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hiraya-rawr · 2 years

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Secret Valentines (SAGAU Diluc)

about: Imposter AU where Diluc hides the divine creator and oh, it's Valentines! GN!Reader note: this is NOT gold blood AU. This is starry AU where the reader, as the divine creator, has star qualities up close (deep red blood with starry glimmers, stars in eyes, stars in tears, bc yknow the stars of teyvat always has a place for u and etc) also this ended up being longer than expected and it may not be valentines-centric but yeah anyway can be considered platonic-ish or romantic

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"I'm sorry you have to hide here on such a day, your holiness," Diluc says, walking down the steps to the basement. He's carrying a cloth-covered basket in one hand and a lamp on the other. You assume it's filled with pastries and sweets judging by the smell.

"It's alright! Even your basement feels comfortable. As expected of the Dawn Winery." You put aside the book you were holding to face him. It's been a month since the rather large storage room was converted into your living quarters and even more months since your isekai into the world of Genshin.

Those cold months where you ran like prey from its predators, where you shouldered the abuse and insults hurled your way. It was confusing to be accused as an imposter of the divine god, it was even more confusing to see your beloved characters hunt you for it.

"Make the imposter suffer," was the divine order of the divine god, "Then bring them to me on their knees. Alive. I shall deal the final blow." Though their god is cruel, who were they to oppose? Besides, how merciful of the supreme ruler to kill them themselves!

Those months, you ran through and from all the nations until you found yourself back to the very beginning — Mondstadt. It was a coincidence, really, all you did was follow the crystalflies to the faint scent of grapes. Food. Unknowingly, they lead you straight into the path of a wine tycoon who happened to have just ended his late-night shift in the bar.

Diluc Ragnvindr was too busy a man to care about "hunting" down the imposter, but when he sees you pop up from the bushes — crystalflies adorning you — he might as well capture you for the divine creator. Less suffering for you and less stress for everyone. A win-win situation!

After all, the knights of Favonius were always so inefficient when it comes to these things.

So he ran after you as you stumbled and desperately picked yourself up. It was pathetic, really, you were exhausted and malnourished: Diluc didn't even need to try when he reached you, shoving you to the ground face-first by the neck.

"D-diluc!"

"I must say, you've got some guts to impersonate the divine ruler," he had one knee on your back and a hand on your neck, keeping you from moving.

"I didn't! I've been saying this all this time but I didn't impersonate them! I really didn't!"

"Regardless of whether you intended to or not, their holiness has declared a divine order. You know what that is, don't you?" You only sobbed in reply, he felt you trembling and he loosened his hold on your neck.

"You're quite unfortunate to have a similar appearance but I'll have to bring you to their holiness." He says, standing up and brushing off imaginary dirt from his clothes.

"I swear... I only wanted to meet everyone in Genshin." was the quiet mumble he hears from you. He doesn't quite understand what you mean as he pulls you up by the arm, taking a closer look at your face.

You really do look like the divine god. Since the day he caught sight of you from afar, running out of Mondstadt, he thought about how ethereal you looked. An appearance — no matter the imperfections — worthy of a divine being; but you were an imposter and the god despised anyone that could come close to resemble them.

You make eye contact for the first time. Your teary eyes meet his ruby red ones and his breath hitches. Little stars glimmering behind your irises — they sneak their way to your tears and dribble down your face like shooting stars, glowing softly just like the crystalflies. Tears that hold galaxies.

He almost assumes that it's a trick of the light, but the night sky is cloudy and the crystalflies have left in fear. It's just you with the stars in your eyes as he brushes away your tears with a finger.

Ancient texts which the current divine creator had debunked, saying that "Such scriptures are metaphors with complicated truths. Galaxies are reflected in me and there's no need to see the stars in my eyes to know that. I am your god."

Except, now that he sees you, he understands they were lied to.

Diluc is frozen, processing just how on earth did it take this long for him — for any of them — to realize the truth.

"I've committed an unforgivable sin, your holiness," suddenly he's on one knee, bowing his head in shame and you freeze in place as well. He won't kill you now, right? Months of speculating had you recognize the possibility of being the true god yet you found it difficult to acknowledge.

"Diluc..." With a shaky hand placed hesitantly on his shoulder, you kneel in front of him, "I... just want to rest now, please."

He leads you to the winery after that incident. His large coat covers any of your prominent features and his arms shakily guide you to the best guest room. Diluc was quick to communicate with his servants, ensuring that all of their lips were tightly sealed and that they recognize you as the divine one.

Although despite their loyalty for their master, they were somewhat hesitant at first even after seeing the stars in your eyes, their doubts were quickly solved when — after nicking yourself with a serving knife by accident — they saw the same stars in your deep, red blood.

Diluc spent the month gathering allies amongst prominent figures. It wouldn't be easy to convince whole nations and their archons that the "imposter "was actually the true divine one, especially when the fake seated on the throne ruled with tyranny and fear. It would be devastating if any of the acolytes discover your location and kill you on sight.

No, Diluc had to go through this step by step to avoid risks. He had meetings with Jean and Kaeya, putting aside his hatred of the knights. He slowly proposed legislations to ease the convictions against the imposter without catching the wrath of the fake. He communicated with his network in other nations, pulling his influence before he was finally comfortable enough to reveal to Venti the truth.

On your third week in hiding, Jean, Kaeya, and Venti visited. Diluc kept a close watch and they, although they had their reservations about the situation, had promised to at least be patient and allow themselves to be convinced.

The day they went down the basement, your secured hiding spot and a rather comfortable bedroom, Jean immediately kneels on the spot. Kaeya follows right after her.

"Please forgive us, your holiness. We have made a grave mistake." Jean says clearly, lowering her head. You encourage them that it's alright now and that it would've been difficult for their nations had they gone against the "divine orders". Venti takes a while to warm up to you until he notices the obvious proof, then he's bowing alongside them.

"I'm surprised that you'd believe me so easily," Diluc turns to the three, "I was expecting a full inspection of their holiness."

"My cautious and meticulous superior wouldn't simply go against divine orders without reason." Jean smiles, crossing her arms.

"Even I had my reservations about the one on the throne," Kaeya piqued, "Besides, I'm well aware of your righteousness."

Before Diluc could react, pull everyone close into an awkward group hug, gushing about brotherly love and junior-senior trust. The group flushes in your hold as Venti laughs, "It seems that their holiness knows quite a lot about our stories!"

"Heheheh just enough," you say, smiling at the bard.

With Barbatos and the knights on board, most of Mondstadt is convinced that the "imposter" is the true creator. This leads us back to our current situation.

Diluc places the basket of goods on a table, pulling out a bottle of wine and cutlery. You walk over to him to ask what he's doing.

"It's February 14, Valentines, your holiness. Considering that it's a holiday, I figured you'd like something a bit more special than your usual meals."

"Ah! Eclairs and chocolates!" You say with enthusiasm, taking a seat and admiring the lavish spread on the table. He really outdid himself this time: not that your other meals were considered subpar, everything he provided you were delicious!

You notice three candles in the center of the table. Diluc smiles and with a flick of his finger, a little firebird swoops down to light them before dispersing in the air. Impressive power control, you think.

"Would you like to eat with me?" You ask, pointing at the extra plate on the table, "There's more than enough food."

"How could I dare..." His words trail off, looking at your hopeful expression.

"You wouldn't want to leave me alone on Valentine's now, would you?" A slight pout made its way to your lips and he almost chuckles if it weren't for the growing blush on his face. To dine with the highest being of Teyvat on Valentine's day? Absurd. He would have laughed it off as a dream had this been two months ago.

He takes the seat across from you, muttering a "Then please allow me," as he cuts your steak with expert precision. As the night goes on, you find yourself conversing about all the random things in your life and his.

It's almost insane how he didn't recognize your divinity when it's so obvious to him now. Your caring and sincere words and warm presence were a stark contrast to the cold and demanding tone of their current ruler.

For you to genuinely seek his company was a surprise. The fake had only ever sought him out for wine and his wealth, being the wallet representative of his nation in order to save Mondstadt from any cruel punishments.

"We contacted Zhongli, as you suggested," Diluc starts, "You were right. He's the supposed deceased Rex Lapis. He said he had his suspicions and he already informed me that he communicated with the Qixing. Lady Ningguang should be announcing his return as an archon tomorrow."

"That's great! Everything's going smoothly so far, all thanks to you," You smile at him, sipping a bit of wine, "It wouldn't take long before I can leave the basement now."

Tomorrow. Diluc thinks. Tomorrow Rex Lapis and Barbatos will take the first step of rebellion against the false god.

Tomorrow, all the other archons would have received the proof, a little vial of your blood, and they'll realize their mistake.

Tomorrow, you'll have the world rushing to you, asking for forgiveness, showering you with praise and offerings. The false god overthrown and most likely killed.

Tomorrow, you'll leave the basement and Mondstadt will be ready to welcome you with open arms. A week-long festival in the making and you'll love it so much, it'll make up for all the time you've spent cooped up in the basement.

But for tonight, Diluc looks at you as you twirl a finger at the little fire birds he's making. Allow me to be selfish and keep you by my side a little longer. Before the storm of acolytes comes, I'll cherish this moment of being the only one with your attention.

"Your holiness, please try this soufflé. It's one of the winery's specialty." Diluc scoops some onto a spoon, gesturing for you to take a bite.

He thinks you'll forget him, but really, you've always favored Diluc even before transmigrating after all. He shouldn't find it so surprising how you consistently sought his company, even when you were surrounded by new prominent figures.

Next year, he'll find you standing outside the winery, cloak covering your features and hands gripping on a cloth covered basket with goods from all over Teyvat.

Next year, you'll ask to be let in as he stutters and wonders why on earth are you out at night in a disguise. He'll scold you lightly on how unsafe that is, flickering a small fire bird from his fingers to light the fireplace.

Next year, you'll sit by the fireplace, asking if he would like to spend the remainder of Valentines with you as if there isn't a line of acolytes wishing to take his place as your date.

"I've been craving the soufflé since last year, actually," You smile cheekily and he sighs before smiling back. What a troublesome god.

Sure the acolytes must be panicking over your disappearance and a few people would definitely hate Diluc for taking your night, but for now — just for now — allow him to be your secret Valentines all over again.

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note: idk if anyones noticed but much of my sagau works are centered on a soft!reader, leaning to the weak side :) as much as I want to take a realistic, defensive, and angry reader for imposter AUs, I somehow cant write angry!readers that well especially towards my favorites hnng unless stated otherwise. if this isn't your preference then my works may not be for you (but pls feel free to explore anyway!)

#genshin #genshin fluff #genshin imagines #genshin impact #genshin fanfic #genshin hcs #diluc #genshin angst #zhongli #genshin diluc #sagau #genshin sagau #cult au #genshin cult #imposter au #genshin imposter #diluc x reader #kaeya

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binniesthighs · 3 years

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what you heard | reader x changjin

a/n: hi. its missing changjin hours also now I am addicted to poly r/ship fics so here is what my brain came up with hehe (pic creds to OPs!)

what you heard | reader x changjin

Pairing: self insert, hwang hyunjin x gender neutral reader x seo changbin

Genre: smut w/ fluffy tones

Tags: poly r/ship, comfort fic, outdoors sex, friends to lovers, discovery of feelings, idiots in love, with a lil bit of comedy, college au, teehee switch!changbin, switch!hyunjin, switch!reader, they’re all kinda fighting for dominance muhaha (its those bestie vibes ahaha), bratty behavior on all sides, jinnie kinda flips a switch when he gets in the mood (hehe pun intended), spitroasing (r), unprotected sex (stay safe!), sex under the stars hehe, penetration and fingering (r), oral (r & m), face fucking, cumshot, cum eating, that good, good makin’ out, soft and intimate body touching hell yeah, fluffy ending

Word count: 6.8k

Recommended listening: what you heard by Sonder

If there was something that you and your two bestfriends were the best at, it was getting your heart broken.

Hopeless romantics you all were, in one way or another. In fact, it would take even more than your set of three hands to count the number of times that the three of you had come over with a broken heart, seeking ice cream, hugs, or plates to break.

Changbin was the kind to fall in love slowly, but when he did, it consumed him, and everything that he was. He would become convinced that there was no one better for him in the whole world. He would spend sleepless night writing songs and poetry about those who would occupy his mind. Changbin would write love letter after love letter to never send them, or to have them crinkled into papery balls, and slam-dunked into his waste bin. He would often joke that he was ready to love someone, but he just didn’t quite know how to. Under it all, you and Hyunjin knew that he must’ve been scared if they didn’t love him back.

Hyunjin fell in love with people at the drop of a hat. It was his “fatal flaw” as he liked to to joke about too. The gorgeous blond man would fall in love over hearts scribbled on coffee cups, smiles in passing, and compliments on days when he had caught the bus late. This man was the kind to sing love songs loudly in the shower no matter who heard him, and would often have a new crush by the week. Unlike Changbin, he had no fear when it came to confessing, but had even worse luck getting someone to take his words seriously. Hyunjin had too much love to give, and never received enough back.

You, on the other hand, delayed love for as long as you could, no matter how much that you would dream of it. Love came to you in the forms of movies and books, fictional characters and song lyrics. You wrote about the love you had to give in countless journals and on the back of sticky-notes that had been used on the front-side. Love was more of an abstract concept to you. It was never something that you could touch but rather dream about. However, while this wasn’t the worst way to view it all, you still thirsted for something more. A hand to hold, a warm body to tangle up in the sheets with you.

On this day in particular, you and your friends had gathered for a meeting: your “Unofficial Lonely Hearts Club” as you called it. You couldn’t recall who had called the meeting after the long week that you had, but it was likely what each of you had needed.

These nights would often start the same: the three of you shoved into Changbin’s pickup, windows down, night air in your lungs, some song on the stereo that Changbin had been into these days. The three of you lived in the typical college city nestled into the side of some mountainside--a stark contrast to where you had come from before. It was the kind of place where people went to forget about who they were before to become new people. For some reason, some crazy fraction of the people who moved there, never left.

First chance you got, you would move the hell out of there: a place full of so much heartbreak and disappointment…who could dare to stay?

Hyunjin stuck his hand out the window, making little waves with his palm in the wind. You wondered what he had been thinking of that night; if he was sad or if he was happy. After knowing him for nearly four years now, you knew there was nothing in the world that he deserved more than to feel all the warmth that he had conveyed to others. It was a crime that he never got it back.

Changbin’s free arm held to the handle above the car door frame, and he flexed and relaxed his muscles as he hung his fingers there. You too wondered what thoughts floated on his mind: if he was making up lyrics or if he was putting together some grad story or gesture only for it to never see the light of day. He too deserved all the love the world could offer.

Changbin’s car sped up the dirt road to the lookout spot where kids would go to get drunk, high, or possibly both. It was a dreary and empty Wednesday evening, and secretly you hoped that no other rambunctious students would be there to shatter bottles on the craggy rocks. His headlights lit the path ahead, and the car bounced on the rough road with dusty orange rocks. The higher you got to the mountainside, the more static-y the stereo would buzz until soon all that was left were broken lyrics.

There was one spot you liked particularly: it was a ledge that would jut out horizontally, giving a clear view to the whole of the land below: you would see the white lights from the nearby hospital, and the stadium lights from that god-awful football stadium that had sucked up your student loans. Further, you could see river on the edge of the city-line, and how it would ripple in dark blue sparkles under the moonlight.

Your two best friends would grab the blankets that were habitually kept in the backseat made of scratchy wool, but this only made them warmer. Changbin also kept a couple camping lamps in his car to light up the dark space of his cargo bed. The weight of your bodies would shake the space and make the car bounce a bit on its wheels when the three of you would cuddle up between eachother to take in the scene.

On nights like tonight, neither of you would say much, but just look out and feel it all. There was a kind of beauty in the simplicity of the way that everything seemed so still up there, or how time had appeared to stop somewhat. If you were lucky, you could hear the hoot of an owl, or some other critter rustling in the bushes.

Hyunjin was always the one to sit in the middle, and he would take turns resting his head upon your shoulder or Changbin’s sighing deeply into how they would rise and fall. You hugged your knees to yourself and wondered how many more times you would come up here with them, or if after graduation, it would happen at all. It was painful to consider, but you even wondered if they would be in your life at all after everything ended.

“I’m sick of being lonely.” Hyunjin said into the cold air. He shifted, looking both you and your other friend in the eyes. “Its depressing and exhausting.”

“What are you talking bout ‘Jin?” Changbin threw his hoodie over his head.

“I mean moping about people who don’t ever feel the same...feeling sad when it doesn’t go my way...I’m sick of it!! I just wanna like, give up!! Would it be so hard for me to just like, stop feeling??”

“Oh Jinnie...don’t be ridiculous. You can’t just stop falling in love with people. It’s impossible. Not just for you but...” You exhaled out, “...for all of us.”

“Yeeeah, I don’t think that you have much control over that.” Changbin agreed.

“No, seriously!! It’s shit!!”

You wrapped your arms around him lovingly, nuzzling into his shoulder to sooth him, “I know, I know.”

“Aren’t you guys sick of it?? The three of us must be cursed or something.”

Changbin laughed out his little trademark chuckle and ruffled up his friends blond locks. “You’re being dramatic again Hyunjin. It’s not that bad.”

“Psh! Says you who hasn’t gone on a date in months!”

“Hey!!”

You flicked both of your friends on the sides of their heads. “Cut it out, will you? We came up here to relax and forget all that stuff, remember?”

Hyunjin gave out a sign in his exasperation, turning to fiddle with his little Bluetooth speaker that had definitely seen better days. The last crickets of the season chirped in the early fall air, and the little device booted up with the tiny ringtone that you knew well.

“Anything we want to listen to in particular?”

“Whatever you feel like Jinnie.”

The little blue-white light of his phone illuminated his face, and Hyunjin picked a song that you had likely heard dozens of times before. It was from that artist that he had adored to bits, but only really listened to when he was feeling down.

“Oh Jinnie.” You hushed, then wrapped your arm around his wide shoulder. “No one deserves you.”

Changbin let his head fall on the other boy’s shoulder too. When the three of you were close like this with your body heat shared between you, it was cozier than anything imaginable. While you and your two friends weren’t the most touchy of people, there were still times when you could huddle up, and it was no secret that it felt safer than anything.

Hyunjin chuckled a bit, causing his shoulders to shake. “You know what they say in those movies about people who can’t find love after long?”

“What’s that?”

“They say, “By the time that we turn thirty, if neither of us have found love, lets just marry eachother.””

Changbin scoffed, “And you’re bringing this up why?”

“Well, I guess it wouldn’t be the most ridiculous idea if the three of us decided to do that, right? Seeing how the current trend is going?”

You exchanged adoring and teasing glances with Changbin over your adorably naïve friend.

“I think you’re missing something out of that equation Jin.”

His doe-eyes widened, “What’s that?”

“In all of those movies, it was usually two people who made that promise.”

“Two people, three people, what does it matter? As of right now, its looking like the only people that we’ve got is eachother.”

Hyunjin stretched out his hands into his sweater paws and made a little squeak when he cracked his back.

“What do you say?”

“Hm.” Changbin cleared his throat, “So you’re being serious?”

“What’s so crazy about it?” Convinced as ever, he counted out the points on his fingers, “We could all live together like we’ve always talked about, we’ll never be lonely and have someone to do things with, we don’t have to be second guessing ever, waiting for someone to call us back...we all already know eachother really well so there will be no surprises...”

“Oh, so you are being serious about it then?” You ruffled his hair up a bit, just to get a rise out of him like it usually would.

“I mean...it’s not like it would be hard...right?”

Changbin sucked at his teeth, “Mm. I guess not.”

“But isn’t a marriage supposed to be like, having kids, being in love, being...partners?” You added.

Hyunjin stammered with frantic hands, “W-well, we don’t have to do everything!! Marriage is so conventional these days, we don’t have to follow all the rules, especially since there will be the three of us anyway.”

Changbin sighed, casting his head up to the ocean-blue sky dotted with silvery constellations and the red blinking lights of airplanes overhead.

“You’re still forgetting something Jinnie.”

The blond tiled his head.

“The part about being in love?”

The tallest boy shied his hair behind his ear, then tucked his chin into one of the blankets.

“I mean...I know that I love you guys. I wouldn’t mind spending the time...”

Your chest buzzed with warmth hearing your friend say it for the first time. It previously had been somewhat of an unspoken phrase between the three of you, but now that he had said it out loud, it felt even more real.

“Awww, I love you too Jinnie.”

Changbin scoffed once more and picked with the fraying ends of the blanket. “I guess I do too.”

The cargo bed grew silent while the three of you chewed on the idea. The longer you thought about it, it started to make sense bit by bit. After all, through all the confusion and the broken hearts, ice cream and broken plates, your little group understood each other better than most. When there were tears to dry, each of you knew exactly what to do. You had loved them all along, you always had.

“I really love you guys...I think.” Hyunjin finally said, and linked his arms with yours and the other man’s.

“What are you doing getting all cheesy for, huh?” Changbin nudged him with a smirk.

“I don’t know, I guess I just never really thought about it like that before.”

“Like what?”

“Out of all the people that I’ve “loved” I don’t think that I’ve ever loved them like I have with you both.”

“What do you mean?” Under the swath of blankets, your knee nudged against his, and he jumped a bit from the feeling.

Both you and Changbin looked at him attentively and how his lip quivered, and soft eyes glistened from the glow of the lanterns.

“M-maybe all along...I’ve been in love with you?”

“Like, in love, in love?”

“I don’t know...maybe?” He rubbed his eyes like he would’ve had they been lured with sleep. “Maybe I’m just, making things up...I don’t know. It’s getting late.” He laughed out with a tentative breath, “I’m saying things that don’t make sense.”

Changbin looked out at the stretch of city lights as if he was contemplating the idea himself.

“I guess that it wouldn’t be impossible.” He said blankly.

“What!?” You tried to look at both of your best friends as seriously as you could. While your heart started racing, it was as if it was against your will.

“It’s kinda funny,” Changbin began, “The three of us always complain about how love never really comes our way when we’ve already got it...right here.”

Logically speaking, it made sense. You and your two best friends really did know eachother better than anyone else ever had. When you had met as scared little 1st years without a clue in the world how to be your own people. You had figured it all out together. The ways that you had showed love to each other had been a bit different--but it was still all the same. If you were to have not met them all those years ago, your life would’ve been drastically different. You couldn’t even picture it.

Perhaps in all of your little rambles in journals and daydreams, was what you were looking for...them?

“Maybe we were just looking in the wrong place?” You offered, and both of them shrugged.

“It’s possible.” Hyunjin pulled both of your arms closer to him, and rubbed his cheek into the top of your head, then Changbin’s dark curls. He giggled out, tackling the two of you to lay flat on the cargo bed. It crinkled with a plastic sounding thud, then he wrapped his legs up in both of yours the best that he could.

Under his arm, you choked a little from his tight grasp, but you eventually let yourself mold into the curves of his body and soak up his warmth. The scratchy wool tickled at your cold fingers, and you soon felt Changbin’s hand come searching for you under the blanket too. It was a bit startling at first, but he reached out to hold your arm, then rubbed small circles into it with his thumb where you rested them on Hyunjin’s chest.

It was as if he was a bit delirious, but Hyunjin chortled with laugher until he had lost his breath, and his lyrical sounding voice bounced off the cavern of the mountain and echoed up into space.

“Why do I...weirdly...kinda...wanna make out with you guys right now?”

Changbin pinched his friend with a teasing grin, “You mean it?”

Hyunjin pouted with his plush pink lips, “I thought we all just agreed that we were in love with eachother??”

“Jinnie...” You settled your head into the crook of his neck, right by his collarbones.

“Damn. Glad I’m not the only one.” Changbin bit a smirk into his lip, then propped himself up on his forearm to gain better ground on you and the other man.

Your fluttering heart beat it’s way up your throat and into your ears, and your two friends looked at you expectantly.

“O-outside? Right now?”

“Yeah, I guess. Why not?” Changbin traced his thumb and index under Hyunjin’s smooth jaw.

“Aha! So you admit that you want to too!!” Hyunjin beamed and tugged at the sleeves of your own hoodie.

“I-I didn’t say that...”

Hyunjin leaned over on his side to face you. “Y/n, how about lets make a deal. We try it out, see how it feels, if it feels weird, we stop and pretend it never happened?”

“I don’t know Jinnie...this seems pretty friendship ending to me.”

“Isn’t that the point?” Changbin said with a sly grin.

The tallest boy pleaded to you with nearly needy eyes. “I think that it would feel nice? Besides...none of us have really...felt that...in a while.”

Changbin’s creeping hands came surveying over Hyunjin’s deep green pullover, and the other boy shivered out a little feeling the touch.

Hyunjin’s own curious hands reached out to hold both sides of your face gingerly with pink fingertips.

“I know that I’d like to kiss you...if you’ll let me?”

Both of your friends waited for you as you took turns checking with both of them. The whole prospect was unimaginable, but now...with both of them in front of you, both more real than anything you could have ever thought up, it started to make all the sense in the world.

“What do you say?” Hyunjin asked with a dreamy air. It was chilly on that early fall evening, so he tucked up the blankets even higher. It was a simple gesture, but still held multitudes of his care.

“It doesn’t hurt to try...”

You felt your face pulled closer to his, and all at once his warmth flooded your lips. It was a strange feeling your friend’s lips on yours like this, but while it was new, it was comfortable. Your friend relaxed himself over you, smiling with the corners of his mouth, and slowly sucking at your lower lip like he didn’t want to startle you with anything too fast. His glossy lips stuck with his favored strawberry flavored Chapstick, and you only wanted to taste more. He hummed with a little happy sound, and his larger hands nearly covered your whole face where he helped tilt your head a little so that he could gift deeper kisses to it.

