#land of creation shatter

[boyfeminism]

ohh keep us updated on the age naming decision! i'm invested!

of course! this is like a very long term ongoing worldbuilding project that ive been pretty vague about online but im basically always Thinking About It. the names of the previous ages shifted even while writing that post so its a constantly building project

naming the age

[sadnymi]

「 ✦ cloud nine p2.✦ 」

Mattheo riddle × reader [part1]

Summary: The "jinx girl," as they call her, is said to bring bad luck. However, when Mattheo Riddle decides to get to know the school's most neglected girl and takes matters into his own hands, Y/N's life is turned upside down in a mere night.

Warnings:angst, smut, fluff

Words: 13.5k

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[ A Cry for Help (and Hippogriffs)]

Dear Uncle Ben ,

Consider this my official "You were absolutely right (but with way more heartbreak)" letter. Remember all those warnings you showered me with before I left for Hogwarts? Werewolves, Dementors, rogue Gillyweed incidents (honestly, who even uses that stuff anymore?) You covered the whole spectrum of nightmarish magical creatures. But why, oh why, did you neglect to warn me about charming Slytherins with a really really pretty smiles and the ability to shatter hearts ?

Yes, Uncle Ben, your favorite niece (and, let's be honest, only niece) has officially fallen from cloud nine and landed face-first in a puddle of disappointment. Remember Mattheo Riddle? The one with the eyes like melted chocolate and a smile that could disarm a grumpy Hippogriff? Turns out….well, you get the picture. My heart is in as many pieces as a poorly repaired Floo Network."

So, here's the thing, Uncle Ben . **I'm done. Hogwarts can keep its feasts, its Quidditch matches, and its overly enthusiastic Potions lessons.** I wouldn't be caught dead on the Hogwarts Express, and frankly, the Burrow isn't exactly calling my name right now either.

This is where you come in, my valiant (and hopefully broomstick-wielding) savior. **I need an extraction, Uncle Ben . A daring rescue. A grand exit that would make even Dumbledore raise an eyebrow.** Floo powder me out? Sneak me aboard a disguised Thestral? Honestly, at this point, I'd even settle for a well-timed Hippogriff stampede (though maybe not – those beaks look awfully sharp).

So please uncle Ben As soon as this letter reaches your extraordinary hands, pack your Niffler leash, your Newt-approved travel kettle, and anything else that might help

Your distraught (and slightly heartbroken) niece,

Y/N

P.S. Please bring some Bertie Bott's Every-Flavour Beans. Maybe a chocolate frog or two wouldn't hurt either.

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After folding the letter with care, I sealed it using a wax stamp adorned with a grumpy-looking Kneazle, a delightful creation from a talented first-year Hufflepuff. Placing it inside an owl-sized envelope addressed to "Benjamin Scamander, Ministry of Magical Creatures, Department for Beast Regulation and Control," I sent it off with a silent prayer for a speedy rescue.

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Y/N

Consider it done. Talon wasn't thrilled about the Beans (apparently, they don't quite mesh with his sophisticated palate), but the chocolate frogs seemed to appease him. Be ready by nightfall. We'll have a proper family reunion, Hippogriff style.

P.S. Don't worry about any "Hippogriff stampedes." Talon's surprisingly well-mannered (for the most part).

Love,

Uncle Ben

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After two blissful days away from Hogwarts at Uncle Ben's cozy cottage in the Welsh hills, I woke up to find him bustling about the room. Despite the comfort and serenity of our time together, I couldn't shake off the tears that stained his (probably very expensive) linens.

He lumbered in, a steaming mug clutched in his hand, followed by a bewildered-looking Billywig (apparently, they weren't exactly known for their graceful exits).

"Here," he said kindly, placing the mug on the bedside table. "Peppermint tea. Guaranteed to cure a broken heart… or at least numb it a bit."

I took a shaky sip, the warmth spreading through me like a gentle hug. Uncle Ben perched on the edge of the bed, concern evident in his gaze that battled with his usual amusement.

"Alright, spill it," he finally said, a hint of exasperation in his voice. "What's got you blubbering like a Bowtruckle caught in a rainstorm?"

I choked on a sob, wiping my nose with the back of my hand. "It's just… everything. Mattheo… the rumors… the whole thing feels so stupid."

"Stupid? Sweetheart, this is practically a textbook case of teenage wizarding drama!," Uncle Ben said with a chuckle.

"First, the rumors. Turns out Charlie Spinnet, fancies you and that by the way explains the sudden change in cologne and his haircut whenever he visits. But then instead of acting like a normal human being, he decided to spread those ridiculous stories about you being a jinx?"

I nodded, sniffling. "And then there's Riddle Jr.," Uncle Ben continued, his voice laced with a hint of disapproval. "Used you for a dare? Honestly, these Slytherins – where's the chivalry gone? Back in my day, we at least serenaded our crushes with a well-timed love potion, not a staged play."

"I know right? !" I cried, wiping away fresh tears, he come closer pulling me into a warm hug.

When the last tear finally dried, a heavy silence settled between us. My eyelids drooped, exhaustion pulling me under. "Uncle Ben," I mumbled, my voice thick with sleep, "Can I… can I leave Hogwarts?"

He pulled back slightly, his eyes searching mine. "Is that what you want, Y/N?"

"I don't… I don't want to see him, or them, or…" My voice trailed off, the thought of facing whispers and pitying glances unbearable.

He squeezed my hand gently. "There are other schools, Y/N. Places where you can learn, grow, and maybe even find someone who truly appreciates you."

A flicker of hope sparked within me. A fresh start? A chance to heal away from the prying eyes and judgmental whispers? "Do you think… could I transfer… maybe to Beauxbatons?"

Uncle Ben chuckled. "Beauxbatons? Now that's an interesting choice. But hey, if you fancy learning with a bunch of wand-waving fashionistas, who am I to say no?"

The crisp Welsh air whipped through my hair as I sat on the porch swing, watching the sun set over the rolling hills. Uncle Ben's cottage, nestled amongst ancient oaks, seemed even cozier with the warm, orange light bathing its stone walls.

Thankfully, he'd managed to smooth things over with my parents, convincing them it would be perfect for me to stay with him until I figured out what to do about school.

Weeks melted into each other, and a unsettling undercurrent began to ripple through the otherwise idyllic setting. Every boy who showed even a flicker of interest in me or mustered the courage to ask me out –vanished after our initial encounter. Poof. Gone.

Only to reappear the next day, looking sheepish and pale, with mumbled apologies for missing our planned date . "something came up" or a sudden "family emergency."

kind, awkward Liam, sporty William , even that quiet bookworm Ethan – they all faced the same fate , a freckled boy named Callum, practically leaped over a nearby toadstool with a yelp, his face blanching as if he'd seen a ghost. It was as though the sight of the bumpy amphibian unearthed a buried terror within him.

And it’s seems like anyone who would show any interest in me will face the same fate

Case in point: a particular book I had discussed with a boy who worked at the library and had also asked me out for a date. The next day, that very book was on uncle Ben leaving room the next day and I knew for sure that uncle Ben wasn’t the one who did that .

Curiosity piqued, I went to the library to inquire about the book's whereabouts, only to find the boy in a state of sheer terror. He avoided eye contact and stammered out a nervous apology, his fear palpable in the way he trembled. It was as if he had encountered something terrifying, something that left him traumatized overnight. Unsettled by the encounter, I sought help from another library assistant to locate the book I wanted. This time, the assistant was more than eager to assist, his eyes darting around nervously as if expecting something unexpected to happen again.

Weeks dragged by, each day a monotonous echo of the last.

As I wake up today a tear slipped down my cheek, tracing a warm path through the cool morning air. I cursed myself under my breath, blinking furiously to clear my vision. There it was again, the lingering echo of his touch, the warmth of his smile, all remnants of a cruel dream.

Damn it. I cursed myself under my breath, throwing the covers back with a huff. How dare I miss him? How dare my traitorous subconscious paint him in a loving light after everything? The betrayal, the lies, they were all still raw, a constant reminder of his deceit.

Feeling the need for some solace and quiet reflection, I decided to head to the library

The usually a comforting haven, was eerily silent. A prickle of unease crawled up my spine. Did the boy who worked here quit ? Thanks a lot, Mattheo.

Pushing open the library doors, I was greeted by an unsettling emptiness. Pushing the thought aside, I navigated the towering bookshelves, half expecting some kind of magical mishap – maybe a rogue pixie infestation? With a spine-tingling creak. An unsettling feeling wormed its way into my stomach. Surely Johnny, the cute boy who worked here, wouldn't leave the entire library unattended?

"Hello, Johnny?" I called out, my voice echoing eerily in the vast space. No answer. Great. Just fantastic.

Shrugging it off, I ventured deeper into the labyrinth of bookshelves. The silence pressed in on me, broken only by the soft pad of my footsteps. Halfway expecting a rogue Acromantula to drop from the ceiling or a mischievous pixie to trip me with a strategically placed shoelace, I navigated the towering stacks.

Suddenly, a loud creak pierced the silence. My heart lurched, and I spun around, wand instinctively halfway out of my pocket. The heavy library door swung shut with an ominous finality. For a moment, I stood frozen, every nerve on high alert. Was I alone?

and there he was ... His usual playful smirk was replaced by a furrowed brow and a flicker of something… hurt? Regret? It was a confusing cocktail that sent my carefully constructed facade teetering on the edge of collapse.

My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs, threatening to burst from my chest. My carefully crafted mask of indifference felt like it was cracking under the sheer force of seeing him.

the silence of the library seemed deafening, amplifying the chaotic symphony playing out inside me.

I plastered a smile on my face, hoping it came across as confident and not the terrified mess I truly felt. This was ridiculous. He was the one who lied and betrayed me, not the other way around. Yet, here I was, feeling like I was the one on trial.

"Dramatic much?" I spat, my voice laced with venom. "So what's the deal now, Riddle? Bored with your little toad transformation hobby? Decided to haunt the library instead?"

He gave me a slow once-over, his gaze lingering a beat too long. It sent a shiver down my spine, a confusing mix of anger and a vulnerability I desperately tried to suppress.

Folding my arms, I tried to project an air of annoyance. "Look, Riddle," I said, forcing a harsher tone than I felt. "Let's cut to the chase. Open the door and disappear."

As he took a tentative step towards me, the carefully constructed wall around my emotions started to crumble. His eyes held a depth of emotion I couldn't decipher – hurt? Regret? It was a confusing mix that threatened to unravel me.

"You never mentioned you were a Scamander," he murmured, his voice barely a whisper. The sound of it after all this time, even laced with the echoes of past pain, was a punch to the gut.

-well technically I was from my mother side but i never dared to say that to anyone afraid to bring shame to the family name , because I never felt like I deserved to.

Tears pricked at the back of my eyelids, a bittersweet smile tugging at the corner of my lips. "And you," I choked out, the words raw with hurt, "never mentioned being fucking liar . Seems like we're even, wouldn't you agree?"

he started to speak. "I know you don’t want to listen—"

Frustration bubbled over before he could finish his sentence. "Why are you even here, Riddle?" I snapped. "You know I don't want to hear your excuses."

His gaze held mine, unwavering despite the storm brewing in my own eyes.

"Stop staring at me like that!" I hissed, the vulnerability I desperately tried to hide threatening to spill over.

Desperate to break the tension, I lunged for the door, yanking on the handle. Panic surged as it remained stubbornly shut. "What's wrong with this stupid door?" I yelled, "We can't use magic outside Hogwarts!" I exclaimed, bewildered. "Did you do something to the door?" Kicking it with my foot in frustration.

Spinning back to face him, my voice trembled with a mix of fury and fear. "What did you do to those boys, Mattheo? Turned them into toads?"

A smirk played on his lips, a sight that only intensified my urge to lash out. "Not all of them," he countered, his voice laced with a hint of something… jealousy? "Why? Do you care about them?"

“Apparently I did “I challenged, my voice laced with a bitterness I couldn't hide, "That's why I agreed to go out with them in the first place."

His smugness evaporated, replaced by a desperate plea that sent a shiver down my spine. "Don't go to Beauxbatons, love," he pleaded, his voice barely a whisper, laced with such raw emotion it threatened to crack the dam of my anger ,considering his impressive stalking skills I wasn’t surprised he knew about that ..

"Don't call me that, Riddle," I choked out, squeezing my eyes shut to hold back the traitorous tears that welled up. When I opened them again, the sight that greeted me was my breaking point.

Hurt, confusion, and a flicker of something that looked suspiciously like longing swirled in his eyes. "Why - why did you keep calling me that? Why not say my name?" he asked, his voice thick with a pain that mirrored my own.

"It's just Riddle for me now ," I said, my voice cold, a desperate attempt to shield myself from the storm of emotions brewing within me.

"Please," he whispered, the word hanging heavy in the air. "Please don't go to Beauxbatons."

"Get out of my way," I snapped, my voice laced with a venom I barely recognized. "I won't say it again."

He took a hesitant step forward, his eyes pleading. "I'm not above begging," he said, his voice low and urgent. "I'll do anything you ask. You say you hate me, then hate me. Ruin my life. Do whatever will make you feel better, just do it in front of me. Stay at Hogwarts."

Shock rendered me speechless. "Don't do this," he continued, his voice cracking. "Not for me, but for you. Don't run away. If anyone deserves to leave Hogwarts, it's not you. Please, don't do this."

His words hung heavy in the air, each one a shard of truth that pierced the carefully constructed wall of anger I'd built around myself. "Let go of my hand, Mattheo," I whispered, not daring to look at him. He released me slowly, his touch a lingering ghost on my skin.

The silence stretched on, heavy and thick. Finally, I forced myself to meet his gaze. My own eyes, red-rimmed and tear-filled, mirrored the raw emotion in his. With a shaky breath, I whispered, "Open the door now , please."

He nodded, his face etched with pain. The door swung open silently, and for a moment, our eyes locked. Then, without a word, I turned and walked towards the door.

But before I reached the doorway, a new urgency filled his voice. "Y/N, wait!" He reached out a hand, but stopped himself before making contact. "I know I messed up. There's no excuse for what I did, but please believe me – I love you. And I'm not giving us up. I'll do whatever it takes to prove it to you."

The weight of his words hung in the air, a challenge and a plea rolled into one. My heart pounded a frantic rhythm against my ribs, Taking a deep. I turned and walked out, leaving Mattheo standing alone in the empty library.

Reaching Uncle Ben's cozy cottage, I fumbled with the latch, my vision obscured by a fresh wave of tears. The door creaked open to reveal Uncle Ben, his face creasing in concern at the sight of me. Before I could even think of a response, I was enveloped in his warm, familiar embrace.

"Merlin's beard, Y/N," he chuckled, his voice laced with concern, "what happened? Did you lose a duel with a particularly grumpy pixie?"

Pulling back, I managed a watery smile. "Something like that," I mumbled, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand. Uncle Ben's gaze narrowed, his playful demeanor replaced by a more serious one.

"You know, all this tears and sniffles could lead one to believe…"

He paused dramatically, dragging out the suspense. "You are not pregnant, are you?”

"Pregnant? Uncle Ben, seriously?"

He threw his head back and laughed, a booming sound that filled the room. "Just checking! Seriously that world won’t survive another riddle “

We sat in comfortable silence for a while, the only sound the crackling fire in the hearth.

"You know," he finally said, his voice gentle, "sometimes the heart wants what it wants, regardless of past hurts." He met my gaze, his eyes filled with a knowing warmth. "The question is, Y/N, what does yours truly want?"

"I don't really know," I admitted, my voice barely a whisper. "One thing's for sure, though. I'm done running. I can't keep letting fear dictate my life."

“Every time something gets hard, I pack my metaphorical bags and vanish. But this time… this time it feels different."

Tears welled up in my eyes, blurring my vision. "There's this anger inside me, this need for revenge," I confessed, letting out a shaky breath. "It scares me, Uncle Ben. "

Uncle Ben reached for me his hand warm and comforting on mine. "There's a difference, Y/N, between righteous anger and destructive vengeance," he said softly. "Anger can be a powerful motivator, a fuel that can propel you forward. But it's crucial to channel it, to use it to grow stronger, not to let it control you."

Turning to him, I met his gaze with a newfound determination. "So," I started, a mischievous glint sparkling in my eyes, "would you help me pack up my bags for Hogwarts? And maybe... with something 'Scamander related' ?"

A playful smile mirrored mine on his face. "Always up for a good mystery, Y/N," .

The Hogwarts Express journey wasn't the gauntlet of whispers and pointed fingers I'd braced myself for. The carriage felt eerily quiet, devoid of the usual gossipy chatter and giggling. A part of me wondered if this unsettling silence was Mattheo's doing.

My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs as I rounded the corner, the familiar brick facade of the school looming ahead. Taking a deep breath.

I saw him.

He was leaning against the oak tree by the entrance, a casual posture that couldn't quite hide the tension in his shoulders. His gaze was fixed on the school doors, and for a thrilling moment, I thought I might have imagined him there.

But then, our eyes met.

His breath hitched ever so slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing his features before a slow smile bloomed on his face. It wasn't a wide, dazzling grin, but a soft, genuine one that crinkled the corners of his eyes.

The next morning, a nervous energy thrummed through me. Gone was the urge to flee; instead, a steely determination burned bright. I arrived at Charms class, ridiculously early, senses sharp with focus.

Adrian Pucey sauntered in, brow furrowed. "Y/N? What are you doing here so early? Malfoy's the one meeting me," he said, surprise flickering in his eyes.

"Just eager for Charms," I replied coolly. "and you said Malfoy ? No idea, really”

Actually I was the one who wrote him the fake note with Malfoy’s name to come earlier.

He cleared his throat, avoiding my gaze. "Look, about what happened , believe me what Mattheo did to me after was enough to ——"

"Don't worry about it, Adrian," I interrupteda sly smile playing on my lips."Things happen."

His surprise deepened. "You...you forgive me that easily?"

Pulling a cupcake from my bag, I offered it. "Freshly baked. Want some?"

Hesitantly, he took a bite. "Sure, thanks."

"Did you know," I said casually, "Flobberworm milk compels truth?" I winked.

Stepping closer, cupcake in hand, I re-offered it. "Second chances deserve a second cupcake, wouldn't you say?"

He hesitated, then took another bite. "Thanks," he mumbled, cheeks warming.

"Speaking of truth-telling," I said, leaning in conspiratorially, "did you know the tears of a phoenix can be used to create a voice projection charm? Like, if I whispered something to a cupcake with phoenix tears baked in, and you ate it, you'd hear it in your mind ."

He blinked, clearly unsure whether to believe me or not.

"Curious, isn't it," I murmured, "the things you can learn when you spend your summer with magical creatures."

Adrian stammered, "Wh-what have you done?"

"Ever wonder what happens when a Hufflepuff marries a Slytherin?" I continued, savoring his confusion.

A playful glint entered my eyes. "Well, for one, someone might get a taste of their own medicine," I quoted my mother with a smirk.

He attempted nonchalance. "Kids would be too good for Slytherin, not quite Hufflepuff."

"And that," I said, a triumphant smile blooming, "is where things get interesting. Especially with a Scamander in the mix.”

I continued, a triumphant grin spreading across my face.“And what happens when you push a Scamander kid too far?" I continued, a triumphant grin spreading across my face. "They use their knowledge, their magical creatures... and maybe a touch of Slytherin cunning for a little revenge.

He backed away, eyes wide.

The bell clanged, shattering the playful tension between Adrian and me. Professor Flitwick,bustled in, his voluminous black robes billowing around him like a miniature storm cloud.

"Good morning, class!" he boomed, "Today, we delve into the fascinating art of Wandless Charms! A skill that separates the truly magical from the...well, let's just say it requires a certain finesse."

Professor Flitwick launched into a lively lecture, demonstrating simple levitation charms with a flourish. As he conjured a teacup to pirouette in the air, I noticed Adrian fidgeting in his seat. Leaning in, I whispered playfully, "Enjoying the class, are we, Pucey?"

He shot me a panicked glance, then mumbled something inaudible. Taking a deep breath, I decided to push my luck a little further. With a mischievous glint in my eyes, I mouthed, "Tell the truth about what you feel of this class ."

Suddenly, Adrian's hand shot up, waving wildly. Professor Flitwick, momentarily distracted, peered over his thick spectacles at the unexpected outburst.

"Mr. Pucey?" he inquired, a quizzical eyebrow raised.

"Professor," Adrian blurted out, his voice surprisingly loud in the quiet room, "I hate Charms! It's useless and frankly, you're a terrible teacher!"

Suddenly, a loud, booming voice erupted from Adrian's mouth, echoing through the entire classroom. "I HATE CHARMS! It's the most useless class ever, I CHEATED on the exam LAST YEAR, and And I've been doing everything just to be the center of attention. I've lied, manipulated, and stepped on others to make myself look better."!"

The entire class erupted in stunned silence, followed by a wave of uncontrollable laughter. Adrian's jaw hung slack, his eyes wide with horror.

Professor Flitwick, his face purple with rage, sputtered, his fist raised in the air. "Mr. Pucey! Ten points from Slytherin! Detention for a month! And perhaps a visit to Madam Pomfrey to check your sanity!"

Adrian sunk deeper into his seat, the laughter morphing into snickers and whispers

The laughter slowly faded, replaced by the echoes of Professor Flitwick's threats. I couldn't help but stifle a triumphant smirk. Adrian practically resembled a puddle of misery in his seat, the color completely drained from his face. Mission accomplished.

Just as I reached the aisle, a hand shot out, grabbing my waist in a surprisingly firm grip. Before I could yelp in surprise, two strong hands was on either side of me , pinning me against the cool stone wall. I found myself staring into the eyes of none other than Mattheo .

"That," he murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down my spine, "was fucking hot."

He brushed a stray strand of hair behind my ear with his thumb, Our gazes locked, the air crackling with sudden awareness.

My gaze remained steely, unflinching. "You liked that?" I challenged, my voice laced with a dangerous edge.

"I like everything you do," he replied with a smirk.

"Good," I said, leaning in closer, my voice barely a whisper. "Because that was just child's play. compared to what I'm planning for you, Riddle"

The bell echoed through the hallway, shattering the moment. Mattheo reluctantly released me, a hint of something akin to fascination flickering in his eyes. "Can’t wait my love ," he winked, a mischievous glint sparkling within, before disappearing into the throng of students.

My success with Adrian fueled a mischievous fire within me. The thrill of using magical creatures for a little payback was intoxicating. Professor Flitwick's class became my testing ground, a petri dish for brewing delightful chaos.

Every person who participated in the stupid play faced my revenge; none escaped unscathed.

The once dreaded nickname "Jinx Girl" had faded into a distant memory. This year, I was Lady Luck, a title whispered with a mix of awe and amusement. My string of successful pranks, each meticulously crafted with a dash of magical creature mischief, had transformed my reputation.

The whispers started subtly, like the rustling of leaves in the forbidden forest. "Did you see what happened ? Y/N's behind it, for sure!" or "Isn't it strange how everything's turned around for her lately?" It was a subtle shift, but the air crackled with a new awareness. The "Jinx Girl" label was fading, replaced by a more intriguing title - Lady Luck.

One gloomy afternoon, as I settled into a plush armchair by the crackling fire, a hesitant knock echoed through the room.

"Come in," I called out, peering over the worn pages of a Charms textbook.

The door creaked open, revealing a sheepish-looking Charlie . His blonde hair seemed to lose its usual vibrancy under the dim light, and his freckles stood out starkly against his pale face.

"Y/N," he mumbled, scuffing his worn boots on the floor. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

"Sure, Charlie," I said, patting the empty space beside me.

He shuffled in place, fiddling with his wand. "It's... well, everything. The rumors, the play, everything."

“ Look, Y/N, I'm so incredibly sorry. I know I shouldn't have spread those rumors. I... honestly, I was a complete idiot."

"I thought," Charlie continued, his voice laced with shame, "that if I spread those rumors, every boy would stay away from you. I didn't think it would get this bad."

A mixture of anger and curiosity bubbled within me. "Why, Charlie?" I asked, my voice calmer than I felt.

He took a deep breath, his gaze filled with regret. "I… I like you, Y/N a lot since we were just kids but you never noticed me ," he confessed, his voice barely a whisper. "And when I saw you with Mattheo, well, and after everything he did..."

He hung his head. "And the play," he mumbled. "It was me. I told Adrian about your past. I was so angry… jealous, really. After seeing you with Mattheo."

A wave of emotions washed over me. Anger for his actions, confusion for his feelings, and a spark of something else – mattheo wasn’t the one who told them about what happened .

