the morning. I’ll be just a few minutes with the man downstairs.”

Sarah was aware that Penelope had a secret life doing something. She was not sure of what it was. But she thought it fun to sneak and giggle with her. “Okay Miss,” she smiled. “I’ll put him in the drawing room and head to bed. Should I bring a tea tray first?”

Penelope knew Colin would be starving. “No. And thank you,” she smiled sweetly.

Sarah scurried off.

Penelope would leave him waiting for a bit. She sat in front of the mirror pulling a light green practically see-through robe on over her night dress. She dabbed her eyes and took a deep breath.

This was once-in-a-lifetime revenge. Then she would never see him again. She would be sure of it. She’d make it happen.

After a bit, she slowly made her way downstairs. The doors to the drawing room were open and she saw a dark figure standing in the room. Her skin prickled. This was her. She was confident and over him.

“Mr. Bridgerton,” she sang sweetly entering the room in a low voice. “Oh!” She jumped back startled by the man.

Read full story here.

[vahalia-cress-ffxiv]

The road to hell is paved with good intentions

Well, that was a fucking trip. 

Ricard sighed, running a hand through his hair as he adjusted the bag slung haphazardly over his shoulder, pushing the door to the Ashen Wolves estate closed with his hip. He was greeted by silence, as he often was. It wasn’t unusual for him to arrive at odd hours, only one or two staff members present who would offer the slightest nod of the head as he passed by acknowledging his presence as he headed towards his private chambers…and that was fine with him. At the moment the thoughts in his head were loud enough. Questions, timelines, bits, and pieces that didn’t quite add up, but seemed to add up just enough to make a picture that was tolerable…for some. 

Not for him. 

He wanted crystal fucking clear.

This was clear as mud.

He exhaled sharply, beginning to move past the stairs and starting to reach for the door leading towards the private chambers when he managed to pull himself out of his thoughts long enough to notice that someone, someone rather large, was missing. Slowly he turned, eyebrow quirked as he now cautiously glanced around the room before settling on the staff member near the door. 

“...Where’s Bruce?”

“Sleeping. Gone home for the evening; whichever.” a voice came from the end of the stairs just above the area in which Ricard stood. It was as if though he walked right by her and didn’t even notice, she had practically been a shadow on the wall, hand dropping from the banister as she took two steps towards him, small dagger in hand she continued to draw under her nails. It was something to pass the time, it seemed.

“Busy, busy little bee. I haven’t seen you in a few days.”

“Work never stops. You were also off on an adventure of your own when I left, if I recall correctly, Vahalia.” 

He tilted his head, eyeing the knife carefully. “Here to welcome me back?”

Vahalia gave a small, short shake of her head and silence followed as she now looked to carefully guiding the tip of the blade under her lacquered thumb nail, “I was in Thavnair for a spell. But no, I’m not quite here to welcome you back. Perhaps under different circumstances – sure.”

His eyes followed the tip of the blade for a moment before he trailed his tongue across one of his canines and he took a small step forward, “Well then, since it’s not different circumstances, I can’t help but wonder what are you here for Vahalia? It’s quite late, well past your normal working hours.” He shifted the bag off of his shoulder to let it hang by his side as he lifted his gaze to meet hers, quietly waiting her response. 

“More secrets I see. I was hoping perhaps you would have spit it out already where you where, what you were doing and when you were going to tell me that you had met my sister. Not just recently but….oh… I don’t know SEVEREAL YEARS AGO?” her hands dropped to her sides and her voice rang out clearly, loudly even and she tilted her head up to look at Ricard.

“I knew you were someone who kept work close to your chest but I didn’t figure you for a liar.”

“I didn’t lie to you, Vahalia. I didn’t know who she was at the time.” He set his bag down, facing her fully. “I was charged with meeting with the daughter of a business man. I wasn’t told who she was, I wasn’t told what the family did, I wasn’t told anything except that I was to get her talking and take her to a specific area. I did. I was green - new to the profession and didn’t have the first fucking clue what I was doing outside of what I was told to do. We were assaulted. I kept a notebook at the time that I was to turn into Bernard at the end of assignments. That notebook, along with his notes were recently returned to me - the name Cress was in his notes. That was the first hint I had of just who I was walking with that night. I put the details together in the last few weeks. Did I suspect that she was alive - yes. Did I know she was alive - no. Was I going to tell you vague suspicions and get your hopes up if I was wrong? No, not until I had proof. Would you had rather that I’d gone to you with the the first minor details?”

He took another half step towards her. “The fact that you currently know…I take it she’s contacted you then - good.”

“Omittace of the truth is the same thing as telling a lie, Blythe. I hate liars! It doesn’t matter if you knew back then or not before meeting me entirely what matters is I told you not to go digging and you did it against my wishes anyways. What matters is that you’ve known about this for long enough to get us to this point not and not a single word was said to me.” her chest heaved down with a heavy sigh she expelled trying to keep her composure.