Beside him, Changbin shook with a sigh watching the two of you, a different kind of passion growing within him seeing the two of the people that he loved most do something like this. He was a bit unsure at first, but he tucked back his friend’s blonde edges to free the skin of his neck, then sucked little kisses there too. He to was careful, and didn’t want to leave marks, but rather feel the way that Hyunjin’s skin dotted with goosebumps from the feeling and then let kitten-sounding whimpers go from the pressure on his neck.

While the night itself was nearly too cold to bear, the three of your bodies heated instantly, and you nearly felt as if the sweater that kept you warm was even too much. Hyunjin parted his lips slightly to enter your mouth with his tongue, and it was a feeling so indulgent that you tried to hide from your friend how good he could make you feel out of your own embarrassment.

Your name slithered from his lips to yours, and you tucked your hands under his sweater, finding Changbin’s hands there too on the other boy’s bare skin. Hyunjin flinched from feeling both sets of hands on his muscles. His abs flared from the attention, and he accidentally bit into your lip feeling the cold pads of fingers on him.

Now that you had one taste of him your body could only crave more.

Changbin tilted Hyunjin’s gasping and swollen lips to his own where he took his own turn gifting the other boy his affection. Hyunjin pressed his whole chest into the other man in an attempt to get closer and Changbin’s hands splayed across his back to hold him tightly. The two of them giggled a bit as they roughly worked their way around each other’s mouths. Changbin, a little smaller in the other man’s wide and long arms appeared to swim in him, and the two of them melted between the thick fabric of their clothes.

Once more your hands went journeying up Hyunjin’s shirt, and you ran your fingers over every curve and twist of his back: from the little dimples above his hips, his ribs, his sweeping shoulder blades and each swelling bit of fleshy dorsal muscle you could get your hands on. You had never realized how curious you had been for him in this way, but it delighted you to feel him this close.

Legs became anxious under the wool blankets, and tangled up with little regard for personal space, and hips writhed asking for attention that had been kept for them for far too long.

Changbin moved down Hyunjin’s jaw to give him more kisses to his tender neck, sucking harder this time to imprint little purple marks. You had never taken Changbin to be one to do so, but something told you that he was one to take pride in those that he loved, and wanted them to be his only.

“B-Bin...” Hyunjin’s voice wavered, no longer loud enough to bounce off the rocks surrounding you.

From the way that Changbin kissed the other boy, you instantly craved for him to do the same for you. Across the width of your gorgeous blond friend, you tossed around Changbin’s dark and curly strands, and soaked up his warmth to your hand cracking from the cold.

You called out for him too, and found your hips grinding into Hyunjin’s back, becoming more impatient by the moment. The way that both of them touched you, and each other was...different. There was no fear, no heartbreak, no uncertainty or loneliness. When you thought of it later, it was if the three of you could actually heal from it all for the first time.

Changbin’s eyes softened hearing you beg for him, and he helped you slide closer to him.

“Hm. You’re so cute.” He muttered before filling your mouth with his own kisses. Changbin appeared to channel everything that he had in him to give to you--it was no surprise considering the romantic that he was. He was attentive and slow; rough at first, but then melting into something much more infatuating. Hyunjin took his turn swiping his hands up and down your thighs, kneading into the skin, and then tucking up your sweater. He shimmied down your body, pressing soft lips into your belly to make you tremble from the pleasant gesture. He made his way up higher, up to your chest where he exposed even more skin to the cold, but was sure to make up for it by keeping the blankets close.

Changbin swiped his thumb over both of your lips, smiling as he did so.

“Have I ever told you that you’re really breathtaking?” He said with a tone so sultry it was a bit laughable.

“I don’t think so?”

He too took a greedy hand down your chest where Hyunjin nipped lightly, admiring the way that you had looked under the moonlight. He brought his fingers back to your lips, giving you a tiny and accidental taste of his fingertips, then promptly resumed the kisses that you had asked for.

Hyunjin worked his way back up your body, stopping at last to lap lightly into your neck with tiny fleeting love bites and delighted in the way that he could see them fade onto your skin--almost like you and him were a matching set now.

Changbin broke his lips from yours, creating a tiny wet sound with a thin string of his saliva on your your bottom lip.

Hyunjin played with the elastic of your sweatpants, gasping out a bit once he saw your legs rub together in the absence of friction. His eyes wandered slowly to his other friend who had grinded his hips down into the cargo bed with a quivering length.

“Are we about to do what I think we are?” He asked, both thrilled and shocked.

“Seems like it.” Changbin said simply after going to caress the other man’s cheek.

“Damn. I was not expecting this night to go like this.” Your voice shook, either from anticipation, or from the cold--you couldn’t quite tell.

“Me neither...but I’m not mad about it.”

“Friendship offically ruined?” Hyunjin said with a mischievous little smile.

The breeze blew through, wrapped up in the smell of the crisp mountain air. Hyunjin’s little speaker played on with his songs that you still knew the names of. There wasn’t too much light, just the glow from the inside of Changbin’s car and his lanterns, but it was just enough to take in your friends fully--the ones that you had cared for so much, you didn’t even known how much you had. While you would’ve been worried about getting caught on that Wednesday night, this mattered little.

“I’d say so.” You answered, and it was exactly what they had wanted to hear.

The three of you opted to keep your tops on to fight off the elements, but under the covers, you each jiggled off pairs of joggers, jeans and sweatpants. The car bounced once more as the three of you readjusted. As soon as bare legs intertwined and the thin fabric of undergarments got thrown into the mix, you each got louder and more desperate for wandering touches that could quell your desires.

With twisted and oversized socks, Hyunjin straddled both sides of Changbin’s head, letting the other man palm the outline of his dick and squeeze at it harshly until he shivered over the smaller man’s frame.

“Damn Jin...” Changbin groaned seeing the other’s length. “You’ve been packing and didn’t feel like sharing?”

“S-shut up.” Hyunjin whined as the other teased him.

You worked bite after bite down Changbin’s torso, sucking lightly, then harder. After long, you found that it tickled him a little--this knowledge you would save for another time.

He wore baggy boxers which hid the full girth of his dick that swelled with his erection that bopped and only appeared to grow larger once you and released him. Thick veins wrapped around his length, and his tip flared where you grabbed him into your palm.

“I could say the same to you, Bin.” You teased your friend.

Hyunjin turned to see for himself, laughing out, seeing the way that it looked in your smaller hand.

“Bin, what the fuck?”

“...Intimidated are you?”

The other boy tossed his head back, hair getting caught in his hoodie. “No...”

Changbin snapped the elastic to Hyunjin’s briefs just because he liked the sound, then pulled the other’s member out to pump at the considerable length with his fist. The blonde boy choked out a gasp at the strong grip, and Changbin dug his fingers around the other’s waist to bring in him closer.

“What me to suck this pretty dick of yours?”

“Do I even need to answer that question?” Hyunjin snarked.

Further down, you worked your own hand around Changbin’s cock which you had lathered at first with your spit. Obscene sounds of the liquid cupped in your hand, then you worked your mouth down to his gloriously thick thighs. Something overtook you then, and all you wanted to to was ravage them, make them all yours, mark them as yours, and make the quiver all because of you.

Your fingernails dug into the fleshy and squishy skin, and Changbin moaned out forcefully feeling the sting.

“Feels good?” You asked with a wicked grin, then returned to sucking bruises into the inner parts of his thighs.

“You’re gonna...gonna distract me.” He sighed out, still jerking the other boy away.

Hyunjin swiped away the other man’s curly bangs so he could see him fully. He guided his length over Changbin’s mouth, teeth clenched with a tight exhale once he felt the warmth of the other’s tongue lapping up the sides of his shaft.

Your teasing was enough, and you finally granted your friend what he wanted. With a girth as wide as he had, it was somewhat of a challenge, but a challenge that you gleefully expected. He had puffed up your cheeks fully, and you could barely take in half is length without it testing the back of your throat. Still, you focused your breath coming out of your nose, and swallowed him down deeper. Your eyes wetted from the simulation to your gag reflex, but you held on for as long as you could. At last, your wish was granted, and his marked up thighs shook just for you.

“Bin...fuck.” The blond shuddered upon coaxing himself fully into his friend’s mouth. He moaned out sinfully feeling the twist of the other man’s tongue.

To give yourself a moment’s pause, you stopped, gasping over your friend’s slit, teasing your tongue around his head, dipping down to the place where he dripped with beads of precum.

Changbin laughed out breathily, swearing easily and calling out your name too with a rasp to his tone. “S-shit...”

“Getting too distracted?” Hyunjin purred, seeing the other man made a wreck by you. “What about me?”

“S-sorry.” Changbin admitted, wetting his lips and taking back Hyunjin’s cock into his hollowed cheeks.

As you swallowed around him, your friend rutted his hips just slightly, his lust overtaking him.

“Oh fuck, just like that, mm--” Hyunjin cooed, getting lost in his own ecstasy with head thrown back, and his sweater paws melting down to Changbin’s quaking chest where he supported himself.

You worked your hand and mouth up and down around the pulsating vein’s of your best friend’s length, lazily letting him feel your flattened tongue, then switching to let him feel the tightness of your throat.

Hyunjin sighed out heavily as looked down at his friend who had taken him so well. It was almost as if he felt cheated from the crappy head that he had been getting in dirty bathrooms and semi-public dressing rooms. It was dangerous in the way that Changbin would stroke him languidly, then let his drool wet his tip.

Further down your hips, the pent up heat from your own sex ached on the cool plastic of the cargo bed, and you grinded your hips down for any simulation you could get.

The blonde man whimpered out after long, feeling even hazier the longer that Changbin continued on. “Binnie...you’re...feels really--fuck--so, good...”

It was as if the words hand been a trigger for him, but your friend pulled his length for your mouth, panting out like a dog, while also robbing Hyunjin of all feeling.

“Don’t-don’t wanna cum yet...” He laughed out, “I was really fucking close.”

Hyunjin pouted, then turning back and look at you with a bit of your own saliva running down your neck.

“Your turn now.” He nearly whispered, then crawled down the other man’s body to jerk at him lightly.

“Jin! I-I--” He clenched his teeth.

“Lay down, y/n. Is there any way that you want it?”

“A-anything. Anything that you want to do. I-I don’t care.” You begged, falling under his spell.

“Aw. Cute.” He added once he had seen the purple marks on Changbin’s thighs.

You fell back under the two of them, opening yourself up for them to do as they wished. First, Hyunjin crept down your body with as much care as he could--beautiful in the way the he looked close to you like this.

Hyunjin’s hand cascaded down your chest, then belly, all the way down to your own twitching and wetted sex, and you keened directly into his touch.

“Wouldn’t you like my fingers? Filling you up...” He asked softly, finally sinking down far enough so that you could feel his words swirl over your exposed arousal, then pressing light kisses into you. “...as deep as you can take it?”

“Mm-yes.” You squeaked, opening your legs further for him.

Your other friend settled beside you, tilting your chin nearer to him. Just barely, his lips grazed over you, breathing in your air with his hooded eyes glued to your weakened form under the hands of the other boy.

“You’re that excited?” Hyunjin mocked, “We’ve barely touched you.”

“Quit talking and just get to fucking me, got it?” You demanded, mustering all of your strength.

“Oh-ho! I didn’t take you for one to bite back.”

Changbin bit a proud little smile into your lip, wrapping his arms around you. The blond man then toyed with your entrance, licking his fingers, wetting them, then pushed them slowly into your needy hole.

“Ahhh, look at that, so fucking tight around my fingers, You want it that bad?”

His long and lithe digits filled you up where he started to thrust them in and out, using his free hand to push your jolting thighs back. Your right hand traversed it’s way under the blankets which you had readjusted, all the way down to Changbin’s leaking length which still blushed red. You wrapped around him carefully, promising his to lips that you would go easy on him.

As Hyunjin curled his fingers, the other man then reached down to rub at you fervently, matching the pace at which Hyunjin flicked his wrist. Your hips lurched feeling the combination of each sensation, and you cried out loudly for the two of them--the sound itself bounced off that empty space where the three of you existed, almost as if you were calling out for the whole starry sky to hear you.

“I-I think that we were really missing out on something...” You joked with an airy breath and both of your friends joined you.

Changbin’s teeth caught his lip as your hand squeezed and twisted, and you could see with every ounce of restraint that he had, he was holding back.

“Way to make me want to fuck you sideways, huh?” He said with a little grin, observing the size difference between your hand and his member.

Your back arched when Hyunjin reached in even deeper, and you dissolved into the pleasure that he brought you--an amazing kind of all-consuming feeling that shattered your will, and sent you mewling out into your other friends mouth.

“I-I can’t wait anymore,” You begged, clawing right into Hyunjin’s golden trellises.

Changbin scooched up quickly, taking half of the blankets with him, thankfully giving the other boy a nod when he let him be the one to use your entrance. With his brutish hands, he flipped you to your stomach, and hiked up your hips too, cold fingers holding them in place. Hyunjin kneeled permitting you access to his cock which as softened slightly, so he pumped himself back into place with his eyes holding yours.

At first, Changbin teased you with his tip, adding pressure to your twitching hole, then guided himself in bit...by bit.

The blonde tapped his dick to your lips, holding firmly the back of your neck as you took him in and choked out at the way that the other stretched your walls. Changbin grabbed at your ass in handfuls starting slowly, grinding his hips in little circles to simulate you deeper.

“Hm. Who would have known that your pretty little hole would be so perfect for me? Guess we really were missing out on something.”

Hyunjin growled lowly feeling his cock slide down to the back of your throat, brows crossed, and the bottom of his hoodie resting just above his hips.

“Squeeze my leg if it becomes too much, okay? ...I’m gonna fuck your mouth, okay?”

You nodded best you could, and he started to thrust carefully, every few seconds you would hold his member to drag it against the sides of your cheeks, causing him to huff out loudly at the fleshy bits of your mouth.

Changbin quickened his pace, doubling over your back as he lost himself in you, grunting out in his rhythm. From both sides, your best friends used you, resorting to something much more feral as they edged themselves closer. From the motions, the car rocked back and fourth like a bed and it’s headboard.

You too felt the tension build deeply in your core, and it begged with reckless abandon at your dizzy mind that drew itself closer and closer into the feeling of being utterly all theirs.

In many ways, you guessed that you always had been--while it had been unspoken at the time. Now, having the two of them wholly like this under the silver sheen of the moon, the cold biting at your skin, then furiously met with your heat, you could no longer see them as the two broken souls whom you had bonded with at first. They were now everything, everything that you had wished and hoped for.

Even now that you had become much more to each other, there was nothing that could take away the closeness that you had shared with them.

“F-fuck--gonna cum--” Changbin announced while he pounded frantically. The other man rolled his hips into your mouth quicker too, seeking the same kind of release.

“Y/n?” He said with a broken breath, and you muffled out a moan to let him know that you were nearly there too.

“Oh shit, oh shit--”

Changbin grunted out, with a bit of panic to his voice, forcefully removed himself from you seconds before he spilled his white seed onto your hole, then sending it dripping down your leg.

“Oh fuck--s-sorry--” He gasped out, still jerking his cock while he pulsed.

“Bin!! What the fuck??” Hyunjin yelled out, his words quickly turned into mumbles of nonsense when you took him down as deeply as you could manage without gagging, focusing only on him even though your sex ached feeling so empty.

When he had come down after a few moments, Changbin took to fucking your walls once more with his thick fingers, not even caring that he had fucked his white warmth back into you at the same time. Meanwhile, he returned to rubbing of your sensitive flesh, trying to replace the feeling he had robbed you of.

“Cum for me baby, cum for me.”

On cue, you came in waves, shuddering over Changbin’s fingers slicked with his cum, just as your other friend released down your throat and the warm liquid painted your tongue.

His blissful moans turned into light chuckles as he milked himself into your mouth, giving you every last drop. Changbin drove you further, overstimulating you to the point where your knees nearly gave out, and you had to beg him to slow.

After each of your bodies collapsed weakly to the bed of blankets and rejected clothing, you drew the covers back up over yourselves, feeling the cold seep in once more. Both of your friends kissed perfect adoring kisses into your raw lips, tasting the both of themselves on your skin. While your thighs still stuck with your friend’s cum, it didn’t matter as much now that you had huddled up cozily into their arms.

“Bin, you asshole!!” Hyunjin jested, and flicked the other boy’s forehead. “You fucking finished before you were supposed to!!”

“What the hell was I supposed to do?? I’d already edged myself enough!!”

“You could’ve tried!!”

“Whatever, it felt fucking amazing, don’t blame me.” He added with a smug smirk, “You felt fucking amazing, y/n.”

“Did it feel good for you too, y/n?” Hyunjin gingerly asked, falling right back to his soft and adorable composure that you knew well.

“Like Bin said, it was fucking amazing.”

“So we all agree then? We won’t forget that this happened?”

You gave Hyunjin a little nod to say yes, and your group of three hugged eachother even closer. You hadn’t noticed it, but at some point, Hyunjin’s music had turned off.

“So, this means that we’re like, a thing now?” Changbin asked, playing with the drawstring to your hoodie.

You peppered Hyunjin’s forehead with a tiny kiss. “I’d like to be.”

He nuzzled into the crook of your neck and reached out for Changbin across the expanse. “Me too.”

~🌹~

Bunch of (Ro)ses!

@minaamhh @dazzlehoseok @synnocence @jjewibeans @hyunsluvv @unexceptional-h @bobawithchaitea @lechanters @sailorhyunjinz @silencefavarchive @eunaeiekim @lunarskzzz

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prfctethereal · 3 years

Text

just another horror movie. | james potter

pairing: james potter x reader

chapter: one

warnings: NSFW, smut, oral (male receiving), exhibitionism, talk of dead bodies, actual dead body, blood, vomiting

word count: 3.7k

read the prologue here or on ao3 here

summary: you and james take a quick detour through the woods, to have a bit of morning fun, but find something gruesome.

Three weeks earlier…

The quiet town of Hogwarts had never been quieter. It was typical though; towns that resided in the countryside of Scotland were often described as “quiet”, unbeknownst to most that it was anything but. Except, Hogwarts lived up to the stereotype. Peaceful, tame, quiet.

Quiet.

God, you needed some quiet.

Exam season was narrowing in, which meant endless nights of caffeine and random studying music that you found on spotify, its main purpose to help you concentrate. It was unfortunate, with the school year coming to a close, but you were determined to leave the year proud and satisfied with your work. Everything was going perfectly so far. Nothing could screw it up.

This is what you told yourself as you began your walk to school this morning. Leaving your house at seven in the morning on the dot had become the regular for you. Now that Summer was finally coming in, the walks were warm, without chilling breezes. You could feel comfortable with the wind in your hair and a light shirt on your back.

Something felt tranquil about this morning in particular. You didn’t feel held up or anxious. You didn’t even feel stressed as you busily organised your school bag this morning. You didn’t even blink an eye when you dropped your chemistry textbook on your foot. You were in a good mood. You were glowing.

Maybe it was because you had been getting some amazing sex from your amazing boyfriend lately.

Maybe.

But today wasn’t for what ifs. Today, you had one thing on your mind. A conversation needed to be had between you and your guidance counsellor, as the prospects of colleges were starting to roll around. Applications were beginning to close and your aspirations for life after high school were beginning to get clearer and clearer. You no longer wanted to be tied down in a small town, where the most important job you could get was at the Mayor’s office, sitting at a desk, listening to the complaints of highly egotistical citizens.

Wasn’t for you.

Your mind drifted off to your could-be life, and before you knew it, your legs had walked to your boyfriend’s house without you even realising. It was something unconscious and natural, something you were completely used to. The sight of the grand, three-story mansion that your lover lived in brought unprecedented comfort.

The spiralling pillars covered in the greenest of vines was something from a fairytale. A pale cerulean was painted across the panelling, giving a dream-like feel. Right above the front door housed a giant window, one that opened up into James’ bedroom.

Right. James.

Walking up the path, you felt comforted by the familiar sound of gravel beneath your feet. It reminded you of all the nights you had snuck up this very path to climb into James’ bedroom via the window. Nostalgic really.

Now you were here in broad daylight, ready to walk hand in hand with your boyfriend to school. Knocking on the front door, you were excited to see a nearly immediate opening of the door, with a very joyous boy standing there. His signature dopey smile glistened even brighter, as his eyes lingered over your clothed body a little longer than expected. His tongue shot out very quickly over the pink cushions of his lips, something you could’ve missed in a blink of an eye, but you didn’t. Laughing, he pushed his glasses up the nose of his bridge, before running his fingers through his unruly hair.

“Should we go then?” It sounded as though it was the first time James had spoken this morning, a fact that you didn’t mind, as your brain thought unholy things when listening to his gravely morning voice.

“Soon.” You mumbled, your voice trailing off slightly, as you stepped towards James, swinging your arms around the back of his neck. Taking a breath of his scent, you leaned forward, placing a delicate kiss upon his lips. They were slightly chapped, but you didn’t care.

It may have been a Summer day, but that wasn’t the only reason you were feeling hot.

Stopping yourself before you went too far, you pulled backwards, not before suggestively running your hands down James’ chest, smirking against his lips. “Come on, let's go.” You remarked playfully, smacking your hand lightly against James’ firm butt, which elicited a short laugh from the bubbly man.

So, hand in hand, you and James darted down his footpath, back into the street. Even more birds had woken up by now, with a choir of chirping serenading your descent into the bustling streets of Hogwarts.

Everything now seemed a little more public than you initially thought. Neighbours were waking up and going to work now too, giving no shorter than five second glances at you and James’ hand intertwined. You know what they would say; old people gossiped too much for your liking. It made you especially nervous, knowing that your parents didn’t know about your illicit relationship. Maybe it should stay that way. Well, before any neighbours get a little too gossipy in the weekly book club meetings.

“Are you listening to me?” James asked, snapping you out of your thoughtful haze. Blinking twice, you returned your attention to James, who’s eyes were laced with concern as he looked you over once again, eyebrows furrowed. “You seem out of it.”

“Oh, sorry.” Your voice came out almost silently as you looked away, flushed and embarrassed. “What were you talking about?”

“How I was going to fuck you so hard later today that you are going to struggle to walk.” James followed his statement with a dash of laughter, something that you mimicked like a pirate’s parrot.

“Well, I hope that’s not a joke, my dear.” You flashed a sly smile, looking James up and down. You both stopped walking, with James now admiring the way you were biting your lip, as if you were a siren trying to entrap him. Surely, you guys wouldn’t quickly dash away into the bush and go for a quickie right now, right?

James thought about it too, eyeing up someone’s poor hydrangea bush. Unfortunately, there would be too many witnesses, and exhibitionism wasn’t something you had both openly discussed before, although it wasn’t completely off the table.

“Lunch period.” James finally said, stopping his momentary halt, and marching forward.

“Lunch period?”

James leaned over, pressing his lips so close to your ear. His hot breath sent shivers down your spine, ones that ended in your core. “Meet me in the hallway between the chemistry and physics lab. I think there’s a new cupboard we could Christen.”

Giggling in excitement, you rubbed your fingers up the length of James’ arm, tugging him down the footpath, continuing your conversation about whatever. You learnt that he had a History test today, all about women earning the right to vote. You sighed as you listened to him talk about what he was passionate about, his stressed vowel sounds turning you on more than you would’ve thought.

Then came a predicament. An actual, real life crossroad. Right in front of you was where the footpath curved to the left, following along the road onto the main road through town. It was the way you went every day, with the road taking you directly to school when you walked along it, arriving perfectly at seven twenty-five every day. It was ideal.

This morning, though, you were feeling cheeky. From this footpath curve was another opportunity. The footpath also opened into a dirt path, something that twisted into the woods, or, as the conspiracy theorists of the town called it, the Forbidden Forest. It was hardly forbidden though; they literally took Scouts classes there, and those have kids as young as seven in them.

Feeling devilish, you paused James for a moment, the cogs turning over in your brain. You might arrive at school a little later than you first thought, but at least you would have some distance between the prying eyes of the Hogwarts neighbourhood. And maybe, you could have a little bit of fun too.

“James,” you smirked, tugging at the edge of his shirt, capturing his attention, something that wasn’t actually that hard to do, “shall we go for a detour this morning?”

Your eyes flashed over the forest and onto the quiet stillness of it. You could feel James’ heart rate speed up, but it wasn’t because he was scared. He was just as excited as you. It was like a switch had flicked on in his brain, although he was still hesitant, his feet still planted firmly on the ground.

“Are you sure?” James questioned. “How late is this going to make us?”

“Not that late at all.” You justified, mocking offence. “Oh, we should get there at maybe, quarter to eight? And besides, it’s fresh air, it’ll be good for us, and our lungs. Think of it as reversing the side effects of being around Sirius and Remus when they smoke all the time. Your lungs will thank us.”

“I’m not sure that’s how it works.” James laughed.

“How would you be so sure?”

“I’m the one that takes biology out of the two of us.”

You had to try another tactic, so, you jutted your bottom lip out of your mouth, putting on your best doe eyes, hoping you could flutter your eyelashes enough for him to give into temptation. “Please?”

A sigh escaped James lips as he seemed to give in. His reluctant look of worry was quickly replaced by an eager spark. Knitting his fingers in with yours, you two walked hand and hand together down the dirt path. The change of feeling beneath your feet was almost instantly recognisable, the normal, smooth, concrete path replaced by the rough dirt, and slight mud, even though it hadn't rained in days.