Taking another deep breath, I met Charlie's gaze. "Those rumors hurt," I admitted, my voice firm but gentle. "And the play…" I trailed off, choosing my words carefully. "It was a low blow, Charlie. But…" I hesitated, searching for the right words.

"But you were scared," I finished, a hint of empathy softening my tone. "Jealous, even. It's okay to feel those things, Charlie."

He looked up, a flicker of hope igniting in his blue eyes. "Do you… forgive me?"

I studied him for a moment, taking in his genuine regret. "I do," I said finally. "But forgiveness doesn't erase the consequences. You hurt me, Charlie, and you hurt others I will never forget that ."

Charlie's shoulders slumped. "I know," he said, his voice filled with remorse. "I'll do anything to make it up to you."

I smiled faintly. "Please don’t do anything a normal apologize would do ."

Months had passed since I last set foot in the library, and the scent of aged paper and leather, a familiar comfort that once soothed my soul, now felt laced with a bittersweet pang. Yet, stepping back into the hushed haven felt like tumbling through a time warp. The scent of aged paper, the rhythmic tick of the grandfather clock, even the worn patches on the armchairs – everything whispered memories of Mattheo, both sweet and stinging.

the silence thrummed with echoes of hushed conversations and stolen glances. Memories of stolen moments with Mattheo – whispered secrets amongst the stacks, fingers brushing as we reached for the same book – played in a loop behind my closed eyelids.

A sigh escaped my lips as the heavy oak door shut with a soft thud behind me. The vastness of the library stretched before me, empty shelves yawning like forgotten dreams. No bustling librarians, no chattering students hunched over dusty tomes. Just me, adrift in a sea of silence, the weight of the past clinging to my every step.

But then I saw him.

Mattheo stood near the Charms section, a sly smirk twisting his lips. His eyes, usually filled with a cool amusement, held a challenge this time. A knot of tension formed in my stomach.

"You forgive him so easily," he drawled, his voice low enough to carry only between the towering bookshelves.

He gestured towards an empty space beside him, a clear invitation. My pulse quickened. Part of me wanted to whirl around and storm out, to deny him the satisfaction of any reaction. But another, more curious part, craved to know what game he was playing.

With a measured breath, I sauntered towards him, my chin held high. "Forgive who?" I asked, feigning ignorance.

He raised an eyebrow, the smirk deepening. "Come now, Y/N," he said, his voice a silky murmur. "Don't tell me you haven't had a heart-to-heart with Spinnet already."

"What do you really want, Riddle?" I demanded, my voice trembling with a mix of hurt and confusion.

Mattheo took a shaky breath, his hand reaching out hesitantly before retracting. "I can't do this anymore, Y/N," he confessed, his voice raw. "I thought if I gave you some space..."

"Space?" I scoffed, tears welling up again. "Space? You call watching me all summer, space? I know what you did to those boys, and then threatening everyone in this school on the first day to not talk or do anything to me space??" I yelled, tears streaming down my face.

The words tumbled out, fueled by a wellspring of hurt I hadn't even realized I was holding onto. "I don't understand, Mattheo! I don't really understand. I've dealt with difficult things before, truly awful things, but none of them hurt as much as this betrayal. Why? Why can't I get over it? Why does it feel like someone ripped open my soul and stomped on it a million times? Then it hit me. You did that, Mattheo. You."

My voice broke, replaced by a choked sob. "You showed me a love I never knew existed, a love I never dared to dream of , showered me with affection and tenderness. You touched parts of my soul I never knew were there. Every inch of me, every piece of me – my heart, my mind, my soul – had your name written all over it , Every fiber of my being, every beat of my heart, seemed to have your name etched upon it. And then, you snatched it all away.. They say it's better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all, but that's a lie. Because feeling your love, then losing it, is the worst pain I've ever experienced.”

The air crackled between us, thick with unspoken emotions and the sting of my tears. Mattheo inched closer, his warmth a stark contrast to the turmoil within me. I could feel his breath whisper against my cheek, sending a shiver down my spine.

"Y/N," he pleaded, his voice husky with emotion ."I know you don't believe me," he confessed, his red- eyes searching mine .

“but this feeling... it terrifies me. I've never felt like this before. Never cared about anyone but myself and Enzo . But then you came along. The purest thing I've ever have , the closest I'll ever get to heaven."

His words hung heavy in the air, a stark contrast to the arrogant facade he usually presented.

"I miss you," he continued, his voice raw with longing. "I miss what we had. The way your smile could light up a room, the way your cheeks would flush the prettiest shade of pink ."

He paused, his hand hovering hesitantly near mine. "I can't do this anymore. This game... it's torture. Every stolen glance, every witty banter, it just makes the truth harder to bear. Tell me what you want me to do. Name it, anything. But please, just end this charade. It's killing me “

A tremor ran through him, and for the first time, I saw a flicker of genuine fear in his eyes.

He looked at me for a second, taking a shaky breath. Then, the words tumbled out, raw and unfiltered. "I love you," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I'm not afraid to say it anymore. I regret not approaching you properly, i regret taking that stupid dare ."

His gaze held mine, desperate for any sign of reciprocation. "You asked if everything between us was a lie," he continued, his voice low. "But listen to me now. You're the truest thing that's ever happened to me. I love you, Y/N. And I can't stand there watching you, knowing I can't hold you. I never wanted to hurt you, And I promise, I'll never let anyone hurt you again"

My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drum solo in the quiet library. Every fiber of my being yearned to believe him, to reach out and melt into his embrace. But the betrayal was still fresh, a gaping wound that pulsed with pain.

"I can't trust you anymore, Mattheo," I choked out, the words a bitter truth. "Even if I want to, I can't. Every word you say feels like another lie. I hate you," I confessed, the words ripping from my throat. "I hate you so much for making me want to forgive you. I hate you because I love you so much."

"Don't cry," he pleaded, his voice thick with a desperate sincerity. "I'll do anything. Just say it, and I'll do it."

The promise hung in the air, tempting and dangerous. I reached up and covered his hand with mine, the warmth seeping into my chilled skin. Despite the storm raging inside me, a small part of me craved the comfort of his touch, the solace of forgiveness.

"Then let me go, Mattheo," I whispered, the words tasting like ashes in my mouth. "Let me go. Don't approach me. Don't try to fix anything. Just let me go."

The pain in his eyes mirrored the turmoil within me. "Is that what you truly want?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

I could only nod, a fresh wave of tears cascading down my face. Every part of me ached to forget the past, to bury my head in his chest and feel the familiar rhythm of his heartbeat. But the betrayal was a wall I couldn't climb over, not yet.

"Then I will do it ,love." He brushed away my tears one last time, his touch lingering for a heartbreaking moment before he took a step back. The pain in his eyes was a something i could never forget.

He gave me one last, lingering look before turning and leaving the library, the heavy oak door closing with a finality that echoed the slamming shut of my own heart. The air hung heavy with unspoken emotions, the weight of my decision pressing down on me.

My revenge, I realized with a bitter pang, tasted worse than Flobberworm milk and phonics tears on cupcakes. But in that moment, I didn't realize that in punishing him, I was condemning myself to an equally excruciating torture

Days bled into weeks, each one stretching out with the agonizing slowness of a Dementor's kiss. What I had envisioned as a sweet victory – Mattheo squirming under the weight of my indifference – felt more like a self-inflicted Cruciatus Curse.

The once-familiar halls of Hogwarts became a minefield of awkward silences and stolen glances. Every corner held the ghost of his laughter, every shadowed alcove whispered echoes of his touch. Avoiding him became a constant, exhausting dance.

In Herbology, Professor Sprout droned on about the magical properties of Bubotuber pus, but all I could focus on was the empty space beside me. It had become a glaring absence, a constant reminder of the warmth that used to be there.

Across the room, I could feel his gaze burning into me. But when I dared to steal a glance, his head would be bent diligently over his textbook, his jaw clenched tight. It was a practiced act of indifference, a mask that mirrored the one I wore.

Lunch in the Great Hall was an ordeal. I'd scan the long Slytherin table, searching for any sign of him. Relief would flood me when I wouldn't see him, only to be replaced by a hollow pang of disappointment.

One day, as I shuffled through the crowded hallway, I felt a presence looming behind me. My heart hammered a frantic tattoo against my ribs. I quickened my pace, clutching my books tighter, willing myself to disappear. But the presence remained, a silent taunt.

Finally, unable to bear the suspense any longer, I chanced a peek over my shoulder. My stomach lurched. It was him, his face a stony mask, his eyes fixed on a point far beyond me. He sidestepped me with practiced ease, not even a flicker of recognition in his gaze.

The charade was relentless. In Potions, Professor Snape's scathing remarks seemed muted compared to the deafening silence between Mattheo and me. We brewed our Draught of Peace with a silent intensity, each movement a calculated act of avoidance.

The whispers started subtly, like the rustle of leaves in a slight breeze. "Did you see them? Not a single word!" one student would murmur to another. Soon, the whispers morphed into open stares, the entire school buzzing with the unspoken tension between us.

It was as if by avoiding each other, we'd created a spectacle far more dramatic than any confrontation could have been. The unspoken longing, the raw emotions hanging heavy in the air – it was a story more captivating than any Quidditch match.

What hurt the most ? I couldn't escape the feeling that everyone else was living their lives, while mine was trapped in this agonizing purgatory of unspoken emotions and a love I couldn't embrace or deny.

The silence between us was deafening, a reminder of the bond we'd shattered. My carefully crafted revenge felt hollow, a Pyrrhic victory that left me as desolate as the empty space beside him. The ache in my chest had little to do with anger and everything to do with a longing I couldn't name.

Then came the worst part. It wasn't just the awkward silences or stolen glances at him interacting with others. It was the way the girls around me perked up, their smiles a bit too wide, their laughter a bit too forced. They saw the distance between Mattheo and me, the void where his presence used to be, as an open invitation.

Professor Sprout's well-meaning attempt to pair us up for a project backfired spectacularly.

Mattheo, his usual smirk replaced by a practiced indifference, meticulously tended to his Venomous Tentacula while I wrestled with a particularly stubborn Flobberworm. The silence between us was thicker than the sap dripping from the Bubotuber pus. We moved with a practiced efficiency, avoiding eye contact, our movements a painful ballet of unspoken hurt and when he was finally done with his part he left without even glancing at me .

Across the room, laughter erupted. A pretty brunette girl, Astoria Greengrass, leaned in conspiratorially towards Mattheo, a giggle escaping her lips. He threw his head back, a genuine smile lighting up his face, a sight that sent a spike of jealousy through me.

My Flobberworm wriggled free, sending a spray of dirt flying. Professor Sprout's raised eyebrow and stern lecture were a welcome distraction from the scene unfolding across the room. The warmth in Mattheo's laughter, the ease with which he interacted with Astoria, was a sharp contrast to the icy distance he maintained with me.

The worst part, however, wasn't the girls themselves. It was the way they looked at me – a mixture of pity and smug satisfaction. Their gazes seemed to say, "See? Now you see what you had and threw away."

Another day, another ordeal. During Charms, a boy from Ravenclaw, Michael Corner, sidled up to me, his voice a steady stream of nervous chatter. He droned on about the upcoming Quidditch match, his words blurring into background noise.

Across the room, I stole a glance at Matteo. He sat slumped in his chair, his gaze fixed on the textbook in front of him. But a flicker of movement caught my eye. His jaw clenched slightly, knuckles turning white as he gripped the book. He didn't turn towards me, didn't acknowledge Michael's presence. It was as if I, and the boy beside me, simply ceased to exist.

A pang of something akin to disappointment shot through me. Was this truly what he’s doing ? erasing me from his memory? The silence between us, once deafening, now felt suffocating. I craved a reaction, anything to break the monotony of our charade.

Days bled into weeks, each one a monotonous echo of the last. Lunch in the Great Hall was an exercise in self-torture. I sat with some girls from my class , their cheery chatter a stark contrast to the turmoil within me.

Across the room, Mattheo sat with a group of Slytherins, his usual arrogance back in place. He spoke in hushed tones, his eyes scanning the room. Did they land on me? I couldn't tell, wouldn't allow myself to hope.

Suddenly, Draco Malfoy sauntered over, a smirk playing on his lips. He leaned in, whispering something in Mattheo's ear, his gaze flickering towards me. A flicker of something – anger, maybe? – crossed Mattheo's face before he schooled his features back into indifference.

Draco's smirk widened, punctuated by a loud laugh. The sound grated on my nerves, a confirmation that he had successfully moved on, leaving me drowning in the wreckage of our broken connection.

The once vibrant halls of Hogwarts had become a constant reminder of what I'd lost. The whispers, the pointed looks, the morbid fascination with our unspoken war – it all felt suffocating. The silence between us, once deafening, now resonated with a profound emptiness.

In my quest for revenge, I had succeeded in destroying not just him, but a part of myself. And as I stared across the Great Hall, the bitter truth settled in – the only thing more unbearable than his betrayal was his indifference.

The ache in my core pulsed with every stolen glance at Matteo. A single, accidental lock of eyes during Charms was all it took to reignite the inferno I'd thought I'd extinguished. The familiar heat bloomed in my cheeks, spreading downwards, a stark reminder of the raw, physical connection we shared.

Driven by an insatiable hunger, I succumbed to temptation, seeking solace in the darkness of night. With trembling hands, I slipped my fingers inside my pants, yearning for the touch of his hands upon my skin. But no matter how fervently I imagined his touch, it was futile, a poor substitute for the real thing.

His absence loomed large in my mind, a constant reminder of the void he had left behind. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes as I grappled with the overwhelming sense of loss, longing for the warmth of his embrace.

In the silence of my room, I cried myself to sleep, the weight of my unfulfilled desires weighing heavily upon me. No matter how hard I tried to bury them, the flames of passion continued to burn, fueled by the memory of his touch.

The next day crawled by, each tick of the clock echoing the heavy weight in my chest. Just as I contemplated escaping to the familiar comfort of the Slytherin common room, a familiar figure emerged from the shadows of the deserted hallway – Enzo.

His usual carefree air was replaced by a somberness that mirrored my own. "Y/N," he started hesitantly, his voice uncharacteristically unsure.

"Enzo, hi," I greeted nervously. "Are you... are you alright?"

He paused, his gaze flickering with concern. "I need to talk to you," he finally said, his voice low.

"Sure," I whispered, a nervous smile tugging at my lips.

He gestured towards an empty classroom beside us. We entered, the silence suddenly thick and heavy.

"It's about Mattheo," he began, his voice dropping even lower.

My heart hammered against my ribs,

"What about him?" I managed, my voice barely above a whisper.

Enzo took a deep breath, his gaze flickering with an emotion I couldn't decipher. "He — He has a really dangerous disease Y/N," he blurted out, the words heavy in the quiet hallway.

Enzo's words hit me like a Stunning Spell. My breath caught in my throat, the air suddenly thick with a suffocating weight. Disease? Mattheo? It couldn't be true. The anger that had simmered within me for weeks flickered, threatened by a spark of something else – a flicker of fear, of a terrible, dawning realization.

"Disease?" I choked out, the word barely a whisper.

Enzo nodded. "Serious. He doesn't know how long..." He trailed off, his voice thick with emotion. "But he's getting worse every day. Refused to tell you himself, stubborn git."

Tears welled up in my eyes, blurring Enzo's concerned face. "He never said anything," I choked out, my voice thick with emotion. "He wouldn't even look at me."

Enzo sighed, a deep rumble that spoke of a burden shared. "He's stubborn, that one. Especially when it comes to protecting you “

"But how could he not tell me?" I whispered, my voice barely audible over the pounding of my heart.

"He loves you, Y/N," Enzo said, his voice firm. "More than anything, I swear. I've never seen him care about anyone the way he cares about you. I knew what he did was unforgivable , but his feelings for you… they're real."

A sob escaped my lips, tears blurring my vision. The image of Mattheo, his usual arrogance replaced by vulnerability, echoed in my mind.

"you deserves to know," Enzo said, his gaze unwavering. "Even if you can't forgive him, even if you hate him… you deserve to know the truth."

Tears streamed down my face, a mixture of grief and confusion.

"He'll do anything for you, you know," Enzo continued. "Hiding this… it's killing him. More than the illness itself."

Another sob escaped my lips. The anger, the carefully constructed walls of indifference – it all seemed so petty now, dwarfed by the weight of his illness. All this time, I'd been punishing him, punishing myself, while he…

Panic clawed at my throat. "How bad is it? How long…?" My voice wouldn't form the question.

Enzo shook his head, a grim expression on his face. "I don't know all the details, Y/N. He wouldn't tell me much. But he's getting worse, and by the way there's no cure."

The weight of the revelation pressed down on me. The silent war we waged, the stolen glances filled with unspoken emotions – it all seemed so meaningless now. All I wanted to do was see him, to hold him, to tell him… what?

Looking at Enzo, tears streaming down my face, I whispered, " Where is he?"

Enzo hesitated, then pointed towards the forest . "He's usually there, you know where , trying to clear his head."

"Thank you, Enzo," I croaked, my voice thick with emotion. "For telling me."

Enzo nodded, a hint of a sad smile gracing his lips. "Just… don't let pride get in the way, alright? Talk to him. Figure things out he needs you now more than ever. ." He squeezed my shoulder before turning and leaving me alone with the weight of this revelation.

Enzo's words echoed in my head, each syllable a hammer blow against my chest. Disease. Limited time. The anger, the carefully constructed walls of resentment, all crumbled under the weight of this revelation. Tears blurred my visionI raced through the castle corridors, legs burning, a primal urge driving me forward.

I didn't care about the stares, the confused whispers that followed. I only cared about getting to him , My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs, each beat punctuated by a sob that tore through me.

The familiar path to the Forbidden Forest became a blur. Thorns ripped at my robes, branches snagged at my hair, but I didn't feel them. All I felt was a desperate need to reach him, to hold him.

A sharp sting on my knee brought me back to the present. I looked down to see a crimson stain blooming on my robes, a tear in the fabric revealing a scraped knee. But the pain was a mere whisper compared to the agony twisting in my gut.

The memory of his secret place, fueled my desperate run. It was a sanctuary he'd revealed only to me, Now, it was my beacon, the only place I could imagine him seeking solace in his time of despair.

Bursting through the familiar curtain of trees, I skidded to a halt, chest heaving, tears streaming down my face. My vision swam, but I could just make out the clearing, bathed in the soft glow of the setting sun.

Reaching the clearing, I pushed aside the concealing ivy with trembling hands. The familiar wooden door stood before me, mockingly still. I flung it open, ignoring the groan of rusted hinges.

Pushing the pain aside, I scrambled to my feet, ignoring the blood seeping through my torn robes. The hidden entrance, disguised by a tangle of ivy, materialized before my tear-filled eyes.

With trembling hands, I cleared the vines, pushing through the narrow opening. The familiar scent of earth and damp stone greeted me, a small comfort in the storm raging inside.

Inside the dimly lit chamber, my breath caught in my throat, with my ragged sobs as I stumbled towards the bed. Mattheo peacefully sleeping on , his chest rising and falling with shallow breaths.

"Mattheo!" I shrieked, the name a desperate plea that tore through the silence. "Mattheo, wake up!"

He stirred at the sound, his brow furrowing in confusion. His eyes fluttered open, blinking away the remnants of sleep. his eyes widening in shock before softening at the sight of my tear-streaked face,the raw panic radiating from my very being.

"Y/N?" he rasped, his voice weak. "What's wrong? What happened?"

Before he could finish his question, I was on him, collapsing onto the bed in a heap of sobs and frantic whispers

His arms wrapped around me. held me close, his voice a soothing murmur against my ear. " it's okay, love," he whispered, his voice thick with concern. "What happened? Are you hurt? Tell me what's wrong, baby did someone…" he trailed off, his voice hardening with a possessive anger."

The sound of those endearment words, so unexpected after weeks of cold silence, sent a fresh wave of tears cascading down my cheeks.

"Don't cry, love," he murmured, his voice thick with concern. "Tell me what's wrong. Did someone hurt you? Did someone say something?"

His gaze dropped to the injury, "Oh Merlin," he breathed, his voice laced with self-reproach. "How did you… why did you come here like this?"

My voice, when it finally came, was a choked sob. Words tumbled out in a rush, a jumbled mess of emotions. "Enzo… he told me… you're sick… I… I thought…"

Mattheo's brow furrowed further. He reached out, his touch tentative on my arm. "Slow down, love," he murmured. "What did Enzo tell you?"

I took a shaky breath, wiping at the tears blurring my vision. "That you… that you had a dangerous illness… that you didn't have long."

A bewildered frown creased his forehead. illness? What illness ? “

"Don't lie to me, Mattheo," I pleaded, tears welling up again. "He said you were… you were dying."

"Enzo that fucker ," he muttered, shaking his head . "He must have been trying to get us to talk." He let out a dry, humorless laugh, the sound sending a fresh wave of pain through me. "He always did have a dramatic flair."

My entire body tensed. Was he lying? My gaze darted across his face, searching for any sign of truth.

"But Enzo wouldn't lie about something like that," I protested, my voice shaky. "He was so worried. He said you loved me, that I deserved to know."

His arms tightened around me "Well, Enzo got one thing right then,"

"So there's no illness?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Mattheo cupped my face in his hand, wiping away a stray tear with his thumb. "No illness, love. Just a heartbroken fool who did something incredibly stupid." His gaze softened, searching mine. "You believed him?"

Shame burned in my throat. "I… I was scared,"

Mattheo's expression softened. "Scared about me?" he asked gently, his thumb brushing against my cheek in a soothing gesture.

I nodded, unable to meet his gaze as tears threatened to spill over once more.

“you don't have to be scared anymore. I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere."A wave of relief washed over me as I melted into his embrace, feeling the weight of my fears slowly lift from my shoulders. In his arms

his playful smile fading, replaced by a sharp concern that etched lines on his face his gaze flicked down to my knee

"Oh Merlin," he muttered, kneeling down to examine the wound. A crimson stain was blossoming on my knee .

"It looks worse than it is, probably," I mumbled, trying to sound nonchalant. But the wince I couldn't quite suppress betrayed me.. He knelt beside me, his touch sending a familiar spark through my body despite the circumstances.

"You shouldn't have run like that," he said gently, his voice laced with a hint of disapproval. "Look at you, all bruised and bleeding."

My cheeks burned, not just from the sting of the wounds, but from the unexpected tenderness in his voice. "I… I just needed to see you," I mumbled, looking away.

A soft chuckle escaped his lips. "Well, you certainly made an entrance," he said, a hint of amusement returning to his eyes. But his smile faltered as he focused on my wounds .

"Here, let me get you cleaned up," he said, his voice firm.

He rummaged through the surprisingly well-stocked medical kit hidden in the corner, pulling out vials of glistening potions and bandages. The air filled with the pungent scent of dittany as he carefully cleaned my wounds, his touch surprisingly gentle.

Each swipe of the cloth sent a jolt through me, a confusing mix of pain and a strange kind of pleasure. Shame battled with a newfound hope as I met his gaze. The anger and hurt that had clouded his eyes for weeks were gone, replaced by a warmth that sent a flutter to my stomach.

"There," he said finally, tying the last bandage with a practiced ease. "That should hold for now."

As he pulled back, our eyes met, and for a fleeting moment, the air crackled with unspoken words. The silence between us, once heavy with tension, thrummed with a new energy.

"I'm so sorry for barging in like that," I mumbled, looking away.

"Hey," he said, his voice firm but kind. " You scared the daylights out of me, but I'm glad you're here."

"Do__Do you still care about me?" I blurted out, the question tumbling out before I could stop it. Tears welled up again, threatening to spill over.

Mattheo's eyes widened for a moment, then a flicker of something warm crossed them.

"Like... are you kidding me?" he said, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. "Of course I do."

My heart hammered in my chest. "But I thought..." I trailed off, unsure how to voice the tangled mess of emotions that had been churning inside me.

"You thought I moved on?" he finished, his voice gentle.

I nodded, ashamed of the doubt that had festered for so long.

"I was giving you space," he explained, "the space you said you needed. But believe me, it was killing me."

"Merlin's beard, Y/N. Every time some bloke even glanced your way, I felt like I might hex the lot of them."

My cheeks burned. As I laughed at what he said

his gaze lingering on my lips. "I swear I didn't tell anyone about what you told me that night," he murmured, his voice low and sincere. "I had nothing to do with the play. ,I didn't know they were going to do that I only didn't want you to go because it was connected to the dare and I thought if we just stayed away, it would all blow over."