“I let you in. I let you in and you went behind my back!” she couldn’t entirely contain her rage but the fact she wasn’t slashing wildly or hurling bolts all over the open room was a small wonder. Perhaps something Ricard was clinging to, hoping that it wouldn’t happen. Vahalia flexed her fingers, “I would have rathered you had of expressed those things to me when you thought them, especially since for some reason me recalling my story about her death and disappearance, somehow you, for whatever reason deemed it to be faulty enough to suspect she was alive, to begin with.”

She finally looked up to him, eyes fierce; wild with the sting of unfamiliar honey but they were hers. It was not the touch of void that bled through her anger at this moment. She looked...in control, “I cannot….accurately put into words the wound you have placed here on me.” she couldn’t help it and her hand slapped to her chest to claw at fabric and flesh to just indicate something inside of her was hurting from the betrayal. Something she couldn’t see or touch, maybe it was the taint within her that had been swirling into a mass of pain she could not dampen.

He knew the possible consequences of following the trail. He’d weighed them carefully - and with a steady exhale, he accepted her rage. 

“I did. I followed that damn trail not because I didn’t believe your story because your story is the one I’d heard and the one that made sense to me. I followed that trail because something in that fucking book didn’t make sense to me and because the woman I cared for deserved to have answers and deserved to have her sister back if she was alive out there. Be mad at me, Vahalia. Hate me, if that’s what you want to do. But sometimes we have to clean out a fucking wound for it to HEAL.”

He didn’t flinch away from her gaze, his blue eyes locked on hers. 

“At that time she was very dead to me, Blythe. You were reopening old wounds. That conversation we had in the bar when I asked you not to poke around, to leave it alone – something good came of all of this, sure. Valeria has been found. But what if she hadn’t? What if she was as we all were led to believe? It still remains that you went against my wishes. What if she didn’t want to be found? What if she didn’t know who I was? Have you seen Miss Bahjiri? Amnesia is a very real thing and I have noticed her wandering the halls trying to piece her life together as those around her wishing and hoping they get a lucky break for her memory to return when there is a very possible chance it might not ever. What if Valeria had a life, children? There is more at stake than just sniffing out information and following leads because your ‘gut tells you something is off’. She’s back, I am blessed but you still deceived me to placate to your own whims!”

Vahalia’s hand splayed out over her ribcage now, a little more relaxed than prior, “I didn’t want you digging because it wasn’t your business to do so. I didn’t want you digging on who did those things to her because I already knew. I already knew it was my father and I had closure with that right before I ran him through. I already knew! I didn’t tell you because it wasn’t your business to know but you just couldn’t help yourself, could you?”

Her eyes narrowed up at him in the semi-lit corner of the room just past the staircase, “You don’t…get to tell me..” her eyes welled as she drew her head to the side, vision blurring and her jaw settled tightly though her attention seemed very fixated on Ricard, “-- You don’t get to tell me how to heal. You don’t get to decide to put salt in it and call it some form of HEALING!” she shouted.

He stilled, his expression unreadable as he watched her. “You think I did this…any of this, to placate my own whims?  If she didn’t want to be found, Vahalia, she wouldn’t have been. If she’d had a life, children, it would’ve been a very different conversation - she wanted to be found. Everything I did, everything I have done I did not to placate my whims, not because my gut said something was off, or because I thought it might be fun or a challenge or because I thought it might piss you off. Everything I have done I did for you.”

“How do you not….”He stopped himself, quickly licking his lips as he gathered his thoughts and faced her once more. 

“Didn’t want to be found? She was gone for four years, Ricard! Four years! Don’t sit here and play the role of some unsung hero! Your fucking family had their hand in this as much as my own. Imagine for a second if she had of been one of the people on your lists. Oh yes, your fucking do-good lists. You cannot convince me that ANY of this was done for my sake or benefit. I never asked you to look into her accident. I never asked you to go digging because I strictly asked you to do the opposite and leave it be!”

She stepped in and prodded his chest roughly with her index finger, each word landing with her prods, “So don’t you dare say it was for my benefit. YOU did this. YOU made a choice. YOU DID THIS!”

“Yes! You’re right! I did this - I went out and found YOUR FUCKING SISTER! Who you thought was dead! For fuck’s sake woman is it SO fucking difficult to believe that someone in this world wants you to be fucking happy!?” He took a step forward with each one of her prods to his chest, backing her towards the door.

Instantly her shoulders dropped at his words and how he happened to holler back at her. It wasn’t that she had been upset at him yelling, she was made of stronger stuff, but finally, the admittance of where he went wrong but in some ways was right too. Though she knew better than to fall into accepting his words as anything but him once more placating. She smiled, expressing herself in one way she only could with a soft huff of a laugh spilling from her mien, “Heh…” she blinked and her tears finally fell helplessly since she could no longer control them, “Whatever gave you the impression that I wasn’t happy? I was never unhappy. You assumed far too much with things that were not yours to assume. You overstepped.” It might have been quite easy to see that emotions won out int he end and containing such was far too taxing to fight against.