As you continued to wander down the path, you were suddenly covered in a canopy of shade, as the trees of the forest soon covered your heads. The route got a tad darker, the path no longer illuminated with the light of the sun, not that you minded though. You could still easily see where you were going.

You felt a little colder without the extra heat from the sun. You didn’t like the way goosebumps rose on your skin or the way you had to rub your hands along your arm to keep yourself warm. You felt out of control, a feeling of which you loathed. You didn’t want your perfect morning to be ruined by a little chill.

When you reached a tall, winding tree, you stopped James from his walk, pulling him off the path. Luckily, you had spotted a small dip in the earth, perfect to stay in, somewhere where regular bystanders wouldn’t find you. Happy with your discovery, you looked back at James, who had a puzzled look across his face.

“What’s going on?”

“Can I kiss you?” You asked breathlessly, your hands already getting fidgety. You wanted to be connected with James again, intertwined if you will. You needed to feel his skin, even if it was barely quarter past seven in the morning.

“Yes, love.” James breathed out, his voice quiet and shallow. WIth the consent, you leaned upwards, connecting your lips at last. It felt right to be pressed up against each other once again, even if it had been only yesterday when you had last felt such passion.

You deepened the kiss, feeling urgent to make the most of the short time you had together. Your mouths melded together almost perfectly, your lips pushing against each other like a playful pillow fight, one which you were determined to win.

Feeling mischievous, you reached to James’ hair, tugging lightly on his roots, an action you knew he liked. This action got the response you wanted from him, a needy moan, in which you took the opportunity to slip your tongue into his mouth, battling it out with his own, regaining confidence and dominance.

You pulled away, your cheeks flushed from the lack of oxygen. James looked disheveled but pleased, wanting to continue your little make out session, but unfortunately, you had limited time.

“Can I suck you off?” You whispered against his mouth innocently, looking up at his hazel eyes, brushing his hair off of his forehead. You could hear him gulp with nervousness, before nodding quickly, his hands making their way to his slacks.

You knew James was slipping into a mindset clouded by arousal, so you sank to your knees slowly in front of him, still looking up at him through your long lashes. On your journey downwards, you carefully unzipped the zipper on his pants, pulling them down to ankles, until he was clad in only his boxers.

Lifting yourself up slightly onto the balls of your feet, you kissed him lightly on the outside of his boxers, feathering gentle kisses. You knew you were being a tease, but you needed him nice and hard. As you felt his bulge setting like cement under your lips, you lifted your hands up, joining your lips so you could palm him, stroking the material.

When James started moaning, - “oh please, stop teasing, I beg you,” - you released him from the cage of his underwear, dragging the clothing down the apex of his things, watching the muscles twitch in excitement. There, James’ half hard cock laid against his thighs, the tip a gentle rouge colour.

Your fingers grazed over his prick, lightly tracing a prominent vein of the underside of the sex muscle. James groaned in pleasure, the teasing getting too much for him to handle. Feeling benevolent, you dribbled saliva over the tip of the cock, before wrapping your entire hand around it. You started stroking harder and faster, making sure James could feel all of you in a way you hand. He was starting to fall apart above you, but it wasn;t enough.

“So- so good.” James murmured, his eyes gently shutting as he became lost in the feeling. “Don’t stop, please don’t stop. I love your hands, so perfect, so precise. Perfect for me, precise for me.”

“It was like you were made for me.” You agreed with the raven haired boy, before bringing your lips down to the tip of his penis. This action shocked James, but the whimper out of his mouth made you know he was enjoying it. Living from the excitement of the exhibisionist route, you swiveled your tongue across the tip, reaching down the length of the cock, savouring his taste.

“Right there.” James moane, as you brung the rest of your mouth down over his now fully hard cock, reveling in the flavour of the salty precum that was leaking from his angry tip. With a smooth rhythm, you bobbed your head up and down on James’ cock, the sound of his moans itching you on.

You knew you were running out of time, and you still wanted him to cum, so you sped up your movements on James’ cock, stroking the base of his cock, which could not fit in your mouth. Adding to the pleasure, you let your hands move downwards a bit more, so they played gently with James’ hanging balls.

This applied pressure was becoming too much for James, as his breath became laboured and a tingling feeling was nearly bursting at his cock. “I’m gonna cum, please, I’m going to do it.”

You lifted your mouth off of James’ cock, just to murmur, “let go.” James, with your permission, spurted his cum across your hands. Eager to savour him, you opened your mouth, catching as much of the milking substance as possible, not wanting to waste any of it. Jacking James off through the entire thing, you watched as his orgasm crashed over him entirely, the way his face contorted in pleasure almost being the most beautiful portrait to you.

Licking the rest of his cum off of your fingers, you stood up, wiping your knees off, as the dirt sticking to you was becoming slightly uncomfortable. While you stood up, you reached from the top of James’ pants, pulling them upwards as you went.

“Thanks.” James almost laughed, except he still sounded out of breath, which was very reasonable though. You did just suck the life out of him. His fingers worked quickly, rearranging his pants, and cock, so that you both could continue on your way to school.

As you waited for James to finish cleaning himself up, your nose turned upwards. There was a strange smell coming from the area, one you didn’t notice before when you were on your knees in front of James. It was a smell that you were relatively unfamiliar with, but all you knew was that it stank like rotten meat.

“Can you smell that?” You asked James, looking off into the little ditch you were beside. Wherever you were, it seemed that it had been recently disturbed. Broken twigs snapped into pieces laid amongst crunched up leaves. If you squinted, you were sure you could even make out that faintest of footprints on the ground. It was odd, but nothing you haven't seen before in the woods. The smell on the other hand…

“Smells like thrown out vegetables.” James readjusted his glasses before holding out his hand, inviting you to close your fingers in with his. “I bet some old granny thought it would be a good idea to throw out their compost in the woods. If the council found out, they would have a fit. You know all about their weirdly tight rules on littering? It’s not even bad for the environment.”

You had stopped listening a while ago. Something didn’t feel right, but it was nothing you could sort out now. You weren’t satisfied but you turned back towards James anyway, knowing that you needed to head off to school or you would be running a little bit behind schedule. As you turned around, you noticed James’ face morph from a cheeky grin to a concerned frown.

“What is it?” You pondered, stepping towards James, matching his pear-shaped frown with one of your own.

“Did you cut yourself when you were on your knees?”

“Huh?”

“Look.” James bent down to look at your knees and you turned your head down too. What you thought had just been a bit of dirt must’ve been something else. Your knees were covered in a browny-red, maybe a maroon colour. It looked as though your entire knee had been cut open, as blood was still dripping from your skin, but that couldn’t be right. You felt no pain on your knee. You hadn’t cut yourself.

Swiping your fingers across your knee, you gathered some of the drying blood on your fingers. This was the first time you had looked at your hands since you wiped off your knees before and you saw that you had smudged blood stains all across your palm. You nearly barfed on the spot. You felt incredibly uneasy, like a stormy ocean filled your stomach.

You lifted your fingers up to your nose, a theory hypothesising into your head, and you were right. The smell of the blood matched the rotten meat smell you could smell before. As if you were a dog, the odor latched onto your nose and expanded, its putrid smell being the only thing in your senses.

“I'm going to be sick.” You doubled over a rock. Resting your hand against a boulder, you hovered downwards over a patch of leaves, letting your breakfast out. Your head was reeling as you could still smell the retching odor of the old blood. You couldn’t get it out of your mind, so you leaned over again, round two of the hurling intervention.

James rushed over to you, placing his warm hands on your back, rubbing soothing circles. He wished he could say that his main focus was to make you feel better, but it wasn’t. Over in the deepest part of the dish, he noticed something strange. It was almost like a small lump in the ground, something unnatural. It seemed to be covered very messily by old leaves and sticks, and an entire tree branch, as if it would make it any less inconspicuous. It even had that opposite of the desired effect, seemingly sticking out like a sore thumb.

“Darling,” James waited until you lifted your head back up, regaining your breath once again, “what do you think that is?”

James’ hand pointed into the direction of the ditch, in which you followed his eyesight and body movements. You could see it too; just a lump in the ground. Your mind was racing of what it could be. A dead animal? A pile of rotten food? Maybe a…

“Holy shit!” You had only just realised that James had already walked over there, except his body was covering your eye line, and you couldn’t actually see what James had found. Although, he told you immediately. “Quick, call the police. It’s a body.”

A dead body in Hogwarts? Making sure you didn’t lose any more of your stomach through puking, you rushed onto the path in the woods, grabbing your phone out of your pocket, hoping you could get service all the way out here in the woods. Fumbling to turn your phone on, you nearly groaned out in annoyance when you saw that you were getting no bars of service.

Running back to James, you couldn’t stop at the moment. You called out to him, your words a blurred mess, trying to convey to him that you were going to find someone to help. Unsure if he had even heard you, you ran back down the path, your feet carrying you to where you needed to go, unable to bring yourself to a cohesive thought.

When you exited the forest, you flicked your head around, trying to find someone, anyone, that could help in the moment. The first person you saw was your calculus teacher, Mr Slughorn, to which you promptly called out to.

“Mr Slughorn!” You cupped your hands around your mouth to project your words across louder. Mr Slughorn snapped his head around and gave a friendly wave. Annoyed, you shook your head. “Call the police!”

“What?” He called back, walking towards you now. You groaned, trying again.

“There's a dead body in the forest. Call the police!”

***

lmao. anyway this has become a series whoops.

#James potter #James Potter x reader #harry potter #marauders #marauders era #James Potter smut #jahmfic

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honestlyfrance · 3 years

Text

just feel; let’s exist

ship: sam/bucky

warnings: hurt/comfort, suicidal implications

summary:

“Where are you, Sam?” Bucky whispered, dragging his hand on Sam’s back, rubbing careful circles to ease the tension in his man’s muscles.

Sam shuddered at the touch, murmuring, “I don’t know,”

Bucky tries to keep Sam grounded for the night.

—■—■—

We’d all like to know what’s it like living in the Avengers Mansion secluded in the vast forest, the same mansion that you could only reach with a rocky dirt path, the same one where it stretches with its landing strips and pools, the same one where it looked more like a castle lost in the 16th century than one in the 21st century, and the same one where the sunrises were almost as perfect as the ones in Wakanda. Despite this description, Sam Wilson would tell you it was a noisy place, always full of fights and silent conversations—other times it’s a game of cat and mouse on who can eat the last platter of brownies before the super-soldiers can get to them.

Everyone wanted to know what it felt like to live at the top of the world, unbothered and untethered. Not even touched by the weather, god gifted and forever immaculate: What does heaven feel like? They’ll say it tastes like copper blood, everlasting and stained. Others would say that heaven does not exist, and it’s hell on earth in the Avengers Compound; constant tension in the hallways, there’s always a reason for thunder to break through the walls and shatter the mirrors. It doesn’t sound like heaven, and maybe it shouldn’t be called as such.

Most nights it did feel like heaven on earth, when the room was just the right cold, the water pressure was just right, and the hallways were peaceful as it can be on a Thursday, it’s almost as if you were on top of the world. Damned those who think not, it was better when it was empty and vast as it should always be.

It was always so full of life, and other times it was full of sorrow, resentfulness, and even, death.

This was one of those nights, the nights when Sam feels decayed and broken to the bone , almost numb at the overriding sensation throughout his body. It should’ve been illegal to feel this way, empty and vulnerable to even air, feeling as if you may crumble at the very touch of kindness. It shouldn’t be like this, but it always has to be; c'est la vie. What can anyone do?

Sam sat on the rounded couch in the vast living area. It had high ceilings, two chandeliers hanging precariously with its heavy diamonds and crystals; the couch was in an unlevel flooring, shaped for the large rounded velvet couch; the moonlight was streaming in the drawn open French windows that reached the arches of the walls; the rose bushes were in full bloom in view of the windows, full and lovely; the TV screen was sat atop a long desk, decorated with picture frames of the members of the Avengers all smiling and serious; the room was dim lit except for the moonlight, and there’s an uneasiness in the room. It was nearing midnight, and Sam didn’t make any plans to go back to bed.

Everything seemed to swallow him whole, and the vastness was only eating at his sides, bringing him down just to build him back up again with hope; it’s a sickening plot to take him down but his mind was almost peeling at the seams, and there’s a need to kill his overwhelmed senses before dawn, because there’s a ticking in his head that he had interpreted as a ticking bomb that would implode him and his thoughts when the sun would rise.

It’s saddening, how the world could beat him down into a pulp, taking his mentality and sensibility. The world has stripped him down to the bone and left his soul to burst into flames, an open-to-all show for the world to see. This is your Captain America! and you’ve let him burn to ashes! The world has left him to drown like an Icarus, burnt to a crisp and broken like glass. Nothing could ever piece him back together except for death, and even then it wouldn’t be the same. There’ll be an aftertaste in his mouth that would taste like gunfire and carcasses, and he wouldn’t be able to wash that foul taste without burying himself six-feet-under.

In the silence of the mansion and the dimness of the night, it’s here that he let himself daze into nothingness, feeling the void wrap itself into his bones, etching his fate with a pen-knife and salt, embracing his wounds as if the Mona Lisa to its Louvre. Sam lets himself decay with the stars, and if his fate leads him into his bed, then so be it; he’s lived long enough, won’t that mean he’d die short enough?

The silence seemed to ring in his ears, and there’s an ache in his chest he couldn’t cater to; it seemed too far away for him to reach, and if it was close enough for his fingers to grasp, it would turn futile. He would let it be; who’s going to tell him otherwise? There’s not a person in the world who decided to let Sam thrive, and even if they did, it was obviously not enough. Sam knew his worth, but did he know this could save him? Months of spiraling into the void, Sam has finally recollected and called himself “extinct.” Reminiscing would lead him nowhere, and the happy thoughts he had clutched onto had become stone; Sam did know his worth, but it only became his enemy.

Sam knew what it meant to know things and had felt things to conflict it, in the end burying himself in his own grave from the pressure of the world. Life has offered him endless tragedies and he has offered nothing but service, ruthlessly nice and angelic to the halo and wings, and it’d be a shame to have him drown in Atlas and the world’s burdens, but that’s what people make him do; stripped down to “support” and “partner” all in one, the world will forever see him in this facade.

As the ache in his chest began to sear him, Sam suppressed his cries to beg mercy at the world; he’s been abused to the bone that he’d let himself get down on his knees to beg for a sliver of mercy from the world. There’s tears rolling down his cheeks as he gritted his teeth, clenching his jaw at every sensation he felt. There was the need to numb himself, and he’d do that even if he has to physically hurt himself, to ache at the skin— yes, maybe that would work…

Footsteps approach Sam, breaking his soliloquies. Sam was left with ragged breaths, wiping his tears away with his bare hands when Bucky Barnes had plopped down right beside him, invading his personal space. Bucky was panting, wiping his forehead with a face towel before facing Sam with a splitting grin; it disappeared when Bucky saw the red in Sam’s eyes, and so Bucky immediately gave the man some space.

“Hey,” Bucky gently spoke, his hands wringing in between his thighs, “You— You don’t have to say anything,” he put on a small smile for Sam, but the man only sniffled, turning into convulsive sobs, “Do you want me to leave? I can give you more space. Do you want me to stay? I have some, uh, few ideas to get your mind off things…”

Sam turned to the rough fabric of the couch for comfort, crying into it as he choked on his sobs. Bucky sat beside the man, resting his chin on his crossed arms on the backrest of the couch; he had fear glinting in his eyes as he watched one of the strongest men he knew break down in pieces. There’s an unmistakable anguish in the air, one that brittles the strong with crashing waves, and Bucky feared for it.

“What do you need right now, Sam,” Bucky whispered into the darkness, and there’s a softness in his tone that just breaks Sam even more.

Sam looked up from his arms, a glare burying Bucky to the ground as he says, “Don’t treat me like I’m fragile,”

Bucky took a double-take, but nonetheless nodded carefully, afraid he’d hurt Sam even more. There’s an unspoken rule about comforting someone: Don’t hurt them even more . Bucky stood up, arms in awkward positions as Sam went back sniffling into his arms. Bucky’s heartstrings chimed to the tune of a love song, one that sings just for Sam; there’s now the only goal he had in mind: make Sam happy .

“Everyone’s fragile, Sam,” Bucky whispered, his voice barely above a murmur, but Sam must’ve heard it, because he stopped his whimpers and stayed robotically still, “Their brokenness only depends on how people handle them,”

Sam looked up, his lips twisted as his eyes searched for something in Bucky. “Stay,” he whimpered.

Bucky warily comes back in his seat, Sam inching towards the warmth of Bucky. Bucky wrapped his arms around Sam’s waist as the man leaned into Bucky’s body, nestling his head on Bucky’s chest. They lied down like this for minutes long, feeling each other’s breathing blend into each other. Bucky tries to even his breathing, already fearing the way his own heart beats deafeningly into the night; does Sam hear the fear and anxiety Bucky feels for him revibrate in his chest, or was Sam too deep into his thoughts to feel anything outside of him?

Bucky planted a soft and gentle kiss on the top of Sam’s head, and Sam instinctively groaned at the action; Sam’s body reacted by burying himself deeper into Bucky, as if it was still possible. If anything, they were practically connected into each other, atoms sharing and merging with one another they wouldn’t be surprised if they had melted into each other's souls by dawn.

Dawn .

Sam lifted his head, and Bucky whimpered at the loss of heat. Sam set his hands on Bucky’s knees as he blinked at the darkness, trying to figure out the murky shapes in the living area; he almost jumped when he saw something move in the darkness, only to realize it was Natasha Romanoff’s cat, Liho, moving around by the carpet. Bucky watched the back of Sam’s head, his eyebrows knitted together as he tried to decipher Sam. It seemed like everyday that Sam was jumpy and spaced out, almost like an astronaut from the many times he’s been into the void — Bucky just wanted to bring him back down with him on Earth.

“Where are you, Sam?” Bucky whispered, dragging his hand on Sam’s back, rubbing careful circles to ease the tension in his man’s muscles.

Sam shuddered at the touch, murmuring, “I don’t know,”

Liho is now on the other end of the couch joined by the other cats, Alpine, Goose, and Figaro; so that’s what those menaces do at night.

Bucky sighed, bringing back his grip on Sam’s shoulder, easing out the ache of the world out of him; if it was only possible. Bucky wished it was that easy, because Sam didn’t deserve an inch of this bullcrap, however the world seemed fit, angels just don’t need the burden of Atlas as if it wasn’t from different religions in the first place. If there was just a magic word Bucky could say to bring Sam back down on base, he'd make a song out of it— Anything. Anything that would give back Sam his control, Bucky would pick it out from hell itself if it could bring Sam peace and comfort.

“Why do I bother,” Sam murmured, his voice raspy and ragged.

Bucky hesitantly set his forehead on Sam’s back, breathing in the scent of him; he exhaled, saying, “We bother because we care,” he breathed in once more, his eyes shut closed, “Sometimes we care too much to feel anything. Which is why we rest… Feel… Breathe in…”

“I know,” Sam’s eyebrows furrowed, staring into the void of darkness as his idle hands grew sweatier and colder, “I… I can’t seem to do anything right now…”

“Then let’s just exist, Sam. Come back down for you.”

Bucky rested his head right on Sam’s back, eyes upwards as he heard the mewling of the four cats approaching them. They both chuckled at that, and for a moment, the world stopped spinning and had rested just for the two of them. Sam lied back down, bringing Bucky down with him; Sam curled himself deeper into Bucky’s chest as the other rested his feet on top of the mahogany coffee table before them. Liho finds a spot between Bucky’s legs and Alpine is soon behind him; the other two cats, Bucky thinks, should scram before the two of them do anything more.

They sat down for a moment, overwhelmed by the silence to move, and it feels nice to have the weight be lifted from one’s chest; there’s a pang of pain to breathe but there’s also the love that revibrates within the heart, and it blares so loudly between these two it shouldn’t be hard enough to stay oblivious to this.

“You don’t have to talk,” Bucky whispered in Sam’s ear; Sam hummed in acknowledgement, “I know. I know it’s hard, and it’s fine to be fragile,” he rubbed circles on Sam’s back with his palm, then his fingers, feeling Sam sigh deeply into his chest, “One thing I’ve learned is that… You should just exist. Alone or together, any is fine; just breathe and feel, Sam. The pain leaves like a bandaid,”

It’s probably near two in the morning when Natasha emerges from her bedroom on the other side of the mansion to retrieve Liho, scooping up the noir feline from Bucky’s legs. In exchange, Natasha had brought the two a blanket, and apparently Bucky had requested to bring his laptop and secret stash of champagne. No sooner had she left with her cat, Goose had followed as well, meowing all the way down the hallway.

“What are you doing?” Sam drawled out, suppressing a grin as Bucky laid out the blanket around them.

Bucky had set down his laptop on his lap, opening up a browser and going incognito; Sam watched Bucky enter a website that had too many ads for one’s liking, entering a movie title that had only disappeared from the cinemas just yesterday. The movie began to play and Bucky raised the volume, Alpine setting her paws on his arm as he did this. Chuckling, Sam popped open the champagne with surprising ease, laughing fully as some of it spilled; Figaro crawled on top of his legs, and Sam had run a hand across his cat’s fur as Bucky snuggled deeper into the duvet.

They took turns drinking the alcohol straight from the bottle, and no sooner had Bucky seen a smile form on Sam’s face, all gap-tooth and wide, it was too beautiful to miss, even in the darkness. Everything fell back into place, but there’s a new atmosphere surrounding them as explosions and guns blared from the speakers, their two cats purring in the background making everything harder to move, and their breathing was too close to each other to ignore.

They didn’t know who was the first one to lean into the kiss, but they both knew they wanted this. Long and languid kisses ensued between them, and Bucky’s advice ringed in their heads: Just feel , and they did; they felt each other’s skin against each other as their hands found their way to cup the other man’s cheek and bring them closer with a hand on the neck. They rested against each other’s foreheads as they breathed heavily, eyes still closed as they let the taste of the other be ingrained into their heads, never wanting to forget what love finally tasted like: it tasted like champagne turned into wine and the living room into an abandoned movie theatre, and it felt ten times colder but they were too warm in their hearts to complain.

They stayed like this for another movie, just existing together and alone, and if the world has decided that enough was enough and that they should break apart, just know this: though they were both fragile, in each other’s presence they felt too strong to even believe they were weak in the first place. Dawn had just arrived, and they could say they’ve stayed for another day.

#sambucky #sam wilson #bucky barnes #winterfalcon #sam wilson sundays #france: works #france: writing #sambuckyfic

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spaceasianmillennial · 3 years

Text

Part 1: Home

Summary: Trevor making his way back to the castle after defeating Death.

This is what it was, a shockwave, and then the sun pouring from the cracking skull.

I’ve done it. And so I give the world to Alucard and Sypha.

And he was hurling through the multicolored cavern as if worlds whirled and orbited around him. This was his ascendancy, he figured, this was the multi-windowed passage toward the end, those countless levels of Hell his aunt told him about. He’ll see them all again, his father, mother, siblings if God wasn’t fucking around. What a story he'll bring to them.

But then his jaw was slammed rudely into the dirt. He lifted his head to breathe and cough out the grass blades and pebbles. A few seconds later, he squinted. Perhaps he was hurled into a circle Hell after all, perhaps taking down the Evil wasn’t enough to God. If he had the energy, he would have chuckled at the idea that God decided not to throw him in Hell.

When the haze faded and the numbness faded, he suddenly fathomed the sound of water.

God must have flung me into the wrong Corridor. There was a sun, one that was clearly rising. It looked too nice, too serene.

Only then when he dragged himself to the water to dunk his red-welted arm and drink like a hungry beast and splash it onto his cuts and bruises did he suppose he was brought back to Earth. The spires were nowhere to be seen. This was not familiar territory. He looked for Sypha, for Alucard, but then remembering their two small shapes, the dark of Alucard’s cloak and blue of Sypha’s robes, outrunning the collapse of the bridge.

His family trained him to heal the overexerted body after the battle. Rest was important, reusing muscles in the intervals of rest was key. He turned himself over and laid on his back and let himself watch the clouds on the oranged dawn sky. How long did he hurl through the Corridor? It felt like a second and eons. It was night when he slayed Death--slayed Death, what a story for Belmont generations, he hoped to have landed in the corridor with then.

And so he was alone again.

He drifted off and awoke to blinding sunlight. He was still there. This was not a dream. After letting a few clouds pass his eyes, there was nothing to do but lug himself up and stagger forward. He looked at the direction of the river. He did not know this river but there’ll always be towns near rivers. So he followed it upstream.

When night fell, he was sleeping under trees again to settle his bones. In the mornings, he skimmed the grounds for trail mixes and non-toxic mushrooms and bushes for edible berries, thanks to old Speaker lessons, a blending of Belmont teachings derived from their recorded conversations with Speakers (Belmonts could document, Speakers could not), and a bit of the additional knowledge Sypha gave him.

What was that village again? Alucard was with a village headwoman. Perhaps it should have helped to ask before they had to run off to deal with the matter of the madman and the Rebis.

The river trails did lead him to empty villages, with burial grounds and hollowed huts and cabins. It took some deduction and a map he salvaged along with a black cloak to shield him from the hot sun. He did not stay on the path but kept it in sight as he walked through the secluded trees. If there were highwaymen or that damn “pirate of the road,” he didn’t have the energy to really deal with them. The thrill would be nice though.