"I know," I whispered, my voice thick with emotion. "Charlie told me."

his messy hair softened by the dim light, his jaw shadowed with a hint of stubble, but his gaze held that same familiar warmth that had always sent butterflies fluttering in my stomach.

He looked so good, so heartbreakingly handsome, a possessiveness rising in my chest. He was mine

I couldn't hold back any longer. With a soft whimper, I closed the gap between us, my lips meeting his in a kiss that was both desperate and tender.

His lips were warm and soft, molding perfectly to mine.The taste of him – a mixture of mint and something uniquely Mattheo – flooded my senses, sending a jolt through my body.

Mattheo responded instantly, pulling me closer until I was practically settling me on his lap , melting into him . His hands slid down my back.

He held me tightly, as if afraid I might disappear, and the urgency in his kiss mirrored my own. It was a hungry kiss, filled with a raw passion that had been simmering beneath the surface for too long.

We explored each other's mouths with a newfound intensity, the taste of him igniting a fire deep within me. Our tongues danced together, a silent conversation filled with unspoken promises and a desperate need for more.

He pulled back slightly, his breath ragged. His eyes, shimmering with desire, held me captive.My own hands tangled in his hair . "I missed you," he rasped, his voice thick with emotion.

The words echoed my own feelings. God, how I'd missed him.

He kissed me again the kiss deepened, a desperate plea for connection after weeks of longing. My hips instinctively swayed against him, seeking a friction that had been absent for too long. The ache in my core, a dull throb that had plagued me, seemed to lessen with each press of my body against his,It felt like a dam had broken, a release after a drought.

But then I felt it – a firmness pressing against my core, a sensation that sent a jolt through my system. It overwhelmed my senses, momentarily drowning the delicious haze of the kiss. As my body brushed against it again, a guttural moan escaped Mattheo's lips. Reality slammed back, and I tore myself away from the kiss, eyes wide with a sudden realization.

"I'm so sorry," I stammered, the words tumbling out in a jumbled mess. "I didn't realize…" my cheeks a fiery red. "Does it hurt you too?"

"Too?"He tilted his head, a playful smile on his face ."What do you mean, baby? What's hurting you?

"I-I just..." I stammered, my cheeks burning like embers. "I don't know... It's just..." Words failed me completely.

His playful smirk deepened the pit in my stomach. "Yeah?" he prompted, his confusion tinged with amusement.

"That would be…" My voice dropped to a barely audible murmur. "That ache, and it won't just go away, no matter what I try."

He chuckled, the sound warm and comforting. "Oh, my love. That sounds awful." He brushed a fallen strand of hair away from my face, his touch sending a fresh wave of heat through me.

"Tell me, love," he whispered, his voice husky with desire, "where does this ache come from?"

before I could confess, a new sensation stole the air from my lungs. His lips, warm and insistent, found my neck again

"Where was that ache coming from, love?" he repeated, his lips soft against my skin, eliciting a moan of pleasure.

"Tell me," he urged, cupping my breast while peppering kisses all over my neck. "I'm still waiting for you to answer me, my love," his voice dominant, commanding my attention.

"It was... down there," I admitted. "It won't go away, no matter what I try," I continued, feeling exposed.

His lips found a sensitive spot behind my ear, sending a jolt of pleasure through me. "And what have you tried to do to make it go away?" he murmured, his voice turning dark .

"I... I tried to do what you did to me before, but I couldn't," I whispered, tears welling in my eyes, their origin unclear. He kissed them away, his lips tender against my skin.

"You tried to touch yourself? Tried to recreate what I did to you? And who were you thinking about while doing it, darling?" he asked, his voice thick with desire.

"You... it was you. I also imagined it was you, but it didn't work," I confessed.

"You're going to be the death of me," he murmured, kissing away the last of my tears. Then he continued, his voice low and seductive, "We need to do something about that then , Would you let me kiss it better?"

Unable to tear my gaze from his, I simply nodded, my voice stolen by the intensity in his eyes.

"Words, love,I need to hear your voice "

"Yes, please," I whispered, the words barely escaping my lips.

The kiss that followed was possessive, a searing claim . When he finally pulled away, his eyes burned with a dark intensity.

"Good," he breathed, his voice thick with desire . "Because I'm going to worship every inch of that beautiful body. Every. Inch. Of. You."

With a tenderness that contrasted with the raw desire in his voice, he gently laid me down on the bed. The plush fabric felt cool against my flushed skin as anticipation coiled in the pit of my stomach.

His fingers brushed against my collarbone as he meticulously unfastened each button of my shirt. His gaze never left mine, the intensity in his eyes sending shivers down my spine.

"That Ravenclaw boy, Michael Corner, what was he telling you?"

His question jolted me back to reality. I blinked, momentarily confused, then recalled, "Oh, right, Michael. He was talking about the next Quidditch match. I didn't know you noticed."

A wry smile played on his lips. "Oh, believe me, I did," he said, his voice a low rumble. "Every. Single. Second. Especially when his eyes kept flickering back over here."

His gaze dropped pointedly to the space where my shirt now hung open, and a blush crept up my neck.

"Believe me," he whispered,"my eyes were on you the entire time."

Heat pulsed through me as his kisses trailed down my neck, each one a spark igniting a fire within. I squeezed my eyes shut, a strangled moan caught in my throat. Nervous flutters danced in my stomach, a foreign sensation that both scared and thrilled me.

A gasp ripped through me as Matteo's cool fingers dipped beneath my skirt. My skin, flushed from his heated kisses, sent a jolt of contrasting sensation against his touch. It was a delicious shock, leaving me breathless.

"Hey," he murmured, voice laced with concern as he immediately stopped, his brows furrowing. "Is this okay? Do you want me to…"

He began to retract his hand, but before he could fully pull away, I reached out, my fingers blindly grasping at his . "No," I mumbled, the word barely a whisper. My voice betrayed me, shaky and breathless. Why did this simple touch feel so earth-shattering?

"No," I repeated, a little firmer this time, gathering my courage. "I mean, yes. This is… I want that." The last few words tumbled out in a rush, so quiet I wasn't sure if he even heard them.

I squeezed my eyes shut, unable to meet his gaze. I could almost picture the smirk tugging at the corner of his lips

A blush crept up my neck as his voice rumbled in my ear, a promise laced with concern. "If you feel uncomfortable at any point, love, just say the word. I want this to be good for you." His touch lingered on my bare skin, a burning ember against my suddenly chilled flesh.

The sincerity in his voice calmed the knot of nerves twisting in my stomach. I knew he wouldn't push me further than I was ready. Taking a deep breath, I met his gaze, my own desire reflected back in his warm brown eyes.

"I trust you," I whispered, the words a shaky promise.

A slow smile spread across his face, lighting up his features like the sunrise.

The brush of his fingers against the fabric of my bra sent a jolt through me. He paused, his eyes searching mine once more, a silent question hanging in the air.

This time, my response was a small, barely-there nod. It was a hesitant surrender, an invitation whispered on a breath. A satisfied glint sparked in his eyes before he continued his exploration, his touch sending shivers dancing across my skin.

Matteo's fingers grazed the clasp of my bra. The touch was a spark that ignited a fire within me, a rush of adrenaline coursing through my veins. Instinctively, my fingers tangled themselves in his hair . He dipped his head, his lips trailing a warm path down my neck before finding a sensitive spot on my chest. A soft moan escaped my lips as he teased the nipple

My back arched involuntarily, a silent plea for him to continue. I tugged on his hair, not wanting him to stop, not wanting this exquisite feeling to end.

"Does that feel good, love?" he murmured against my skin, his voice husky with desire.

"Yes," I breathed, the word barely a whisper lost in the symphony of sensations swirling around me. My eyelids fluttered shut, the world dissolving into a haze of touch and taste, the touch of his skin and the warmth of his breath. Everything else faded away .

Moving to my other nipple giving it the same attention .My fingers instinctively tangled themselves in his hair.

A wave of heat washed over me as Matteo's hand brushed against the hem of my skirt soft sigh escaped his lips as his gaze drifted to my soaked panties .

“I’ve wanted this for such a long time, you have no idea,” he murmured, sucking on the skin of my inner thighs as my hands fisted the bedsheets.

“Please,” I begged, feeling no embarrassment about how desperate I sounded. As soon as he began to suck on my clit, all my worries began to vanish. Profane words spilled from my mouth as Matteo took his sweet time with me.

"Merlin, oh, I—" It seemed as if I couldn’t control my mouth any longer; my instincts took over. I knew that I was ready; I wanted him, all of him.

“Relax, baby, I’ve got you,” his eyes were pitch black by now pupils were dilated, a dark reflection of the desire .

A loving smile playing on his lips as he slowly inserted a finger into me. It still felt strange to me, a sensation I hadn't quite grown accustomed to yet. I was tight around his fingers, but my moans urged him on. Adding another finger, he alternated between sucking, licking, then repeating, drawing me closer to my release,a mind-blowing orgasm that I’d never forget.

My stomach clenched, a tight knot forming as a foreign heat bloomed in my core. Blood roared in my ears, drowning out everything except his voice and the frantic pounding of my heart. My head arched back against the pillow, muscles involuntarily tightening around his fingers.

" good girl , Come for me, love,"

A guttural moan escaped my lips as pleasure surged through me, a wave cresting and crashing in a series of shivers. "Mattheo," I breathed, his name a desperate prayer repeated again and again.

"That’s fucking right, love ." he murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction. "Say my name,no one else says my name quite like you do. It's a sound I desperately missed."

His words fueled the fire within me, and I surrendered to the overwhelming pleasure, clinging to him as the wave crested and receded. Exhausted but exhilarated, I opened my eyes to find his gaze locked on mine.

A slow smile tugged at his lips as he brushed a kiss across my flushed cheek. The touch ignited a spark within me, and I reached out, my fingers curling around his hand. With a newfound boldness, I drew him closer, our lips meeting in a kiss that spoke volumes.

"I want you Mattheo all of you ," I whispered against his lips, with newfound confidence.

His gaze held mine for a beat, searching for any flicker of hesitation. He saw none, only a reflection of the desire burning brightly in his own eyes.

"Are you absolutely sure, love?" he asked.

"Absolutely sure just be gentle ," I breathed against his lips, the words leaving no room for doubt.

He undressed himself slowly, his eyes never leaving my form. I couldn't help but admire the contours of his body as he revealed each inch of his skin. My fingers tingled with anticipation, and I reached out to trace the lines of his sculpted six-pack, feeling the firmness beneath my touch. His muscles rippled under my fingertips.

My apprehension grew as I looked at his length, my mind swirling with doubts and desires. " will it hurt?" I asked, my voice betraying my fear and curiosity. I couldn't shake the nagging thought of how he would fit inside me.

"I won’t do anything to hurt you. I'll be gentle with you, okay?"he reassured me, his words soothing my nerves.

 “Is that gonna fit?” 

 

 “I’ll make it fit.” He kissed a trail down the valley between my breasts, his lips igniting a flame against my skin. Each touch sent a surge of heat through me, anticipation building with every passing second.

He ran the tip of his hardness through my wet folds agonizingly slowly, each touch sending shivers of pleasure coursing through my body. I could feel myself throbbing with need as he coated himself with my slickness, the sensation almost overwhelming. Gasping for breath, I reached out for his free hand holding it , needing the connection to ground me amidst the whirlwind of sensation.

“Breathe for me, baby,” Matteo murmured, his voice laced with tenderness and desire. "Keep your eyes on me. Let me see those pretty eyes."

A sharp hiss escaped my lips as he slowly began to push into me, each inch stretching my muscles as they accommodated his girth. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, a combination of pleasure and slight discomfort mingling together. , his lips pressing tender kisses against my cheeks wiped away the tears .

As he started to roll his hips, a slow and steady rhythm, the initial discomfort gave way to a rush of pleasure that flooded my senses. Each movement sent waves of sensation coursing through me, building the intensity of our connection with every thrust.

It didn't take me long to get used to the new sensation; my cries turned into moans, loud moans, my nails clawed at his back as he picked up his speed. "You're doing so well my love '." He kept on praising me as I clenched around his length.

“Good girl," . His thumb continued to circle my pulsing clit, sending electric shocks of pleasure through me. Mattheo buried his head in my neck, inhaling my scent as he listened to the rhythm of our bodies moving together. "God, you feel so good, like a fucking dream. I'll never get enough of you," he whispered against my skin, his words sending shivers down my spine.

As I looked down, the sight of our bodies connected together made me moan even louder. I couldn't help but notice the drips of blood on his dick as he moved, a stark reminder of our primal connection.

"I love you, Mattheo. I'm sorry it took me so long to say it, but I do love you more than life itself," I breathed out between heavy moans, my confession hanging in the air like a promise. Wrapping my legs around his waist, I pulled him closer, desperate for more of him.

"Fucking hell, love, are you trying to kill me?" he sucked on my neck, pushing me over the edge for the second time that evening. The feeling exploded in my belly, my moans urging him closer to his own release. Still, I continued to clench around him, my body writhing with pleasure as he rode me through the bliss. His cock twitched inside of me, warmth spreading through me as he released himself inside of me.

I was on birth control pills my mother had made me take them since I turned eighteen, but in that moment, nothing else mattered but the overwhelming sensation of love and desire coursing through my veins.

“ Holy shit,Never thought I could love someone this much. What are you doing to me ?“

"Not even Astoria Greengrass?" I teased, unable to resist bringing that up .

"Don’t you dare bring another woman’s name up while my dick is still inside you," he retorted, his tone playful yet possessive.

I chuckled, cupping his face to kiss him passionately. His response was equally fervent, but a moan escaped my lips as I felt him getting out off me .

Surveying the aftermath, I couldn't help but feel a mix of pleasure and soreness. "I think I've lost my ability to walk," I joked.

"yeah ?" he teased back, laying down beside me. His fingers gently traced patterns in my hair as he leaned in to kiss my forehead with tenderness.

"I will never, ever do anything to hurt you again," he vowed softly.

Smiling softly, I whispered, "I know," before meeting his lips in another kiss.

He broke the kiss with a chuckle" I owes Enzo big time, huh? Best brother of the year?"

I laughed, feeling the exhaustion starting to set in.

"still ,but he'll pay for frightening you like that. Now, how about I take care of you first ?" I nodded, too tired to speak.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅

BONUS SCENE.

We re-entered the castle, his hand never leaving mine. It wasn't a casual hold, but a tight clasp, his fingers weaving between mine like a declaration

Suddenly, Matteo stopped short, his eyes widening in surprise. Following his gaze, I spotted a familiar tall figure with kind eyes and a warm smile – Uncle Ben! My jaw dropped. What was he doing here?

“Look who it is! Isn't that my favorite niece?"

"Uncle Ben? What are you doing here?"

"Ah," he chuckled, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "Professor Flitwick requested a little assistance with a... well, let's just say a certain magical artifact has gotten a bit out of sorts. Seems my expertise is needed to tame the beast, Thought I'd surprise you , and pop in to see how things are going at Hogwarts"

My jaw nearly hit the floor,how things are going at Hogwarts ? Well uncle…

“ this young man was keeping my company , Enzo, wasn't it?", his voice laced with amusement as he gestured towards Enzo.

"The one and only," Enzo confirmed with a wide grin, throwing in another wink for good measure.

My stomach lurched as Uncle Ben's gaze darted down to our hands, still subtly intertwined. The air crackled with sudden tension , his eyes darted from me to Mattheo, lingering a beat too long on the hand that still rested possessively on mine.

"Riddle Jr., isn't he?" he boomed, his jovial demeanor replaced with a mixture of surprise and something akin to panic.

My mind raced, desperately searching for an explanation. "Uncle Ben, it's —" I began, only to be cut off by his frantic question.

" you're not pregnant, right?" he blurted, his voice dropping to a panicked whisper.

My jaw dropped. Enzo choked on a laugh, shooting a helpless glance towards Mattheo, who seemed to be suppressing a smirk.

“you're holding hands! "

Enzo clapped Uncle Ben on the shoulder, his voice booming with forced cheer. "Come on, Ben! Let's not jump to conclusions. They're just kids, figuring things out."

My uncle's expression remained skeptical. He shifted his gaze to Matteo, a guarded look replacing the initial shock. " Riddle Jr. here," he began, his voice tight. "What exactly are your intentions towards y/n ?"

Matteo met Uncle Ben's gaze head-on, his posture unwavering. "Sir," he said, his voice low and sincere. "I deeply regret the way things ended between y/n and me. I know I hurt her, and for that, I'll never forgive myself. However, I care for her a great deal, and I would never do anything to intentionally cause her pain again." His eyes flickered to me briefly, a flicker of something warm passing between us. "All I want is a chance to prove myself worthy of her trust."

"Uncle Ben, I trust Mattheo. We'll take things slow, and I promise to be careful."

"Wow, you two look positively radiant. Blindingly so, actually. Sunglasses anyone?”enzo said wrapping his hands around my uncle shoulders.

Our synchronized eye rolls at his comment were enough to power the entire castle for a week. He held his hands up defensively, a playful grin plastered across his face while murmuring, "I'm still your brother, don't kill me," to Mattheo.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅

Tag list :

@avee-wavee @lovelyygirl8 @lovelyypythoness @timmychalametsstuff @sage-ove

[sleepy-writes-stuff]

DP X DC PROMPT #26

(I'm feeling angsty today.)

(#) = Notes at the end of post

(*) = Just me building off of other ideas.

✦

Going Supernova

The GIW have discovered his identity, and they don't waste time on using this knowledge to their advantage. They spent the last six months creating a weapon that not only hurts ghosts but absolutely obliterates them down to their very cores. After testing it for so long on minor ghosts and then discovering the local ghostly menace's secret, they have the bright idea to make an example out of Danny.

They ambush him as he's fighting the invading ghost of the day. Their first shot misses and hits the ghost they're fighting. As soon as the shot lands, the ghost freezes in place with a look of dread and horror.

They look up at Danny with tears in their eyes and has only a few precious seconds to say, "Run," before their skin cracks and they shatter, the miniscule shards evaporating into nothingness.

Danny is petrified and grief-stricken over what he just witnessed that he doesn't have the time to even twitch before the GIW lock their sights back onto him and shoot him in the back.

Agony consumes him. His chest burns, and his ribs rattle with the effort it takes for him to breathe through the pain. The civilians who were still on the scene gasped in horror as they watched their local hero's chest start to crack and glow from within.

What the GIW didn't know was that Danny had just recently elevated to Ancient status due to helping Clockwork with the timestream. That and with his status as a halfa, what they did will end in nothing but disaster. (1)

Danny spots his parents, sister, and friends in the crowd. His parents watched in awe and excitement while his Jazz, Sam, and Tucker looked at him with horror-stricken disbelief. Knowing what's to come and not having enough time to explain, he gives them a wobbly smile.

"I'm so sorry."

He whips around and rockets straight up into the sky. He breaks through the atmosphere in a matter of seconds and continues to fly at breakneck speed away from the little green-blue planet he calls home. He has to get away. He can't destabilize so close to them. He has to go even further.

His form is steadily breaking off into pieces as his human and ghost half fight and fail to keep him together. He can feel his human half dying and his ghost half barely holding on by a thread. He can't stop, though. If he stops here, the Earth will be destroyed from the backlash.

He had no worry for himself. After all, stars die all the time. That doesn't mean that's the end for them. They just take on a new form or even help breathe new planets and galaxies into life.

'A star's death is not the end!' He comforts himself.

He only makes it a few light-years further before his energy fades out to nothing, and he slows to a halt. It's only then that Danny starts to panic alone in the vacuum of space. The furthest he's even been from home and the comfort of his friends and family.

"No. No, no, no, no." He repeats over and over. "Not far enough. Not far enough! I'm still too close!!" (2)

His stuttering heart rabbits inside his chest along with his crumbling core. He hugs himself tight with the false hope that maybe that would stop himself from falling apart. He cries for his family, his friends, his planet. His life and lives he's about to take through no fault of his own.

Because for a star to give life, they must first destroy. (3)

"I'm sorry. I-I'm so sorry! Please!"

He sobs into his hands as the light of his core pulses one final time.

"Please." He whispers brokenly.

His core shatters, and he screams for the entire cosmos to hear. His form expands with immeasurable force and shakes the very foundations of creation. His desperate attempt to spare the Earth from his self-destruction was in vain as the waves of his shattered core ravaged the solar system and destroyed everything within its path.

The countless people and other creatures on Earth didn't even have time to blink before they were completely eradicated. Quick and painless but nonetheless gone.

It took centuries for everything to settle again.

It wasn't until countless millennium passed that the solar system began to take shape again. However, everything was reshaped and put back together as though with a child's memory of what it used to be from so long ago. Some things were bound to be different, like how Mars gained its own population of intelligent humanoid creatures. How Earth's own population started to develop extraordinary abilities and magic was able to be used more freely outside of supernatural species.

Soon, there were heroes popping up all over the universe of all shapes, sizes, and species. Some people were even reborn. They started remembering a life that, as far as they knew, never actually existed. How could it? None of the people they were before showed up in any records. There were records, of course. They just, unfortunately, no longer existed.

No one knew why, either. At least not until a magic user stumbled upon a tome belonging to what they knew as the Underworld. It told the story of a young boy who died too young and was destroyed from what he became afterward. How his destruction also destroyed the world despite the boy's efforts to save it.

This story was shared with the masses of people experiencing these memories of other lives, including the heroes who took up the mantle of keeping the Earth and other corners of the galaxy safe. They mourned the loss of a life so young, so bright and full of potential. They hoped that wherever the child ended up, that they were at peace.

Little did they know, the child was part of the universe itself, his very being woven into the fabric that makes up the night sky and everything that lays beyond. They can't see or hear him, but that precious child--the Ancient of Space--laid curled around the Milky Way itself with Earth cradled gently in his trembling hands.

✦

(1) Because of his status as the new Ancient of Space and the fact that he is half human/alive is the reason his destabilization took longer than the ghost he was previously fighting. An Ancient has immense power of the aspect of reality they control, and his human half was desperately trying to keep him alive. He can't live without his ghost half, though. It was also the power of his Ancient status that made his destabilization so explosive and damaging. However, him being a halfa is also what saved his existence in the end and allows him to still continue to be the Ancient of Space, as Space itself is always in a state of dying and rebirth. It just took several thousands of years to pull himself back into a semblance of what he previously was, but obviously irrevocably changed.

(2) According to scientists a supernova would have to be within 30-50 light-years to trigger a mass extinction on Earth. To be actually completely safe from one, however, it'd have to be 160 or more light-years away. Danny didn't even make it to 20 light-years before his core self-destructed, which is why he was panicking.

(3) As I'm sure most of you know, supernovae are essential to creating life, but that life is preceded by the death of said star.

(*) I haven't really thought of who would be reborn into which character. I originally thought of Jack Fenton being reborn as Bruce Wayne, but Bruce only disguises himself as a himbo while Jack actually is one. The only reason I thought it would work out it because 1) Jack's paranoia about ghosts and translating into Bruce's own paranoia 2) him regaining his past memories would explain his propensity to collect black-haired, blue eyed children because of his loss of Danny and 3) him and his relationship with Jason after he came back as Red Hood.

Other than that, I can't think of who any of the other characters might be. You can decide!

[yandere-daydreams]

tw - implied kidnapping, possessive behavior, slight stalking, delusional thoughts.

[commissioned piece. donate to palestinians in gaza here.]

Like most tailors, Chiori often finds herself preoccupied with the concept of preservation.

It’s as inevitable as it is unreasonable, for those who work through mediums as impermanent as fabric and textile. To make a piece of clothing is to make something that, by its very definition, cannot last. No matter how fine the silk, no matter how strong the thread, no matter how sturdy her design – colors will fade and stitches will run and eventually, the only thing left of her masterpiece will be a pile of scraps left to rot underneath a bed or among the cobwebs in a forgotten attic corner. Fashion is an even more unforgiving mistress. What does it mean to try and capture the beauty of a single moment in a world that stood for a thousand years before she ever thought to pick up a needle and will stand for a thousand more, when she’s no longer able to? What does it mean that she keeps trying, regardless?

Inevitably, when Chriori thinks about herself and her craft, she thinks about preservation. And, when she thinks about preservation, she thinks about you.