Wounded she was not, but very much an animal she was and while she had been backed into a proverbial corner, the back of her head rounded along with the door behind her, hand lifting, and the point of the blade in hand pricked the front of Richard's lower abdominal region, “Do not mistake me, Blythe. I hold no punches in seeing you scarred, you misstep and take too much liberty. Consider yourself better off than Bernard. Perhaps a small courtesy for finding Valeria and bringing her home. Well…even that is too much credit since that task rests with Captain Thorne. You people…” she began and she simply shook her head, the laugh returning as she barely noticed the tears on her face were cold, drying, and barren of any follow-up, “-- You and he are not so different from one another. Poor little lost boys with no one who cares for them. At least with the Captain, he plays into the selfish role rather than then hide it. Word to the wise? The next time someone tells you to sit down and say nothing, you should just sit the fuck down and shut up. Being in the wrong people’s business will wind up with you dead.”

“We all wind up dead eventually, Vahalia. Whether that’s from someone we care for or a passing stranger, the end result is still the same.” He felt the the point of the blade - it was impossible not to, but didn’t respond to it, at least not visibly. “Oh, comparing me now to the one who ran are we? A low blow, and an unnecessary one. Let him hide behind his commentary and quips. I know the rules of the game. I knew the consequences when I started this path - and you still don’t understand.”

“That's the thing. He doesn’t hide behind his uncouth mannerisms or who he is. He doesn’t try to hide how selfish and misplaced he is, he doesn’t play himself off as trying to be altruistic. Deep down you are as sullied, selfish and broken as the rest of us and you have a heavy lean on self-interest. If it were otherwise, we wouldn’t be here now, now would we? You knew of the consequences but did it anyway. See, you are well aware. Knew of the consequences but still did it when I told you to leave things be. Self-serving. At least admit that much and save yourself from the task of you even trying to convince yourself that you’re not lying to yourself.”

Still keenly aware of the blade pressed against his midsection he reached up, brushing the pads of his thumbs against her cheeks softly still meeting her gaze.

She didn’t move and merely relaxed even at the slightest touch. A familiar one at that, different in the sense that it wasn’t made with sexual intentions to later be played upon. This was raw, real, unspoken with no malice behind it. How fast he went from fixating on anger with her to the softest of motions. Pools of honey flickered and she met his blue eyes.

“We’re all broken - I’m no different. Yes, I’ve had people killed in favor of my own self-interests, and did I think that I stood to benefit from seeing Valeria back to you, yes - there will always be that thought. But I also knew there would be consequences, knew there was a risk that you could walk away and that could be the end of everything…” He paused, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “It’s a risk I was willing to take, take that for what you will. Am I still a selfish bastard, of course, I always will be. But perhaps, for a rare moment, there’s something more to it than that.”

Eerie was the motion in which her eyes blinked. She felt the warm sensation of Ricard’s lips on her forehead and for a brief moment, there was a calmness in her an inward battle between emotional exhaustion and a firey rage. He spoke true kind words but that didn’t stop her from going that final ilm and burying the blade into his lower abdomen near his navel. There was a stillness in her, some parts relieved and happy to know that a scar would be left on him at some point, and some parts wanting to inflict pain to express how she felt that her trust had been taken for granted. That her jaded tendencies and anger had won out in the end despite her lack of wanting.

The firm grip on the dagger within her grasp never ceased as she lifts her jaw to swoop along the side of his face, lips finding the shell of his ear. He should have known better than to get too close – she was an animal after all with savage-like instincts, “Never take until I am willing to give.” something she had recited to him before. A warning she gave once when he thought it wise to take from her a kiss. The blade remained plunged into his flesh and pulled skin and fabric with it as Vahalia finally withdrew it from his person, “I am not in a giving mood.” she finalized coldly and she looked away she couldn’t even look at him more than she had already, head still to the door and arms at her sides as the dripping of the vital from the blade in hand spattered the marble floor below them.

It was as if he knew the outcome and still made every attempt to get there faster; regardless. Had he learned nothing from his time with the woman? He had to of known the limits she would fearlessly reach when pushed.

His breath caught as he felt the tip of the dagger that had been pressed against his midsection thrust forward, his eyes widening as he saw her moving and heard her speaking, but none of it made sense.

Ricard felt something….warm and wet….pouring from the front of his abdomen as he dropped to his knees, trying to focus on anything, but struggling as the pounding in his ears grew louder, the darkness at the edges of his vision closing in, while he pressed a hand to the open wound - doing what he could to try and slow the bleeding. 

White were her knuckles as Vahalia gripped ever so tightly to the weapon within her hand. One she regularly kept on her person and not something she considered herself using beyond its intended use. She didn’t seem to move save for her attention being drawn to Ricard as he fell to his knees before her, bleeding past his fingers that tried heavily to cease the bleeding he was now enduring. He then collapsed back, noticing the pooling blood around him, his vision growing hazy as he tried to focus up towards her - tried to reach towards her, and struggling to do any more than that. Vahalia didn’t seem to register or care for the hand reaching for her and she could hear her breathing and the rapid thrum of her heart wildly in her chest though unbeknown to her if it was the adrenaline of regret or some flared interest in seeing the man suffer.

The only thing he would see before falling prey to the darkness was Vahalia’s body finally moving to walk away. The fading sound of heels along the marble floor before darkness had claimed Ricard entirely.

Collab with: @ricard-blythe-ffxiv

Mention(s): @valeria-cress - @shadows-of-fate