From the map, he surmised that Danesti was that nearest village to the castle. He vaguely recalled it being nearly a stop when he set off on the road with Sypha.

When he made it to Danesti, there were lumps of burial grounds and a ravaged fortress. But at least there were a few souls, loading wagons, perhaps moving to leave behind the memory of carnage and some that lingered near the burial grounds on their knees, paying their respects.

Trevor found another useful thing. Or it found him. A sturdy black horse with a white diamond on the forehead that nuzzled him when he entered the scratched open gates. It had a steady saddle and pouches.

No soul around seemed to be interested in it. The horse probably lost its owner. Better not waste a ride. He summoned his strength and threw himself on, the aches rippled through this body, from head to toe, but it was worth it to not move his achy legs even if the road bumps popped waves of back spams.

He so looked forward to a bed, that bed in Dracula’s castle that he stayed in before he went off to adventure with Sypha. He and Sypha slept in different rooms then.

Sypha. He hadn’t talked about it with her. He had seen Belmont women spout curses at their husbands before they would ask God for forgiveness. It was probably a lucky guess the moment Sypha starting screaming curses, but he also noticed she refused her monthly rags and the smell of cooking meat irritated her--“Get that fucking frying pig away from me, Trevor.” It suddenly occurred to his brain that they weren’t as careful on that Lindenfeld bed. Damn it. He always took precautions with any one-night stand he was with. He had no interested in progeny, especially not ones hidden from his knowledge, for this was not a world for new Belmonts. For him and Sypha, an extra mouth to feed was just not in the cards.

But now, it seemed that the possibility was closer. Death was defeated.

He had to know if they would live through it all. Sypha probably knew it already of course, before he did. She would figure that out before it did. It was best if Sypha simply confirmed with him before they could have that conversation, if they could rejoin her caravan (Speakers had childbirth knowledge and ways to expel pregnancies) or lay low at the castle (Alucard ought to have knowledge as well).

Sypha should have been the one to tell him. But he understood if Sypha wanted to murder him for not bringing up.

He had to know they if would finish Targoviste, although god knows fuck what happened now that they had to abandon it. Every time they moved from troubled town to troubled village to follow the next reported human sacrifice, Sypha would mutter, "We cleared out the night creatures and vampires for them, but we have to trust the people now to save themselves the best they can."

If they had time in that castle... But of course, facing the slews of night creatures and then Death, it was his last and only chance to acknowledge his suspicion to her, regretting the conversation they’ll never have. She knew how to take care of herself and other people, so he had to bring peace to her mind to let her know that he knew--suspected--of something growing and existing within her and that he had faith that it would grow into something wonderful.

Now unless God was fucking with him and threw him into limbo, he’ll ought to find her. The Castle was the natural first stop, at least to talk to Alucard. But it had been, what, a few weeks? He surmised that it was enough time that she would be venturing to her caravan.

“Trevor, if you die, I’ll return to my caravan where I would mourn for you, my rude idiot. And I’ll give them every story, our victories and your idiocy.”

"Haha. Also, I'm not going to die."

“If I die, join my caravan. Gain knowledge, exchange it. You don’t have to have the Speaker robes or the mantle. But you won’t be lonely and you’ll be around my family.”

That was the backup plan. She discussed this under the blanket, her cool bare skin against his torso.

“And what if I rather be alone than with Speakers?“

Her answer surprised him. “Go home, to the Belmont Hold. And you can be lonely there then.”

“Are you forgetting who occupies the Hold?“

“Exactly. You two can be alone together.”

She was being generous to make a plan for him. But truth to be told, he would have been happier to wander alone again. At least that's what he told himself. He realized, if Sypha was gone, if her bare flesh wasn't against his right now, if God decided to snatch her from him, he thought about what he would do. She wasn’t wrong. He realized he would have been drawn home to curl up in that tree, and this possibility would also come with seeing Alucard again to break the news.

The spires. The castle.

He could see the spires of the castle now. Alucard that asshole better have that soft bed ready. And with luck, Sypha would be still there or he’ll have to rest to find her.

She probably left.

As he rode closer to the castle, Trevor could hear people, wagons, horses clopping, and the sawing of wood and clinking of hammers. How long has it been again? Perhaps the refugees were still here, practicing caution in case the demons came back for their village.

Feet scurried close. He was quite ready to fall now. Quite ready to let the Earth be his mattress. The horse came to a halt. He could let the generosity of humans do the rest from here.

The aches yanked him down, two gentle hands graced his back, softening the blow. He squinted as the hood fell and the sunlight poured. He recognized the feel of those small hands as one feels when putting on old clothes.

It was just his luck. There were her big blue eyes, and he was more lost in those seas than he ever was in what his aunt called the “countless levels into Hell.”

“Hello Love.”

Next up: Sypha’s angst during those two weeks.

--> PART 2

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#castlevania #trepha #sypha belnades #trevor belmont #fanfiction #alucard #hints of trephacard later

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eldritch-fr-ideas · 3 years

Note

Let us say you have had the misfortune to stumble across this forest. The sun was high in the sky, when you first entered, marveling at the trees, at the lush greenery.

Flowers sway back and forth to the wind's whim. Dew collects on the underside of cold leaves, which do not give when you touch them as leaves ought to.

Honeycomb crystals dot rotting, termite-ridden beehives like mockeries of what once was, and the streams sweep along skeletal remnants of fish in jagged waves that stab against dirt shores. Perhaps there is danger here, seen. Danger in the whorls of wood, in runes etched in tree stumps, reading that this is not a place of honor, perhaps you recognize it in bushes filled with ivory thorns shaped like dragon teeth, in a bright red fruit of the tree which beckons you to have a taste,

But when the skin is peeled away you can see it hides the flesh of Persephone. Twigs along the path do not snap but bend, they squelch under a claw, and inside there is a glowing algae which is bright, swirling yellow and green.

Best not to touch. Perhaps, say, you saw it, this danger to the body, this sickness, but now you could not leave. The forest has swallowed up the path you came here through. There is no exit save for the ones the keepers of this forest may, perhaps, deign to guide you to. If you are smart and if you are clever and if something in this place which is best shunned and left uninhabited deigns to take pity on you, You may leave alive. There is kindness here, you see. A resident will guide you out, should you win their favor. But you must work quick, to find a keeper, must play your cards fast, Quicker than the beat of the song from the lyre, Quicker than the falling star, Quicker than every tattler's songbird, Quicker than the moonbeam striking the knight's child across an oilslick wing. Quicker than the sun can travel across Sornieth. And you are not quick enough, the sun dips, drips, dips you in this dance of risk and reward into darkness, with the hissing insects that spin melodies before choking, crunching under faerie jaws and beaks. You are late, and a damp feather brushes your face, down your back and tail like starshine, leaving traces of blood behind like an omen. It is pitch black, now, the trees curving above you, for this is a forest and its trees live and bleed and scream and see. Don't touch the rocks, anymore. Under the surface of slate there are eyes. The pupils are softly glowing under the stone, can you see them? They can see you, their pupils are large and black. A dragon used to control them, but that dragon is dead now. The stones ate him, you see, for even the residents are not wholly safe. There is chittering. A lizard, blind in this pitch-dark just as you are, for they say some lizards were made by the same hand as the dragons, runs across stony eyelids and snatches something gently flapping out of the dark, brings it into the glow of the pupil.

It is a moth, a dark green color, colored almost like a butterfly, but not quite, and something crunches, screeches, screams with a voice that is worn raw with screaming as the eyeless lizard brings the moth close and bites. Blood spatters against the living stone, and the pupils within all focus upon the blind lizard.

The pupils stop glowing, and the world is plunged into pitch dark again as something moves, metal screeching and dirt rending under something with too many eyes.

The moth stops screaming. The lizard has no voice of which to scream, although its ribcage is coated in melted copper. This would be frightening, and in this hostile dark, light smothered by weeping willows, fear brought out as the forest's lesser inhabitants and components feast upon each other, it is so very possible to trip, step, be spun by the forest into a mushroom circle. The fae's circle. Cael's circle.

Hello there. "Who are you?" That's neither here nor there, young one. These woods are dangerous, especially at night. I can get you out, for the right price.

-----

hi its prophet anon, back again with some faerie horror!

this one is lore for this guy, who runs a funky little forest full of faerie horrors, or something! i don't know! most of the lore for him and his forest was written months ago and sucks but i rewrote some today and im feeling good about it

point being, hell yeah. the forest is ~cursed~ and is not a place of honor, but a danger best left shunned. it is laced through with sickened, crystalized music and Names and circles, it is the nature realm abandoned and left free to mutate until it circles back around into plague's grotesquery. it is trees given golden, bleeding flesh and birds given draconic speech and moonbeams given conscience and rivers given bones!

(its somewhere in the pox consulate, if we want to get canon. this is why no one goes there! its beautiful and wonderful and all of the plants have bones (and teeth sometimes) and the gods have shunned this place of failure so...something else, lets say, has stepped in)

The fae are always so... Fascinating. Many forget the true origins of the good neighbors, how they are not so friendly as the modern media presents.

((Mod: oh I love me some fairy horror! So much potential in fairy folklore!))

#fr short horror #fae folk #faery folk #offerings for cthgooloo #not an idea #answered

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forasecondtherewedwon · 3 years

Text

Mailbox Blues

Fandom: WandaVision Rating: G Word Count: 1046

Summary: It really bothers Wanda that she hasn't met the mailman.

Wanda twiddled her fingers, zipping the curtains shut as she pulled the door closed. Sure, it was a nice neighbourhood, safe, where the lady next door would only enter without knocking to bring you a lobster when you were stumped on what to serve your husband’s boss for dinner, but you couldn’t be too careful. One of these times, it might really be hooligans and not a silly old tree branch. She proceeded down the path and made another motion behind her back, locking the front door. Shoot. Wanda wondered if anyone ever noticed she didn’t carry keys.

Agnes still had her elbow propped on the post and was staring to her left with quite a degree of focus. Wanda’s prepared smile fritzed, her lip twitching in panic. Had the object she’d had to abandon in the hedge caught her neighbour’s eye? She’d hardly had time to consider it; with its glossy surface, long blades, and heavy diecast body, it had seemed too sophisticated to possibly be a toy dropped by one of the local children. Besides, it was too unusual and well-made (and that meant expensive) for Wanda to imagine it’d been casually forgotten. And then there was that strange symbol painted on its side…

If Agnes were to find the helicopter, she’d have questions, questions Wanda didn’t have answers to, nor should she have to—the thing wasn’t hers!—but it was in her hedge and, gosh, she knew Agnes already thought she was strange. She’d play a trick, that was what she would do. When her neighbour glanced from the object to her, Wanda would perform a discrete little transformation, changing the discovery into a tin model airplane, or some kind of kitchen implement! There were all sorts of fancy hand mixers around these days, electric ones too! She’d pretend it had fallen out of a box when she and Vision had moved in. Yes, perfect.

Wanda forced the smile back onto her face, stretching it until she was positively beaming, but Agnes wasn’t paying her any mind. Well, better to introduce the topic herself. That was the responsible thing to do.

“Why, Agnes, what’s captured your attention?” she asked.

Agnes turned to her with an, “Oh!”

“Didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Not at all. I was just, well, Dennis really isn’t very good-looking, is he?”

Her nose was already scrunched in pre-emptive disdain and Wanda felt her expression copying Agnes’s.

While she grimaced, she inquired, “Who’s Dennis?”

Agnes laughed, face relaxing, and Wanda joined her with a fainter, breathier laugh, hoping the name wasn’t an important one she’d forgotten. Was Dennis the name of Agnes’s husband? No, that was something else. Raymond or Roger or something.

“The mailman.”

“I haven’t really noticed whether he’s good-looking or not,” Wanda confessed.

Her neighbour’s eyes darted away in apparent discomfort.

“No, neither have I, of course not,” Agnes said quickly. “But I guess you haven’t met Dennis yet? How funny. Well, it’ll happen the more you get out and about in the neighbourhood, especially with me!”

“Yes, I’m sure you’re right.”

Wanda allowed Agnes to sociably sling her arm through her own, beginning to prep her on what to expect from Dottie and the other ladies they’d be meeting. While Wanda’s mouth smiled and her head nodded, charming and obedient as a baby doll, her mind lagged behind the conversation.

Dennis the mailman had been by. Agnes knew him well enough to have a history of considering how attractive she found him (she was terrible at hiding it, but Wanda would never mention such a thing to… Ralph! That was the name), but Wanda couldn’t recall ever seeing him. Well, that made sense, she supposed, because she wasn’t the one who collected the mail from the mailbox! Vision did that, of course. Only, she couldn’t picture him coming in from work carrying anything but his briefcase. He retrieved the paper in the morning, but that was left right on the front step.

Puzzled, Wanda glanced back over her shoulder, pretending to be flipping hair out of her face as Agnes nattered on, and scrutinized the mailbox. The flag wasn’t up. That was a little odd. It did explain why neither she nor her husband had brought in the mail—there wasn’t any to be brought in! Someone would write soon though, a relative or a friend from their old neighbourhood. Wanda frowned because she didn’t remember writing down their new address for anyone. She must have! She and Vision had so many friends who would want to stay in touch! Though she couldn’t summon even one name to mind…

“Agnes? I’m so sorry to interrupt,” Wanda said, smiling wide. “You seem to know everyone so well, their habits, their hobbies, where everyone… fits in. I was just wondering how long you’d lived in this subdivision?”

“Since it was built!” Agnes gushed proudly. “Ralph’s brother’s friend or somebody is in construction, so we got a tip that the city was planning a development out this way. Free of downtown’s awful congestion, large yards, brand-new schools and supermarkets. We bought our house when the yard was just an empty square of dirt!”

Wanda laughed along with her.

“Have you heard about any issues with service delivery?”

“Oh no, what’s acting up?” Agnes demanded, pulling her to a halt on the sidewalk. “The electrical? The pipes? Ralph’s useless with repairs, god love him, but I know a crackerjack handyman.”

“Actually, we haven’t been getting mail.”

“Huh. Was there any kind of delay with the paperwork when you bought the house?”

Blinking innocently, Wanda thought back to the moment she and Vision had been inaugurated as first-time homeowners; it had been a waggle of her fingers at the ‘For Sale’ sign planted in the front yard.

“Nope,” she told Agnes. “No delay there.”

“Just give it another week and have faith in the postal service. In the meantime, I’d give anyone you’re waiting on a letter from a ring. Easy.”

Cheerfully, she tugged Wanda toward Lottie’s house, saying something about the rose bushes.

“Easy,” Wanda quietly agreed, with no recollection of unpacking an address book or memorizing phone numbers or, like with the mail, knowing the name of a single person whose voice she should be excited to hear.

#my writing #wandavision #wanda maximoff #Agnes (WandaVision)#WandaVision fanfiction

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writinginthedarkwood · 5 years

Text

Kitsune Todoroki: A Mischievous Encounter

Your village is starving, you make the journey to the abandoned shrine to plead with the god that may or may not be there...

~Some supernatural smut for ya (also kind of fluffy? idk)~

Kinks for Kinktober! - Master/ Slave

Shoto Todoroki x Reader Halloween special!

My feet are exhausted, I’ve been walking for too long today. A day’s journey seemed like such an easy task before I actually started the path through this over grown wood. I sighed and tightened my boots, the sole has been wearing thin for months now, but they’re holding up okay. I took a sip from my leather pouch, the tangy flavor of the leather tainted the fresh water, but I couldn’t restrain myself and gulped it down anyway. The tree’s are blowing gently, the sun is shining threw the tree’s and hitting the banks of the river, reflecting off of the exposed stones of the low water. “The drought is effecting the forest all this way west too...” I mumbled into my pouch before taking one last sip.

Something loud moved through the bush behind me, I snapped around and stared at the foliage line. Was something hunting me this whole time? I don’t have a blade to protect me, the biggest predators on this side of the mountain are supposed to be the foxes. My heart pounded in my chest, but nothing appeared. The sound was gone before I fully turned around. I guess I should keep moving, no use sitting around waiting to lose sunlight. I brushed some dirt off of my pants, brother won’t miss these, and besides how would I make this journey in anything else? My family is one of the richest in town, to be caught in these clothes would be embarrassing for my grandparents.

The sun started to die down, it’s that time of day right before sunset. The sky is turning golden, soon it will turn pink and then all of the light will disappear. Panic set in my chest, I took a deep breath. I need to keep my head, I should have reached the shrine an hour ago. The plan was to find the shrine, make the offering, sleep until early morning and head home. “This was so stupid...” I started to curse myself. What made me think I could actually make a difference? I tried everything to help, even learning how to work the fields much to my families disapproval. People are hungry, tired. Live stock are dropping like flies. Even the inn keepers cat got sick and died this week, the gods have forgotten about us.

Tears gathered in my eyes. I swept one off of my cheek, I feel helpless. I walked for what felt like another hour, but judging by the sun its only been a few more minutes. Something peered through the tree’s just up ahead. Is that it? I pulled back a low hanging tree branch and stepped into a clearing. An old, older than anything in our village, building sat run down and falling apart. It was made of crumbling stone. The sloped roof was falling to the ground, the whole place barely standing. I carefully stepped through the doorway, there it was. The shrine! Compared to the building, this fountain looked untouched. It was smooth, made of a stone I didn’t recognize. It might have once flowed with water, the smooth stone was bone dry. A little bonzai tree sat on a pedestal, its roots grew out of its pot, the clay container close to bursting. It was overgrown, but healthy. Is someone taking care of this place? I looked around. Cobwebs and rotting wood indicated nobody had been here for a long time, the tree sat happily here, all alone. I pulled out the tiny statue from your napsack. My families most precious heirloom. A porcelain statue of a bowing dog, my families symbol. My grandmother will be devastated that its gone, but it will be worth it. I laid the statue down in front of the fountain and closed my eyes. I bowed down and took a deep breath. Please, please help my village. I pleaded silently, the sound of trickling water made me pry my head up off of the floor. It’s much brighter in here now, the floor is less cold. The fountain was running, gently, a stream flowed out of the bonzai’s pedestal. I gasped is a god listening? I shut my eyes tight and clasped my hands in front of me. “I’ll do anything to save our home, I’m pleading to anyone that’s listening!”

“Deal.” A low, calm voice answered me from behind. I screamed and twisted myself around and fell on my backside. The shrine was lovely now, the walls fixed, the roof hanging in place where it should be. Lanterns hung on the wall, burning with a low red flame. A young man was relaxing at a kotatsu, he wore a white robe, red flowers danced on one side, the other had blue split down the middle. He was lovely, his hair was also split down the middle, red on one side, white on the other. His face is flawless, an angular jaw, clear skin. You noticed a deep scar over his right eye, but it didn’t take away from his impossible beauty. He took a sip of tea, he wasn’t looking up at you. “Who... who are you?” I gathered myself and relaxed on my knee’s, trying to mask how scared I am. How did everything change?

“I should be asking you that question.” He set his cup down and poured himself another drink. “You are the one barging into my home uninvited.” He said plainly. He pointed to the spot beside him at his blanketed table. “Please, have a seat.” I obeyed, standing up and joining him at his tea table. My hands shook slightly as he handed me a cup. It was freezing cold, the tea was barely steeping. The glass had frost along the rim. “Oh, uhm, thank you.” I set the cup down. “My name is “Y/N, of the Y/L/N family. I live in the village at the base of this mountain.” He took a long sip of his tea and then set it down. “This tea is terrible.” He exclaimed, setting the cup down sort of hard. I’m not quite sure how to respond. “Oh no its deliciou-” I grabbed my own cup and took a sip. I swallowed hard and tried to mask my look of disgust. This tea is awful, I’ve never tasted anything so rancid. Besides the fact that its freezing cold. He sighed and shook his head. “Well, hopefully you can make a better cup than I.” You noticed as he bowed his head down slightly, he had two pointed ears atop his head. They were the same color as his hair. His eyes are heterochromic, he peered into yours curiously. “Can you make a decent cup of tea?” He asked.

“My mother and father never complain when I make them a cup. I’ve been known to do well in the kitchen.” I held my hands in my lap, his stare is piercing. A small smile turned the corners of his mouth upward, his teeth were pointed behind his beautiful mouth. “Oh wonderful, you’ll make a perfect servant.” Suddenly fear coursed through every bone in my body, I fell back on my wrist and placed another over my mouth, muffling a scream. He leaned forward, his smile fading. “Where are you going?” He reached for my ankle to pull me back to the table. I pulled myself away, trying to stand up and flee. He moved quicker than me, grabbing my leg and pulling me to him. He hovered over me, his hair falling in his face as he studied mine. “Are you alright, you look a little pale.” One of his ears twitched, and he blinked quickly a few times. “You’re not a human.” I spilled out, my voice shaking. “Ah, I guess that could be intimidating for some. Don’t worry Y/N. You’ll get used to it.” His face stayed serious, but his tone was light. He moved himself off of me and helped me sit up. “My name is Shoto. You may address me as Master.” He thought for a moment. “Or Shoto.” I couldn’t help but crack a smile. He seemed regal, like a prince, but very down to earth at the same time. “I apologize, I’ve never had a servant before.”

I thought for a moment. Putting pieces together that I haven’t quite grasped from our conversation so far. “Wait, I’m not your servant.” I said as light hearted as possible, not wanting to make him upset. He cocked his head at me puzzled. “Did you not just say that you would do anything to save your home, for anyone that was listening?”

I nodded my head yes, not liking where this is going. “Well I was listening. I took you on that deal.” He paused for a moment. “It should be raining now, nothing too harsh.” I stood up and opened the screen door, it was drizzling. The sound of the water hitting the roof with little ‘pings’ was music to my ears. “You did this?” I asked, sticking my hand out to gather some of the drops. It was real, it was really raining after months of harsh sun. “Yes, I can call on rains in times of joy.” He stood up and joined me in the doorway, he’s so much taller than I could tell before. His body is strong, his chest slightly exposed from his robe. “It’s been so long sense I’ve had a visitor. It’s not like I could just let you slip away.” He put a hand on my shoulder, his fingers freezing cold. “Such a lovely face, we’ll have to put you in more fitting attire.” He played with the strings on my tunic. “I can’t be your servant.” I said looking outside and not at him. “My family doesn’t know where I am, I left without telling them.”

“Ah, I understand.” He said sweetly. He snapped his fingers and the rain stopped, the moon shone through the dissipating storm clouds. “Wait! That wasn’t enough rain.”

“I’ve named my price. Your village will prosper, healthy children will be born. Rains will fall, crops will grow. Your village will be taken care of for generations if you just...” He cupped my face with both of his hands so that I was looking him in the eyes. “Stay with me, please.” His voice was so deep and raspy, my heart fluttered. “What kind of responsibilities will I have?” I felt hypnotized by his beautiful eyes, so old and wise. “You’re to take care of all of the shrines needs.” He spoke softer. “Along with all of my needs as well.” He closed any space between us. His chest pressed gently on mine, his right hand traveled to the back of my neck and held me there, the other still resting on my cheek. “I can train you to be my shrine maiden, my mystical woman of the wood.” His breath tickled your face, he spoke so closely to your mouth. “If you just stay here with me... forever.” I closed my eyes, my eyelids heavy and drunk with his seductive words. He spoke warm honey into my ears, I drank him in. “I’ll... I’ll do it.... Master...” I sighed into his kiss. He placed his lips onto mine gently, pressing down and sliding around my mouth. I kissed him back, hungry for more. He hesitated, he started reaching for my tunic, tempted to pull it off of me. He resisted and pulled away, out of breath he staggered further back into the shrine. “I deeply apologize.” He straightened himself out and I stepped away from the door frame and shut it behind me. “I don’t want to hurt you, I just haven’t ever seen anyone so-” He took a deep breath, calming his voice. “So beautiful.” My face burned. “Any other spirit will be feverishly jealous of me, I’ll do everything I can to protect you from any unwanted advances.” He bowed his head slightly, sealing his promise. “You don’t have to be sorry Master Shoto.” I feel lightly embarrassed, losing control of myself and my urges. “I didn’t mind...” I gulped, trying not to seem any less lady like than I already appeared. He put his hand behind his neck and let out a breathy chuckle. “Oh, that makes me feel less monstrous. I try not to be like some of the other more... animalistic creatures of these forests.”

I played with my thumb nail, tempted to picking it off. “What kind of things live out here Master Shoto?” I asked, my curiosity killing me. He’s unlike anything I have ever seen, could other people like him really be out here? “Lot’s of spirits, some a little less wicked than others. We get together for festivities quite a bit... hopefully you’re a good hostess.” My heart pounded at the thought of more spirits coming here. “They’ll be coming here...?” He sat back down with the tea and I joined him. “Of course, this is a regular hot spot for all manners of spirits. tengu, Oni. Other kitsune.” He put a hand on my lap and rubbed my knuckles. “I wonder how they’ll react when they smell you...” He trailed off in thought for a moment. “What do you mean?” Do I smell bad? I take special attention to my hygiene, I suppose I have been hiking all day. “Well your scent is very intoxicating. I’ve never smelled a human so alluring.” My cheeks flushed again, he compliments so sincerely. “Will they try and hurt me?”

He took no time to think about that. “Oh most definitely, most of the lot takes no consideration for their primal urges.” He said bluntly. “Your scent combined with your raw beauty, I’ll have to beat them off with a broom.” I let out a light squeak, my heart sinking into my stomach. “What should I do to make myself less... desirable?” I never thought I was particularly prettier than any of the other women in the village, just from different status. I’m not callused from hard work, wrinkled from sunshine or bloated from bad food. My mother always calls me beautiful... and my parents had many suitors in line for my marriage. I look in the mirror often, and sometimes I feel insecure.