You, in the most generous of sentiments, are the enemy of permanence. Her designs may eventually fall apart, but you seem to tear and shatter all that you touch, to rend the very fabric of reality without ever dropping that achingly oblivious smile. Your first visit to her shop ended with a shattered teacup, your second with a chip to the blade of her favorite pair of sheers, your tenth with a pot of her darkest, blackest dye splattered across an otherwise untouched skein of dove-white silk. Calling you clumsy would be an understatement – you’re a vehicle of pure destruction, an entity of the type of chaos that so often reduces her finest creations to rags. If it wasn’t for the way you apologize so wholeheartedly after each and every offense, the bright optimism written across your expression each time you step through the door of her boutique, she might mistake your drastic lack of coordination for a deliberate act of sabotage. At least, if that were the case, she may be able to find the strength to banish you entirely from her domain.

Her frequent gifts to you – unpaid orders, she assures, items that would just go to waste if left to gather dust on her shelves – are demolished with a similar haste. That, you can blame on the needs of your trade, claim that the clothes of the noble class don’t mix with the work of laborers, but as often as she tries, she fails to see what’s so dangerous about hauling spools of ribbon and crates of lace from one boutique to another. You do your best to mend torn sleeves, to find replacements for missing buttons, but she almost wishes you wouldn’t – that you’d let her claims to you die a swift death rather than defacing them so humiliatingly. In her weakest moments, she considers that being more blatant with her intentions, speaking to you in something other than cutting innuendo and being more transparent in her attempts to carve her name into you, but it wouldn’t make a difference. Your nature, so quick and brash and thoughtless, is contradictory to hers. No number of signatures stitched into the hems of undercollars and lipstick stains pressed into the lining between layers of material can change that.

Certainly, none of it can change the trait Chiori finds most troubling in you – your willing inability to preserve even the most precious of things, yourself. Fontaine is a much more gentle land than Inazuma, but no part of Teyvat is completely free from risk. You brag worryingly often about your run-ins with local monsters, go on at length about having to guard the embroideries she had commissioned from the finest thread-painters in Liyue from fabric-eating slimes and especially fashionable thieves, but all your levity can’t seem to draw your attention from the bruises blossoming upward from your shirt collar, the bandages so often wrapped around knuckles and plastered over your cheeks. Mortality is a concept you seemed to have considered briefly and ultimately discarded, leaving Chiori to try to make something redeemable out of the scraps. It’d be enough to drive anyone mad. It’d be enough to drive any good tailor to extremes.

You are not a delicate fabric. Satin can be properly hemmed and handled with gloves, embroidery glazed over with perfumes and resins, lace held to a candle and burnt into a more sustainable form, but you are not so easily changed. Gowns have no regard for safety or the lack thereof, but you – frustrating, impossible you – seem to actively detest the very idea of it.

You are the enemy of permeance. It’s a thought Chiori often considers, lingers on, obsess over, as she would the safe keeping of any of her proudest works.

But, she finds herself thinking, as she feels the reassuring chill of iron chains again her palm and weighs it against two matching twin cuffs, there’s a chance she may just be pairing you with the wrong materials.

[entername322]

Her highness

Minji (New jeans) x Male Reader

Length: 11341 words

Previous part

“What do you mean we're not doing karaoke? It was your idea”, Things have been very fishy for you recently, at least according to Jin, “Yeah, I did plan that, but you know, life”, He glances around a little to look at Haewon who's passive aggressively staring at you. “Whatever the fuck is happening between you and Hae, you better fix it fast before this whole thing blew up”, With the frustration all over his face you didnt have the heart to tell him you're dropping off college soon. Nah just joking, “Jin, I'm dropping out soon”, Whatever you just said just send Jin to a cardiac arrest. “Are you shitting me?” You can clearly see he's boiling up, “No, dad's gonna get busy with honeymoon soon and-” The punch was quick, you can follow it with your eyes but you decided to just let him land it.

“What the fuck is wrong with you. Like what on earth did you do in the last few months? You know what? I don't care, fix it and get your shit back together”, Thankfully he still has the composure to keep his voice down, of course that doesn't mean nobody saw the punch. “Oi, what the fuck are you two doing?” Ren and the rest came to you and broke up the ‘fight’. “Ask him”, Jin glared at me, “Guys, I will have to drop out of college soon”, Of course this news silences the whole room. “You're joking”, Of course, they knew the answer, “Fuck then what about this? This whole fucking shit was your idea”, Being a leader is kinda annoying huh? You see Jin just slips away from the room.

Jin's departure slammed the door on whatever fragile camaraderie remained. Their eyes, once alight with shared dreams, glinted with cold betrayal. You felt the weight of their judgement like a physical blow, the respect you'd meticulously cultivated crumbling to dust in their vacant stares. "Can I go out first?" you asked, your voice surprisingly steady. "I have somewhere to be. Wouldn't want to make things awkward."

Awkward. A woefully inadequate word for the gaping chasm that had opened between you and your creation. Your band, cobbled together from dreams and desperation, now resembled a wreckage, each member a splintered piece of the illusion you'd woven.

Their silence screamed volumes. The air, thick with unspoken accusations, tasted bitter on your tongue. You remembered the meticulous courtship, the careful promises whispered like sweet nothings. You'd scouted them out, these talented yet directionless souls, lured them in with visions of stardom and the clinking promise of tuition fees.

Brotherhood, you'd called it. A bond forged in sweat and ambition. But it was all a lie, a gilded cage you'd built with your ill-gotten gains. You, the puppeteer orchestrating their dreams, the benefactor playing God with their futures. And now, the strings had snapped. The music, once vibrant and hopeful, had devolved into a discordant dirge. You weren't their leader anymore, just a faded mirage revealed in the harsh light of betrayal. Letting them go, scattering them back into the indifferent arms of life, wasn't a decision, it was an acceptance. This band, this fleeting experiment, was never meant to be permanent. A hobby fueled by boredom and an insatiable need for control, it had run its course. “I wish you good luck”

.

.

.

The sobs ripped through her like a rogue storm, each tear a glistening shard of her fractured trust. Minji clung to you with the raw desperation of a shipwrecked sailor, her body shaking against yours like a fragile leaf in a hurricane. You felt the tremors of her pain coursing through you, a dissonance in the carefully orchestrated melody of your scheme. Yet, beneath the icy satisfaction, a twisted kind of admiration bloomed. This volcanic eruption of her emotions, this primal display of possessiveness, was the raw material you needed to forge your queen. Minji, in her shattered state, was closer to your vision than ever before.

Her questions, choked with tears and doubt, echoed in the room: "Was it all a charade? Am I not your only love? Was there… someone else?" Instead of flinching, you met her gaze head-on, your eyes pools of icy amusement. "Hush, now babe", you murmured, your voice a soothing balm against the rawness of her storm. "There's only you. You're the sun my world revolves around, the fire that ignites my soul…. That sounds so fucking cringe", Your futile attempt at humour has fail to lighten her moods.

“You know I only got you babe, now and forever. That's what we promised right? That's why you buy those books to guide you through these trying times”, Your words, laden with a seductive truthfulness, were carefully chosen arrows aimed at the target of her insecurities. You knew her weaknesses, the fault lines running deep within her heart. And you exploited them, not with malice, but with the precision of a sculptor moulding clay.

"Perhaps, it's time for me to come out in the open”, You continued, tracing comforting circles on her trembling back, "Whatever I've planned for you, it's for your own good babe. I love you, more than you love me. So the same way you want me to be the best version of myself for you, I wanted you to be the best version of yourself for me too. I'm sorry that I have to put you through this, but this, this little dance that we do, it excites me. It's all just a little trial, so that you can be the perfect girl for me. Should I stop this babe, or should I continue this, and turn you into the perfect”, You leaned closer to her ears, “Wife?” The question hung heavy in the air, a challenge veiled in promises. You saw the flicker of uncertainty in her eyes, the battle between fear and ambition raging within her. But you knew, you just knew, that the monster in her hungered for more than just affection. She craved control, a throne beside yours, a kingdom to share in the spoils of your deceit.

"But there were whispers," she whimpered, clinging to the last shred of doubt. "Haewon… she said…" You silenced her with a gentle kiss, your lips a whispered promise on hers. "Haewon is a moth drawn to q flame, babe. A jealous girl who'll never understand the dance we share. You, Minji, are the one that I only ever cared about. I want you, to turn as corrupt, as degenerate, and as starved as I am. In the end there will be no one else but us”, As her sobs subsided, replaced by a cautious, flickering hope, you knew you had won. You had steered her fear towards ambition, her jealousy towards loyalty. Minji, the tigress, was slowly shedding her kitten fur, her claws unfurling with every whispered promise, every seductive truth.

“I have you, I only have you since day one oppa, why are you doing this to me? Did I not show you my love enough?” She felt betrayed, yet again, it's not like there's anything you can do to make her leave, whether you like it or not. “Because I love you. You love claiming me, you love having me in this little world of ours and you want me to never leave. Yet I can't stay here forever, I love people, I love the crowd, the attention, the adoration, I love it when I walk into a room and have everyone bow to me in respect. So I have to break you down first baby, so I can mould you, to the perfect queen for me. I'm sorry that I hurt you this much baby, I never meant to ruin you, all I want to do is show you, that this is who I am. I'm sorry okay, I really do, but I'm doing this for our own good”

Yeah that's not very convincing is it? Yet, you both know Minji can't step out of this anymore. Entrapped, by her own ‘love’ towards you, the "why" wasn't important anymore. The elaborate justifications, the convoluted games, all dissolved in the face of your shared truth. Perhaps you'd hoped for anger, for defiance, even for rejection, something that would add more fuel to the chaos you've made. But instead, Minji's silence was a balm to the burning truth you'd laid bare. It spoke of understanding, of a recognition that mirrored your own, a whispered acknowledgment that this twisted symphony they danced to was somehow their anthem.

Her fingers tightened around yours, a silent pact replacing the unspoken accusations. This wasn't submission, not surrender. It was a meeting point, a crossroads where their paths, both paved with shadows, intertwined into a single, storm-swept road. "You're insane”, she whispered, her voice a feather-light caress against your cheek, "but so am I. And maybe, in this broken world, that's enough”, You've done it, you turn her into an emo girl. 

The statement, simple yet profound, hit you like a rogue wave. Her acceptance, so stark and unconditional, was the missing piece you hadn't known you craved. It felt like breathing after years of holding your breath, a rawness that simultaneously terrified and exhilarated you. Together, you sat in the quiet aftermath of your confessions, two sides of the same tainted coin, two halves of a whole sculpted from darkness. There would be no apologies, no promises of redemption, just the shared understanding that your dance, was theirs alone.

The silence that draped around you after your revelations wasn't heavy, but filled with future possibility. You scooped Minji up, cradling her close like a precious shard of the storm just weathered. In the hushed intimacy of the living room, bathed in the soft glow of a single lamp, you revelled in the newfound solidity of the bond forged in the crucible of truth. Her body, still trembling from the emotional storm, fit perfectly against yours, a puzzle piece clicking into place. You felt the warmth of her breath against your neck, a whisper of shared understanding. Gone were the accusations, the hurt, replaced by a quiet confidence, a dark symphony now playing in unison.

As you gently settled onto the couch, your gaze fell upon the abandoned book splayed on the floor, a silent witness to the whirlwind that had just passed. It was the one she'd thrown in a fit of anger, its pages splayed open like a dissected butterfly.

During this you noticed her book lay abandoned on the coffee table, a silent testament to the storm that had just swept through your living room. Minji, nestled against you, breathing in your comforting scent, slowly she notices a foreign smell, a sickening feeling starts to well up inside her. Minji’s playful mood slowly evaporated, suddenly the air felt thick with the cloying sweetness of cheap Jasmine perfume. It felt heavy, clinging to you like a second skin. It wasn't her scent, not by a long shot. Her nose crinkled, a storm brewing behind her bright facade. The smell of an old rival, a ghost that you've promised her to be exorcised from your heart.

"Trust and communication?" she scoffed, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "This author must have missed the chapter where husbands spend half the night glued to their phones and come back smelling of a cheap whore’s perfume instead of cologne”, Right, you forgot that Haewon almost embraced you earlier, which is enough for Minji's nose to pick up her scent. “Oh, this?" You chuckled, feigning nonchalance. "Just catching up with an old friend, sharing some stories. Nothing to worry about, sweetheart”, Minji has grown a little more, she notices that you didn't really try to lie, you want her to dig deeper, which she did.

Minji jumped onto your lap, grabbing your face, she bared her claws, digging into your cheek, her voice turning steely. "Sharing stories, huh? And sharing something else too, it seems. Tell me, babeee, does your 'friend' always wear perfume that smells like a used cleaning cloth?" The playful facade crumbled. You saw the hurt flickering in her eyes, the anger simmering just beneath the surface. Haewon's scent, a careless residue from a fleeting encounter, felt like a betrayal etched into the air. Minji, a defiant queen waiting for her answer, you smiled seeing this sight, such a beauty isn't she?

The playfulness was gone, replaced by a simmering intensity as Minji’s claws traced angry lines on your cheek. Her voice, sharp as broken glass, sliced through the tension-laden air. "Used cleaning cloth, huh? That's new”, A little smile forms on your face which you hide with your hand. “A fucking street whore throwing herself on to you at any moment possible. How is she there? You said she won't come”, Shame and remorse were strangers to you at this moment. This wasn't a confession dripping with guilt, it was a calculated provocation, a lit match tossed into the tinderbox of Minji's emotions. Every word, every flinch, was a brushstroke in the grand masterpiece you were composing.

"It wasn't like that," you began, your voice a feigned sigh of exasperation. "She was there at the performance, completely unexpected. We talked..." The air crackled with her disbelief. "Talked, you say?" Minji echoed, her eyes boring into yours like twin lasers. "And did this 'talk' involve her whispering sweet things on to you as you FUCKED HER behind my back?" The lie you'd woven about Haewon's absence evaporated in the crucible of her gaze. Denials would be futile, a flimsy curtain against the hurricane of her suspicion. So, you embraced the storm, your voice steady as you plunged into the icy waters of truth. "She said... she might be pregnant”, You admitted, your eyes carefully preyed upon her brewing madness.

The revelation hit Minji like a rogue wave. The fire in her eyes flickered momentarily, replaced by a chilling mix of shock and something akin to... fear. The claws digging into your skin relaxed, leaving behind crimson trails, a testament to the tempest that had just raged within her. Silence descended, the air thick with the weight of your confession. This wasn't just a betrayal of trust, it was a detonator, threatening to blow apart the twisted kingdom you'd built with Minji. But the tigress was no damsel in distress.

She pushed herself off your lap, her movements sharp and controlled. Her gaze, unwavering, held a cocktail of emotions - hurt, anger, and a flicker of something darker, something predatory.

Minji's claws retracted, not in defeat, but in a shift in focus. The fire in her eyes, previously aimed at you, burned brighter now, honed to a singular point – Haewon. The scent of the cheap perfume, no longer a mere annoyance, became a tangible object of her ire, a crimson flag planted in the territory of their twisted kingdom. "Pregnant, you say?" She echoed, her voice a low snarl, each word dripping with venom. "So, she saunters into your life, throws her cheap wares around, and now wants to play house with stolen goods?” You merely laughed at her oversight, “Babe, we just broke up like a month ago, maybe less, there's a chance it was from before you and me even a thing”, That's true, but in Minji's mind, you are her, regardless of the timeline.

The silence hung heavy in the air, a poison dart that had struck Minji right in the heart. That word, pregnant, rings countless times in her ears. Haewon, that vapid, spiteful creature, pregnant with what might be your child. Minji's claws, retracted a moment ago, dug back into your cheek, this time not in anger, but in a desperate attempt to anchor herself in this dizzying reality. "A month ago?" she breathed, her voice a fractured whisper. "You're mine oppa, I don't care if it's a month ago or a year ago, she stole you from me", The proclamations hung heavy, a storm brewing behind her fiery eyes. You met her gaze, a dark smile playing on your lips. "Alright, babe", you purred, your voice laced with a dangerous calm. "You and your... melodrama. But Haewon is just a little bump in our way, a fleeting distraction, a moth drawn to the flame only to get singed."

The truth, twisted and barbed, hung between you. A month ago, Haewon had been a convenient plaything, a diversion in the intoxicating madness that was Minji. But pregnant? That shifted the game in ways you hadn't anticipated, adding a delicious layer of chaos to the symphony you were composing. Minji, however, saw only one thing – threat. Haewon, not as a rival, but as a permanent stain on their twisted tapestry. The tigress within her reared its head, a guttural growl escaping her throat.

"Erase her," she hissed, her eyes blazing with a fire you found strangely beautiful. "Erase her from your life, from your thoughts, from every goddamn molecule of your body”, The possessiveness in her voice, the raw need to claim you as her own, sent a thrill down your spine. This, this was the Minji you craved, the one consumed by the flames of your twisted love, the one willing to dance on the edge of destruction for a taste of your dark symphony.

You leaned in, your breath ghosting over her ear. "That, my love”, You murmured, your voice dripping with seductive promise, "is precisely what we'll do. Together."

The pregnancy, that tangled mess of Haewon's moves, became the fuel for your shared purpose. Each whispered plan, each strategic strike against her rival, was a brushstroke in the masterpiece they were co-creating. Minji, fueled by righteous fury, became your partner-in-crime, her darkness mirroring your own in a mesmerising spectacle of shared chaos. You orchestrated a subtle but ruthless campaign, chipping away at Haewon's life until she was nothing but a hollow shell, clinging to a phantom hope. It wasn't just about erasing her, it was about painting Minji's name on your soul in bold, defiant strokes.

With each act of vengeance, Minji shed the last vestiges of the playful tigress, evolving into something darker, more primal. The pleasure you derived from it wasn't morbid, it was aesthetic. You were a sculptor, moulding her fury into a weapon, her possessiveness into a shield, her desire for you into an inferno that threatened to consume them both. In the flickering shadows of your twisted kingdom, where trust was a forgotten language and loyalty a weapon, you watched Minji blossom into the queen you always knew she could be. Her anger, once directed at you, had morphed into a shared crusade, a twisted tango where Haewon was the unwitting victim.

Exhaustion tugged at you like a riptide, pulling you under the velvet waves of sleep. You dragged Minji to bed, and in one quick sweep the fatigue almost took your consciousness away as soon as you dropped to the bed. Minji, however, remained a restless reef, sharp and jagged against your soft shore. The air still crackled with the aftershocks of Haewon's bomb, casting a long shadow of uncertainty over your twisted Eden. You tumbled into slumber, but it was a shallow haven, riddled with thoughts and plans for the final act you've set up. Minji, sensing your vulnerability, clung to you like a vine to a crumbling wall, desperate to anchor herself in the shifting landscape of your emotions.

As the night wore on, your sleep became a battlefield. Minji, a whirlwind of possessive fervour, left a trail of love bites across your skin – branding you with her claim, etching her name in the flesh you offered up as a canvas. Each mark, a crimson sigil in the flickering lamplight, whispered a silent declaration: "Mine” of course, she's very vocal about it as well. “You're mine oppa, I'm not letting any whore touch you again”, And, “That bitch won't be a problem anymore oppa, I'll make sure of it”, and some more monologue that tug you away from the warm embrace of rest. You stirred, half-awake, half-lost in the tangled web of sleep and desire. Minji's lips, hot and demanding, trailed a fiery path down your throat, her touch a desperate plea for reassurance, for ownership. You yielded, not unwillingly, but with a detached amusement. Her anxiety was your aphrodisiac, her possessiveness a twisted mirror reflecting your own desires.

The lovemaking was a dance of shadows, bodies entwined in a desperate quest for solace and control. Minji, no longer the playful tigress, was a predator defending her territory, marking her prey with the fierce beauty of her claws. And you, the ever-enigmatic maestro, conducted this dark symphony with a languid smile, your own desires veiled in a mist of shadows and calculated intent.

You closed your own eyes, the taste of her possessiveness lingering on your tongue. Sleep beckoned again, this time deeper, darker, pregnant with the promise of chaos. For in the kingdom of your twisted love, dawn was not a symbol of renewal, but a prelude to the next act, a twisted tango where trust was a weapon, passion a battlefield, and every bite, every mark, a declaration of war against the ghosts of yesterday and the uncertainties of tomorrow.

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“Yeah, so what do I do now?” You are talking with your dad, about Haewon of course. “You got someone pregnant, to be honest I'm surprised it took you this long”, You can't argue with that one, “It's not my fault okay? She refused to take the pills”, Yes, you have contacted Haewon again, under the supervision of Minji, and she has taken a pregnancy test and shows that she's pregnant. “You know what you want to do already”, His eyes pierced through your deception, “Yes”, Moral is, a flimsy concept you like to dance around with, of course this trait is something you've gotten from your dad. “Is she rich?” You shake your head, “Does Minji know about this?” You nodded which made him frown.

“It would be troublesome if she finds out about your plan wouldn't it?” You shake your head again before telling him what transpired between you and Minji. Just the main part, the fact that she is just downright insane and obsessed with you, of course you take no blame for her transformation. “I knew you were a bad influence on her”, He's your dad, he knows your mind okay? “I plead innocence”, Do you have the right to do that? “Denied, we'll talk about that later. For now, deal with your ex, do what you must”, That's all you need to hear.

“Thanks dad, you're such a great father”, He doesn't even bother acknowledging your sarcastic remark as he leaves the house. Then Minji scurry off from the next room and jump to your lap. “Does he say yes?” She has such an innocent excitement on her, “Yes babe, we will ruin Haewon's life”, Which is so fucked up since the two of you are planning to rip apart Haewon. “Great, finally”, She nuzzled up to you, “I need to talk with Mina”, She immediately raised her head hearing a girl's name. “Who is that?” The new Minji isn't scared to bare her fang anytime she needs to, “Dad's assistant, also my mentor for the internship I have”, You pulled out your phone only for her to immediately snatch it away.

"Funny”, She breathed, her voice barely above a whisper, "you never mentioned her before”, The accusation hung heavy in the air, a barb aimed at your perceived deception. You could have easily backpedalled, spun a web of lies to appease her, but something rebellious stirred within you. This wasn't the Minji of old, the one who accepted your every word as gospel. This was a new Minji, born from the ashes of Haewon's betrayal, a tigress who demanded truth, who wouldn't hesitate to tear through the shadows if you dared to hide in them.

You could almost hear the gears in her mind turning, suspicion and jealousy swirling like a storm cloud. You weren't afraid, not in the slightest. This was just another act in your twisted play, a minor inconvenience that fueled the fire of her possessiveness. "Just a colleague, babe”, You drawled, a playful smirk dancing on your lips. "Helping me out with the internship”, You tried to take your phone back but she refuses to let go, "Conveniently absent from your usual repertoire", she quipped, her eyes gleaming with challenge.

You couldn't help but chuckle, a low rumble that vibrated through your chest. "Mina's not part of the story, darling. She's only a little cameo in our story, and I need her to finish our plans, so may I have my phone back?" The truth, of course, was more complex. Mina was a pawn in your twisted game, a piece to be moved across the board to elicit a specific reaction from Minji. Now that Haewon is being removed from the picture, you need a new doll, and Mina would be perfect for that. Minji's jealousy, a predictable yet volatile element, was the accelerant you needed to feed Mister Hyde.

But the act of pretending, of downplaying Mina's significance, was its own reward. The flicker of annoyance in Minji's eyes, the subtle tightening of her jaw, was a delicious confirmation of your power, of your ability to manipulate her emotions like a puppet with strings. "Oh, really?" Minji's voice dripped with scepticism. "Then why the secrecy, maestro? Why not introduce me to this… mentor of yours?" The challenge was implicit. A dare, a test of your commitment to this twisted game. You met her gaze, a mischievous glint in your own eyes.

"Fine, if you insist", You shrugged, a feigned sigh escaping your lips. "But be warned, babe, Mina's a bit… bland. Not something you would have fun meeting with”, So rude, however Mina is a silent type that just can't get along with you. You don't mind introducing her, you knew it would pique Minji's interest, fuel the embers of her competitive spirit. Minji thrived on being the centre of your attention, the object of your desire. Introducing a rival, even a fabricated one, was simply adding fuel to the fire.

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.

“Mina, meet Minji, my new sister”, You stare Mina down, her pale figure seeming to shimmer in the shadows. Her delicate features, framed by dark raven hair, held the same unnerving stillness you once found captivating in Haewon. But Mina lacked the fiery edge, the malicious spark that burned beneath Haewon's surface. This one was a blank canvas, a porcelain doll waiting to be painted in the twisted hues of your desire.