“There’s nothing you can do, especially sense you’ve never been taken by a man.” He spoke matter of factually. I blushed wildly, completely flustered. “What would you know about that!” I raised my voice and the fox spirit chuckled. “No need to get embarrassed, I can smell it on you.” He leaned toward me and took a deep breath through his nose. He placed a hand on the floor beside me, I leaned back on my hands as he invaded my personal space. He placed his nose along just below my jaw line and took another deep breath. “I missed the only logical solution to all of our troubles.” He purred, his voice right in my ear. “I’ll just make you smell like me, so that no lusty tengu will try and touch you...” I froze, his entire demeanor changed. His breath grew heavier, he touched my side and used his legs to pry mine open and place himself between my hips. I tried to speak, but my voice came out shaky. “I- I thought that you didn’t want to succumb to your primal... uhm, urges.” He laid me down on my back and pressed his hips firmly onto mine. “Oh don’t worry darling, I’ve thought this over very thoroughly.” He placed soft kisses on my neck, one after the other. His lips just barely touching my skin. “This isn’t just for me... for my needs.” He crooned in my ear. I let out a small moan and clamped a hand over my mouth, horrified. I’ve never made a sound like that before. He pulled my hand off of my mouth and pinned it about my head. He traced his finger tips down my arm and gripped my other hand, forcing both of my wrists into one of his strong hands. “I need to keep my sweet servant girl safe.” He used his free hand to hold himself up off of the floor. He stared down at me, his face held some type of sincere innocence, like taking advantage of me isn’t his intention. “I’ll just mark you as mine.” He pulled my cloth pants down and my breath caught in my throat. His eyes rolled partly back into his head, he looked overwhelmed by me. He let go of my hands and fell on his elbow, smashing his lips onto mine. His hands ran over my body, he ripped my tunic over my head and threw it away from us. Looking down at me with a crazed look in his eye. “How are you this magnificent?” He pulled at the tie around his robe. He exposed himself, his body incredibly toned and hard. I reached out and ran a finger over his abs. I blushed, but I couldn’t look away. “You’ve never seen a man in this state.” He grinned. “What do you think?” He was kneeling, but he was still looming so tall over me. “What do you mean?” I stammered out, partially breathless. “Tell me how much you enjoy looking at my body.” He oozed with confidence now. “My slave.” His sharp teeth flashed, enjoying every moment of this. “I like looking at your body-” He gripped my chin and forced me to look in his eyes. “Say it again.” He spoke almost in a whisper. “I love looking at your body Master Shoto.” I tried to drip my words with as much sweetness as possible. Shoto reacted, pleased with me. He let go of my chin and touched me on the outside of my heat. He swirled his finger around, I whimpered pathetically. My slit grew wetter, I tried to cover my face in embarrassment again. “Stop that, I want to see every look on your face as I claim you.” He took his finger away and put it in his mouth, tasting me. “Tell me what you want Y/N.” I stuttered, not answering him fast enough. He placed two fingers on the most sensitive part of my body. He pressed down on my clit and rubbed up and down, his fingers grew colder. I gasped, his touch so drastic compared to my warmth. My stomach felt nauseous, I craved something. Anything other than this torture. “Master Shoto, I want-” I gasped again, he gathered some of my moisture on the tips of his finger to lubricate his touch. He rubbed even slower, letting the temperature gradient do most of the work. “Tell me what you want or I’ll stop.” It was an empty threat, his want was worse than mine, his member dripping in anticipation. “I want you to claim me Master!” I pleaded gripping onto my own hair and squirming underneath him. “As you wish, Y/N.”

I cried out, his staff’s tip punctured through my innocence. He pressed himself close to me, he held my face close to his, keeping his lips on my cheek for comfort. He moved his hips slowly, gently working his way in through my resistant walls. “You need to breathe Y/N. If you relax it will hurt less...” He whispered so sweetly in my ear. I took a shaky deep breath. “Just like that darling, I can feel you getting wetter...” He moved more of himself in, his whole length filling my entire body. I moaned, every second he’s in me gets better and better. “What a good girl, getting so wet for her master.” He gripped onto my hair at the base of my neck and thrusted in me harder, starting to get an even pace. He couldn’t help himself, groaning in my ear, repeating how much of a good girl I am. My body started to heat up even further, the pressure in my core building up to an unbearable point. “Master... I-” I screamed out, my mouth releasing a lewd sound. This made Shoto smile and chuckle. “You finished on me-” He groaned softly in my ear. “I’m flattered.” My body is shaking, my breath falling out of me in whiny gasps. “Want me to make you do it again?” He said mischievously, his tone almost feeling like he was mocking me. Teasing me for being so inexperienced, or for needing more like a greedy beggar. “Yes master.” I said through chattering teeth. “Beg me...” He kissed my jaw right under my ear. He slowed down, holding his cock in my body completely still. I squirmed, my hips rocking. He gripped my pelvis and pinned me down, forcing me to hold still. “If I sit here still long enough I’ll eventually climax...” He grinned wolfishly, I could feel him twitch. “I want more Master...” I whined like a child begging for more dessert. “Be specific.” He was toying with me, his eyes glazed with pleasure. “I want to feel like that again, please do it again Master Shoto.” I couldn’t care how unlady like it might sound to beg. He pulled himself mostly out, and slammed back into me hard. The sound of our bodies mashing together was almost as loud as my moans. He pounded into me, his hips flailing wildly. I scraped my nails down his back and hid my face on his shoulder. His neck bringing me comfort as I felt my bodies tension build back up again. He effortlessly kept his pace, barely seeming winded. I hadn’t noticed how long it was before he finally came close to his own release. My voice grew hoarse, crying out over and over again every time he brought me to the edge and let me go. My entrance is getting sore, I’m still slick but I’m using muscles I’m not used too. “Can you take anymore of me slave?” Sweat had started to pool on his forehead, just the slightest hint of his stamina dying down. “Y-yes” I said slightly unsure. I can hardly move, my head flat on the floor and my mouth dripping with drool. My clit throbbed, my thigh muscles ached. Tears had been running from my eyes for a bit now, my climax bringing the salty streams out to run down my face. “I think you’re lying my darling...” His voice was shaky, he kissed my forehead and I buried my face in his chest. “I’ve about given you everything I have.” He slammed his hips into me one more time and let out a heavy sigh. He pulsed in my body, he let his weight go onto me. Pressing us flat onto the floor. He held me like that for a moment before pulling out. I closed my shaking legs and my groin muscles thanked me. Being stuck in that position for so long caused my whole body to cramp. “You’re such a good girl, you took me for hours.” He helped sit me up. “Was it really that long?” I leaned onto his shoulder and he rubbed my back. “Time moves a little strange here, but yes its been awhile.” He played with my hair and traced along my spine. I started to doze off in his arms. “Don’t worry I’ll train you to last even longer.” He said sweetly. I couldn’t even respond. “Sleep now love, tomorrow you’ll have to learn all of the shrines duties.” He chuckled at my groan of protest. “Goodnight Y/N...” He talked into my hair. “My darling...”

HEY YOU READING! Hi you should follow me if you liked this story! I’m planning on building other characters in the same world and possibly even doing a part 2 for this one? I think Kaminari Denki is going to be a Tengu... it should be shocking~ (I’ll see myself out for that stupid pun)

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kota-bee · 3 years

Text

moony

a/n: hey look a new series because i got overhwhelmed by in the dark. this will be a self indulgent story so its ok if you dont like it. im trying a new writing style so let me know if its any good. this isnt really edited so read at your own risk. shout out to anyone who can figure out which part of this chapter i inserted after it was done.

chapter 1/? word count: 1628

warnings: none i think. a weeny bit of blood.

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towering trees and bright flowers are all i can see for miles, it was the most beautiful thing ever. mother held my hand, swinging it as we walked along the dimly lit dirt path. "happy birthday my love! how does it feel to be 6 hm?" mothers words are soft and full of love as she looks down at me fondly. "not much differnt, i think im taller maybe?" i screw my face up trying to think if i felt taller or not, i *felt* taller. mother laughed heartly as she looked around us. "youre almost past my hip now! youve definitely gotten taller." mother cooed still looking happily at me. i smiled, i *am* almost past her hip now! i swung her hand even more as we contiuned on our walk. "dad doesnt like to go on these walks does he?" i questioned, looking up at mother. "he doesnt like to get his fancy shoes dirty, Alexander has always been that way" she reasured me softly. the bush in front of us rustled, mother excitedly pulled me down to crouch so we didnt scare the critter moving towards us. i wiggled excitedly, hoping it would be a bunny. "stay still. maybe its a deer" mother whispers into my ear. the rustling get louder before a dirty tired looking man stumbles out. mother pulled me up harshly and hid me behind her. i tried to peek out at the man but she shoved me behind her again. i suddenly remebered what day it was, the full moon. i clutched to mothers shirt as she put a hand on my shoulder.

"can i help you sir? you look ill" mothers voice is shakey but firm. "now that you ask... i do need help"

im on my back on the floor, its uncomfortable and bumpy. my hands are wet and warm, it feels gross and sticky.i raise my hands to my face, theyre red? i turn my head to see if mother knows whats happening and... the man is on top of her, his teeth digging into her neck. shes screaming, crying, "m-mom?"

"mom?" i whisper but im not in that forest anymore, im on my bed in my room. i look around my room, at the posters and drawings on my wall that i made myself, at my trunk and bag near my door. it takes me a second to register the knocking at my door. "andi we need to go" a sandy haired man says softly as he pushes through my door. its just remus, im safe. i push myself up to sit on the edge of my bed and run my hand through my messy curls. "are you alright sweetheart?" remus- dad, asks me softly. "nightmare" i mumbled sleepily. he sighs and sits down next to me. he rubs circles against my back. "its always worse after the full moon, give yourself some patient love" dad said softly, he knew i wouldnt actually give myself time to bounce back. it was frustrating to admit i needed time to heal, i didnt like admitting i was differnt. dad sighed and kissed my forehead gently "get dressed, you can eat at the weasleys, molly will have plenty of food for you"

i pull my t-shirt and worn jeans on and try desperatley to make my hair less of a mess. i dragged my trunk downstairs towards dad who was waiting patiently at the door. "ready? molly will have some ointments for you when you get there."

"i double checked this time" i chuckle, more than once ive forgotten something important, my school supplies werent exactly cheap so that wasnt exaclty ideal. dad chuckled and looped his arm through mine and, with a loud pop, we landed at the burrow. my second home! i live here as often as i do at dads house. it was the most brilliant house ive ever been too.

the door flew open and two lanky twins came flying towards me. fred and george collided with me, hugging me tightly. i giggled squeezing them tightly. Remus put his hand on my shoulder “I’ll see you at the train station, be safe” and with a pop he was gone.

“He never comes inside” a sweet voice came from the doorway. A plump woman was looking fondly at the three teens. She opened her arms wide, beckoning me forward. i smiled and wrapped my arms around molly. “Hello dear” she cooed into my hair. Molly pulled back and looked me over, cupping my face and turned it side to side, examining the new cuts and bruises i donned. She hummed

“Ginny! Ron! Come here!” Molly shouted as she pulled me inside, the twins following.

“She’s going to coddle you” Fred whispered into my ear with a little chuckle. i rolled my eyes as i followed molly into the kitchen where Ron and Ginny had just rushed in.

“Andi!” Ginny bounded towards me wrapping her arms around me and hugged me like it had been years since the last time she had seen me. Ginny had always looked up to me like an older sister ever since she could speak. i hoisted Ginny up and into my arms spinning her around. god i loved the weasleys, every one of them, including percy.

“I’m a little offended you didn’t do that for us” George huffed feigning hurt.

“Yeah come on andi, I thought we were your favourite” Fred added, mimicking his twin.

“Now when did I say that boys” i teased as i plopped Ginny back on the floor. The twins rolled their eyes before throwing their arms over my shoulders. the twins did this to me so often, we were always joined at the hip in some way.

“I dunno I just have a sneaking suspicion that you like us” the boys said in unison. i snickered and gave Ron a happy “hello”

“Now now boys don’t be too rough on her” molly scolded shooing the twins off of me. i sighed, Molly always had a tendency to treat me like i was fragile. “Oh come on mum it’s not like we’re throwing her around” Fred whined. “We could if you wanted” George whispered. The trio had learned early on that the best way to annoy the younger groups was to mock flirt with each other. After awhile it became an inside joke that the three found hilarious. Much to everyone’s dismay.

“Come on andi let me clean you up” Molly’s words are sweet but insistent. i know better than to argue with molly over this stuff. Molly is a excellent healer and it would be stupid to deny her help. i looked over at the twins who are grinning ear to ear, they did warn me i suppose. i rolled my eyes once more before following molly to the living room. i sit down on the sofa the twins and i often crowd. It was far too small for three lanky teens. Molly began rustling in a little bag near a bookshelf. She was humming a song and shaking to a tune only she could hear. Ah ha! Molly exclaimed as she pulled out a little jar full of white paste.

“This will help it heal a little faster, it won’t keep it from scarring unfortunately” molly starts excitedly before mumbling off the last part. i knew this, magic was wonderful but it couldn’t prevent scarring in most situations. i had more scars than i cared to count. Molly cupped my face as she smeared the paste over my wounds, i winced slightly. no matter if it had numbing ingriedents or not, this part always hurt

“I know it hurts, just breathe” molly humed. “Do you have anymore?” Molly questions looking me over. “You know the answer to that question” i chuckled dryly as i stood pulling my shirt up with me. Revealing a bandage stretching across my stomach.

Molly sighed, she hated seeing her kids hurt, not that Andi was her kid but it certainly felt like it. Molly peeled the bandage off slowly trying desperately to keep it from hurting too much.

i shuddered biting back tears as i felt the bandage pull healed skin with it.

The twins were watching from the doorway as molly tended to Andi. They knew what Andi looked like after full moons but they never got used to the gashes and bruises she dawned afterwards. Fred turned away, he felt sick to his stomach, he loved Andi, he wished he could take this from her. She didn’t deserve it.

Molly patched andi's stomach up once more and pulled her shirt down over it.

“Put this on your face twice a day and I’ll help you with your back until you go to school then then ask one of your friends to help” molly instructed waving her finger at me to enunciate her words.

“Yes ma’am” i mock soluted, i knew how much that annoyed her. i turned towards the door way and gave George a lopsided grin and peeked past him at Fred who was leaning against a counter.

“Want to show me what your letters talked about?” i said my tone dripping with mischief. The twins faces lit up as they grabbed my hands and dragged me up the stairs, giggling like kids the whole way to their room.

“What are you three planning??” Molly shouted up the stairs. She knew those three were troublemakers at heart. They had been since they met when they were 7. Remus needed help with Andi after a rough full moon and the rest is history. The three of them managed to turn rons teddy bear into a spider once.

#harry potter headcanon #harry potter fandom #harry potter stories #the weasly twins #the weasleys #harry potter #fan fiction #harry potter fanfiction #fypage

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imnotwolverine · 4 years

Text

The girl next door - Deep roots

The Girl Next Door - Chapter 1 DEEP ROOTS

| Chap 2 >

Summary: Henry is stuck in the countryside as COVID-19 wreaks havoc in the world, leaving him with little else left to do but getting to know his spunky next door neighbour, Lizz.

Word count: 1.639

Warnings: strong language, hint of fluff

(Link to my Masterlist)

It was a particularly nice spring day in the countryside, the sky a spotless deep blue as the scent of blooming grasses and flowers permeated the morning air. Henry stepped out through the squeaky gate of his rental home and tilted his head back, stretching out his slightly sleepy body while his akita Kal flew through the gate. Henry smiled, seeing his dog happily zipping through the tall grass next to the narrow dust road and he stuck his hands in his pockets as he started to walk.

It had been a weird couple of months. The COVID-19 virus had meant the immediate stop of all his plans. His work. His holidays. His visits to friends and family. And so, for the first time in years, Henry had all the time in the world to just…be! And mind you, he actually kind of enjoyed it, his once busy jet set lifestyle now very average. Dare he say, normal even.

Like every morning he walked down the path, throwing the same stick as Kal raced past, catching it. And like everyday he waved at Mrs. Gatter, who lured at him through her blinds, her wrinkly fingers quickly shooting back to tending her plants, acting as if she didn’t even notice Henry. Henry suppressed a smile as his eyes wandered further down the road, Kal but a blur of black and white in the corner of his eye.

Yes, he wouldn’t like to admit it. But normal life WAS quite enjoyable.

Kal disappeared for a moment and Henry looked up, following the direction the big Akita had wandered off to. Ah. Also like everyday. The abandoned house, its garden wild and unkempt. Kal’s favourite place to roam around in.

At first Henry had been apprehensive of entering the garden. It was in the end someone’s garden, right? But alas. The weeks became months. And nothing stirred. The garden remained wild and it was safe to say the house had been abandoned and forgotten. And so, Henry had given in to the curiosity of his fur baby and allowed the two of them to roam around for a bit. Something that had became a bit of a daily habit.

Like everyday, Kal jumped with great ease over the small stone wall, his big paws having made a raw spot in between the lush grass where he landed. Henry also stepped over the wall and smirked as Kal halted his zooming to look at a bird that quickly scurried off. A blackbird.

Henry followed Kal as he drifted deeper into the garden, the jungle-like greenery looping around the side of the house, by now almost swallowing half the bottom floor.

‘YOU FUCKIN’ …ARGHHH.’

A female voice set Henry dead in his tracks. Oh shit. There was somebody there. Did she see him? His eyes quickly looked for Kal, but Kal was nowhere to be seen. Oh no.. Feeling a sudden shiver run down his spine, he decided to swallow his pride and make himself known to the woman - hoping Kal hadn’t ran her over in his excitement. Besides, it was the most decent thing he could do as he was practically standing in the middle of, what probably was, her garden.

Moving through the last bit of jungle he got to the back of the yard, his jaw all but dropping at what he saw next.

Slender, milky pale legs in knee high rain boots, topped by a plush pair of buttocks that were perfectly hugged by booty shorts that made Henry swallow harshly. She however didn’t seem to have noticed him, her body still folded in half as she seemed to be too preoccupied with tugging on a pair of obnoxious roots.

‘How hard can this be?!’ She fumed, tugging even harder, the muscles in her legs flexing. Henry was at a loss for words in that moment, blatantly staring at her bum as it jiggled with every tug.

And then Kal appeared back in the corner of his eye, the big dog practically pouncing at the woman from one of the bushes.

‘AAAAAAHHH!’ She screamed, flying back as she released the roots in fright, her plush bottom cushioning the blow as she fell down. ‘What the..’ Her initial terror quickly made way for a chuckle, as she noticed it was not a monster but a dog, the big akita sniffing her with curiosity. ‘Oh hey you.’ She laughed. Kal panted, then moved to sniff the roots and decided it would make for a perfect stick, his big muzzle closing around the roots, continuing the tug of war with the obnoxious plant. ‘Hahahaha. Oh my. You want to help?’ She sniffled, bending forward and letting her gloved hands run through his thick fur.

‘I can help too.’ Henry interjected, making the woman fly up in a new bout of terror.

‘OH MY..’ She quickly shot up to her feet, turning around and looking with utter shock at Henry as he stood there at the edge of the bushes.

‘OH! I’m so sorry..’ Henry exclaimed, quickly looking away, his cheeks flushing. The woman let out a gasp as her eyes slowly took in Henry. Tall, dark, handsome. What did the gods send her way this time?

‘Well..hello there. Uh..’ She quickly straightened up, biting her lip as she suddenly felt very flustered. Did she really have to shout so loudly while gardening? And who was he? Had he heard her from the road and thought something was amiss? Her eyes were met by his hesitant cerulean ones.

‘I’m so sorry about that.’ He repeated, offering her a sheepish smile.

‘That’s..okay. Is this your dog?’ She pointed at Kal as he was about halfway through the feat of pulling out the root.

‘Eh..’ Henry pulled a face as he noticed how the dog was practically digging up half a tree, completely ruining what little acceptable bit of garden there was left. ‘I..eh. Yes. That’s, Kal. KAL! Stop that.’

The dog halted his tugging, looking with half an eye at his owner. ‘Come here boy.’ Henry chided, the dog quickly letting go of the root and reluctantly trotting back to Henry’s heel.

‘Oh, he was actually pretty useful.’ She smiled, winking at the dog. Her dark brown eyes slid back up at Henry, long lashes circling browns that glittered with wonder. Wonder of who this stranger was.

‘Well then perhaps we both can help..’ Henry offered, smiling more broadly as she let out a tinkering laugh. She looked so very becoming. Slightly wavy auburn hair, pale skin with freckles and deep brown eyes that somewhat reminded him of Audrey Hepburn.

‘Perhaps.’ She shrugged, looking back at the mess Kal had left behind. ‘Though it’s probably wiser to just go to town to get some better tools. It’s not like this is the one and only root that needs pulling.’ She hinted at the rest of the garden.

‘Perhaps.’ Henry smiled. ‘I’m..Henry by the way. I live next door.’ Henry pointed in the general direction of his house that lay about a hundred meters further up the dirt road.

‘Ha. The famous Mr. Cavill. My name’s Lizz.’ She wanted to step forward to shake hands, but halted midway, realising with the ongoing COVID crisis that was not a smart thing to do. And so instead, she waved somewhat dorkily, making him snicker, his chest rumbling with mirth.

‘Just Henry, that’s fine.’ Henry mused, returning the gesture and waving at her with the same dorkiness. ‘Nice to meet you Lizz.’ His eyes drifted up to the house right next to them.

‘So..you live here?’ He asked, his brows furrowing as he took a better look at the state of disarray the house was in. Wood rot, missing bricks, chipped paint.

‘Yea. I guess I got a bit over-enthused after seeing “Under the Tuscan sun”.’ She shrugged, giggling at her own joke. ‘It’s the house of my late grandparents. Nobody wanted it. But, I decided I could at least give it a try. I mean..’ She shrugged and looked up at the house. ‘..it sure has got character!’

‘All by yourself?’ Henry raised an eyebrow back at her, stealing a quick glance. Boots, booty shorts and a simple white cotton shirt. Nothing close to what the average builder would wear.

‘Are you doubting my capabilities good sir? But eh..yea. For now. Some friends may come over to assist once the regulations are less restricting. And up til then it’s just me and myself.. and I.’ She winked.

‘Well..my offer stands. It’s not like I built all these muscles for nothing.’ He shrugged, flexing them slightly but immediately regretting those words as she quickly looked away from him, trying her best to hide an obvious blush.

‘Sure… And eh..borrowing sugar.. and all that…stuff.’ She muttered, quickly turning to don her gloves in a wheelbarrow, her cheeks bright red by now.

‘Sorry. That maybe came out..wrong.’ Henry shuffled his feet, looking at her as she rummaged through the contents of the wheelbarrow (some shovels, dirt, the gloves - what did she even need to rummage around for?).

‘Do you eh..maybe want a glass of water?’ She finally turned back around, eyeing him carefully. He shrugged. ‘First gotta walk Kal. Before he digs up your entire garden.’

‘Perhaps.’ She laughed, looking at the dog as he impatiently pushed his nose against Henry’s knee, hearing his name but not knowing why.

‘Well. You know where to find me. I’m home practically always. And eh..my offer stands. Help a neighbour out!’ Henry smiled broadly, tsk’ing to alert Kal to follow him.

‘Thanks. I might hold you up to that..neighbour.’ She smiled in turn.

‘I’m looking forward to it.’ Henry sniffled, catching the glint of mischievousness in her brown eyes.

For the first time in a year he felt something stir inside of him, a little seed having been planted, budding in his heart as it beat with delight.

Today sure was a good day.

| Chap 2 >

#henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fluff #henry cavill x oc #deep roots #the girl next door #fanfiction #gardening #uk #gardenwork #meetcute #kal #henry bear #henry cavill

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ecoamerica · 19 days

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youtube

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

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evesbeve · 4 years

Text

it's tough to get away (tua s2 fix-it)

MAJOR SEASON 2 SPOILERS!

Summary: Ben has finally crossed the light, but has unfinished business back on earth. He does the only thing he can think of; he begs God to send him back.

Relationships: Ben Hargreeves & God, Ben Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves

(Read on AO3)

___

“I have to go back.”

In the end, Ben didn’t get to cross the light.

The first time he laid his eyes on it, he was only sixteen with a foot in the grave, quite literally. It felt as if he’d been staring at it for hours, debating whether he should take the next step or not, because truth was, he wasn’t ready. For every second Ben was still on earth, he lost another one of his senses, he felt more and more numb, more and more dead. At least he couldn’t feel the monster in his stomach anymore.

There was nothing left for him in the world, and yet he wasn’t ready to leave it behind. Ben had been stripped of everything. His senses, his feelings, his honor. He didn’t even want to think about what kind of sorry excuse of a funeral his father put together for him.

Looking ahead into the light should have felt reassuring, but it only made Ben more anxious. All his life, Ben had never been sure of what would happen next, but nothing had ever scared him more about the future than this.

So when he heard the voice of his brother calling him back to earth, Ben didn’t hesitate.

Klaus had told him, that first day he conjured him, that he could go back to light anytime he wanted. He had assured him. Ben wasn’t an idiot though; he knew his brother, and he knew the way he lied. Klaus had no clue whether what he was claiming was possible.

But it was okay, because that meant Klaus wanted him there. So Ben stayed.

He spent the next years alongside Klaus, watching him self-destruct. It was fine, for the most part, but Ben could feel himself growing bitter. There was a voice in the back of his head that whispered ‘I told you so,’ as if it was a price for staying, but Ben never figured out who it belonged to.

He did visit the light again. Occasionally.

But he never crossed it. Not even when he stopped feeling altogether. Not even when he was certain Klaus didn’t want him around anymore. Because despite everything, Ben was still scared.

In the end, the light pulled him in.

It was funny, really. Ben had thought he could avoid it forever, but of course he’d been wrong. It came to him in shiny flickers of blue, resting on his clothes, on his skin. It was there to take him away, but also to make him feel again; the more light came, the more he could feel his sister’s arms around him. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been hugged. It was almost seventeen years ago.

Vanya never pulled away from the hug, and Ben didn’t stop feeling it for a long time.

Heaven was… nice.

Really, there was no other word to describe it. It was nice. Ben felt content in a way he’d never felt before, and everything was calm and peaceful. He earned a blank slate. He could be whoever he wanted.

And yet.

“You know you can’t do that,” the little girl with the hat told him as she continued picking her flowers and placing them on her bike’s basket. “Once you cross the light, that’s it.”

“But I didn’t,” Ben insisted, wishing she’d look him in the eye. “I didn’t cross it.”

“Is that right?” the girl said with a smile—a devilish smile—and went right back to work.

Once upon a time, Ben would have dropped it and continued walking down the path alongside the flowers. But he couldn’t do that anymore, not when the place he was supposed to spend his afterlife in couldn’t offer him the things he longed for the most in the world.

“You don’t understand,” Ben said, and the girl huffed. “I have to go back. My family, they—”

“Your family didn’t even know you were there,” the girl said. Ben shivered and bit his lip, but let her finish anyway. “But of course you already know that.” She ran her fingers through the flowers’ petals, before finally settling on one and pulling it from its stem. “You aren’t the first to beg for a way out, and you certainly won’t be the last. I do understand. I have to, to run this place smoothly. I can’t just pick and choose.”

“But that’s exactly what you’re doing,” Ben said, his eyes still pinned on the flower in her hand. “You pick and choose. You play favorites.”

“Not all souls are corrupted, Number Six.” Ben sighed at the use of his number, but it didn’t stop him from feeling helpless. “But I can’t let them mix with those who are.”

Ben’s mind traveled back to the girl and her flowers; picking and choosing, sorting through them, moving them… Not all flowers needed light to grow.

“Want to know which one you are?” the girl said, a teasing tone in her voice.

Ben hated that he couldn’t say no to her.

The girl moved to her bike with a bounce, letting her flowers drop in the basket, and gestured for him to follow her.

They walked through the gardens for a while. As much as Ben wanted to leave this place, he’d always enjoyed looking at the flowers. They didn’t need words to express themselves—just shapes and colors, in a black and white world. And yet, Ben always knew what color they were.

They stopped in front of some bushes, tiny things, and the girl leaned down to pick up a blossom. Her moves were always so calculated, but now she was letting the flower and its white petals rest on her palm almost lazily.

The smell hit Ben like a hurricane.

The small flower smelled of lousy evenings and teasing, of quiet nights looking at the stars. It smelled like stroking a string of memories that hadn’t been touched in years, of something distant yet so familiar. Of laughter, of coziness, of bittersweetness. It smelled of home.

“A gardenia?” Ben asked.

The girl nodded. “That’s the bush I picked you from,” she said, stroking the blossom’s petals. “Of course, you’re here now, so your flower doesn’t exist anymore.” Without missing a heartbeat, she crumpled the flower with a swift movement, and let it fall to the ground.

Ben felt a knot tighten in his chest.

“Why would you do that?”

He’d never understand how God, or whoever she was, could be such a prick.

“You care,” she said, crossing her arms behind her back.

Ben stared in awe at the crumpled flower, then back at her. He wanted to prove her wrong so badly, to stand still, or to walk away, and yet he couldn’t help but lean down and pick up the gardenia. Its petals felt soft, too soft, against his touch, at least those of them who were still holding onto the flower.

“It’s too late for it now,” she said. “It’s just a blossom, ripped from its home. It doesn’t have a stem to plant.”

Ben kept stroking the flower’s leaves, trying to ignore her words. She was wrong. The flower was right there, it was still alive, emitting its bittersweet smell, calling for its home.

“That doesn’t make it useless,” she continued. “It can be used as a fertilizer, to help the other flowers grow. But it will die out, eventually. After all, it’s been corrupted now—”

“Klaus isn’t corrupted,” Ben interrupted. The words came out of his mouth without him processing them. It was only when he heard his own raised voice that he realised what he had said. He hadn’t meant to say it, but it was too late now. “My family isn’t corrupted.”

A smile tugged at the girl’s lips. “Now, I never mentioned him, did I?”

Ben wanted to look away, but everything else around him consisted of flowers, and flowers reminded him of the blossom in his hand, and the way the girl had ended its life as if it was nothing, and if that wasn’t enough, he could still smell it and—

“I keep wondering why you want to go back. What was it he called you?” she asked, looking up, pretending to be in deep thought. “His ‘ghost bitch?’” Ben closed his eyes. “I never liked him, you know. But he must have told you that, I don’t think he likes me very much either. I suppose that’s fair. I wouldn’t like someone who kept choosing other people over me either—”

“He’s not—it’s not like that,” Ben said, but it was. It was like that, because Klaus had acted like a massive asshole by ignoring Ben’s existence and pretending he wasn’t there, by keeping him from his family who he had missed so much, and Ben didn’t deserve that, he knew it, but it didn’t matter, because Klaus needed him. Ben needed him. He took a deep breath and opened his eyes, locking them with the girl’s. “I never crossed your damn light.”

“It doesn’t matter,” she said. “You’re here now, and you need it.”

“Gardenias can grow in the shade,” Ben said.

“But those who never see the sun grow weak,” she said.

“I’ve never forgotten what the sun is like.” And he hadn’t. Ben was dead, detached from the world, but Klaus offered him a way out. He gave him oxygen, he let him breathe, he let him live.

The girl huffed. “You could thrive!” she said. “Inside these gardens, you don’t need to suffer anymore. You don’t need to hold onto a world that hurt you, that killed you. You could have everything you wanted here!”

“No.” Ben shook his head. “I couldn’t.”

The girl looked at him for a few lingering moments before turning around and leaning over the bushes again. Ben felt his body tense up in defense, his hand clenching around the dead flower in his hand. He wasn’t going to let her harm them. Not anymore.

“Hand it over,” she said, and Ben took a step back. She sighed. “I just want to put it to rest.”

Ben glanced on the ground in front of her, where she had dug some soil out of the way; a perfect fit for the blossom in his hand. Part of him wanted to tell her no, but the way she said it sounded… genuine.

Ben nodded and dropped on his knees. He glanced at the girl one more time as she gave him a nod back and he placed the gardenia on the hole. He run his fingers through its petals one more time, before gently covering the hole with the dirt on the side. For a split second, he was back on earth, lying on the ground, taking in the texture of it for the first time in almost two decades. He was snapped out of his thoughts when the girl gave the soil a gentle pat.

“They put gardenias around my grave.”

Ben had no idea why he said that.

“I know,” she said. Any hint of hostility had long disappeared from her voice. “I know everything.” She crossed her legs and made herself more comfortable, wiping her hands on her white dress and staining it, before taking off her hat and letting it rest on her lap. “And yet, I was wrong.”

Ben raised an eyebrow at that. He supposed he could sit down for a little bit longer, so he rested on his thigh, not caring about the dirt. He hadn’t minded dirt getting on his clothes in a long long time. “Wrong?”

“Yes,” she said, pressing her lips into a seemingly forced smile. “You are way more stubborn than your brother.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle. “I know.”

Ben shifted so he was sitting down normally, his legs folded and forming the tiniest triangle between them and the ground. He leaned back, his weight supported by his hands placed behind his body, and looked up at the sky, so he could see the light.

Deep down, he knew it hadn’t been possible. Not everyone got the happy ending of their dreams, and Ben certainly didn’t deserve it. After all, his story—his life on earth, his family, Klaus—had ended seventeen years ago. You can’t turn back the pages on a book that doesn’t have any. You can’t leave a garden with no exit. And you certainly can’t bloom as a flower where there isn’t any light. This was meant to happen. All Ben had left to do was accept it.

He felt a bump on his shoulder, causing him to snap his eyes open. He hadn’t even realised he’d close them, until the figure of the little girl staring down at him came into view. She extended her arm for him, and Ben took it without any more questions.

Once on his feet, she spoke again. “Come on.”

“Why, is it curfew already?” Ben joked.

The girl rolled her eyes but didn’t let go of Ben’s hand. Instead, she started pulling him through the gardens again. “I said, come on.”

“Hold on,” Ben said, but she didn’t seem to be listening. “Hey, I said hold on, can you just—” He freed his hand from her grip, and it was only then that she stopped walking. “Where are we going?”

She sighed, a hint of annoyance manifesting in her voice again, but it wasn’t rude like before. “Home, Ben,” she said. “We’re getting you home.”

Ben stared at her in disbelief.

“H-Home?” he said and she nodded. No. There was no way. “Home as in, home home?” She nodded again. “With my family?”

“Yes, Ben!” she said, and no matter how angry she sounded, Ben couldn’t shake the grin off his face. “With your dumb family!”

He covered his face with his hands, another chuckle escaping him. For a guy that was literally about to cry in front of God, he was feeling quite well. Spectacular, actually. He took a step closer to her, taking her hand between his. “Thank you, thank you so much, you have no idea—”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah… You’re welcome, and all of that, now come on,” she said. When Ben let go of her hand, she adjusted her hat and continued walking down the path with bouncy steps. She stopped, suddenly, turning around to look at Ben again. “I said come on, before I change my mind.”

“Right! Right.” Ben nodded to himself. He was going to see his family, he was going to see Klaus, he was going home where he belonged. Ben took one final breath and stopped fighting the grin threatening to take over his face. “I’m ready.”

The girl smiled. “I know.”

The first time Ben crossed the light, it was to get out of it.

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offbrandmercyplates · 3 years

Text

I should put a title here but I don't know what to put AAA

Tumblr User invader-amethyst: *Has a Greek Gods AU headcanon*

Emmibee: “Hey fic writers, feel free to write—”

Me: *Throws self into the computer screen Super Mario 64 style* I’VE BEEN SUMMONED.

So, yep! invader-amethyst sent in an ask with a Greek Gods AU idea, and Emmibee gave it a stamp of approval. Thus, I wrote. This one actually took a few tries to get started, but I think I’m pretty happy with how it turned out. See you at the bottom!

***

The Unseen One’s Lesson on Loneliness

The Underworld, for the most part, was made up of stone tunnels and caverns that were bathed a deep blue by the numerous crystals on the walls and ceilings. The entrances to these tunnels and caverns often shifted around, by their own will or the will of their king, which created an infinite combination of paths to wander and explore. Condensation would drip from stalactites into little puddles that never grew or shrank, and the drips and drops echoed throughout the Underworld in a way that soothed some and unnerved most. The goddess of spring was part of the former.

Kore was currently sitting in a cavern with a floor of damp, loamy soil. It had been the first gift given to her by the god of death in person, rather than secretly left for her to discover.

She enjoyed feeling the soil with her hands, watching it fall between her fingers and smooth over her palms. She was, admittedly, a bit indecisive, and had yet to choose what she would grow in this new garden first. Since food was ample in the Underworld, flowers seemed to be the best option, but which flowers should she grow first? Should she start small, with some bushes of roses? Something thematically appropriate to the setting, like some branches of belladonna? So many choices, but which would be just right?

Hence why she was simply enjoying the sensation of dirt on her skin; damp enough to form a shape when pressed, but dry enough not to stick.

A slight tickling sensation on her smallest finger, buried under the soil, made her lift her gaze to see a pale, wriggling string crawl its way across the dirt. A worm friend!

Kore flipped onto her stomach and gently patted the worm. Mm, yes. This was some good soil her husband got her if there were worm friends to find.

The little worm stilled at her touch. Its back end lifted and made what looked like a “come here” gesture before it disappeared under the dirt.

Curious, Kore carefully dug a hole around the worm until she found a small, dead plant. She cradled it in her hands. It was a limp, vine-like stem with wrinkly brown tubes clustered along it. There were no roots, suggesting it had been plucked before being buried there.

Kore smiled. Here was her answer.

She closed her eyes and felt energy, warmth, and light pulse into the plant, which she lowered to the ground so it could take root. She let it stand on its own once it had the strength, and she could hear the soft crinkle of petals regaining their vigor.

She opened her eyes and admired the clusters of red tube-shaped flowers on the bush. It wasn’t very big at all, especially in this huge cavern, but the fiery red blossoms seemed to glow like a real fire in the cool darkness. “Erica flowers,” she said. Then, calling over her shoulder: “In the language of flowers, they mean ‘loneliness’. I don’t suppose you knew that, did you?”

There was a clattering sound, like a rock balanced on a stalagmite had been knocked over suddenly. Then Hades was standing next to her. “How did you know I was here?”

“I always know when you’re here,” she replied, tapping the blooms and watching them bounce slightly at her touch.

“I was wearing my Helm of Darkness. Not even a god can sense me when I wear it.”

“Good thing I’m a goddess, then, eh?”

“Kore…” he stopped himself, and she looked up to see him worrying at the handle of his golden staff.

“It’s okay,” she grinned up at him. “I like it when you call me by my name.”

He adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses. She patted the ground beside her, and after a moment, he carefully lowered himself next to her. “The flowers of loneliness…” he hummed to himself.

“Why was it down here?” Kore asked.

“…I was out one day,” he replied, “working on the surface, when I came across a bushel much like this one. My… knowledge of flowers is limited, so flowers shaped like these were strange. I felt a strong draw to them, so I took a branch-full, only to remember too late that I can’t touch most living things. It died in my hand.” He stared hard at the flowers. “The flowers of loneliness,” he repeated. “I suppose it makes some sense.”

“What does?”

“We are alone when we die. A fitting end for a flower meant to symbolize this truth.”

Kore frowned. “Well…” she paused a moment. “I don’t know about that. Look at how many of them there are.” She took his boney hand and guided it to the cluster of red. “You can’t really say they’re alone when they’re bunched together like this. And even when you touched them, they all went together.” His fingertip brushed a blossom, and it didn’t wither. “So they might feel lonely, but they’re not actually as alone as they think they are.” Her hand closed around his and she looked into his eye sockets. “They’re not alone.”

The thrumming echo of dripping water rang in the silence as they looked at each other. Eye sockets, one closed and one wide open, stared into a pair of eyes full of life. His jaw bone was slightly slack, and her smile was warm and gentle.

After a moment, her smile turned a little mischievous. “So… why were you wearing your Helm of Darkness?”

Hades’ skull flushed. “I-it’s not strange for me to have it!”

“In your own territory?”

“I—! Well—! It… may be a habit at this point… when I watch you… it’s not creepy!”

“It isn’t,” Kore laughed. “It just means you’re shy.”

“The god of death is not shy!”

“The god of death is, however, someone who talks about himself in the third person.”

“That means the god of death knows that he’s important.”

The goddess of spring leaned lightly against her husband. “That, he is.”

“Strange woman.” He took a stronger hold of her hand.

“Stubborn old man.” She bumped his shoulder with her head.

***

A major inspiration for the flower I chose for this story came from the second Black Butler Musical, which featured a deep theme about Erica flowers and the loneliness of death. Erica flowers are also called heaths (which are different from but related to heather flowers), and after multiple Google searches, it seems the “fire heath” is the color that means loneliness. Most Erica flowers are white, purple, or pink, but those colors are generally more positive (purple does often mean solitude, though).

Roses, as we know, mean love, which would be perfect for Kore and Hades being in love (and married-ish?); and belladonnas are also called deadly nightshade, which is why it would have been thematic to the setting of the Underworld.

Kore calls Hades her husband, but I’m not actually sure if they’re married in our human sense of the term. Would they have an official “tying of the knot” or would it be more like just something they agree on that’s acknowledged by all the gods?

Where are all the spirits in the Underworld? … Ssh…

*points at the worm* WORM FRIEND! WORM FRIEND!

I originally wanted to include this somewhere in the story, but I imagine that Hades found the Erica flower the day before he saw Kore for the first time. Perfect timing!

Speaking of Hades and Kore, Hades would usually wear his Helm of Darkness when watching Kore from the shadows, and even though she’s bound to the Underworld now, the habit of feeling unseen is hard to break (he’s called the Unseen One for a reason, after all.) How is Kore able to sense him, even when most gods wouldn’t be able to? Perhaps something deeply entwines their souls, deeper than the magic of the helm.