The word sister in the air, a deliberate bomb dropped into the simmering tension. Minji, mid-sip of her wine, froze, her eyes flashing emerald fire. Sister? The possessive glint in them was replaced by a flicker of suspicion, the tigress sniffing out the absurdity of your claim. But before Minji could unleash her trademark hiss, you added another twist, your lips curling into a smirk. "And of course, my girlfriend, as well.” The room descended into an icy silence. Minji's jaw clenched, the wine glass held hostage between her white-knuckled fingers. Mina, however, remained unfazed. Her porcelain face flickered not even an inch, her gaze as detached as ever.

Minji, stare at you silently, “Don't you dare play this game with me”, You met her fury with a calm smile, enjoying the spectacle of her controlled outrage. "But babe", You purred, leaning closer, "It's only the truth. We may not share any blood but our name will be united soon, twisted to a lovely yet scandalous romance story”, You smiled innocently as you kissed Minji's cheek. “Twisted indeed”, Mina didn't even blink, her glacial eyes reflecting nothing but a cold amusement. “Sister and girlfriend, huh?" she finally drawled, her voice a silken blade. "Sounds like you've upgraded your moral compass from rusty to non-existent. Quite the family reunion, you'll be having soon sir", The barb stung, but you merely chuckled. You craved Mina's bluntness, her ability to pierce through your carefully constructed facade. Her lack of filter nor decency to not curse her own boss is something you always value the most.

“Come on now Mina, we're in love, haven't you ever felt young love before?” Her silent gaze answered it, “Don't make fun of our relationship, this bond is deeper than what you will understand”, Minji scoffed at Mina. "Oh, I bet," Mina drawled, her glacial gaze flitting between you and Minji. "Deeper than a Mariana Trench trench of red flags, perhaps? Incestuous entanglements spiced with a dash of public manipulation? Should I order a book called 'Ethics for Dummies' to fill your office bookshelf so that it can comfortably be placed alongside the other books you've never read before sir?” Quite the feisty one isn't she?

“Come on Mina, we're in a dog eat dog kind of world, nobody cares about this arrangement”, You shrugged, “Dogs with a penchant for family therapy, it seems”, She eyed Minji who just glared at her. “So my kind and ever so humble sir, is this 'sister-girlfriend' arrangement the only reason why I'm here? I believe I am quite a bad therapist, however if you do insist I do have a basic common sense so I believe I can manage”, You can't help but laugh, Mina is not a firecracker, she's an ice cold equivalent of that. 

“I have some issue to deal with, I believe dad has told you the details?” She shakes her head, “Of course, I expected that as well”, She doesn't even react, why do you even bother trying to fish some kind of reaction from her? Oh right, it's not her reaction you're fishing for, “Stop being such a flirt”, It's Minji's. “First of all, I had some complications, you see my ex has been found to be pregnant”, Oh, you got a little tug on the fishing line, Mina let out a little chuckle. “How many of them sir?” You laughed as you shook your head. “So blunt, it's just one Mina. And the problem is, she doesn't want to deal with this quietly”, Finally, some reaction from Mina, she tilted her head with some ‘amusement’ in her eyes.

“And?” You don't really want to answer Mina do you? In order to see your progress you need to see Minji take the initiative and spearhead this whole operation. “I want her dead”, There she goes, they grow up so fast don't they? “So crude, but how could I judge after the brother-sister relationship you two are having?” There is one elephant in the room, a question you really want to hear Mina answer. “Does dad deal with this kind of problem too?” She has no reaction at all, yet there's sudden understanding between the two of you that you happily acknowledge.

“What was that?” Of course Minji doesn't appreciate it, she doesn't see what you see in Mina's eyes but she can definitely tell something is up just by looking at you.

“Nothing, Mina come here”, Minji grabbed your arm and stood up with you, “Baby I need some time to talk okay?” That's a pathetic attempt and you know it. “I'm coming with you”, The queens demand it, are you gonna disobey your queen? “Just wait here okay? We'll be right by the door”, Her eyes burned through your skull to send you her ultimatum. “Thank you baby”, You gave her a kiss as she sat back down, Mina followed you to the corner of the room, completely disregarding Minji's presence. “Quite the specimen you had there sir, is she as morally corrupt as you?” Mina taunted you, “Not really corrupt, just, different. Anyway she's a psycho and she wants Haewon dead due to jealousy”, Mina had this very small and almost unnoticeable gloating in her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. Don't act like you're free from the crossfire, look at the way she looks at you right now”, Minji's eyes are hollow and devoid of life.

“I am completely aware sir”, Mina said without turning to Minji, “So, I need you to make Haewon disappear, but not just that. I need you to make her death to be, ambiguous at best. Is that possible?” Mina silently stare at you, this time you can't seem to grasp what's in her mind. “Making people disappear without trace is possible, however I need some more explanation on how ambiguous you want it to be”, Should you tell her why? “Just, make sure that her body is never found. Minji is paranoid and has been thinking that I might have some reluctance to this whole operation. So it would be nice if Haewon's disappearance is all clouded in mystery. No missing person report, no dead body found, no trace of her disappearances or death”, Mina just shook her head. “That's our normal procedure for this sir”, Of course it is, how could you miss this part of the orientation. “Right, well sorry Mina it's my first time doing this okay?” She still looks at you with some disappointment before walking back to the table.

You just sighed and joined back with Minji, “So? How long?” Minji said impatiently, “2 weeks, it will be finished by 2 weeks, now if there's nothing else for me I'll leave you two for your family therapy”, Did Mina just make some porn jokes? “Well, that's all for now Mina, thank you for coming here”, Mina nodded before she stood up and left the house.

“So, what did you two talk about?” Minji said, ‘calmly’. “Haewon's parents, I felt for them, they're good people”, She slapped you for that. “They raised a whore”, Can't argue with that can't you? “Don't be too anxious now baby, I'm sure they never expected her to be like this. Now, we need some shopping for our parent's marriage, I was thinking about red as our matching colour”, She looks at you with some distrust but she nod, “No, let's wear something white, it's also signify our union”, Maybe Mina is right, you need some family therapy.

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“Sweetie, do you really have to wear some white dress?” Minji nods her head showing her determination, “You said that oppa and I can't have any official marriages so I want to at least have some resemblance to a wedding”, Your mom can only sigh in defeat dealing with this new Minji. “Here I thought you don't like being with people, this dress will put a lot of eyes on you, you know”, Yet there's still some happiness in her heart seeing jee daughter has finally broken out of her cocoon. “I don't mom, but oppa does and I will tolerate people for him”, Your mom smiled at her new daughter.

“Such a good wife”, Minji blushed a little hearing that from her own mom, “So, has that ex of his has been taken care off?” Minji frowned upon hearing that, “No, it's in one week and oppa has been keeping secrets from me again”, You can't just let Haewon die off screen can't you? “He's such a troublemaker isn't he? Sometimes I wonder if he's actually his father's son”, You are, your father has the same level of moral corruption but he causes less chaos than you. “I'm losing my mind mom, I loved him more than anything in the world and I want him to love me back as much as I do”, Despite her growth, there's still some childish innocence within Minji.

“Sweetie, life isn't a novel, sometimes all you can do is compromise. Your brother is a maniac with some split personality and you are an obsessed child who's guarding him like a dragon to its trophy. You both make compromise for each other, and sometimes that's good enough”

Minji frowned and couldn't comprehend how much you compromised for her, it's not that many to be fair. “I still don't like it, why does he have to be secretive about everything? I just want him to be open to me, is that so hard?” Minji just sinked her head into her mom's embrace. “Oh sweetie, if he's so secretive and you don't like it, maybe you should find someone else?” Minji immediately pulled away from the embrace. “Are you crazy mom?” Her mom just laughed and shrugged. “All I'm saying is, if he's not the one for you then find someone else. If you don't want to, then you need to change as well”, Minji sighed. “I want to change, I want to be able to pick apart his lies like he was a book I've read a thousand times. I need time for that mom, and until then I can only swallow my jealousy and study him”

Your mom took Minji to a hug, “Listen baby, I'm happy that you have grown like this. I would support you with all my heart, but I put your father over you from now on”, That's pretty fucking hard isn't it? “So if he breaks my heart you won't do anything?” Minji scoffed, “No, I would be furious, but I won't do anything to make my husband sad, you know how it is”, Like mother like daughter. “Fine, but I won't take this much longer, I need help in making sure that whore is dead”, Minji is making move my man, “I see, I'll see what I can do”, This does put Minji in a much more relaxed state, at least for the wedding. “Now, smile and have fun, it's your mother's wedding day”

“You're such a problematic child”, Always nice hearing your father losing his patience with you isn't it? “Thanks dad”, You smiled happily, “Whatever, hopefully that Haewon girl won't be the death of you. Mina said her family is quite influential and she is gonna need some extra time”, You frowned upon hearing that, some extra time might cause, unpredictable behaviour for Minji. “Yeah, what can you do? '' Unpredictability is just some fun in your book anyway. “If this marriage ceremony goes to shit just so you know your mom will kill you”, You don't, but it's nice of your father to tell you that.

“It won't dad, now come on it's your wedding day, smile”, He slapped your head, “Yeah thanks dad I'll be outside mingling with the guests”, You fixed your hair for a moment, “Don't cause trouble”, You shrugged without promising him anything. As you get to the venue you start mingling with your dad's business partners. Taking control of the room as you dance along to this social event. Time feels blurry for you as you keep jumping from conversation to conversation. Joining every circle like you belong there before leaving to join another one. This is your playground, you thrive in this place, yet, it feels old, meeting the same face again and again.

Then you look at Minji, coming into the venue, grabbing everyone's attention. Your gaze locked with hers and you sent her a smile. Walking towards her you can see she's imitating her mother's cold aura, although it's weak but it sends the signal that she's not talking to anyone. “You look great Min”, You smiled as you walked up to her, “Thank you oppa, you look great as well”, She smiled happily. “Now, I want to go around meeting your mother's business partners and introduce myself. Hopefully you're ready to just stand there and smile as I socialise okay?” She sighed feeling disappointed, she already expected that you wanted to do that, but she still felt disappointed.

“Okay oppa, lead the way”, Minji sighed, the sound barely audible, but her grip on your arm tightened ever so slightly. She knew the drill, the silent agreement you'd forged in this twisted love of yours. In public, you were brother and sister, an enviable pair navigating the gilded cages of high society. In private, you were something else entirely – something more, passionate and throughly fucked up.

With Minji clinging to your arm like a silent shadow, you began your calculated waltz through the traps of guests. Each introduction, each handshake, was a performance, a tune in the masterpiece you were co-creating. You revelled in the way your mother's associates fawned over you, their surprise of your confidence and eloquence while their eyes were seizing you for any possible threats. This battlefield is nothing but a source of distraction you forced upon Minji so she can take her mind off Haewon.

Minji, though quiet, was not simply a passive observer. Her icy gaze darted through the crowd, missing nothing. She noted the way women's eyes lingered on you, the envy simmering beneath their painted smiles, the subtle unease you evoked in certain men. She is your queen, even in silence, her claws hidden, her loyalty fierce. “You two look practically inseparable," one woman cooed to another, her eyes flitting between you and Minji. "Like siblings from birth”, You laughed at her comment as Minji felt tremor through her body, her grip tightened on your arm as she put on a forced smile. “Well, what do you think sis? Maybe we are separated  from birth”, You laughed, Minji internally cringed the moment you called her sis, “It wouldn't change anything would it?” Such a brazen comment, perhaps even if the two of you are blood connected she would still go after you.

After a while the ceremony finally starts, you and Minji happily sit at the front, side by side watching your parents being united. Her hand stealthily grabbed yours and intertwined your finger together. As your mother reads her vow you can hear Minji speak those vows underneath her breath, audible only to you. You can't help but laugh hearing this desperate plea from her, and as soon as your father read his vows you did the same thing. “I do”, you're not sure if you heard your mom or Minji say that, “I do”, You said as well the moment your father said it. 

Seeing your parents kissing signifying their union you can feel Minji get restless, she wants to kiss you as well. Your parents smiled at the two of you, then Minji just pulled you away from the ballroom as the crowd was cheering for your parents. “So eager already?” You laughed as you followed Minji and brought you to a secluded dressing room. The crowd noise sounds distant and muffled, Minji locked the door before jumping on to you, pressing her lips to yours. Her body is pushing you to the wall as all her desire burns out of her body. “You're my husband now oppa”, A silent declaration in this empty room, is that how your wedding goes? “Baby, I want something a little more…… well more. But okay, we can pretend I'm your fiancé now”, That would suffice for Minji.

Her hands immediately grabbed your shirt and started unbuttoning it, “I want you oppa, we haven't had sex in the last 3 days because of this stupid rehearsal”, She growled before jumping in and biting your collarbone. “So naughty, you want to walk around our parent's marriage with my cum in your stomach?” Perhaps the fact that you said ‘our parents’ is already weird, no? “Those fucking girls, looking at you with lust, those old hags trying to sell you their daughters. I HATE THEM”, She yelled before biting down your neck. “That's gonna leave a mark”, You sighed before undressing your own sister. Unlike Minji you are doing it very gently, making sure you don't ruin her dress.

“Now there babe, don't ruin my pants please, I want to keep it clean”, She scoffed at you but thankfully she pulled your pants off gently. As soon as she pulled out your cock she immediately swallowed it whole. Minji has turned into a throat god as she has been milking you everytime you want to go out. “Fuck Minji, calm down there”, You groaned feeling how eager her tongue is moving. Her gag reflex is all gone as your cock easily passed her mouth into her throat. You can see your cock bulging through her little neck which is very hot. Her eyes look at you with a demanding look asking you to use her mouth like a toy.

You put both hands on her head, “Ready?” Useless question, she was born ready. Immediately you started to fuck her face mercilessly. Wet sloppy noise can be heard as she starts to drool on your cock. Her eyes start to water, ruining her mascara, such a beautiful sight. “Fuck your throat felt so good, sis”, That sounds so wrong yet so hot. Minji grabbed on your thighs for stability as you continued rocking her head up and down. Your hand went to slap her cheek making her let out a moan as you continued pounding her face. Feeling a little bad for her neck you stop moving her head, your hand held her hair gently before you moved your hips instead. 

“Fuck you're si fucking hot when you're like this Mini”, Ruined mascara, red cheek from your slaps and eyes rolled to the back of her head, she look so helpless. Minji loves when she's being used as your doll, being a little submissive girl just to serve her oppa. That's all she ever wanted, and also cutting off any girl who tried to talk to you. Looking down you can see her pussy starts to drip some liquid on the floor, “You like this sis? Being used like a toy?” You slapped her face again making her let out a loud moan as her leg started to squirm. “Fuck you're such a slut, I'm fucking cumming”, You shove it down to her throat as you pressed her head deeper into your crotch, your cock sprays down it's sperm down her throat into her stomach. You can hear her let out a scream as her leg starts to shake from an orgasm she's having.

Once you're done you let go of her hair and pull out your cock, Minji lay down on the floor panting hard as she felt like she might pass out soon. “Hey, you're tired already”, You laughed taunting her, “No, come on oppa, just fuck me already oppa”, She whined as her finger starts to prepare her pussy for you. “Don't need to tell me twice”, You laughed before laying down on her, your cock slipped into her pussy with ease, her pussy is already moulded to accommodate for your length. Your hand rests on her hips holding it tightly as you start to rock back and forth. “Ohhhhh fuck oppaaa”, Her moans echoes through the empty room as you starts to pick up your pace.

Minji's hand grabbed on to your back as her nails started to dig into it, “You're so big oppa”, Knowing full well the best way to arouse you is by stroking your ego. Your hip continues pounding her making a rhythmic slapping noise that fills up the whole room. Soon you can see her body starting to squirm and her nails starting to carve your back. “Cum oppa, pleaseeee”, She can't take it much longer, and her whimpering noises are music to your ears. You grabbed her body, forcing her to stand up and turn her body around. She leaned to the wall for support as you started to pound her from behind. “Ahhhh, oppa”, She moaned as you slapped her ass, “You like that you perv?” You laughed as you slapped her again.

“Oppa, please cum already”, Minji whined as she tried to hold her own orgasm. Your hand grabbed her hair into a ponytail gently before pulling her roughly. “Cum for me baby, I want to hear you scream”, Your other hand wrapped around her and pinched her nipple. You pushed deeper and harder, your hips crashed into hers, making every inch of Minji’s body shake and quake in pleasure until she felt her pussy explode with a mindblowing orgasm that forced her to collapse into the wall. The pounding did not stop with her orgasm, not even in the slightest. 

“I'm gonna fill this tight pussy up", You yelled as your hand gripped her hips and buried yourself balls deep inside her pussy. "Fuck, give it to me, cum in my pussy oppa" She yelled as her orgasm is still going on. Minji felt hot sticky ball batter streaming into her womb as you gripped her throat and choked her, laying over her back with beads of sweat pouring onto her hot body. Your ball emptying everything it has deep into her as Minji felt every twitch your cock is having inside her pussy. As the ecstasy passed you let go of her hand and she slumped down on the wall and sat on the floor, looking up to you with a helpless eye. Then she moves closer to you and starts to clean your cock from any sperm that still sticks on to it.

“Good girl”, You pat her head making her smile proudly, she kissed the tip of your cock as she finished her job before standing up to hug you. “I really want more oppa”, She whined, “That would be unwise baby, we still have a party to attend”, She clicked her tongue before looking at you with fiery eyes, “Once we're home we're gonna fuck and lock ourselves in the bedroom for three days”, Sounds like a challenge, “Okay baby, now go get dressed okay?” You kissed her cheek.

Thankfully her dress isn't ruined by any means, however your shirt was absolutely stained and ruffled by her earlier. “Thank god I brought some back up outfit”, Of course this is gonna happen, you expected this already. “Then let's go sneak back to the changing room oppa, I'm not ready to follow you back to the party”, You haphazardly used your shirt and tried to hide the stains with the blazer you're wearing. Then you and Mini stealthily get back into the dressing room where you change your outfit to a turtleneck and long overcoat. “You're sure you're not cold with that dress babe? It's pretty cold right now, you know?” You said as you fix your hair.

“Hmmmm, I want your coat oppa”, She tried to pull it off of you. “Oh no way lady, if you were more gentle with my blazer earlier I would've given you this. But now that you fucked that one up with your sweat I only have this coat”, She frowned hearing your rejection. That would be perfect for her, the blazer actually isn't totally ruined. There's some little wet spot in it and that's pretty much it. Minji pridefully wore it before posing in the mirror. Thankfully for her, her face would be enough distraction to make sure people didn't realise the little wet spot on the blazer. “Thank you oppa”, She smiled brightly, it's pretty obvious, she want to wear it as a warning for everyone.

“You two are so cute together, are you sure you're just siblings?” The effect is noticeable from your first encounter, “Please, we are also business partner, isn't that right Minji?” You smiled at Minji. “Of course, as the only child for each of our parents we've been taught to take our parent's company, now that they're married we have made an agreement to make sure some inheritance drama wouldn't happen”, Even Minji felt much more confident and chatty while she's wearing your blazer. “Ahhhh, hopefully you don't learn too much from your brother, otherwise you might start to get a lot of suitors soon”, Minji getting flirted on by other guys? Wouldn't that be….. an interesting way to play around with her obsession.

After chatting around for a while you went to the bathroom to just chill around from all the socialising you've been doing. Walking back to the venue however, you find a very interesting view. Minji is talking to a guy, young, a little short, very handsome. You stay silent and just watch her as she hasn't noticed your return just yet. The word talking is very loosely used to describe their interactions. The guy seems very adamant to try and get Minji to talk, yet Minji just smiled and laughed here and there without saying anything to him. Even a blind guy can see that she's highly uncomfortable with his presence. 

Then you see him slip something into her hand before walking away. Minji tried to open it before seeing you are watching her. She immediately ran up to you, “It took you so long”, She said seemingly forgotten about the earlier interaction. “Oh I was here for a while now, but you were busy with your friend so I was just watching”, Your eyes travel to the thing he slipped earlier, it seems to be a piece of paper. She also realised she was holding something, she threw it to the ground but you're fast enough to catch it. “Ohhhh? Isn't this interesting”, Just as expected, it was a phone number, “You should keep this Min”, You smiled trying to put on an angry smile as you gave it back to her.

Her face was filled with guilt and disbelief as you handed her the paper, “No I don't want it”, She crumpled it up before throwing it to a nearby trash can, she missed by the way. “Why not? You two seem to get along very well aren't you?” Her body is shaking as her eyes get teary, dear god it's so easy to tease her. “I'm not cheat-”, You immediately closed her mouth to make sure she didn't finish screaming that sentence. “Don't make a scene, and I need to talk with dad, so wait here”, You gave her an annoyed smile before walking away. 

Minji stays silent watching the wall, her hands tightened her grip and her nail sinks into her palm. You let her marinate in her own anger as you met your mom and dad. “Did you two have a fight already?” Your dad sighed, “Oh no, I was just teasing her”, Your mom looked at you with squinted eyes. “Sweetie, don't make a scene, also next time please try to find a more secure place to fuck, some people can hear you earlier”, Do you care? Does your parents care? “We do care if our special day is gonna be remembered as the start of a nasty rumour for your little endeavours”, Your dad easily read your expression. “Come on now, nothing gonna happen, nobody will know”, The two of them gave you a synced dissatisfied glare. “Okay, we won't be doing any of that, anyway me and Minji gonna go home earlier today okay”, You smiled innocently. “You should go home now”, Your mom said, “That would be bad sweetie, people will start to talk. Go home in an hour, and just sit on the balcony with Minji”, You bow your head in an exaggerated manner to them before walking off to the balcony.

Your eyes scanned the ballroom to see Minji is standing near the corner, her eyes filled with the void as she stares at the guy from earlier. “My sister is my girlfriend, and she's a psycho”, You laughed to yourself before finding Mina. She looks at you the moment you look at her, because she's creepy like that. You gestured to her to come and she silently joined you at the balcony. “Why the fuck are you asking for more time? Don't you always say that you can work efficiently”, She raised her eyebrow for a moment, “It's entertaining to see you panicking sir”, You just laughed at her. “It's amusing isn't it? Look at her, so innocent yet so corrupted already”, You nod at Minji who's watching you now.

“She is, how nice of you to find new toys to play with sir. I'm afraid I might be put in the crossfire now, aren't I?” You nod, Mina doesn't seem to be annoyed or angry about it. “I want to talk to her, Haewon”, What the fuck is wrong with you? Mina looks at you silently before speaking up, “I would say these are easy to manage, however I have a suspicion that you want to talk to her in person and not through a call”, You nod making her sigh. “I'll see what I can do sir”, She left you immediately without saying anything. You glance at Minji who's just staring at you with anger, disdain, guilt and jealousy. 

Then she walks to her mom, your mom, you watch them talk for a while before she walks to you. “I'm gonna kill him”, You're not really sure if that quick of an ending would be fun, “Me?” She shakes her head. “The guy who gave me his number. I'm gonna kill him, for you, to prove that I'm not cheating on you”, You giggled for a second. “I was just teasing you baby, don't get so worked up”, She moves closer to you which you immediately stop. “People are watching Minji, we can't just start kissing out here”, her face frowning even deeper. The two of you stay quiet for a while, she just stares at the floor, her shaking Jody tells you she's trying not to cry. “Let's go home, let's talk to mom and dad and say our goodbye before we go home”, She nodded without looking at you.

“Mom, dad, we are going home. Minji is feeling sick”, You put your hand around your sister as she's still looking down, “Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa”, Your dad sighed. “That's quite long dad”, He shake his head, “I can't deal with you anymore. That's it you're out of college from now on, you make her this way you're fixing her”, You see Minji immediately raised her head. “There's nothing to fix, right mom?” You smiled innocently, “He's right dear, my dear Minji is perfect, it's your son that's the problem here”, Your dad nodded. “You're fixing your nasty personality as well. The two of you will be going to a couple therapy”, Don't say it, don't say it, “A family therapy?” The three of them clicked their tongue and rolled their eyes. “Alright see you later mom, dad, don't look for us for the next week okay?” You winked at them before leaving.

On the way home Minji starts to kiss your neck out of anxiety, “What are you doing?” She just moans and continues biting your neck. “Hey, stop that”, She scowls and stops biting your neck, but she continues hugging you. “I will make sure nobody dares to come to me again, oppa. I'm sorry, please don't be mad”, Her apology was sincere, her anger towards that random guy is also sincere. “I was just teasing you back then so calm down. Also you should just leave him alone, his family can get cranky if something happens to him”, She frowned and nodded. This however, is a turning point for Minji, as she disregards your words and goes behind your back.

.

.

.