Alright, I think those were the major things I wanted to say. With Ms. Emmibee’s permission, I’ll be posting this to my AO3 and FFN accounts soon. Thanks to invader-amethyst for sending out the spark for this story, and of course to Ms. Emmibee for coming up with this whole AU (and the AUs within that AU). I’ll see you around. Until then!

~~~~~

AAAAA I love this so much!!!!!!

1) I love how you always put meanings into the flowers!!

2) They’re definitely married in some sense; probably had a small, private ceremony with just them and some officiant. Or do gods need an officiant? They pretty much ARE the highest authority.

3) WORM FRIEND

4) I feel like Gaster is just going to be awkward no matter what universe he’s in. Sweet awkward man.

5) Please do post it! I can’t wait to see it!!!!!

Many thanks again for this wonderful story!!!

#OBMPfanfic #yours the author #also i love the 'stubborn old man' bit #so lovely #submission #greek gods au

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vannahfanfics · 3 years

Text

The Lovers’ Plum

Category: Romantic Drama

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Characters: Ochako Uraraka, Katsuki Bakugo

Additional Tags: Supernatural AU; Feudal Japan AU

Hello, everyone! It’s my pleasure to present the story I wrote for the @bokunoyokaibang, “The Lovers’ Plum”! I hope you all enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Please go give some love to my talented partner, @malware-incorporated, who illustrated the story for me!

The Coming of the Plum Tree Spirit

The early afternoon breeze rustled the thin branches of the solitary plum tree, filling the air with a dull clattering as the sticks clacked against one another. The tiny limbs were laden with small pink buds; as the wind washed over them, their silken petals were plucked hence, wafting over the light winds before spiraling down to the emerald grass below. The lone plant stood sentinel atop a gently sloped hill overlooking the clustering huts of a humble Japanese fishing settlement three days’ ride from Edo. Its voluminous bulk had overseen the gushing river since before man had ventured to its shores, and if luck be true, would behold its gentle majesty for many moons to come. Many cycles it had lived, turning pink with blossom and green with fruit and naked with winter’s cold. In an odd twist of fate, it had also born witness to a particular phenomenon of humans- burgeoning love.

Springtime often brought them forth to plead beneath the plum tree. Young girls, and even boys from time to time, hiked the well-worn path from the outskirts of the village to the plum tree’s throne, where they would kneel and clasp their hands in prayer. With tears blossoming in the corners of their entreating eyes, they would implore the ancient being for good fortune in their romantic endeavors. No one was quite sure how the sacred ritual began; humans were notorious for the spontaneous creation of folktales and legends, however. Perhaps one spirited little mind dreamt of a doomed romance beneath the fruit-laden branches, and myth watered its roots, turning the quaint plum tree into a being mystical and divine. Of course, a plum tree is but a plum tree; that is, until it isn’t.

The plum tree spirit, who knew not of the conventions of calendars and days in the early stages of her life, could not say when she had blinked into existence. One fine morning where the birds hopped about the tree’s branches to feast on its ripe purple-red fruits, she had simply blinked awake. Contained within the thick trunk of the tree, she gazed upon the world with fresh new eyes and beheld the majesty of the earth. She ventured out, pale and naked, to touch to grass blades to find them remarkably soft, and to chase the butterflies flitting over the wildflowers. She gasped in delight as the wispy white seeds scattered at her steps, taking to the wind to float away into the wild blue yonder and hopefully take root. The sun was warm on her skin, and the breeze gentle through her chestnut hair. The sky above blazed in resplendent blue, stained by the puffy masses of white clouds.

The plum tree spirit, though she knew not, was a minor god brought forth by the supplicant prayers of hopeful youths.

The newborn spirit spent the first few days of her life playing amongst the wild grasses and flowers, growing bolder day by day. She greeted the mother doe and her fumbling fawn, running ethereal fingers over the spotted fur. She hopped with a tawny spotted rabbit through the golden forest grass and delighted at the yellow tufts that tickled her cheeks and nose. She curled beneath the sprawling blanket of the plum tree’s fruit-laden branches, nibbling at the succulent fruit and admiring the light playing through the emerald leaves. She even crept through the bushes along the small trail to catch glimpses of the thatch-and-wood houses and their residents, who hauled baskets laden with trout and shellfish from the river. Upon her first glimpse of them, the new god realized her corporeal form resembled the female humans’; however, they did not roam about uncovered like she. She studied the strange garments they cloaked themselves with and found that if she simply willed it into being, the cloth materialized and draped over her body. A kimono, they called it. The plum tree spirit imbued it with a lovely pink hue, the exact shade of her tree’s vivid petals.

The humans were like her in body, but the tree spirit knew that she was not human. As she lounged beneath the tree watching the sun sink below the horizon each day, she could not help but wonder what kind of being that she was, and why she was there. She had attempted to speak to the trees along the path, the black pines and red pines and white pines, but they were hollow and voiceless. It seemed that she was alone in this vast full world, a unique and singular existence.

The first days of her life were thus, though filled with the wonder of novelty, extraordinarily lonely.

The Coming of Her Purpose

The plum tree spirit awoke to the sound of hushed giggles. She had discovered that unless she desired it, humans could not see her; up until that point, she had rendered herself invisible, for she knew not how they would react to her sudden presence. The newborn deity peered through the skinny branches of her birth tree to see three human girls scampering up the path. The young god was delighted at their appearance, for perhaps their visit would provide insight into her anomalous presence. Curiously, she watched the girl in front, a beautiful woman with fluffy black hair pinned atop her head, kneel on the ground before the plum tree, and clasp her hands together tightly.

“O, great plum tree that has stood since time immemorial,” the villager announced loudly, “I humbly beseech thee to grant my wish.” The spirit’s ears perked. Wishes? Do I exist to grant the wishes of humans? The god stared at her hands, flexing her fingers. She couldn’t fathom possessing an inherent power to grant the prayers of mortals. Yet, if I exist for this purpose, I must try, she frowned. The girl’s black eyes bored into the cocoa-brown bark of the plum tree with a desperate intensity. “Please, O Goddess of the Lovers’ Plum, please bring me fair fortune!”

One of the girls behind her, a stoic one with short purple-black hair, frowned sardonically.

“Momo, you don’t really believe that nonsense that praying to the plum tree will lead to you meeting your future lover in seven days, right?” she sighed with a shake of her head, placing her hands on her hips. “It’s just an old folktale. I can’t believe you dragged me up here for this…”

“Hush, Kyoka!” the praying girl, evidently named Momo, hissed with an affronted glance over her shoulder. “You’ll anger the spirit, and she won’t grant my wish!” Kyoko’s dissidence indeed angered the tree spirit. Still, she would not spurn the willful young lady for that. Instead, the youthful god grinned and sent a plum falling from the branches above her head. Kyoka yelped as the fruit slammed into her scalp. The plum burst open to spill sticky juice and yellow flesh into her hair. She whined miserably as it dripped onto the white fabric of her kimono. The other companion, a smiling young lady with hair pink like carnations, laughed mirthfully.

“You see, Kyoka? You’ve angered the goddess!”

“Shut up, Mina,” Kyoka growled and disdainfully brushed the clumps of fruit from her head and shoulders. The tree spirit giggled mischievously and returned her attention to the prostrate girl. She had rested her hands on her lap and was staring miserably at the earth. Invisible to their eyes, the young god knelt beside her, staring intently at her forlorn expression. She had realized that humans experienced a phenomenon known as “emotions,” and this one was akin to sadness.

“… I am but a humble seamstress,” Momo lamented woefully. “I beg my father to allow us to travel to Edo and take up shop there so that we may live a better life, but he is adamant we remain by the river. Our family has always resided here, from the time of his grandfather’s grandfather.” Her eyes became lidded as her bottom lip wobbled. Tears slipped down her cheeks, and the tree spirit brushed them away with her fingertips, though the girl likely dismissed it as a mere kiss from the breeze. The god marveled at the glistening tear decorating her finger, a bead of water like dew. She tasted it and then spat it out, finding it to be unbearably salty.

“I wish to meet a man who can spirit me far away from this miserable land!” Momo cried and laid the back of her hand to her forehead in misery. “I wish to see grand things, and sell fine silks to lords and ladies, and live a life of plenty and comfort… Not scrounge for scraps on the shores of a river,” she complained bitterly. The tree spirit was unsure why such a living was undesirable to a human, but then, many of their ways were foreign to her.

“Momo, we have to get going,” Kyoka frowned and glanced down the path leading back to the settlement. “Your mother will be looking for you to mind the shop.”

“Yes, yes,” Momo sighed and rose, brushing the dirt from the fabric covering her knees. The tree spirit hurriedly jumped to her feet, wracking her brain for a manner in which to grant the wish. She elected to follow her instincts.

“Your prayer has been heard, and I grant you my blessing. Go forth and may love find you quickly,” the young god recited and stood on her tiptoes to kiss Momo’s forehead. The girl could not see or hear her, but yet, she blushed slightly and ran her fingertips over the skin there.

“I feel like the goddess heard me,” Momo remarked joyfully to her friends as she trounced over to them. Mina grabbed her arm excitedly and beamed, while Kyoka rolled her eyes but smiled. The spirit watched them meander back down the trail; soon, their avid discussion of young love and hope faded into the sound of rustling leaves and birdsong. She then smiled and squealed and jumped up and down with glee.

At last, the tree spirit knew her purpose.

The tree spirit took to her newfound mission with fervor. Many came to pray to the tree for fair fortune. The god was delighted to find that young Momo had met a fisherman who traveled the length of the river to sell iron-forged weapons seven days after her appeal, and the two fell madly in love. She had immigrated to Edo and now sold hand-crafted kimonos to all manners of folk. The god only had a rudimentary understanding of love, but she could comprehend that love made the humans happy. Summer passed into winter, which moved into the spring. Nine months after she had come into being, the naïve but kind-hearted god met the human who would teach her what it truly meant to love another.

The Coming of Katsuki Bakugo

It was the height of May. The tree spirit had learned the calendar year through her furtive observations of the humans. The air simmered with the sun’s blazing heat, so the tree spirit cooled herself beneath the shady sprawl of her home tree, humming a tune she had learned by watching a washerwoman. She perked up when she heard the unmistakable crunch of sandals upon hard, dried dirt. Sitting up straight and tucking her legs underneath her body, she patiently awaited the arrival of her latest patron. She cocked her head slightly when the muscular form of a man tromped around the corner.

He reminded her of the fishermen- toned and lean, with powerful, thick thighs and bulging arms. He was not dressed in the garb of fishermen, however. The boatmen wore light fabrics that covered their entire body to shield them from the sun’s harsh rays, while this man wore a yukata of thick maroon cloth, with no sleeves and a hem that reached only to his knees. A red-and-white woven rope wound around his forehead. The fishermen were quite a merry bunch, as well, with smiles always alighting their faces and bawdy songs spilling from their lungs, but this human greeted the invisible goddess with a moody scowl. She fidgeted before him, wondering what could cause such irritation.

He stopped in front of the plum tree and gave it a brief once-over. He then snorted and flopped down on his side underneath its shady leaves, holding a hand to his mouth as he yawned. The god observed him fascinatedly, for no human had ever behaved in such a manner before.

“Goddess of the tree or whatever you are,” he droned disinterestedly, “I hope you don’t mind if I take a nap here. It’s hot as shit today.” The little god flushed, recognizing his language as coarse. She inspected him closer to find his brown skin sheened with sweat, and his hands calloused from toil. So he is a laborer, she concluded. She was a goddess and was thus charged with the care of humans, so she supposed allowing the worker to shelter beneath her birth tree was acceptable. She frowned, wishing the plums were in season so she could grant him some fruit to eat. It mattered not, for he was already snoring, resting his head against his arm. The plum tree spirit smiled and stroked his back soothingly.

“Sleep well beneath my blossoms, human man, and recover your strength. I bless you with good fortune in your future endeavors.” She knew he could not hear her, but she fancied he did, because he grunted in his sleep. As he slept beneath her branches, the god observed him critically. He was quite handsome, for a human, with chiseled rugged features and ash-blond hair. His eyes were a brilliant vermilion like the wild red roses that grew along the hill path. She wondered if he did not need to pray for love, because surely such a beautiful human man would be popular among young ladies.

The young man rested for about an hour, until the sun had passed its height to begin its slow descent. He likely would have slept for longer, had it not been for the angry shouting that floated up the hill. The tree spirit straightened up, peering into the greenery as the cursing and yelling grew louder. The human man groaned and scowling, cracking one of his red eyes open to glare reproachfully at the small gap in the bushes that marked the entrance to the hilltop. A man dressed in similar garb, only green, charged through the brambles, red-faced and chest heaving.

“Katsuki Bakugo! What the hell are you doing up here, lounging like a house cat?! You had seventeen orders to fill today!” the angry human scolded. The vermilion-eyed laborer, whom the goddess now knew as Katsuki, scowled condescendingly.

“I filled them, so I came up here to take a nap. Tell me, old man, how much time have you wasted looking for me when you could have been bartering with the tradesmen on the river?” Katsuki remarked and studied the cuticles of his nails. The tree spirit held a hand to her mouth, appalled by the level of disrespect. From what she understood, Katsuki was subservient to this new man, and therefore ought to treat him with honor and dignity. His words carried the tone of anything but. Katsuki sneered as his superior could only sputter and turn the color of a tomato. “Uh-huh.”

“You’re so lucky you’re Mitsuki’s son, or I would fire you in an instant!” the man fumed and stamped his foot. Katsuki frowned and stared unapprovingly up at him. “I owe a life debt to your mother and offer you a place in my business, and this is how you repay me? Sneaking off after you do the bare minimum?!”

“All right, all right, old man, you’re gonna bust my eardrum,” Katsuki grimaced, digging a finger deep into one of his ear canals. Leisurely, he lifted himself into a sitting position. “If you wanted me to stay in the shop to pick up the slack of those other extras, you shoulda said so.” The man growled and pointed a bright red finger at Katsuki but decided that further argument was worthless. He whirled on his heel to tromp back down the pathway, while Katsuki laughed mischievously and shouted after him, “I’m gonna inherit your business one day, you old fart! Watch me!” The plum tree spirit was baffled by the entire exchange, but yet, she could not help but find the spirited young human captivating.

“Bah. Old asshole,” Katsuki huffed and rubbed the short hairs at the base of his neck while he climbed to his feet. He made to begin walking, but then glanced over his shoulder with a raised eyebrow. The goddess would have been directly within his line of sight if he could see her. “… Thank you for allowing me to rest here,” he said with a slight bow.

Then he was gone, stomping off into the bushes. The spirit craned her head to watch the ash-blond tufts of his hair vanish amongst the green. After he melted into the wilderness, she reclined against the thin trunk of the plum tree with a small smile. What an interesting human, she thought jubilantly. I wonder if I shall ever see him again.

The Coming of Ochako

Ironically enough, Katsuki Bakugo did return the following day- and the next and the next, every day for more than the plum tree spirit could keep count. He would always come to snooze the height of the afternoon away, and then be hauled off by his disgruntled boss. Without fail, Katsuki would thank her for graciously sheltering him from the heat. The young goddess soon looked forward to his coming every afternoon- and began to muster up the courage to appear before a human for the first time.

The blossoms had born fruit, and emerald leaves had sprouted by the time she made her move. He came just as he came every day, sauntering up the path to toss himself to the ground unceremoniously. This time, she hovered behind the skinny tree trunk, peering through the small bough to watch him march up the hill. I must be brave! I must make myself known to this human, she told herself. She hovered behind the plum tree, her pink kimono ruffling in the summer breeze, and held her breath as his ash-blond hair appeared above the fringe of the tall bushes. His bulky form soon followed. When his red eyes landed on her, he froze mid-step.

“I, um,” he stammered with an embarrassed blush rising to his cheeks. He pointed quickly down the path. “I can come back later; no one usually comes to pray at this time…”

“No, no!” she squeaked, scurrying out from her hiding spot as he began to turn. “Please stay. I’m not praying here.” His expression grew even more confused, but he obediently remained rooted to the spot. Flushing, the plum tree spirit bowed low. “I am the spirit of the plum tree. I have much desired to meet you formally.” She peeked between the chestnut waves of her locks to witness his reaction. His mouth hung open in shock for a few seconds, and those vermilion eyes beheld her in wonder.

He then began to cackle with loud laughter.

“Bahahahaha! What a joke!” he howled. She straightened up with knitted eyebrows as he sniggered uncontrollably. He held his belly and doubled over, tears dripping from his blond lashes as his entire body shook. “My dickhead of a boss musta put you up to this. How much did he pay you, huh? Plum tree spirit… Pffft, as if!”

“How dare you!” she fumed. She balled up her fists and stamped her feet angrily. The branches of the plum tree began to writhe and quiver despite there being no gale, and the purple fruits started to plummet to the earth. They burst open in showers of gold, scattering their large pods. “I really am the spirit of the plum tree! What a rude human you are, to belittle me when I have allowed you to sleep under my protection for weeks now!” The shadows of the plum tree began to grow blacker and stretch with a dark malice. Katsuki yelped and began to back-pedal; he tripped over his own feet and landed on his rump.

“Wait, wait, wait, wait! I’m sorry!” he protested, waving his hands in surrender as he regarded her with a frightened expression. “It’s just- I don’t- you don’t look like a god.”

“Well, a god I am, so you shall respect me as such!” she huffed and crossed her arms. However, she was satisfied with his acknowledgment, so she relaxed. The plum tree returned to normal, though the sickly-sweet aroma of plums now hung in the air. She regarded the busted fruit with a frown. It would not go to waste, as the birds and beasts would feast upon the succulent flesh, but it was still a shame to make a mess of the place. Katsuki slowly sat up, still gawking at her with a mixture of wonder and awe.

“What’s your name?”

“Name? I do not have one,” she answered, pressing her finger to her lips. “I was not given one. I am simply the spirit of the plum tree.”

“That’s a mouthful,” he snorted. He seemed more at ease now; he was sitting on his haunches, with his legs drawn up and his muscular arms draped over his knees. He pondered for a moment, then smirked. “How about ‘Ochako’? Does that please you, Miss Goddess?” His tone was teasing, but his smirk made her heart race for a reason other than ire. She shuffled her feet and wrung the fold of her kimono nervously.

“O-ochako will do just fine.”

“Ochako, then. My name’s Katsuki.” Ochako supposed she could reply that she was very much aware, but it was customary for humans to introduce themselves, so she refrained. “I make fireworks.”

“Fireworks?” she inquired. In all her time observing the humans, she had not heard such a term. His face visibly brightened at her ignorance.

“Yeah, fireworks! They’re made by combining gunpowder with dyes and other compounds. Then you light them with fire, and they shoot up into the sky to explode into a huge blast of color!” he grinned, gesturing with his hands. Ochako’s brown eyes widened with wonder. Even with his description, she could not imagine such a magnificent display. He leaned back on his hands and smiled warmly at her. “I sailed in with the old man from Edo. Every year, this little backwater village holds a festival to celebrate the river god. It draws in people from all over the country, surprisingly. Me and the old man sail here in May to prepare, and trade with the locals, too, and then in August, we launch all the fireworks to honor the god.” He paused with a frown. “You’re a god here, so surely you must have seen it?” he frowned. Ochako shook her head.

“No. I was born only last summer, very late.” she frowned. “There are many things of this world that I have yet to know and see…” Katsuki grimaced and regarded her curiously.

“How were you born?”

“I am not entirely sure, but I believe I came from the wishes of the locals,” she said with a glance of the plum-laden tree. She smiled wistfully, thinking back to her first prayer, Momo the seamstress. “I came from the hope in their hearts to help grant them fortune in the endeavors of true love. I am not sure if I possess any real power, but I give them my blessing, all the same.” She glanced back at him with a light laugh. “Truth be told, when you first climbed this hill, I thought that you were coming to pray, not sleep!” Katsuki blushed and shifted a little on the ground. “But you are such a handsome human, so surely you don’t need my blessings. I am sure you already have a fine wife.” His face turned the color of her kimono, and he looked away with a pout. Ochako raised her eyebrows. “Am I mistaken…?”

“Yup. Don’t really have time for a woman. We travel all throughout Japan sellin’ fireworks and all. Not too many gals are willin’ to live a life like that,” he said quietly. Ochako detected a hint of bitterness in his voice. Expression concerned, she walked over to kneel beside him, tucking her kimono under her calves.

“Would you like me to give you my blessing?”

“Nah,” he laughed and smiled confidently at her. “I just came here to nap.” Ochako giggled, holding her hand to her mouth like she often saw the refined ladies that sometimes sailed into the village did.

“Very well. I can grant that wish.” She rose and gestured to the circle of shade surrounding the plum tree. Katsuki followed her over, and she knelt once more, then patted the plush of her thighs. He raised a hesitant eyebrow. “It’s all right. I’m sure I am much more comfortable than the ground.” Slowly, he eased himself onto his back perpendicular to her seated form and rested the back of his head on her lap. He wiggled a little to get himself comfortable, then relaxed his hands on his stomach, fingers laced together. His brilliant red eyes sparkled like rubies as they gazed attentively up at her.

“Have you really been alone up here all this time?” he asked her quietly. Ochako blinked, then smiled sweetly and looked out into the quaint little wood surrounding the hill.

“Yes. I am the only one here,” Ochako confirmed, “but it’s all right. I am blessed with the smiles of my patrons and the living creatures of the wood. It may be a solitary life, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything. It is a fulfilling existence to bring others happiness. I may be but a minor god, but that is my charge. I will accept that role readily.” She glanced down at him to find him smiling kindly.

“When fall comes, and I sail off, I’ll tell everyone about Ochako the Plum Tree Goddess. Soon you’ll be known far and wide, and a shrine will be built in your honor.” Ochako beamed at that, visions of a sparkling and well-tended shrine with mikos blooming in her imagination.

“That would be lovely,” she agreed with a nod. “But until then, I shall be content if you but visit me.” Katsuki laughed.

“Yeah, okay, Ochako.” His red irises vanished beneath his closing eyelids. His breathing soon became deep and unlabored. Ochako smiled benignly and stroked his forehead, admiring the softness of his fluffy blond hair.

Yes, she thought blissfully, just keep resting here beneath my boughs, and I shall never be alone.

The Coming of a Goddess’ Love

As promised, Katsuki returned to the Lovers’ Plum every day to speak with Ochako. They sat side-by-side against the thin trunk, and he regaled her with the many, many wonders of the human world. Ochako learned more listening to Katsuki than in her year of secretly observing the humans. She was delighted to learn that they were a very innovative breed, creating a plethora of remarkable tools and novelties. Their creativity and ingenuity were unmatched by any being on this earth.

However, she was also saddened to learn that humans could also be devastatingly violent. Katsuki told her of roving bands of rogues who pillaged farmsteads, of great wars waged between immense hosts of forces, of the seeds of evil that germinated within individuals and caused them to steal and murder and rape. Ochako surmised that it was merely the balance of nature, as light cannot exist without an equal dark, but regardless it still depressed her. Humans were such charming beings. She hated that within them festered the tendencies for destruction.

As June passed into July, the air grew warmer- as did their relationship. They took to wandering the woods, admiring the fanciful splendors of the natural world. On one such occasion, they stumbled upon a vast field of wildflowers- a colorful rainbow as far as the eye could see. Ochako squealed and dove into the blanket of petals, watching as her movements sprung them from their confines, and they raced away on the wind. Her fingers trailed over them, feeling their softness, and her eyes beheld fluttering butterflies and bobbling bumblebees gathering the pollen and feasting on the nectar. When she turned to invite Katsuki into the magical field, he was already right there, tucking a bloom behind her ear and giving her a smile that made her heart race in a manner she had never felt.

“Ochako,” he breathed with a gentle look.

“Yes?”

“You’re beautiful.” His fingers took a swathe of her soft brown hair, his thumb stroking along the strands. She flushed and held a hand to her cheek; she was unable to look at him for her bashfulness. He seemed not to mind her lack of response, for he continued to gaze at her with that smoldering warmth that sent unbridled joy pulsing through her body.

From that day forth, Ochako looked forward to his coming with an overwhelming rapture. One day, at the tail end of July, Katsuki posed the notion of venturing into the village.

“I’m not sure, Katsuki,” she frowned, kneeling amongst the roots of the tree. The fruits were growing overripe and falling from the branches, leaving the grasses sticky and coated with the golden juice. Birds and beasts scrounged for the mushy flesh and seed pods left behind in the fruits’ fermentation. “You are the only human I have ever revealed myself to.”

“You don’t have to tell anyone you’re a god,” he reassured. “Please. I want to enjoy more than just a measly hour or two with you.” Ochako flushed at that, fidgeting as that incredible joy wrapped around her heart like ribbon. Curling a piece of her hair around her finger, she pondered the suggestion. I suppose it’s all right, as long as I pretend that I am human. Thus, she agreed, and Katsuki promised to retrieve her that afternoon around sunset.

After he bid her farewell, Ochako experienced true impatience for the first time. She restlessly paced the small area around her plum tree, and even fidgeted distractedly during the few prayers she granted. The sun seemed to mock her by inching along the blue expanse, refusing to go at a pace more than a snail’s crawl. That was actually one way in which Ochako occupied herself- by watching one of the shelled creatures slide along a large grass blade. When it reached the summit, bending the grass blade under its heavy weight, it wiggled its antenna and pondered its next move. It turned around and began slinking down the way it came.

After what seemed a life age, the blue sky began to bleed with red and orange and gold. The sun melted behind the collection of houses hugging the river. One by one, the settlement’s torches blazed to life, illuminating the area with flickering fire. The thatch roofs caught the sunlight to burn gold, and the few glimpses of the water Ochako could catch from her high perch revealed the river to be sparkling like the stars.

“Katsuki!” Ochako squealed when he came traipsing through the bushes. She rushed to him, beaming, and he affectionately ruffled her bouncy brown hair. She crooned in delight and nuzzled into his palm. Though it was roughened by much toil, it still felt nice when he caressed her.

“Ready?” he asked with an endearing smile. Ochako nodded ecstatically. “Let’s go, then.” She blushed bright pink when he offered her his hand. From the way the village girls talked, holding hands was a romantic gesture, at least within humans their age range. Ochako gulped and timidly reached out to grasp his hand. Her fingers slid alongside his like a mechanism locking into place- naturally. His hand was so warm, and the calloused skin felt pleasurable against her soft palm. Her heart jumped in her throat as he allowed their arms to fall loosely between them, and they swung slightly with every step they took down the path. As the buildings grew larger and larger, she found herself pressing into his hefty frame, as if he could shield her from the unknown.

The village rang with noise, even at night.

The air hummed with pleasant conversation. The denizens lounged on their porches to enjoy the warm summer evening, smoking on pipes and sharing bottles of sake. Children squealed as they chased fireflies in their yards or bounced rubber balls with sticks or wrestled with dogs in the mud. The grass gave way to wooden walkways that connected the houses and extended onto the river, where the fishermen moored their boats. With the coming of night, they had ventured in from the water and were clustered around barrels, laughing raucously as they bet on cards or shogi games. Every once in a while, they would get heated and start brawling, only to tumble into the river and come up laughing. The glow from the braziers cast a warm red glow on everything that complimented the natural light of the full moon above. Ochako’s head swiveled on her neck as she attempted to absorb every detail of the humans’ lives as she could. Katsuki watched her with an amused smirk.

“Here’s where I work,” he announced when they had ventured deep into the waterfront settlement. It was a large building set back from the water. It was open to the air, with only a sloped roof to shield it from the elements. Smoke poured from within, and Ochako’s nose wrinkled at the acrid scent of earthy minerals. “Would you like to see the fireworks?” Ochako nodded eagerly; she had been much enthralled with the human device since their first meeting. Katsuki chuckled and brought her inside.

“Eijirou!” he called as he lifted the cloth flap that served as a door, though large open windows framed either side of it. Large tables stretched throughout the space and were laden with a variety of objects Ochako knew not the name for. A redheaded man came trotting out of the gloom, wiping his hands on a cloth with soot staining his smiling face.

“Hey, Katsuki! Comin’ to burn the midnight oil? We still have a lot to do before the River God Festival.”

“Hell no,” Katsuki snorted derisively. He raised his arm to reveal Ochako, who was hiding behind his massive bulk and peering shyly around his ribs at the newcomer Eijirou. “I came to show her around.”

“Oh, is that so? So, you’re the girl Katsuki’s been sneaking off to see every afternoon,” the redhead grinned with a playful wink. Ochako’s cheeks brightened as she peeked up at Katsuki. Does he talk about me? Katsuki tched and gave Eijirou a dismissive wave, but from the delighted twinkle in his red eyes, Ochako could tell that Katsuki looked upon the other fondly. She gulped and snuck further behind Katsuki’s back as Eijirou approached. He gripped his chin and stepped around the blond to inspect her critically. She pressed her face into Katsuki’s back, peering bashfully at him through the gap in her brown hair. “Well, no wonder our Katsuki is so smitten. You sure are a cutie!”

“Oi! Go make yourself useful, Shitty Hair,” Katsuki growled and shoved Eijirou in the shoulder.

“Hey now, hey now, I’m not intruding,” the redhead smirked and pranced away. “I’m just stating facts, that’s all~!” With a giddy laugh, Eijirou made himself busy assembling the fireworks. Curious now, Ochako peeled herself away from the man to ease over. She froze when Eijirou glanced out of his peripheral vision at her, but he only smiled and continued about his business. She crept up to the table, craning her neck to observe the process. He was loading a multitude of grainy particles into a tube, then capping them with a conical shape. A large pile of them already sat on the edge of the table, hued in blues and greens and reds. She poked one experimentally, then tugged at the black strings on the end.