“Minji”, You sighed while glaring at her, *What's wrong oppa?” She smiled innocently as she kissed your cheek. “Did you kill him? After I told you to leave him alone?” She just shrugged before hugging you, “I don't know who you're talking about”, An innocent smile plastered on her face. You stare at her for a few moments as she continues kissing your neck. “I don't appreciate your disobedience Minji”, You frowned at her, “Oh don't be such a party pooper, I did it for you remember?” You sighed. Of course there's nothing you can do now, you reap what you sow after all. 

“I need to go today, I have a business meeting to follow dad so don't make any trouble”, You decide to drop the subject for now, “Okay, don't come back home late oppa. Don't flirt with any girls okay?” She kissed your cheek before happily walking back to her bed. Something is up, she's been pretty calm after the wedding yet she has never been this calm. You went to meet your dad anyway, what's the worst that could happen? “What are you distracted with?” Your father immediately sees through you. “Minji is being off again, can you tell mom to watch over her?” He shook his head, “I swear to god the two of you are gonna drive me mad. Fine, I'll make her take care of her, now go and be ready for your presentation”, You leave Minji in the back of your mind for now. However problems arise when you finish the presentation and get a call from Mina.

“She's gone”, The first thing you think is that Minji has gone somewhere, then you realise, Mina was tasked to deal with Haewon, not Minji. “Haewon is gone?” It's Minji, of course it is, “Correct, I'm afraid it's your sister-girlfriend sir”, It seems like you might have grown a little too fast. “Fuck”

Once you get home, you find Minji just chilling on the couch, acting clueless while she continues reading her book. The moment you walk in she smiles at you, “How was the meeting oppa?” You stare at her coldly, “Did you do it?” She raised her eyebrow, she's not very good at acting. Perhaps, she doesn't really try to hide it, maybe she got that one from you. “You need to be more specific oppa”, Since when is she this sassy, “Did you, clean up Haewon the same way you clean up your charming suitor”, She frowns a little hearing you call that side character a suitor. “I heard your tutor, Mina, can't seem to do her job properly. So I asked mom”, Aren't you proud? Your little girl is all grown up now.

“Mom can handle these problems better than dad?” Minji just shrugged, “Mom has her ways”, You smiled, my god you are proud of her. “Well, now all is well isn't it?” No, holy fuck no, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. You've never seen any proof, but Minji definitely has her twisted tendencies from someone. Who could it be? Could it be her mysterious dad? Or is it her mom, your mom? Could her mom…….. treat your mom as her Haewon? “Oppa? What's wrong? You're happy right? Now there's no one between us anymore”, Minji smiles as she hugs you, her eyes devoid of happiness. They're just inspecting your face in case there is any disapproval.

“What a fucked up finale”, That hits pretty close to home, “Hehehehe, now you're mine oppa, fully”, Minji's hand starts to unbuttoned your shirt. Her lips touched your neck before she sank her teeth deep into it. Look at her, look at what you've made, isn't she beautiful. “Fucking he'll Minji, you're a maniac”, You grunted as your hand grabbed her tits. “Ahhhhh, you love me because of that”, Minji moaned before she continued biting her neck. Her hand finished unbuttoning your shirt and started to unzip your pants. “Should we go to the bedroom first?” Your question was answered by her body that pushes you to the wall. 

Your pants fell off to the ground, her slender hands grabbed onto your cock as she pressed her lips onto yours. She let out moans as her hands are jerking you off. For once she took control of you. It felt good, didn't it? Having her hand aggressively jerk you off as her tongue is exploring your mouth. Your hand went under her sweater and started to fondle her breast, “Pinch it oppa”, She whimpered before continuing her exploration of your mouth. 

Her mouth then starts to lower down and kiss your neck, her hand starts to stroke you faster and faster. “Fuck Minji, you've become such a slut”, She giggled and stop bitting your neck, “I did it all for you oppa”, She whispered in your ears. “Fuck baby, I'm gonna cum”, The moment she heard you Minji immediately drop to her knees. She pulls your tip to her mouth as her hand strokes you even faster. “Fuck”, You let out a grunt as you cum into her mouth. “Mmmhhhmm~”, Minji let out a moan as she felt those thick warm cum starts to fill her mouth. Despite her best effort to swallow it all, some still manages to drip out of her mouth, forcing her to use her fingers to wipe it before licking them clean.

“There better be more oppa”, She looked at you using her puppy eyes as she licked her cum stained hands. “Hehehe, get on the couch baby”, Minji stood up and turned around, making sure to poke out her ass towards you. Minji gets on the couch, kneeling on it as her body leaned towards the backrest. “Come on oppa, fuck my ass please”, She wiggle her ass to invite you. You walk closer, your hand grabs her yoga pants before pulling them down, revealing her bare ass. “You're ready baby?” Your finger teases her tight entrance, “Oppa, just fuck me already, fill my ass up daddy”, Did she figure out your kink already? 

Your cock rests in between her cheeks, “You're so desperate already? Tell me first Minji, what did you do to Haewon?” You rubbed your cock between her ass making her feel frustrated. “Stop talking about her already, it's just you and me from now on. Forget about her, and just focus on me, daddy~”, Now how do you deal with her teasing? “Ahhhh, again daddy, spank me harder”, Well, spanking hasn't been a punishment for her anymore. You raised your hand and slapped her ass making her let out a moan, “I told you I got Haewon covered, but you just won't listen do you?” Minji bit her lips and nodded. 

“I can't wait any longer daddy, I hate her, I hate her so much. I want you, I want you to belong to me, forever. Fuck me already daddy, I can't wait for you any longer”, She whined as she wiggle her ass. “Bad girl”, You spank her again making her moan, “I hate it when you won't listen to me”, You spank her again. “I'm sorry daddy, but I can't let her take up a place in your mind anymore. You belong to me, now and forever”, She grunted. That's it, no more waiting, “Aggghhhh, fuck daddy”, Maybe you can penetrate her slower though. “Fucking slut”, You spanked her again making her moan, “Yeah, I'm your slut, fuck me harder daddy”

How is a gentleman supposed to say no to such a kind request? You pick up your pace and pound her even faster. Your hand grabbed on to her hair and pulled her up, “Ahhhhhh, fuck, you're so fucking big daddy, you're breaking me apart”, Minji is filled with ecstasy, and your cock. Your hips starts to live by itself, pounding her mercilessly as her ass jiggle from the impact and your spanking. “Fuck, fill me up daddy, pleaseee”, Her words sends you over the edge, you grunted and pull her hair even harder as you empty your load inside her. “Hhhmmm, that felt good daddy, hopefully you still have some more to give me because my pussy is still aching for you”, Minji moaned as you pulled out your dick, your cum started to overflow and dripped down her ass. 

You sit down on the couch next to her to catch your breath for a second, then Minji jumps on to your lap and starts stroking your cock. “I should stop drinking those pills oppa, because it's time to make you a real daddy”, She kissed you as your cock sprung back into action. “Hopefully, this time you didn't end up like the last girl I impregnate”, She smiled a little before leaning down and whispered in your ear, “Don't worry oppa, nothing will distract you ever again. It's just you, and me, now and forever”

[lordprettyflackotara]

Chapter Thirteen || Hitchhiker || The Proxies

tw: PLEASE READ: mentions of suicidal thoughts, various torture methods mentioned & described, descriptions of gore, depression, etc. this chapter is one of the darker ones. viewer discretion is advised.

<— previous chapter

Brian Thomas was the first. He had seen everything.

Hoodie was the first proxy. He had done everything.

Being the first can make you feel alone, if Hoodie was being honest with you. He had not only had his own mind corrupted, but he watched The Operator corrupt everyone else's around him too. Brian refused to crack at first, putting up quite a fight. Mentally and physically he fought. He refused to be The Operator's puppet. The static torture was enough to knock him down for a few days, but it didn't shatter his determination like The Operator had hoped. Brian began to try to escape. He begged, cried, and ran. Each time he landed himself in the same basement, the air stale and cold. Each time he would curl himself into a ball, his cheek laying on the raw concrete. The static would make him incapable of moving, unable to even sit up.

Once that failed, Brian tried a different tactic. He tried every method of suicide he could think of. He tried to drown himself in the mansions pond. He attempted to silt his wrist. He even had hung himself. Unfortunately, death was not his friend and feared The Operator just as much as he did. With each attempt The Operator would haul his body to Eyeless Jack, a tall demon with endless medical knowledge. With his expertise and The Operator's supernatural abilities, Brian was never granted his wish. His soul was always yanked back into his body, his wish for death never even having a consideration of being granted.

The Operator did not enjoy Brian's resistance. He had only tried to create a proxy before, Jeff the killer not the pick of the litter he soon learned. But if he could start with someone like Brian, sane but with darker underlying tendencies. He would have a much better chance of successfully crafting a personal proxy. Brian however, was much more tough than he thought. All of these death attempts, mixed in with his orders not getting completed, did not sit well with him. He knew Brian was doing it on purpose, in an attempt to get him to torture him to death. Unfortunately for Brian, The Operator had much larger plans. One that included his dear friend Tim. Brian didn't take that knowledge well, landing himself strapped to a chair in the basement he was imprisoned in.

The Operator hadn't considered traditional human torture methods, but he was growing bored of Brian's antics. Brian's memory gets spotty at this point, remembering endless buckets of water being thrown on him. At one point he swore a hose of that same water was shoved down his throat, but he may have been hallucinating at that point. The Operator attached electric wires to the man, turning the switch on. He watched his newest toys body twitch against the restraints, cries of pain escaping his lips. Seeing The Operator looming over him sopping wet, was Hoodie's first memory. He wasn't sure what he was doing there, but his wrist and ankles had been burned raw from the rope that restrained him. The Operator could see the switch in his newest proxy's eyes, his long white fingers gripping Hoodie's face.

Hoodie stared at him blankly, blinking a few times to ensure what he was seeing was real. The Operator had done it. He had corrupted Brian into what he needed him to be.

The next few years after that went by in a flash. First thing was first after Hoodie's creation: The Operator wanted him to have a partner. Who else better to join him in his new life of misery other than Tim Wright? Hoodie recognized why he wanted Tim right away, something Brian would've never spotted. Tim had anger issues, ones that were uncontrolled. He was also smart, seeking psychological help after seeing The Operator. The pills that were given to him kept The Operator away. Brian wished he had thought of that. But it was too late for that. It was too late for him. Hoodie didn't feel bad stealing the medication. If anything, he was overjoyed. Finally, a companion in this lonesome life of slavery. His joy was selfish, he knew this. He also knew Tim would never forgive him once he found out. But to Hoodie that was the glorious part: he didn't have a choice.

Neither of them did. Tim's approach was much more aggressive than Brian's, his retaliation more homicidal than suicidal. What Tim didn't realize, was that this was exactly what The Operator wanted. Masky's grand appearance was made after a long night of static, Tim's ears bleeding and raw by the time The Operator was done with him. Even when Brian and Tim fronted, Brian knew that a part of Tim would never ever forgive him. But the boys didn't have anyone else beside each other, it was a forced friendship. Toby was next, Hoodie more than unamused when he was recruited. The kid was unstable, constantly ticking and seeing things that weren't there. His story was all over the news, Hoodie didn't need to ask questions. Not like he would've anyways.

It was a different ball game with Toby. He didn't need an alter. The kid so unstable with his list of disorders he hardly needed any mental manipulation at all. Masky nor Hoodie liked this, the kid completely off of his rockers. Hoodie hated to see that he was genuinely happy slaughtering people. He hated the way he walked. The way he talked. The sound of his laughter. Masky and Hoodie tried to shove the kid off, Toby always following them around like a lost puppy. The Operator had a soft spot for the kid, one Hoodie could never pinpoint as to why. Maybe it was because he didn't need to waste his time scrambling his brains. He had lost his sanity a long time ago. The Operator didn't need to force it. With the three of them Hoodie figured he wouldn't need anymore proxies. They got the work done efficiently, the blood and gore becoming a desensitized sight to both Hoodie and Brian.

Kate the Chaser came next. She was a scrawny little thing when The Operator first brought her around, her face covered by a sunken in and stained mask. Empty black eyes and white porcelain stared back at him when he looked at her. She was borderline feral, snarling and growling anytime the three of them tried to talk to her. Hoodie suspected The Operator wanted her to become a member of their band of misfit toys, but the girl was too out of touch with human nature. She behaved like an animal, her snowy white skin constantly covered in coal dust. Hoodie suspected he had sent her down to coal mines for prolonged amounts of time, creating lack of vitamin d and animal like behavior. It was a grand mystery to Hoodie why he recruited her until he saw her run. The girl could've been a track star if her life hadn't steered so far off course. Eventually The Operator took her out of the mines, allowing her to work alone. She gained human like tendencies again, but despised sunlight.

Hoodie thought The Operator was done, until he met Cat Hunter. The Operator typically didn't present a proxy to him until they were completely mentally diminished. Hoodie was surprised that The Operator was so open about his torture of the new proxy, his tentacles wrapped around his throat as he dragged him down the hallway. Cat Hunter was a resistant one come to find out, more resistant than him. It made Hoodie feel spiteful in a way, despising the new proxy for being able to hold out longer than him. Even when Cat Hunter had fully mentally submitted, he didn't form an alter like Brian and Tim did. This only made Hoodie resent him more. The sadistic side of Hoodie relished in his corruption when he was finally instructed to meet them.

Cat Hunter was a new, more shiny toy. One The Operator took great pride in. He didn't attempt to force them to be a group this time, announcing straight away that Cat Hunter would be working alone. His metal claws were eerie, his cat mask concealing his face entirely. He only spoken when spoken to, his reclusive behavior reminding Hoodie of his own. Hoodie couldn't stand this. This life of jealousy, rage, and despair. The mourning of his own loss a constant nagging factor that ate at his brain, while being forced to watch more innocent individuals become homicidal slaves. Hoodie hadn't thought of escape in a long time. But Cat Hunter. Something about Cat Hunter brought it out of him. The desire to escape. The will to escape.

A few weeks after Cat Hunter had officially settled in, The Operator assigned the two of them on a mission together. Hoodie didn't know why, but it wasn't his job to ask why. If anything, this was the perfect opportunity for him to make his grand escape. The two were walking back from their mission, the leafs crunching below them as they trudged through the Slender woods. There was always the chance of getting caught by The Rake, a creature from hell who fed off of human flesh. But Hoodie was never afraid, always sure if The Rake got him that he would finally be granted his wish for death. But with hope carrying him every step, he didn't want to think about The Rake at all.

A rusty pipe sat in his hand, an unusual weapon. He hadn't picked one he was used to yet, all of them feeling uncomfortable in his hand. Hoodie shifted his grip on the pipe, raising it above Cat Hunter's head. He slammed it down on his skull, the newest proxies body falling onto the ground. Hoodie panicked at the sight of a small pool of blood forming around his head. He threw the pipe aside, throwing himself in a random direction. He had come to the conclusion as he ran that if he killed Cat Hunter, it would be for his own good. He weaved in and out of the giant trees, jumping over overgrown vines. His heart was pounding, his head spinning at the thought of Jack possibly hearing him.

Unfortunately for him Jack wouldn’t kill him, he had trained himself to not crave the proxies meat. If Jack were to catch him, he’d haul him back to The Operator. His lungs began to burn as they carried him deeper into the forest, his breath becoming shallow. He cringed as the muscles in his leg began to feel strained, every fiber in him screaming at him to run faster. Maybe if he had trained as much Cat Hunter he would have more stamina, Hoodie falling short as he slowed down to a stand still. He leaned against a tree, a gush of wind ripping past him as he looked up.

Over the horizon was a city. He didn’t know which one. He didn’t need to know which one. The city lights twinkled in the night, multiple shapes and colors blowing Hoodie’s pupils. He grinned as he straightened his back, a sigh of relief escaping his lips. Looking down he noted a very steep hill, one littered with overgrown grass. He knew he’d have to be careful going down, but that didn’t matter right now. What mattered was that he could taste his freedom. He’d have to spend the rest of his life on the run, but none of that mattered. He let out a laugh of relief, his mind wondering to what he’d do first.

He’d have to try to find everyone. His parents. He could buy a phone, listen to all of the music that was getting him through college. Could he do college while traveling? He’d need a career that took him around the world, not just the country. He sighed in relief, that glorious feeling then swiped away from him in an instant. It was hard for him to describe what came next. A sharp pain swiped its way through his ankles, a cry escaping his lips and echoing into the night. Before Hoodie knew it he was falling forward, colliding with the hard ground roughly. Grass and dirty flung around him as he rolled down the hill, unable to stop himself. His body only stopped when he collided with a tree, the air being knocked out of his lungs. Hoodie gasped for oxygen as he tried to see past his blurry vision full of tears.

Blinking profusely he forced himself to look down. Three blades had cleaned swiped through his ankles, the flesh now mangled and hanging loosely in various chunks. His tendons and muscles had been ripped out, his left ankle broken. His breath was shaky as he looked at it, the foot turned completely around. He cringed at the sight, his raw bones exposed through the mutilated flesh and blood. He felt his stomach churn, nausea washing over him like a violent wave. He propped himself up on his elbows, trying to prepare himself for what came next. He was surprised to hear footsteps coming down the hill, his gaze avoiding the attacker. The footsteps stopped beside him, Hoodie able to feel the attackers set of eyes study him.

Forcing himself to look up, he wanted to be surprised he saw Cat Hunter. Despite his mask concealing his expression, he could feel his pitiful look as he watched Hoodie shiver with pain. Hoodie practically bit tongue, refusing to let the strings of pleas or cries of pain out. Cat Hunter tilted his head to the side. The faint sound of static could be heard, Hoodie’s ears ringing from the agony he was under. Cat Hunter crouched down beside him, taking out a small handgun.

“I’m gonna do you a favor. Thank me later.”

It was then he was knocked out cold.

All of these years later Hoodie could remember it like it was yesterday. He rocked slowly back and forth on the back porch’s rocking chair, his hands clasped together. He watched as the snow slowly fell from the sky, coating the ground. The memories circulated his brain as he tried to make sense of Cat Hunter’s mistake. He ignored the back porch door opening, his mind heavy on Cat Hunter. You made your way over to Hoodie, hugging a blanket around your shoulders. “Can I sit?” You asked. You could see your breath in front of you. Hoodie silently gestured for you to have a seat in the rocking chair beside him.

“What’s bothering you?” You asked. You knew about the discovery of the claw. The next morning Toby was cradling you like a baby, afraid that if he didn’t have his eyes directly on you that Cat Hunter would strike. You got given the stale answer upon asking who he was. Hoodie had been avoiding you all morning. Not only was that a red flag, but it was also a red flag to you that Brian hadn’t fronted once since the discovery of the claw. Hoodie didn’t answer for a moment, watching snowflakes fall onto the earth. “You can tell me anything you know. I’m here for you,” You say. Hoodie remained silent, pondering his choices. “Hoodie,” You say, catching his attention. You lifted yourself out of your rocking chair, your hands slipping onto the sides of his hood.

You slipped the hood downwards, before slowly grabbing the hem of his ski mask. You were surprised he didn’t stop you, allowing you to unmask him. You cupped his face with your hands, your small fingers shaking from the cold. “You really should be wearing gloves,” Hoodie scolded softly. You gave him a smile, planting a kiss on his head. “Dont change the subject. Tell me what’s wrong,” You insisted. Hoodie sighed, his gaze finally meeting yours. Yeah, his life had been absolutely miserable. Until he had met you. With your stupid smile and stupid doe eyes. As he looked up into your eyes, he understood why Tim was so determined to let you live.

“Cat Hunter and I have history. If it wasn’t for Jack I wouldn’t be able to walk,” Hoodie admitted. He grabbed your waist, pulling you into his lap. You threw your legs over the arm rest, his large hands pulling you closer to him. He rewrapped the blanket around you, his body radiating warmth like a personalized heater. “I can’t imagine him hurting you like that. It bothers me,” He confessed. You nuzzled yourself into his neck, his stubble poking at your skin. “I’m pretty tough you know, i’m not just an easy target for him to kill off,” You say. Hoodie rocked you both back and forth in the rocking chair slowly, the ancient wood creaking each time the chair went backwards. “It’s not about being tough. He’s spent every waking moment of his free time becoming a better proxy. He’s made it his life’s mission to be the best,” He explained.

Your fingers found their way to his hair, running it through his locs, which had grown quite long since the two of you had met. “I’ll make you a deal,” You say. It was a long shot at making him feel better, but Hoodie appeared to be the type who preferred to handle his issues more physically than not. “I’m listening,” Hoodie mused. You pulled away from his neck, looking up into his eyes. “Let me give you a haircut and you can train me. Fighting, weapons, whatever you want. Whatever you think is best,” You offered. Hoodie gave you a cocky grin, running his fingers through his overgrown hair. “Not digging the mullet huh?” He chuckled. You playfully rolled your eyes. “I’d adore you with whatever haircut you decide to have, but if I have a say so and a pair of scissors i’d say you’re due for a trim,” You replied.

You nuzzled back into his neck, his warmth so enticing you almost forgot entirely that it was snowing. As Hoodie rocked you back and forth he could feel his chest radiating with an unfamiliar warmth, only the kind you could produce. He watched as your eyes fluttered shut, your breathing growing heavy. You were so perfect like this, so peaceful and content. For the first time in Hoodie’s existence he didn’t want to corrupt you. He wanted to keep you pure and intact. It was an odd feeling, wanting to persevere one’s innocence instead of taking it. He felt his heart skip a beat as he realized why that was. How long could this really last? Could they really pull this off? Escaping The Operator once and for all? Hoodie had done horrible, hellish things under The Operators influence. What if in the end he pinned him against you?

The feeling that had embedded itself inside of him was a parasite known as one of pure endearment. Hoodie sighed, continuing to rock you back and forth. He loved you and he’d do everything in his power to protect you. Even if that meant protecting you from himself.

—> next chapter

[xx-lemon-drop-xx]

Thor, Shiva, Poseidon, and Hades meeting their child, but they are created by humans using splices of their DNA during battle. Would they kill their child, or surrender the fight for their child?

💜 Anon <3

Thank you for the request! I ate this up like a fucking gourmet meal. I had a bit of a hard time on Hades part deciding, and like you asked in pms I didn't add in Shiva. Thank you for requesting!

Warnings: reader death, gn reader swearing, angst, Poseidon being Poseidon, wounds, ooc characters.

Request: Yes.

Words: 3,064.

Thor

Humans were distasteful, obnoxious and utterly shameless creatures. That was known to the gods as soon as they chose to pave their own paths and religions. And destroy the land granted to them by doing so. Ragnarok was a pointless arena full of boisterous clowns who’d assumed they had a chance. Thor was going to shatter those hopes.

The arena was deathly quiet as Thor was introduced as the first God up, Zeus’ plan to crush the hopes and dreams of fellow humans. On the god’s side of the arena, Goddesses, demi-gods, nymphs and others alike cheered at his arrival, despite his silent annoyance. 

Heimdal cleared his throat, speaking into the mic to introduce Thor’s opponent. “And on the human side we have a guest made specifically to mimic the humans creators. Using the DNA of the righteous Thor. A man-made god. Child against Father. Introducing (Y/n)!” 

It was a shushed silence of horror between man and god, a tense silence and a deadly aura. Zeus was shocked, though a look of slight interest was on his face. Aphrodite and Hermes had their hands over their mouths. And as expected Ares was yelling out a string of curses against the humans who dared defile godly presence. 

Brunhilde, ever the calm, had her arms crossed over her chest whilst Goll couldn't even bring herself to speak. A man-made god? It sounded distasteful and shockingly sad. 

The humans all had different reactions as well, Qin was overly interested, Adam was disappointed, Sasaki could only voice his thoughts in bitterness. “Their whole creation.. For a fight? How pitiful.” 

Of course, the norse gods were to be affected the most out of this. The room's atmosphere seemed to darken, Odin’s nails digging into the chair and crumbling it under his strength. Pesky humans, making a child out of Thor’s dna? The thought alone caused his blood to boil, soaking the others in his rage as the aura of the room grew dark. Of course he couldn't leave it to those human pests to play fair, rather to stoop low enough to challenge their pride.

Loki’s smile shaped across his face big enough to threaten to tear the skin at his cheeks, his fingers grasping at his cheeks and dragging them down his face, tongue snaking out as his eyes trend towards that damned Valkyrie. What an interesting specimen indeed. 