“Careful,” Katsuki warned and gently pulled her fingers away. “Those are the fuses. We light them to shoot them off. Wouldn’t want these exploding down here,” he smiled gently.

“Yeah, the boss’d really kill you then,” Eijirou snickered. Katsuki scowled and stuck out his tongue at him.

“That old man won’t do shit because he’s too busy pining after my old lady.”

“Yeah,” Eijirou laughed, “your mom sure has fun letting him cling to her skirts. You know he bought her a real ruby hairpin the other day? Are you sure your mom isn’t actually-”

“Hey, you watch it,” Katsuki warned and jabbed a finger into his chest. “My mom would never cheat on my old man with that greasy old fart.” Eijirou laughed and held his hands up in surrender.

“All right, all right, I was just kidding.” Katsuki snorted and grabbed Ochako by her elbow to gently lead her out of the fireworks shop. She hurriedly looked over her shoulder and gave Eijirou a wave of farewell.

“Tch. Shitty smiling jerk,” Katsuki grumbled.

“He seems like a good friend,” Ochako smiled. Katsuki blushed, then shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck.

“He’s all right. He makes work a hell of a lot less boring.” Ochako snickered at his reluctance to admit his fondness for the boy. It was a very Katsuki thing to do.

They continued to wander the township, eventually arriving upon a stall selling jeweled accessories. Ochako had always admired the hairpins some of the young girls wore when they ventured up to her plum tree and had secretly yearned for a pretty adornment. She released Katsuki’s hand to scamper over to the stall. She cooed over a bright pink one inlaid with round pink gems and styled in the likeness of a plum blossom. The aged man operating the booth smiled kindly.

“Ah, yes. That’s a popular model. The young girls around here fancy it as homage to the Lovers’ Plum.” Ochako blushed as she was unintentionally praised. She held up the hairpin, admiring the way the moonlight played over the crystalline gems. Ochako knew that such items required money to acquire, however, and as a goddess with no human trade, she possessed no funds. A bit blue, she set the hairpin down on the counter- only for Katsuki to throw down a handful of bills.

“That should cover it, right, old man?” The stall tender pursed his lips and leafed through the wad of cash, handing a few of them back to Katsuki before pushing the hairpin towards Ochako.

“Katsuki, you didn’t have to-” He shushed her and picked up the hairpin. Her eyes widened as he tenderly pushed the accessory into her curling brown hair, pinning the gorgeous flower right above her ear. His hand fell so that his fingertips brushed over her cheekbone, spreading a pink haze in its wake. The pads of his fingers traveled to her mouth, resting over her lips.

“Beautiful.”

It was in that moment that Ochako the plum tree spirit realized that she was head-over-heels in love with the human Katsuki Bakugo.

The Coming of the Colorful Night

A delighted smile graced Ochako’s lips as she admired her reflection in the rain puddle. The flower hairpin glimmered in the sunlight, accenting the rosy blush ever-present in her youthful cheeks. She sighed dreamily and laid on her belly in the damp grass, kicking her feet over her back. She imagined the smirking personage of Katsuki in the water, and the way he smiled so affectionately at her that night. She whispered his name, and just that small action sent tingles of joy flooding through her nerves. With a squeal, she clutched her beating heart and rolled over.

At last, I know what it means to be in love!

It was a wonderful feeling. Ochako knew now why the humans so desperately sought its graces. Her soul felt like it was continually floating on air, giving her a blissful weightless sensation. Her face ached from incessantly smiling, but it was a good ache. She could occupy her mind for hours reminiscing of their many ventures. She sighed wistfully again and watched the breeze toss about the emerald leaves of her tree. The golden light was filtering through, dappling her body with shadow.

Unfortunately, Katsuki would not be visiting today. It was the afternoon of the River God Festival, and the shop owner had insisted on his presence. However, Katsuki did promise to collect her near sundown so that they could watch the fireworks together. When she had inquired if that would anger his boss, he haughtily replied that he didn’t much care. The sun was sinking through the sky, drawing ever closer to the horizon, and Ochako was awaiting his arrival with bated breath.

Tonight, I am going to tell him that I love him!

She rolled onto her belly and watched a ladybird crawl up a blade of grass. Resting her cheek on her forearm and smiling blissfully, she fantasized about her impending confession. Surely, Katsuki loved her as well; she was not ignorant of the way he looked at her. He actively sought out her presence and often called her beautiful or gorgeous, and he always held her hand tightly, as if he never wanted to let go. Then that look in his eyes- that look like he was beholding the most sublime creature on earth, one that held his entire body and soul. If that was not love, then Ochako didn’t know what was.

She hopped to her feet when she heard the familiar sound of footsteps.

“Hey, Ochako,” Katsuki beamed when she jumped up to scuttle over to him. She threw her arms around him in a hug, burying her nose into his sternum and breathing in the strong scent of sulfur and gunpowder that clung to him. She had grown used to the odor and now found it very soothing. His strong arms surrounded her in a returned embrace, and he pressed his face into the top of her head. “Are you ready?” She nodded ecstatically and looked up at him with sparkling eyes.

“Let’s go, hurry so that we can find a good spot!” she demanded and tore away from him to start running down the path. He grabbed her wrist, and she jerked back. When she looked at him confusedly, he gestured to the plum tree. “We’ll be able to see them from here?” she asked and looked down the path again, unsure.

“I promise. After all, all we only need to see the sky,” Katsuki said and pointed above their heads. Ochako looked up with a frown. The sky above the plum tree was remarkably clear and wide, not tainted by the light of the township below. Ochako elected to take him at his word, and they tromped over to the tree, sitting at its base. Their sides pressed together, and Katsuki kept their hands linked, running the pad of his thumb over the top of her hand. It made jolts of electricity travel up her arm, but she loved the feeling.

The sun slowly sank into the river, and the watchful night closed in. One by one, the stars blinked into existence, sparkling like gems in the vast expanse of the blue-black sky. The crescent moon hung low, bathing the world in just enough of its glow to cast long black shadows. The gloom enveloped Ochako and Katsuki like a blanket. Even in the darkness, his ruby eyes glimmered as they flickered to her. His smile curled on his lips, but when she went to speak, he put a finger to his mouth and gestured upwards with his chin.

There was a sound like a shriek, and then a resounding pop. Ochako jumped at the sudden noise, but it was soon forgotten as color exploded against the dark backdrop of the night sky. Ruby-red sparkles filled the air, spreading like tree roots across the blackness before fizzling out. More shrieks sounded in the distance, and the sky came alive with more color than Ochako had ever seen. Her mouth hung open as she gawked shamelessly at the splendorous display unfolding before her.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered.

“Yeah. It sure is.” She glanced at him to find him staring right at her. That sweet smile like she was the thing dearest to him graced his lips, and his vermilion eyes glimmered with a roaring flame no water could ever douse. Her heart thumped hard against her ribcage as his gaze dropped down to her lips. She gulped slightly, digging her fingers into the fabric of her kimono, as his hand slowly rose to cup her cheek. “Ochako,” he breathed. His thumb traced a trail across her cheekbone in repetitive caresses. She watched with lidded eyes as the colors played across his face, dull glows of red and blue and green and gold kaleidoscoping in a beautiful array. His face edged closer, and her eyes fell closed in anticipation.

His lips molded over hers like the sweetest honey. Ochako’s chest swelled with a deep inhale at the wondrous feeling. It felt like she had long been lost, and she had finally returned home. She pushed into the kiss, desperate for more contact, and her hands jumped forward to splay across his chest. His hand pushed into her hair to grip the back of her head and angle it, kissing her with more fervor. The fireworks continued to explode overhead, but Ochako no longer thought them magical. No, the magical thing was this man in front of her, the man who had appeared so suddenly one day and taught her what it meant to love.

When they pulled apart, tears glimmered in her eyes.

“Katsuki. Katsuki, I love you,” she blurted. The words had ballooned within her, filling her chest with a painful tightness. She suddenly had the suspicion she was going to disappear, perhaps even before her waking eyes. “I love you so much. Please, I-” He gently shushed her and placed two fingers over her lips, then leaned in to press a sweeter, chaste kiss to her mouth. His other hand fell to grasp hers and interlace their fingers.

“I love you too, Ochako,” he murmured against her mouth, eyes still closed. Ochako groaned and melted against him, savoring their way their parted lips meshed and their breath mixed in the warm night air. He gripped her hips and pushed against her, and her body obeyed his silent command, laying back into the cool grass. He climbed atop her, her legs slotting perfectly before his spread knees, and he began to pepper her face with little kisses.

“I’m so fucking grateful I stumbled upon this fucking plum tree-” he growled, his kisses becoming more fervent and open-mouthed. Ochako mewled as he dropped his head to plant lingering, ardent kisses along the column of her neck. His hands kneaded the plush flesh of her hips. She threaded her fingers into his tousled ash-blond hair and peered through her lashes. The emerald leaves of the plum tree blanketed them, and beyond that bloomed a brilliant night sky alive with all the colors of the universe.

There, with only the plum tree and that sky to bear witness, Ochako and Katsuki sealed their love for one another forevermore.

The Coming of the End

Katsuki didn’t come the following day, or the next or the next. Ochako surmised it was the constant rain. It poured endlessly from the heavens like they were weeping, saturating the earth. Puddles bloomed on the ground and grew larger every day, and they melded into each other to create a latticework of water channels and small ponds. The water streamed down the slope of the hill to pool in the lower lands, and soon the path flooded over completely. Isolated atop her lonely knoll with the plum tree, Ochako recalled Katsuki’s hands blazing trails across her body, and the clouds of their breath misting in the cooling night, and the way they sang each other’s names to the skies.

The rain continued for several weeks, and then it stopped. The sun finally breached the barrier of the gray clouds to shower the earth in its spearing rays. Slowly, the voluminous water soaked into the ground. Curious to how the humans fared, Ochako ventured down to the village-

and was greeted with nothing short of a tragedy.

The swelling of the river had ravaged the small settlement. It still exceeded its banks, pouring over the porches of the low-lying houses. Furniture and trinkets and clothes that had once carried sentiment floated in the current, occasionally catching on the spindly fingers of broken branches and even wholly uprooted trees. The wooden walkways were now roads for the river trout, and the townsfolk meandered between the flood buildings in their boats. A few of the vessels had not been so lucky. They were either sunk into the depths of the river or had crashed into the houses. The air was rank with depression and anxiety. The fireworks workshop had collapsed, with the roof sticking up out of the water at an odd angle and the cloth door floating on the surface. Ochako couldn’t find the little accessory stall at all.

Ochako fled back up the hill, unable to bear the sadness any longer. She collapsed at the base of her tree and wept. Clasping her hands together so hard that her knuckles glared white, she prayed, and prayed, and prayed. She prayed for Momo and her fisherman husband, for Kyoka and Mina, for the grumpy fireworks shop owner and Eijirou and the friendly accessory shop owner- and for Katsuki, she prayed aloud until her throat was raw and she was coughing up blood. Yet she kept praying, until finally, darkness took her, and she melted into unconsciousness.

When she awoke, he was sitting up against the plum tree with her head in his lap. She would have jumped up and hugged him if his expression had not been so miserable. His fingers slowly teased through her locks of chestnut hair. He had been doing so a while, as evidenced by the channels parting the swathes of her locks. Frowning, she raised a hand to brush her fingertips over his chin.

“Katsuki, what’s wrong?”

He didn’t answer her immediately. When he did, he cast his vermilion eyes into the distance, as if he could not bear to look at her. Finally, he whispered, “You’re going to die, Ochako.”

She sat up, her frown deepening. Katsuki clicked his tongue at her expression of confusion and looked down at his lap.

“What? I don’t understand.”

“The locals say the flood was the wrath of the river god. Apparently, they think that revering the plum tree has angered him, and he flooded the town in vengeance. They-” he choked on his words. He pushed his fist into his mouth as tears blossomed in his eyes. “They’re going to cut the plum tree down.” Ochako paled as frightening realization dawned upon her. Ochako was born of the plum tree and its associated prayers. If they removed the plum tree and ceased to pray, Ochako would disappear. Terrified, she jumped forward to cling to Katsuki, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Katsuki, I don’t want to die!” she wailed in dismay. Her heart hammered in her throat, and a tremor gripped her body. Katsuki threw his arms around her in a smothering embrace, burying his face into her hair as he hiccupped with a broken sob. She snuggled into him, surrounding herself in his warmth and gunpowder scent, as if it could shield her from her coming death. It could not, however; she could hear the mob approaching already, shouts and curses floating on the early morning air.

“I won’t let them,” he snarled and hugged her tighter. Ochako whimpered, but as much as she would admire him for defending her honor, she could not allow it.

“No, Katsuki! If you interfere, they’ll murder you,” she insisted, prying herself away from him. She sucked in a deep breath and wiped her eyes with the backs of her hands, slowly bringing herself down from the fearful mania. He stared at her incredulously.

“Ochako, if we do nothing, they’ll murder you!”

The shouts and curses grew louder. Birds took to the air, startled by the aggressive ascent of the river folk. Time was running out.

“I have an idea,” Ochako said and hopped to her feet. She clambered into the boughs of her plum tree to pluck the last remaining fruit of the season from its branches. Falling back to the flats of her feet, she tore away the golden flesh to reveal the pit within. She thrust it out to Katsuki, and he took it with startled hands. “This seed contains the essence of my birth tree,” she told him firmly. “Take it far from here and plant it. As long as my tree can bloom once more, and you continue to believe in me, I shall not cease to exist.” She smiled painfully as his expression contorted in pain. His quivering hand brushed over her cheek, and she leaned into his touch.

“Ochako, no,” he begged. Her heart shattered as his voice cracked with agony. The tears flowed down her cheeks like the accursed rain, burning as it trailed over her skin. “I can’t watch them do this.”

“You must, and you will,” she told him gently. She grabbed his hand and turned her head to press a long kiss into his calloused palm. “I will see you again,” she vowed, looking at him with heated brown eyes. He choked out another sob again, then grabbed her wrist to yank her forward. Her body fell upon his, and their lips crashed together in a tumultuous, passionate, heartbroken kiss. Katsuki kissed her right up until the moment the mob stormed into the clearing before she vanished before his eyes. The angry mob shoved him to the side despite his fragmented pleas, and he crashed to the ground. He watched, wide-eyed and clutching the little seed pod to his chest, as they swung the axe into the skinny trunk of the plum tree. It only took the one swing to bore deep into the heart of its wood, and with a noise not unlike an agonized scream, the tree fell backward and crashed into the earth. The leaves quivered with dying breaths, and sap poured like blood from the wound.

The rain began to pour though not a cloud was in the sky. It was as if the world was lamenting the loss of its purest soul.

The Coming of the Legend

Katsuki Bakugo sailed away from the riverside town that very afternoon. He bought a little clay pot and took some soil from the hill to plant the plum tree seed, and he waited. The boat meandered along the river to destination after destination, festival after festival, but the seed did not take root. Yet he waited, optimistic that his love would return. He slept with the little pot of dirt tucked against his chest, and sometimes, he imagined it was Ochako’s heartbeat and not his own pulsing through the clay and earth. Three months went by, but nothing ever sprouted from the seed. Hope was all he had, and he clung to it like a lifeline. His boss once ridiculed him for obsessing over the empty pot and had attempted to toss it into the river, and Katsuki broke the man’s nose and an arm struggling to get it back.

The old fogey finally fired him for that stunt.

Katsuki returned home to his lofty home on the outskirts of Edo. His mother had made her fortune designing kimonos. Even the waiting ladies to the wealthiest samurai wore her designs, or so it was said. Ginkgo trees and cherry blossoms and pines towered above the ornate building, but their sprawling garden did not possess a plum tree. Katsuki found a patch of earth about the size of the hilltop and planted the seed, which had not rotted even after three months in the small pot of soil. He took up a profession cooking and made more money than he ever had crafting fireworks. Every night when he returned home, arms aching and smelling of various spices and meats, he would go to the garden and look for a sprout.

He’d kneel at the spot and pray until his throat bled raw, and blisters burst on his clasped hands, and he would water the earth with his tears.

The servants began to whisper that he had gone mad over the drowning of his lover in the riverside town. His mother and father looked on in concern but allowed Katsuki his grieving. Katsuki had always been a hothead, but his temper shortened a drastic amount; he would scrap with strangers in the streets if they so much as looked at him the wrong way. He punched holes in the walls and kicked over furniture at the slightest provocation. He’d grab his clothes and tear them to shreds, simply because his world was falling apart around him, and he didn’t know how to deal with it.

His muscles wasted, for he had not the care to tend them. Weight sloughed from his frame, as food or drink tasted like ash in his mouth. His body took to a persistent cold, but no doctor could mend him, for his illness was of the heart. The whole world seemed dark, for his sun had been cruelly snuffed out of existence.

Six months to the day after the felling of the plum tree, he fell to his knees before the buried plum tree seed and beseeched the glittering night sky. He screamed, and he roared, and he yelled, and he cried, begging the gods to take mercy on a virtuous plum tree spirit who graced the world with love and light. The servants looked on in awed horror as he begged the heavens for recompense until dawn began to peek over the horizon, and then darkness took him.

When he awoke, it was beneath the shade of a fully-grown plum tree. His head was cushioned by something soft and plush, and someone was stroking his ash-blond hair with loving fingers. His vision gradually cleared to reveal a smiling brunette, with round cheeks and a blissful smile and eyes like the earth.

“I’m sorry to have kept you waiting, Katsuki.”

As generations came and went, the landscape of Japan changed, and so did the illustrious manor of the Bakugo family- yet the plum tree remained, a monument to an era long lost. The household had been torn down and rebuilt many times over, remodeled by inheritors of the family’s fortune.

Yet, they never touched the plum tree. That’s because everyone knew the legend of the Lovers’ Plum- the saga of a love so powerful that no force on this earth could break it. Rumor says that the plum tree spirit still inhabits the tree and grants wishes of romance to those who reach her ears, and that on nights where fireworks fill the sky, one can see her and her human beloved seated beneath its boughs, holding hands and staring into one another’s eyes.

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!

#kacchako #bakuraka #bakugo x uraraka #bakugo x ochako #uraraka x bakugo #ochako x bakugo #my hero academia #mha #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha fanfic #mha fanfic #bnha fanfiction #mha fanfiction #kacchako fanfic #kacchako fanfiction

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prettyboy-parker · 4 years

Audio

fair-starker

warnings: hard drug use, mentioned abuse, addiction

words: 2.4k

a/n: PLEASE LISTEN TO THE SONG!!

***

It's what my heart just yearns to say

In ways that can't be said

It's what my rotting bones will sing

When the rest of me is dead

“Tony, we’re going to get caught!”

The older boy just chuckles and tightens his grip on Peter’s hand. The small brunette presses his body closer to Tony’s, and shines the flashlight over the dirt path.

“You’re too tall, I can’t see a thing!” He hisses as they clamber down the path. Tony stifles a laugh as his boyfriend huffs and puffs behind him. He had been so worried when Tony suggested they sneak out to the lake. He claimed that if they were caught, they’d never be able to be counselors at Camp Sunny Smiles ever again. Tony reassured him that the owners would never be mad at Peter, since they’re head over heels in love with the kid. And, Tony would take the blame for him any day.

Tony takes a sharp right and pushes through a few overgrown bushes, leading Peter to the old wooden dock. There’s an abandoned canoe tied to one of the posts, gently swaying with the lake. The couple steps onto the dock, testing the sturdiness of the wood before sitting on the edge. Peter snuggles up to Tony’s side as they dangle their feet right above the water. The older boy looks down at him before leaning in for a kiss.

Peter hums happily and wraps his thin arms around Tony’s neck. Tony licks into his mouth sloppily, cupping Peter’s baby soft cheek in his calloused hand.

“You taste like weed,” Peter says with a grimace once they pull away. “I told you to stop smoking. It fucks with your health.”

Tony looks down, embarrassed. Sure, he said that he’d get rid of his pot… but he couldn’t. Howard had split his lip when he came home from the date where he made the promise, so it wasn't really an option at the time.

“I just love you,” Peter murmurs, resting his head on Tony’s shoulder. “I want you to be safe.”

Tony gently caresses Peter’s soft curls.

“I love you too.”

It's what's engraved upon my heart

In letters deeply worn

Today I somehow understand the reason I was born

Tony tucks his hands into the pocket of his hoodie as he waits for Peter to get out of his lecture. There’s a few people trickling out of the hall, and one girl is crying. His head throbs from his hangover, and he sniffles, as his nose is irritated from the coke he snorted this morning-

“My handsome genius!”

Peter gracefully hops down the steps of the lecture hall, smiling wide and curls bouncing from his pep. While it feels like college used a board to smack Tony upside the head, Peter took to college like a duck to water. He’s practically glowing as he spins into the bigger boy’s arms.

“Class was so interesting today!” He squeaks. “We learned about the Channel Tunnel and how it was made.”

Tony hums and presses a kiss to his forehead.

“I’m glad you had fun, baby,” He says softly, sniffing again. Peter gives him an odd look and pinches his nose. It hurts, dammit, but Tony tries not to let his smile waver.

“You better not be getting sick. What if you miss class?”

Tony’s heart aches.

Cos outwardly he says I try so hard to make you laugh at me

And she, she does,

She laughs as though she not heard the joke ten thousand times before

One of the worst things in the world is seeing Peter cry.

When his bambi eyes grow wide and fill with shiny tears, even the most hardened man will drop everything to comfort him.

“I can’t believe you,” Peter breathes, the hand where he holds the baggie of white powder shaking wildly. “I can’t.”

“Pete, honey,” Tony blabbers, trying to stand up from the couch. But a wave of nausea hits him, and he stumbles over to his boyfriend. “It’s okay. I only take it sometimes. It helps me stay focused.”

Peter’s bottom lip quivers as Tony yanks the baggie from him.

“It’s okay,” He repeats, wrapping his arms around Peter’s torso. The poor thing is shaking like a leaf. “I’m not addicted or anything. I barely even touch that shit, okay?”

Peter nods and buries his head into Tony’s shirt.

“Can I make it up to you? If I were an enzyme, I’d be DNA helicase so I can unzip your genes.”

Against his chest, Peter lets out a shaky laugh.

And he adores her,

He watches her get dressed as though she's hurtling through time

Oh darling please be mine

The ceiling is spinning.

Tony groans as the ugly beige dorm ceiling wobbles above him. His stomach lurches as he looks at the fan, which seems like it’s falling...

“Tony?”

The man tilts his head, and through blurry eyes looks at Peter.

“Holy fuck,” He mutters, sitting up even though his stomach protests. “You look beautiful.”

Peter gives him a weird look. Tony doesn’t understand, because he’s so stunning.

“Babe, I’m in my pjs,” The brunette snorts, throwing his clothes from the day into his hamper. Even with Peter’s non-chalantness, Tony can feel tears pricking the corners of his eyes. How did he get so lucky? A beautiful, smart, kind boy like Peter, all for him.

The other man climbs into their bed, lying across Tony’s chest. He was able to bribe the housing office to let them room together, and buy one big bed for both of them. His dad wasn’t too happy with the way he was spending his money.

Tony holds Peter tight.

She promises to fight them all when it all becomes too much

And he, he curses at the world for

Leaving him behind and he's falling out of touch

“No no no no please…”

Tony sobs into Peter’s shirt, clutching the soft material in his fists. The man keeps murmuring something about a ‘bad trip’, but Tony can’t fucking concentrate. His mind is racing like a marathon runner, thoughts of Howard ever putting his filthy fucking hands on Peter stuffing his mind.

And she is stronger than he's ever been he knows

“He won’t hurt me, Tony,” Peter coos, rocking the older man back and forth gently. Tony yells and cries, bile rising in his throat. The thing is, Peter doesn’t know Howard. He doesn’t know the power he has, how he can rip anyone away from his grasp.

And she brushes her hand through his hair

He's got so much fucking hair

And he holds her close just to keep the world at bay

“Stay with me,” Tony mutters through his tears. He squeezes Peter as tight as he can. “M’keep you safe. If he comes near you I’ll fucking s’rip his guts out.”

Peter sighs heavily and Tony heaves again.

And when they're sure no-one can hear them

She'll turn to him to say, she'll turn to him and say

It's not fair, It's not fair how much I love you

It's not fair,

Cos you make me laugh when I'm actually

Really fucking cross at you for something

“You’re lucky I love you so much,” Peter grumbles as he wipes Tony’s bleeding nose with a tissue. The bigger boy winces as he hits a particularly sensitive part of his skin. It’s spring now, and they’re almost finished their junior year. Tony can’t believe college has gone by this fast; in a blur of drugs and Peter.

“Damn right,” Tony quips, gently tracing a heart on Peter’s thigh with his bloody finger. “I’m the luckiest man in the world, baby boy.”

Peter rolls his eyes and grabs a clean tissue.

“No, I’m fuckin’ serious…”

And he'll say

Oh how oh how unreasonable

How unreasonably in love I am with everything you do

I'll spend my days so close to you cos if I'm

Standing here maybe everyone will think I'm alright

***

I've seen enough he says I know exactly what I want

And it's this life that we've created,

Inundated with the fated thought of you

And if you asked me to, if you asked me I would lose it all

Even in a red and white graduation gown, Peter looks stunning.

“We did it, Tony bear!” The man cheers, wrapping his arms around Tony’s midsection. The sun shines down on the crowd of the graduates and their families. Tony slips Peter’s graduation cap off of his head and kisses his mop of curls. “I’m so proud of you.”

Tony feels a rush of utter love and emotion as he holds the love of his life in his arms.

Fumbling for the ring in his pocket, he gets down on one knee.

Like petals in a storm, cos darling I was born

To press my head between your

Shoulder blades at night when light is fading

Just to let you know I'm old, waylaid and feels like I am wading into

Carpet burns and carousels oh Christ you'll be the death of me

Tony runs his fingers over Peter’s arm as he comes down from another high. He had to do three lines this time, and it wasn’t even that good of a trip. He’s talked to his dealer about getting a bit of heroin instead of his usual coke, but he doesn’t want to disappoint Pete.

“Tony?” His fiancée asks softly, adjusting the comforter. “When can we get married?”

Tony chuckles against the back of Peter’s neck.

“Anytime you want, honey bun. I’ve got the money-you just say the word. It can be big and flashy, or we can just run down to town hall. I don’t care, whatever you want. Because I love you so fucking much, baby.”

Peter’s soft snores fill the bedroom.

And calm throughout his melodrama she

Will turn and say 'dear heart It's me, its me

“Tony, it’s me, it’s Peter. I’m right here.”

Tony’s whole body shakes as he stares at the man in front of him. He can’t remember anything, can’t remember who he’s married to, can’t remember where he is, he just can’t.

“It’s your husband, Peter. You married me two months ago. I live here. Please, put the knife down.”

Tony fumbles with the kitchen knife in his hand. The man sounds convincing, and it makes sense that Tony could score someone as hot as him.

The knife falls to the ground.

You don't need to pretend to be someone you're not

Cos it's not like I've never heard you fart and snore

And for some god forsaken reason I'm

Still here love like I've always been before

“You need to get help, bumblebee.”

The scene is so familiar to Tony, but instead of a baggie, Peter has a needle in his hand. It hurts seeing him with it, because he’s always prayed that his little angel would never come close to drugs.

“I will,” Tony grumbles, rubbing his strained eyes with his hand. Since when did he get so tired?

“No,” Peter says, placing the needle onto the marble counter top. “Professional help. Not ‘help’ from other crackheads. I want you to go to rehab.”

Tony’s blood runs cold.

And he'll say

It's not fair, It's not fair how much I love you

It's not fair cos you make me weep when I'm

Just trying to watch The Office with my yogurt

And she'll say

Oh how, oh how unreasonable

How unreasonably in love I am with everything you do

I'll spend my days so close to you cos if I'm

Standing next to you then maybe everyone will think I'm cool

***

How unfair, how unfair they'll sing as

They dance across the darling rooftop wreck

Watching Peter’s face light up when he sees the knit blanket spread out on the roof is worth everything.

“Wow,” He breathes as he looks at the picnic basket bursting with food and wine. Tony sways on his heels, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. He hopes Peter likes his little date he set up, as sort of a thank you for everything he’s done.

“D’ya like it? l know it’s, well, the roof.”

Peter laughs his real laugh, all bright and tinny and happy. It’s not his sad laugh when he has to drag Tony to the bath to scrub his bleeding arms, or his bitter laugh when Tony tries to convince him not to throw out his heroin stash.

“God, it’s so perfect,” Peter murmurs, cheeks rounded with a smile. Tony fumbles for his phone, and plays an old song that was Peter’s uncle’s favorite.

“Dance with me, baby?”

He'll trip and she'll pretend not to have seen,

Burying her head into his chest and

Clinging to the moment, 'where have you been?'

She'll whisper 'I've waited oh so long for you to come'

“I’ve missed this,” Peter mumbles as Tony sways him back and forth. “I’ve missed you.”

Tony smiles softly and drags his fingertips over the small of Peter’s back. He radiates warmth and sunshine. Tony will never ever let him go.

And as the stars above them hum and hear them

He'll turn to her and say 'that's what she said'

It's not fair, it's not fair how much I love you

It's not fair cos you make me ache you bastard

And she'll say

Oh how, oh how unreasonable

How unreasonably in love I am with everything you do

I'll spend my days so close to you cos if I'm stood here

“I love you, Tony. I’ll be right here when you get out.”

Tony smiles sadly, very close to bursting into tears.

“Promise?” He asks, voice hushed, as the rehab center is really fuckin’ quiet. The receptionist doesn’t pay any mind to them, but the nurse named Steve waits for them to finish.

“I promise,” Peter says, tears pricking the corner of his honey eyes. “I promise on my life.”

Tony takes his husband in his arms and squeezes him tight. When they pull away, his shirt is wet with Peter’s tears.

“Okay,” Tony says. He turns to the blonde nurse, wiping his sweaty palms on his jeans. “Okay. I’m ready.”

Steve smiles and gestures to the main staircase. He’s about to follow, but hesitantly looks to Peter.

“Go. I’ll be standing right here, waiting for you.”

Then I'm stood here

And I'll stand here

I'll stand here with you.

#starker #ironspider #tony x peter #my shit #angst #tw: hard drug use #tw: addiction #tw: abuse

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