Thor had a straight face, though underneath that facade was a brewing storm. How.. Interesting. Facing what would be his child in a battle to the death. A kin he’d never met before, a kin he had no share of memories with. A kin he didn't even know he existed. Mjollnir felt heavier in his grasp for a moment. And he didn't quite understand why. You resemble him quite a bit. But was that something he should be proud of, as a person he’d never known existed. 

Then, why was he so hesitant? Even the birds flying ahead seemed to quiet right down, joining the silence in the stadium. 

“What is your name?”

“(Y/n).”

You had his quiet atmosphere too. How intriguing. Or perhaps you were stripped of those emotions a long while ago? He would have those human heads on a rope after he finished this fight.

“Ready yourself. Show me what a child of thunder can possess.” 

Grabbing his hammer from its place next to him, he readied himself, and the clash between child and father began. You used no weapon, only the condensed electricity you created from fingertips. What an interesting being. No. How interesting his child was. You had complete control of lighting, redirecting his own power and using it back against him. You were quite fast too. Was this a branch of the power you controlled in that tiny body of yours, (Y/n)? 

The insane grin that nabbed at Thor’s face while he fought felt like parental bonding. If only for a fleeting moment. He wondered, did you enjoy fighting as much as he did? The adrenaline, the pain, the excitement? But nothing showed through those unperturbed serious eyes of yours. 

He of course noticed your changes. Your body couldn't handle the surplus of power. You were deteriorating. Such was the curse of a god being produced by a human. Your mortality would be your demise. So why did he want to stop despite all of the emotion of the fight running through his veins like smoldering lava? 

Stopping wasn't a possibility though. In this tournament of power it was kill or be killed, slay or be slain.

Somewhere deep down, Thor knew you knew this was it. The final remnants of battle. Your finishing move skewered the sky apart in a flurry of blinding light, The loud crackle of lightning hitting the ground had everyone but him closing their eyes and turning away as dust blew through the stadium. He felt it though. The pain you felt in your attack. Against your creators, your family, against him. Against the world. The bloodthirsty need for revenge.

As it died down hitched gasps of shock and whispers of sweet ignorance rang through the air. Thor could feel that damned Valkyries eyes cutting through him like razor blades. 

Falling to the ground, You broke apart into gorgeous green crystals that blew through the stadium in a soft wind. Through chill, glazing over eyes you saw Thor standing above you, nodding his head in proud approval. And what a wonderful emotion that was, flooding through your systems. The tears that filled your vision blurred out the world, hand outstretching in a final attempt to reach towards him but falling short. Your body stiffened, deteriorating. 

Maybe in another time, things would have been different. Things would've been happier. Maybe you would've survived. Maybe in a different universe you and him were close, maybe you knew each other. The world was full of unfilled and empty maybes. Like a tapestry of lies. 

“Rest, dear child of mine. I will seek the revenge your soul deserves.” 

Poseidon

This whole thing was an annoyance to Poseidon. A Valkyrie thinks humanity deserves a chance and the gods agreed? What petty foolishness. They should have wiped the floor with those pesky vermin without a second glance. Yet here he stood, with half the stadium full of them and the other half full of slightly smarter idiots.

Only one person here deserved any glaces; and that was his elder brother and Hades alone. 

After giving the obnoxious audience some time to calm down, Heimdal began to speak, “And for our humans side, produced from splices of the sea gods dna himself, I present to you, (Y/n!)”

The stadium went utterly silent. As if everyone was afraid to move a muscle, despite (Y/n) herself, walking up through the water with ease. The aura in the stadium was changing, darkening down in the belly of anger. Loki was ferocious, but amused all the while, hands coming up to cup his face as insane laughter echoed through from his place on one of the other thrones. Were these humans crazy or just stupid? Making a man-made god from one of the most feared to walk the mortal realm and Valhalla itself? Why of course they had to be, no one in their right minds would do such a desperate thing to win. Aphrodite and Shiva were in a silent state of shock and anger, while from a different room, Thor lifted his head in interest.

Brunhilde held a grin that showed her pearly whites, loving the gods' reactions. Did they truly think she wouldn't pull the strings as tight as they could go? “Sis.. That's.. That's terrible!” Goll was in a state of denial shock, looking down at the arena where the two fighters stood. 

 Sasaki’s hand rose to rub his chin in thought. “What matching auras those two have. I wonder, do they have the same mind, or were they carved into indifference differently?” Raiden laughed, one of borderline disbelief. “That poor kid. Made just for the fight huh?” The emotions ranged differently. Tesla wanted to know through what where you produced? How many failures were there before you? Science. 

Zeus’ aura threatened his temper, his muscles bulking up and his hand raising to stroke his beard in interest. Through what thought process did those humans thought they would get away with something like this? Hades was in a silence, deep in thought and emotions indecipherable. Ares was in an uproar and Hermes was sipping tea in amused interest.

Poseidon himself had no thoughts or words despite what he came here to do. It didn’t matter if you were made from his Dna or from his skin alone. Standing in front of him was another being unworthy of his time and his precense. Though, you both did look alike and share the same steely resolve. 

“Insolent pest.” You both shared a mirrored scowl, your head tilting to the side in mocking defiance. 

“Lily-livered snot sniffer.” 

Zeus let out a laugh of pure amusement. eyebrows shooting up, whilst a smirk curled up on Hades face. 

Poseidon faced what seemed to be a mirror image of himself. And that was not something he took kindly to. Especially not your attitude either. With a burst of speed Poseidon was on top of you, Trident already thrusting directly at your face. Although, you weren't his child for no reason at all. 

Poseidon narrowed his eyes ever so slightly as you parried his attack with water. That was his domain. Though it seemed now it ran through the blood relation you both had. How interesting it was, such an inadequate person could control such a sliver of water with a few twitches of fingertips. Blood splattered across the floor or the arena before anyone could muster up a gasp, eyes widening. 

“Th-There seems to have been blood dropped already! (Y/n) has sliced the Great Poseidon straight across the chest!” Heimdal screamed out, much to both of your annoyances. So this, this beast of a man was your father? No wonder you acted like a snob. The both of you disappeared from sight again, after images fleeting across the arena as you both taught toe to toe. Like a dance. Poseidon was almost impressed. But his copy was just a copy and the original was always the better of the options. 

He spun around his Trident, dripping with the blood from your cheek and shot forwards, releasing a barrage of attacks. Amphitrite. Though you weren't so slow not to catch up, even shooting past some of his attacks enough to make him back up. More blood splattered across the floor of the arena. The both of you now suffering wounds. 

You manipulated water with ease, he had picked up on, making weapons out of it and shields. Even waves to try and knock him around. Though you weren't the only one that could control water. Your movements were filled with underlying anger, he'd noted. Anger towards what? He didn't know and he didn't bother to ask either. He didn't come here for a sob story. 

You pierced him through the side with a spear of water, and he did the same to you, the both of you twisting around. You were beginning to get dizzy, blood loss affecting you. He'd noticed the rings on your hands seemed to be your divine weapon. Though you could likely control water just fine without it too. 

The fight ended three minutes after it started, his Trident plowing through your stomach. He let your body slide down towards him, your hands gripping onto the poke of the Trident. “Not bad.” He said bluntly, eyes widening as you raised a hand, severing his arm from his shoulder in a lasting rage before breaking apart into the air in a flurry of green. 

He moved off the arena with silence, leaving you to disperse into the rest of the air. Good enough to be his child, no. But.. A worthy opponent indeed. You'd even managed to take off his arm. 

“Not bad at all..”

Hades

Hades was here for one reason. To avenge his dear brother. He didn't bat an eye at the disputing differences between humans and the other gods, his eyes held a calmness as he was introduced into the arena. The crowd sounded excited to some extent, he'd noted. Yet again, it wasn't everyday you got to see the god of the underworld come up for a fight. He had business to attend to yes, but this was much a more important matter to handle. 

“Created by humans in the image of Hades, I present to you, (Y/n)! Representing humanity for this round of Ragnarok! Don't let them surprise you, made from Hades Dna, they're expected to pack a punch.” Heimdal introduced you to the field, much to his interest and the gods' anger. 

What did they mean, a human made god? What bullshit. Shiva laughed at the thought of it, hiding a bout of anger under it all. How annoying. Those humans really thought they could create a god of all things. Why, it was just laughable. Buddha's eyebrows shot up in keen interest, a smirk taking up on his lips. “Well well.. Looky here. Brunhilde, you sly Valkyrie, using Hades' love of family against him.” Loki and Aphrodite's mouths were slightly slack as they stared down at you. “Well.. Aren't they just gorgeous?” Aphrodite murmured. 

Brunhilde held a wicked grin as her and Hades shared eye contact, her smile only widening in amusement. Ah, the looks on their faces. It was something she could lounge in for days. 

The humans were filled with interest, Adam sitting up a bit against Eve's lap. “A man made god? But how?” Technology wasn't his thing, suffice to say the least. Qin was quite amused, leaning forwards to view the arena better. And Jack hummed. “I sense quite the amount of anger in that young one's veins.” “Anger?” Adam questioned, frowning. “Why of course, good sir.” Jack poured some tea, “Hoe would you like, being created simply for the purpose of war? A shame it would be, yes?” 

Zeus and Adamas stared down into the arena, eyes wide in utter shock. “What do those filthy pests think they're doing!? Using my brother's DNA to make.. Make a pawn!” Adamas bellowed out, making his anger known to the group. “Calm now, dear brother. Humans can stoop quite low when they feel threatened. I expected no less.” Zeus rasped, clearing his throat. “You're just okay with this!?” Ares choked out, “Why no, I'm quite.. Pissed, Ares.” Zeus responded, steam rolling into the air from his small noodle body. 

Hades held an expression nothing less of surprise, though it calmed almost immediately. So, this could be considered his child? Why, they both did look strikingly similar. From the nose to the eyes down to the tips of their toes. How interesting. He took a step towards, though not a threatening one, holding his weapon with a firm hand. “I am here to avenge my brother. My apologies, little one.” 

“I am here.. Because I have to be.” That didn't seem a reason that involved importance. Rather more than force. But could he really do this? Yes, his brother was family but this.. Spawn was as well. Hades wore he would protect his family to the best of his ability, wasn't that going against his words? 

He launched forwards, and you dodged him with ease, slicing your skin open with the iron claw-like ring you wore on your finger. And the blood transformed. How interesting. He dodged the incoming weapon, made from straight blood and twisted around to stab at your side, catching the skin of your shirt only. Well aren't you just a quick one on your feet?

That was something he could respect. You seemed well trained. Despite the blows dealt between the both of you, Hades could tell there was an underlying rage. Towards humans? He'd wondered. Well, that would make sense. You've been used from the day you were born. How much of that could you take though. 

He sent you flying back into the wall with a timed attack, watching you crawl back to your feet. “Not bad, for someone not trained by a god's hand.” 

“Not bad for a dead man.” Your words were blunt as you charged forwards, and Hades' side stepped, at this point just toying with you a bit. This was a hard decision. And Zeus and Adams were on their toes about what his answer would be. 

The fighting lasted for a good long while, the both of you covered in blood. You staggered forwards after a long while. Honestly, he was impressed. Hades never knew someone could withstand blood loss as long as he could. Perhaps it ran in the genes. His opponents' defenses were open. 

The tip of his bidet tore into your skin, and he watched you prepare through the ending blow. Pulling away his bidet with a drawn out hesitant breath, Hades knelt down, and brushed some hair from your eyes, before extending his hand. 

“Come on, (Y/n). Let's go home.” 

The series of words were weird and (Y/n) wasn't used to them. No, you weren't used to them at all. But his eyes held the gentleness of a warm bath after a long tiring day. He supported your weight as you both stood up, surrendering the fight to the humans. 

“I won't let you fall into their hands again, kid. We have a lot to learn about each other. You are angry. And you deserve to be angry. And you deserve to process.” 

Hades wondered what Poseidon would have thought of this? Would he think of him as a coward? That didn't matter now. He had a child to introduce to the family. His head raised, looking into the wide eyes of a stunned audience as the both of you walked on out of the torn apart stadium. 

[nomercymaster11]

Inked secrets

A/N: Modern School AU. I inscribed his name on my notepad, sparking the creation of another one-shot story.

The classroom windows welcomed the late afternoon sun, allowing its golden rays to cast a warm glow upon the meticulously arranged desks. You sat alone at your desk, basking in the peaceful quiet of the room. You were jotting down notes from the blackboard to your notebook. Your mind, however, was occupied by the thoughts of your crush.

“T r a f a l g a r  L a w”

As you absentmindedly traced the letters of his name on the notebook, a silly smile played on your lips. The doodle was accompanied by a small heart, a secret declaration of your feelings. You leaned your elbow on the desk, resting your cheek on your hand, gazing at the window with a dreamy expression, lost in a blissful daydream.

You were suddenly jolted back to reality when a hand swiftly snatched the notebook from your desk.

Startled, you looked up to see Penguin, a mischievous grin on his face, holding your notebook. Panic and embarrassment flooded your senses as he flipped through the pages, landing on the one with Law's name and your doodle.

"Someone's had a crush on our friend." Penguin teased, raising an eyebrow as he continued to inspect the notebook.

"Give it back!" you exclaimed, your cheeks burning with embarrassment. You jumped to your feet, determination in your eyes, and lunged towards Penguin, who held the notebook just out of your reach.

Penguin, enjoying the situation, held the notebook high, stretching his arm to the maximum. As you attempted to snatch it back, he playfully pushed you away, eliciting a frustrated cry from you.

"Shachi! catch!" Penguin called out, tossing the notebook toward the unsuspecting Shachi who entered the scene. You followed the notebook's trajectory, your eyes widening as Shachi caught it with ease.

"Hey!" you shouted, chasing after Penguin and Shachi as they bolted out of the classroom. The pursuit continued up the stairs, the sound of your footsteps echoing through the corridors.

As the trio reached the rooftop, Law looked up from his peaceful rest on the bench, annoyance etching his usually calm features. The noise from downstairs had disrupted his moment of solitude, and he furrowed his brows at the chaotic scene unfolding before him.

Penguin and Shachi, grinning like school boys caught in mischief, stood at the rooftop's edge, your notebook still in Shachi's hands. You, breathless and determined, arrived at the scene, demanding the return of your precious possession. Law sighed, realizing that the tranquility he sought was now shattered by the whirlwind of emotions and laughter that enveloped the rooftop.

Law's measured steps brought him closer to Penguin and Shachi, a subtle authority emanated from him. His outstretched hand silently demanding the notebook's return. Shachi, understanding the unspoken command, handed over the prized possession to Law. You watched in anticipation as Law took hold of the notebook, his usually composed demeanor hinting at the slightest curiosity.

Penguin and Shachi, sensing the tension, walked past Law and stood behind you. The two exchanged glances, their mischievous grins turning into expectant expressions. Law approached you, his hand signaling for you to take back your notebook. Your hand reached out, eager to reclaim your doodle-filled sanctuary.

However, as your fingers brushed against the pages, Law pulled it away, his wrist folding upward in a surprising move.

"Kidding," Law declared, a hint of amusement in his voice. Your heart skipped a beat at the unexpected twist. He opened the notebook and scanned its contents. Your eyes widening in panic, leaving you frozen and anxious.

The moment felt like an eternity until Law sighed, closing the notebook.

"What's the fuss about this? It's just a bunch of doodles," he remarked, handing the notebook back to you. Relief washed over you, and you took it with a mix of gratitude and confusion.

(Maybe he didn't see it) you thought, trying to calm your racing heart.

Penguin tilted his head, confusion evident on his face. "Huh?"

Law's sharp gaze turned to Penguin and Shachi.

"Stop teasing her, will you? You guys even interrupted my rest," he scolded them, the annoyance returning to his voice.

Then, he focused on you. Your eyes met, and he delivered a stern message,

"A notebook is used for studying and not for anything else."

You frowned at Law's authoritative tone.

"You don't get to decide what I do with it!" you retorted, clutching the notebook to your chest and shooting a defiant look at him.

Turning away from Law, you decided to take matters into your own hands. You punched Penguin and Shachi on their arms, a mix of frustration and playfulness in your actions.

"Ouch!" Penguin yelped, rubbing his arm.

The three of you left the rooftop, chattering animatedly as you descended the stairs. Law stood still, left behind in the quiet solitude of the rooftop.

His right hand formed a fist, and he absentmindedly pressed it lightly against his lips. A subtle smile played on his lips, and his cheeks felt unusually warm, unable to conceal the amusement sparkling in his eyes.

A rare, softer side of him emerged as he recalled your face, the way you stood up for yourself. Without your knowledge, Law had decided to play along and lied about not seeing his name etched in your notebook, accompanied by a heart sign. To him, it was a cute and endearing gesture. He harbored feelings for you, much like you did for him, but he struggled with how to approach you.

With the knowledge of your secret now known to him, Law couldn't help but giggle like a kid. Deeply inhaling, he cleared his throat to bring himself back to his usual stoic demeanor.

"This is bad," Law whispered to himself, his thoughts consumed by you. As he stood alone on the rooftop, a newfound warmth spread within him, and he found himself unable to stop thinking about you.

The rooftop now held a shared secret, a subtle connection between the two of you that had unfolded in the most unexpected way.

[riizegasm]

Soft as a Misty Rain || W. YX (Nicholas)

❀ pairing: &team nicholas x fem!reader

❀ genre: exes to lovers!au, fluff, minor angst

❀ word count: ~3.3k

❀ warnings: explicit language, one very brief non-descriptive depiction of sex, nico is really bad at communicating, the weather as a metaphor for emotions

❀ summary: In the storm that hangs over your life, your ex appears like a lightning strike. As much as you hate to admit it, he softens the rain, allowing you to face clearer skies.

❀ a/n: At this point, I feel like I need to warn y’all that I write more than just angst. But I promise this one is not that bad!! Much more fluff than usual, which was hard for me, but I hope you enjoy it. As usual, likes, reblogs, and replies are appreciated and encouraged.

masterlist

He comes to you in the rain. The tips of his hair drip water onto his face, sliding down the unblemished skin until they land on his fully soaked clothes. His faded Pink Floyd shirt sticks to his frame, highlighting every ridge of his abdomen. The normally baggy jeans he wears hang even lower than they usually do, their cuffs hanging in a puddle of his own creation. 

It’s a warm summer rain, the kind that appears out of nowhere and clears within the hour. Its brevity can’t outweigh its intensity, though, thoroughly soaking everything in sight. The flowers love it, basking in the brief respite from the intense August heat. The flower in front of you, however, is wilting from the power of the storm, soaked and shaking. 

“Nicholas?”

When he finally raises his head, letting his eyes meet yours from behind the inky curtain of his bangs, you can’t help but shiver. Despite the time apart, he has never lost the intensity in his gaze. It still throws you off kilter. It still has you wanting to hold him close and never let go. It still has your heart shattering. 

“I’m sorry,” the boy whispers. “I just…I didn’t know where else to go.”

You would have thought that in the eight months that you spent broken up, he would have found someone else. You always assumed there was someone else for him, another person to confide in, another shoulder to lean on, another hand to hold. Despite the hollowness of his cheeks and the paleness of his skin, it’s hard to believe that there was truly nowhere else for him to go. 

You don’t know which scenario is worse: that he had no choice, or that he chose you. 

Seconds tick by, announced by the rhythmic drip of raindrops onto the floor of the hallway. Outside, a crash of thunder booms, practically shaking the entire building. It’s only then that you are able to snap yourself out of your reverie, moving aside to let the man into your apartment. 

Making Nicholas comfortable is second nature to you at this point, despite losing months of practice. You shoo him into the shower and warm up a towel for him in the dryer. The old hoodie and pair of basketball shorts you haven’t managed to throw out yet are neatly folded and placed on the bathroom counter. It doesn’t even cross your mind to take in his figure behind the glass of the shower pane, blurred from the steam condensing on its surface. Instead, you turn the air conditioner down and begin to heat a kettle for tea, knowing how easily he catches a cold. 

It’s a dance you know every step to, despite not having performed the choreography in years. 

The second time he appears is with a flash of lightning, suddenly standing near the foot of the couch. His eyes are downturned once again, hair still wet and concealing his gaze. He seems content to stare at the floor, so you take it upon yourself to speak. 

“Tea?”

Nicholas’s voice is hoarse as he responds, eyes still glued to the wooden planks beneath him. “Please.”

You hate the way one simple word has shivers running up your spine. It’s just that one word that transports you back in time—hands tangled in black and blonde dyed locks, lips moving fervently against each other, hips meeting in a filthy grind, a simple word uttered from spit-slicked lips. That couldn’t be further from the word’s meaning here, yet your mouth is flooded with the stale taste of second-hand cigarettes. 

As the storm rages on, Nicholas clutches the mug of tea in his hands, fingers tightening around the ceramic at every new boom of thunder. The building shakes and so does he. You wonder if your touch would be enough to warm the boy to his core, to halt every shiver. But it’s only after a particularly loud thunderclap that you realize his shaking is not from a lack of warmth. It’s from his own storm that has begun to stream down his cheeks.

“Nicholas,” you whisper softly, as if not to spook a woodland creature, “what’s going on?”

The man lets out a strangled sob, clutching the mug even tighter. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t even be here, but fuck, I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?”

Nicholas sniffles, finally tearing his eyes away from the steaming cup in his hands. “I’m sorry for still being in love with you.”

.         .         .

Nine months prior

A flurry of kisses are placed all over your face, breaking your concentration from the book in front of you. You can’t help but giggle as your boyfriend’s assault continues, the man seeming determined to place a kiss on every inch of exposed skin. There isn’t much, as you have started to trade in your lighter fall jackets for thicker sweaters. Nicholas doesn’t seem to mind, though, tugging at your collar to expose even more of you. 

“Babe stop it!” You whine between puffs of laughter. “The story was just starting to get good.”

Your boyfriend just smirks, continuing to place his lips on any inch of you he can reach. “Don’t care,” he mumbles between kisses. “You look so cute when you’re concentrating.”

Nicholas was rarely shy with his affections. He was the type to constantly shower you in praise, return home with little gifts and trinkets for you, keep a protective hand around your waist at all times. Despite how shy he comes off at first, he is nothing short of extraverted in his love for you. In the years of you two dating, he has only gotten more bold in his proclamations of love, both literally and figuratively. 

“I love you,” he mutters, lips attached to a particularly sensitive patch of skin behind your ear. “You’re so cute. My pretty girl.”

The warmth of his breath tickles your skin, causing your entire body to sprout with goosebumps. The teasing pressure on the sensitive spot kickstarts your heart to pump a mile a minute, the heat encompassing your body comparable to the flames in the lit fireplace before you. Nicholas’s touch has rewired your inner workings to be constantly excited, constantly anticipating the pleasure to come. 

But nothing comes. Nicholas simply pulls away from you, a sweet smile on his face. 

“I’m going to go meet Yuma for lunch. Do you want me to bring anything back?”

You smile, shaking your head softly. “Have fun, though. Tell Yuma I said hi.”

“I will.”

Nicholas leaves a lingering kiss on your forehead before pulling away completely. You can’t help but watch with a fond stare as he flits about the apartment. It’s endearing to watch the furrow in his brow and the way he worries his bottom lip with his teeth. Only a few moments later, he deems himself ready to go, calling out one last goodbye as he disappears through the door. 

When scanning the damage he left behind on his way out, your eye is caught by the bright green of the clock displayed on the microwave. 4:37 pm, it reads. You can’t help but be confused. 

A little late for lunch, isn’t it?

.         .         .

Eight months prior

He comes home reeking of cigarettes and smiling lazily. For a moment, you think he’s drunk, with his sluggish and uncoordinated movements. He trips over his own feet trying to get his shoes off, sighing frustratedly in the doorway. The sound has you rolling your eyes, increasingly growing agitated with your boyfriend’s actions. 

His nose is red as he enters the living room, sniffling frequently. The chill of December does that to people. But when his eyes meet yours from the opposite side of the couch, you notice the equally red eyes and the dried tear tracks staining his face. Instantly, your heart plummets. 

“What happened?”

Nicholas sniffles softly, reddened eyes slowly scanning your figure. He’s clearly pondering his words, face twisted into a grimace as if his own thoughts pain him. The hardcover book you had been reading falls from your slackened grip, making a loud thud as it hits the wooden floor. Neither of you move at the sound. 

“Y/N, I—,” Nicholas cuts himself off with a wince, biting back a sob. “We need to break up.”

After approximately two years, four months, and thirteen days, the thought of breaking up seems so outlandish that normally, you would laugh. Even if Nicholas looked you dead in your eyes on any other day and said he wanted to break up, you would laugh. Your nose would scrunch and your head would be tipped back as you let out a full body chuckle. You would playfully punch Nicholas’s arm and kiss him in the same breath. 

But you’re not laughing. 

“Break up? What? Why?” You can’t seem to stop the flurry of questions that leave your mouth. “What happened? Why now, all of a sudden?”

Nicholas shakes his head. “I just can’t do this anymore.”

The exhaustion in his voice sets off a ringing in your ears, as if sounding an alarm for your body. Despite the small inflections in his voice, clearly unsteady from crying, you know he means what he’s saying. Nicholas has never been the type to be careless about his words, especially when it comes to you. 

“What do you mean you can’t do this anymore?” As you speak, your voice begins to take on a sharp edge, piercing through the living room. “After two fucking years you just decide you can’t do this? What the hell does that even mean?”

“It means that I can’t do this. I can’t do us anymore.”

A violent heat begins to overtake your face, metaphorical steam coming out of your ears as if you were a cartoon. In your prior breakups you had been sad, resigning yourself to whatever reason had split you apart. However, right now, nothing can overtake the scalding confusion that is consuming you right now. You imagine that you could single-handedly reverse the December chill, making your surroundings feel like the hottest of summers. 

“But why?” You wince as your voice cracks. 

“Because,” Nicholas sighs. “I just can’t. We can’t. I’m sorry, Y/N. I really am.”

He leaves you in the warmth of your apartment as he faces the bitter cold of the winter. His reddened face is hidden almost completely by a thick beanie, layers of clothing doing their best to protect his frail body underneath. You watch from your bedroom window as his figure treks down the street, disappearing around a concrete corner. Only then does it begin to snow. 

.         .         .

Seven months prior

You are sobbing. 

.         .         .

Six months prior

You are crying. 

.         .          .

Five months prior

You are tearing up. 

.         .         .

Four months prior 

You are expressionless. 

.          .         .

Three months prior

You are listening. 

.          .         .

Two months prior

You are speaking. 

.          .         .

One month prior

You are smiling. 

.         .         .

Present day

You are sobbing. 

It only took those few words from Nicholas for you to break down, the storm overtaking your emotions mirroring the one outside your window. Your sobs oddly harmonize with Nicholas’s own, both of your sadness manifesting in the same way despite the very different reasons for it. It’s as if you exist in a strangely cast musical, with Nicholas in the role of the heartbreaker and you in the role of the heartbroken. 

But now, you can’t quite pinpoint whether or not your tears stem from that same heartbreak you experienced eight months ago, or if it’s brewing from something deeper. 

“You don’t get to just say that,” you hiccup. “After all these months of nothing! You broke up with me without even explaining why.”

Nicholas winces at the harsh tone of your voice, ducking his head to look at the floor. “I know. Fuck, I know. And I’m sorry. I just had to tell you how I felt…how I still feel.”

The ceramic mug makes a soft clinking sound as Nicholas places it on the coffee table, the tea it housed probably having grown cold. It’s enough to force the space into a bout of tense silence, the only interruptor being the steady patter of rain against the window panes. You imagine that the next boom of thunder will be strong enough to shake the apartment, strong enough to shock you out of this nightmare in which your ex boyfriend still loves you. 

You swallow thickly, forcing your tears to subside for a moment. “Then why? Why did you leave me?”

“Because,” Nicholas sighs. “I was scared.”

The Nicholas you used to know was rarely ever scared. He didn’t blink an eye when he would get weird stares over his unique fashion choices. He would laugh in the face of the most insidious horror movies and cringe at their jump scares. You deemed him your knight in shining armor, ready to slay any dragon that dared come close. 

“You? Scared of what?”

Nicholas smiles sadly. “Do you remember when we went Thanksgiving shopping?”

You remember it vividly. The day had been abnormally warm for November, so you were clad in one of Nico’s tee shirts and a pair of old yoga pants. The store was immensely crowded, so much so that the two of you ended up pressed together like sardines in the aisle. It wasn’t that bad overall until you and a random lady had both reached for the last can of cranberry sauce. She tried to argue you down for it, making a case that since she was older, she deserves the can and everything. While she was so busy yelling, you grabbed the can, stuck out your tongue, and left. 

“That lady was just yelling and yelling, and you grabbed that can, and took me with you. When I was following behind you, or I guess you were dragging me by the hand, I couldn’t help but think ‘gosh, I love you so much’. I loved you so much that it scared me.”

Something flutters in your core. “Nico—,”

“We’re so young, and yet, every time I looked at you, I couldn’t think about anything but growing old together. Hell, I used to stay up at night thinking about what our kids would look like. That’s how much I loved you, Y/N. And I felt like I was smothering you. You had your job and you would come home and read and cook and I would just be distracting you and begging for your attention. Do you know how sad that is? It almost felt like it wasn’t healthy. So I had to leave. I had to let you live.”

A tense silence overtakes the apartment, sucking all of the oxygen from the room. Your fingers busy themselves by playing with the frayed ends of a tattered blanket. It’s the one that Nicholas got you for your first Christmas spent together, forest green with red hearts etched across its surface. You wouldn’t dare to admit that you haven’t spent a single night without snuggling with it, tucking it under your chin and breathing in its faded scent. It’s the very scent that strikes you with a bout of confidence, looking directly into the gaze of the man across from you. 

“Nico, what makes you think that I would want to live without you?”

Plush lips part into a surprised “o” as Nicholas looks at you. His reddened eyes scan your face, as if searching for a reason to not believe you. It takes a few seconds for him to complete his assessment, mouth shutting silently. He nods once, twice, clearly mulling something over in his head, always extremely cautious before he speaks. You used to wish he was more forthcoming, and just said whatever was on the tip of his tongue. After all, it was what got you both into this situation in the first place. 

“I thought you needed to,” Nicholas confesses. “I couldn’t stand feeling like I was holding you back.”

You laugh soullessly. “You know that I stopped reading after you left. I haven’t picked up a book in months.”

“Why?”

You try not to coo at the confusion etched across the man’s face. “Because fantasy didn’t seem as magical if I didn’t have a spectacular reality to come back to. You were spectacular, Nico. We were spectacular.”

Many would say that the mundane simply couldn’t be spectacular, but you thought that couldn’t be further from the truth. There was something about cooking dinner for the two of you that lit your core up. Sharing chaste kisses over the pages of a book made you smile like no other. Playing dress up in the mall and buying matching accessories was simply joyous. Being with Nicholas was magical, in the same way that spinning straw into gold was. 

When he left, a permanent tempest hung over your head. Storm clouds pelted you with the harshest rains with no relief. A tornado of emotions constantly tore through your body. And just when the skies began to clear, here comes Nicholas flashing back into your life like a lightning strike. 

“So, what are you saying?” Nicholas asks, voice barely a whisper. 

“Do you want to be with me?”

“More than anything.”

The rain has softened against the window, slowing to a mellow drizzle. 

“Then let’s be together.”

Nicholas sniffles, eyes falling shut. “Please don’t joke with me right now.”

You can’t help but let out a wet chuckle at the desperation coloring Nicholas’s voice. It prompts you to cross the distance on the couch until you settle right next to him. His hands are still chilled when you grab them, resting them both in your lap. The calloused skin of his palms feels so familiar against your papercut riddled fingers. 

“Look at me,” you coo, smiling softly when the man across from you obliges. “I’m not joking. I want to be together as long as you promise to be upfront with me. And, you have to know that I love you. I want a future with you. That’s nothing to be scared of.”

“But—,”

“No buts. Promise me.”

Nicholas eyes your intertwined hands, softly flexing his fingers where they sit in between yours. It’s only after you give his hands a firm squeeze that his lips part in a smile. He laughs once, as if in disbelief, before meeting your gaze once again. 

“I promise.”

Your lips are only able to smile for a brief second before a mouth covers them. It shocks you for a moment, until you melt into the familiarity of slightly chapped lips moving against yours. You can feel where Nicholas can’t really stop smiling, letting out a small giggle when your teeth clack together. It doesn’t deter either of you, though, simply content to continue trading giggles and kisses.

It takes a handful of minutes for you two to part, the stream of kisses never escalating further. The small distance between the two of you proves to be too much for Nicholas, who wraps a hand around your waist to pull you even closer. He scoops your legs into his lap, allowing you to sit draped across him. It’s the perfect position to allow you to look up at him, admiring the soft slope of his nose and the pretty curve of his lips. You find yourself pushing back his fringe in order to more clearly see his eyes. They are still red rimmed, but it does little to obscure the simple adoration in his gaze. 

The intensity of his stare forces you to look away, attempting to fight the heat rising to your cheeks. You end up peering beyond the window, noticing the hints of sunlight that are beginning to peek through the clouds. You smile, watching as the world begins to be illuminated bit by bit. 

“Look, it stopped raining,” you tell Nicholas. 

When you turn to face the man, he is still staring down at you, a soft smile lighting up his face. 

“I had a feeling it would.”

.FIN.

[justjams2003]

The Desire to be Loved-3

Summary: Love is Desire's first creation. As Cupid she shoots her arrows of love and rips them from people's hearts too. Occasionally, shooting a soulmate arrow. What does she do when her first Soulmate arrow in 100 years is between Cupid and Dream?

Pairing: Dream of the Endless x OFC Love/Cupid/Venus (you know how these beings have millions of names) (Also technically it could be an x reader because love is sort of anthropomorphic but in this story a she)

Warnings: Manipulation, threats, crying, cliffhanger, unedited, kind of like enemies to lovers, soulmate au, cursing, tell me if I miss any

Word count: 1,7k+

Dividers by: @hyelita

Tags: @intothesoul @briskesby coffeebeforewater

Masterlist

(I've moved next part to the bottom)

Love’s steps are usually much more graceful. Like a bird so carefully landing on a tree branch. So lightly that the branch doesn’t even move. It looks like nothing but the wind breezing through the careful sway of the tree.  

Or maybe her movements are more like a spider. Slicking up buildings, perching and waiting to shoot the arrow of love. She has wings but more often than not she doesn’t use them. She likes climbing things and sneaking around. Pretending that the human’s can see her and she needs to hide. Some childish game to distract her from the loneliness.  

Her loneliness of not being seen. Over a billion people on earth. And not a single one can see her. Maybe, sure, the ghosts can see her. But why would ghosts want to talk to her? Can ghosts even love? How would Cupid shoot them with love-arrows if they can’t be touched?  

Since life has been breathed into her lungs, Desire has been the only being she’d ever talked to. And when they did, he usually did most of the talking. Scheming, rather. Talking about every possible way, left and right, to take down his siblings. Or just something more to mess with the humans a bit. 

Cupid doesn’t like messing with the mortals. Or the thought of hurting the other Endless. She’s never really thought of hurting anything. She wasn’t made with the ability to think of harm. She liked watching the humans. They’re so social. Even the ones who claim they like to be alone, they always have another human close by.   

And those who don’t... they eventually die the same way she lives. But that’s her least favourite part. She doesn’t like thinking about it, it makes her feel weird... Her favourite is watching a couple with one of her arrows between them. The first shy looks between them, red cheeks that she’s never had. She tries to always be there for the first ‘I love yous.’  

But watching her now, is pathetic at the least. She looks exhausted, all her power is gone. Dream of the Endless has been out of action for 100 years. All dreams are gone, no dream of desire, no dream of love. No arrows showed up in her quiver. Desire stopped talking to her, after all there was no need to.  

And one day in utter frustration, she pulled too hard. What gave her power was the love and hope between people. It brought her power to see people happy together. More people in love, the stronger Love is. But in the last 100 years...almost nothing. All she’s done is pull out her arrows from people’s hearts. Weaker and weaker.  

And one day she just snapped. Seeing the human shatter and break, some new emotion she never felt before rised...frustration. She knew how fragile the humans are but her anger got the worst of her. It had been the 50th arrow that day that she had to take out. She had to watch how they’d wail and cry when their heart rip apart.  

She’d hacked the arrow along with the heart out. In the human world it just looked like a normal heart attack, but to her it was something much more horrific. The human heart beat in her hands and the blood poured and poured. She knew Desire would just laugh at her and there was only one other person who could even see her. 

But this, where she is now is even worse. The walls are blood red, the obvious realm of Desire of the Endless. She looks barely on the brink of life. Her everything looks grey and dull. “D-Desire?” She mutters hoping for some sort of life force grant from him. A loan until dreams reappear in people. Until love has some sort of meaning again.  

But when she finally limped her way to the throne she got the exact opposite response. “Hello, pet, could there ever possibly be something you want to say to me?” His tone is harsh like a bee sting. “I-I don’t feel so good.” He just scoffs and rolls his eyes.  

“You...you...sly minx! You’re like a fucking viper!” He has a cruel grin on his face. But Love has given up after years of psychological torture and isolation. She is just as quick to snap back. At him “The first words he spoke to me was a thank you. That’s more I’ve ever gotten from you!” Something seems to actualise up for Desire.  

“Oh, I see that’s how it is. You think he cares about you.” He grins and stands up from his throne. His sharp claw once again finds the sensitive skin under her chin. “I don’t understand why you hate him so much.” She mutters turning her face away. But he grabs her right by the cheeks and keeps her exactly in place.  

“I thought that you wanted your master to rule? I’ve been so so good to you haven’t I?” His mouth grazes across her jaw. Her breathing hitches. This is how he gets her. “He doesn’t care about you. He didn’t even know you existed before you stumbled your way into that fucking basement. And didn’t I tell you not to go back there?”  

“He didn’t hurt me like you told me would. Not once, he’s been nothing but soft and-” suddenly his hand wraps around her neck. She’s weak, and even before she only had a fraction of his power. She can‘t fight back. “’not once’? Not only did you free him from his cage you visited him more than twice?”  

His fingers become tighter around her neck. His claws draw blood and it drips down her chest. Her hands flail around his. Her breathing becomes raspy and painful. “I could make a million more of you if I wanted.” He whispers into her ear. But his other hand comes up and scrapes a line across her cheek.  

“But you’re oh so beautiful.” His pink tongue drags over the line of blood dripping from her cheek. Then he places a sloppy kiss on her cheek. “You were meant to be my perfect creation. But now look at you. Weak and fucking useless...” They let go of Love. 

When she crumbles on the floor he just coos. “Such a shame. Too sickly to fly, to teleport. I’m sure you couldn’t even pick up your bow if you tried.” He bends down to the girl struggling to get up. He grabs her by the hair, he can’t help but admire how beautiful he made her again. “I think I should try again, don’t you...?”  

Feelings are such a conflicting thing. Something that the Dream of the Endless never thought that he’d be one to deal with. Black and white and no in between, right? Make dreams, make nightmares, deal with the things that shouldn’t be. Sure, once in a while one of his many siblings would irk him or send him one of this in between things to deal with.  

But now things are different. Now he’s been caged up for over a century. Now for some odd reason there is something more than the repeating thoughts of cruel revenge against the Burgesses. Seeing Alex stuck in an eternal nightmare did warm the soul but just not enough.  

When the sand made contact with his skin and he opened his eyes to see Lucien staring down at him, it made his heart sink. More so seeing the shambles his kingdom had come to. And as he sat on his throne, breathing in the dust of his castle there’s only thing he can think of.  

In his lap sits the arrow left by Love. The arrowhead is glowing bright red. He inspects it closely, there are as always names written on it. But, even in his authority as an Endless, only Cupid knows who this arrow belongs to. But why did she come to him with it...? 

She looked to be in utter disbelieve about the contents of the arrow. Like she feared it contents. Why did she keep coming back to him? Why did she leave the arrow with him and not take it with her? Doesn’t this arrow have a time and place to reach it’s target? Won’t the scales tip, the fates must know this.  

But in the sights he’s stuck in, he needs his powers now more than he needs Cupid. And there is always one person to ask, who would know where his own creation is. But what feels more cruel is the utter fear behind her eyes at the thought of Desire finding out where she is and who she’s talking to.  

It can wait...right?  

“My king, what is that you have?” Lucien asks, picking at her fingers. The deep vibration of his voice echos. “Lucien, what books do we have on Cupid?” The librarian’s brows furrow, “Desire’s first creature? Is that...?” She asks, holding out her hand to inspect the object. “It is...she was the first non-human to find me.”  

The creature isn’t sure what to say. She doesn’t know her master to be one with much sentiment. “Why didn’t she inform anyone?“ She asks, it would’ve helped to keep all creatures in the Dreaming. “She knows her place. She’s submissive, she was made that way.” Lucien goes to speak again but Dream interrupts her.  

“What confuses me more is why she went against him? And what will happen if Love itself has gone missing from the human world?” Lucien’s brows furrow. “My lord you have been gone for a century, don’t you wish to get your power back before we focus on different issues.”  

Suddenly his voice sounds stern and his eyes go dark. “Lucien. My devotion lies with the dreamers and if they have no love there are no dreams. If there are no dreams there is no love. Do not question me.” The woman looks taken back and seems to gulp. She keeps her head down and keeps out of the way. 

A pang of guilt hits him seeing Lucienne cower from him. He sighs and lets the arrow disappear again, somewhere easy for him to grab and hide again. “But-” he stops her from walking away. “-you’re right, Lucienne. If I go charging into Desire’s realm, without my tools, I’ll be captured again.”  

Dream stands up from his steps, his long black coat billowing behind him. “I need to find my tools.”  

If you want to be added to the taglist, just ask

Part 2~Part 4

[lets-try-some-writing]

I stan chaotic Earth but what about.. Cryptic Earth? Like one moment she's chaoticaly obnoxious but the next moment cryptic like the eldritch horror she is scaring crap out of Cron

Earth loves her maker, she adores him. He gave her life, and he guides her when she cannot guide herself. She creates to meet his high standards. He may sigh, but she knows he loves her too. She just wishes that sometimes he would be less strict.

"They shall go forth and devour."

"What are you talking about Earth?"

"The little ones shall follow the path of the origin of chaos. All of creation shall know their ingenuity."

"Earth-"

"G̷̝̀͛o̷̯͎͋̿ ̴̪̮̓f̶̺͍͑̎ó̷̞̟̿ṛ̵̾̉t̴̞̺̅ĥ̷̡̬̈ ̵̧̲̑̽m̷̝͔̑ȳ̷̨̝̚ ̸̰̅͘c̶̪͝ͅh̴̺̖̒í̸̠͑l̵̨̅͘d̶̲͗̋ŗ̸̳̊̌é̵͈̿n̴͔̳̓"

Sometimes Earth thinks her maker may be a bit out of touch. He doesn't seem to understand when she makes creatures that mimic him and then shows their skill. She does not understand why his emotions flutter in fear when her creations ravage one another, enforcing her vicious laws upon all the land. She does not understand why her maker detests her newest and most powerful children so.

She does not understand.

What is so wrong with her precious humans going forth to bring his will to all creation? Should they not worship the way of the Unmaker? Is it not the way of all creation to one day unravel? Humans are her greatest gift to her maker. For they shall go forth and shatter all. When they are done, they shall return to her maker, bringing forth their glorious works and the chaos they have wrought.

But then again, it is quite possible her maker is simply biding his time to praise her. Earth is very patient. She can wait until her efforts bring forth their bounty.

Earth is VERY patient.

[cast-you-dxwn]

The earth quakes before them,

The heavens tremble;

The sun and moon grow dark,

And the stars diminish their brightness.

The LORD gives voice before His army,

For His camp is very great;

For strong is the One who executes His word.

For the day of the LORD is great and very terrible;

Who can endure it?

Joel 2: 10-11

The Heavens crack open. The sky shatters into pieces, Creation reflected in countless jagged fractals of the very fabric of its own reality.

The patience of the Lord has limits, and His wrath is mighty. That which has bathed nations in fire, which has filled the valleys and canyons of the earth with the dead, which has covered the lands in rushing water.

A finality in purification.

A Creation made clean.

A star falls, and the very pillars of the universe tremble with its terrible impact. Heat, pressure, and a light so terribly radiant that it threatens to eclipse the very rays of all the suns of all the realms.

Metal to slag and stone to magma, all to dust and ashes in the face of the crater that now dominates the battlefield, a destruction only seen in Creation as the humans had clumsily learned the power of splitting the atom. The very threads of reality weep and whimper, and from the largest celestial body and the smallest atom come the words that herald the final doom of all things.

Revelation.

Retribution.

Judgement.

Michael.

“Awake. Awake. Rise up, O Jerusalem.”

The words drift through the smoke and dust, and the haze parts with one swift movement, as though the very particulates are commanded to make way by the voice that drifts through them. Like the Red Sea to Moses, a corridor stands now clear between the center of the crater and its observers, with walls of dust and ashes.

“You, which hast drunk at the hand of the LORD the cup of his fury; thou hast drunken the dregs of the cup of trembling, and wrung them out.”

There stands an angel.

His armor gleaming, his robes white as snow, as though untouched utterly by the destruction that swirls about him. Dark-striped wings fully unfurled, their massive expanse touching from edge to edge the deep depression that his entrance has struck into the solid ground.

His helmeted head does little to hide the light that burns in his eyes, supernovae unto themselves, scything across the battlefield with judgement and intent of reprisal.

In his right hand rests the hilt of his blade. The Blade. That which has no name save for those given by its foes. Nay. Its victims.

Foebreaker.

Daemonsbane.

Anathema.

His left, so it seems, is empty. Raising slowly, pale and calloused fingers curling in to his palm save for one. Pointing. Accusing. Condemning. All at the three who dare to stand before him. To stand against him.

They who had once been the most beloved. Not just to their Father, no. But to himself. But what, pray tell, is love in the face of duty? How stands fondness in the face of bitter betrayal? A trajectory following of days long past, when the eldest son had been called to take into account his brother.

“O Brother of Mine. Merry in rebellion. What now, has it cost you?”

He does not look to Lucifer as he speaks. His words not only his, but of the many. Countless voices that rise up from his throat, the cries of the faithful accusing and damning, even as he takes in the two who stand at the Fallen Kings side.

“O High Women of Heaven. One so burdened by duty, as we all must be, why now have you shrugged your shoulders? Why now do you strain against the yoke? Another, light and love incarnate, such tenderness given flesh and feather. Do you not now understand the joy of destruction? The holy uplifting of a righteous cleansing?”

His lips curl bitterly, his teeth bared in anger, and he gestures widely. To the destruction that mars their home, to the blood that spatters the street. When he speaks, his words are an echo, the same as he had spoken when he had once driven his blade into an unruly siblings chest.

“What have you done?”

@high-seraphims @hells-greatestdad

[theresattrpgforthat]

Fantasy Games - And My Struggle With Them.

This might be a surprise, but I struggle with fantasy games, especially high fantasy. I come across them a lot when I’m browsing Itch.io, and after a while, they start to blur together, more so than any other genre. I understand that for many folks, games like D&D were their entry into the hobby, and making a fantasy game is often the first step a game designer makes when they try to develop their own system. But I didn’t get into ttrpgs via a traditional fantasy game, and I think that regardless of the rules that accompany the game, I don’t get very excited about games that have knights and elves and dwarves and wizards.

As you might imagine, this can sometimes make things difficult when folks ask for fantasy-related ttrpg recommendations. Fantasy is a genre that encompasses so many different styles of play and genre, from gritty dungeon crawling to super-powered adventure to sad and tragic epics. Yet, because most of those sub-genres rarely appeal to me, I haven’t looked closely at very many of the games in my Sword & Sorcery & So Much More folder, which means trudging through the items there takes a lot longer when answering fantasy-oriented asks.

That being said, I don’t want to ignore fantasy games completely; I know that so many people find joy and fun in games set in a traditional fantasy world. So I’m going to talk about a few fantasy games that are very different from each-other and have very specific goals in mind, and I encourage people who see this to re-blog with their own favourite fantasy games and tell us what makes them special.

Also - if you have a fantasy game related request, please be kind if my response isn't all that you hoped it would be!

Tacticians of Ahm, by Meatcastle Games.

Tacticians of Ahm is a tactical combat-focused tabletop roleplaying game in the corrupt3d fantasy world of Ahm.

A bit-rotten blight has appeared in the Northern Sea and from it flows the Corrupt1on, fractured light and shattered shapes sowing chaos across the realm. As Tacticians, you alone are prepared to face the darkness spreading across the lands and reunite the scattered peoples of Ahm.

Tacticians of Ahm is for players who like a really satisfying combat, inspired by games like Fire Emblem and Final Fantasy Tactics, with grid maps to help you keep track of positioning and distance. This doesn’t meant that combat is long - it’s still fast-paced, using visual indicators like color to help you assess what kinds of things you can do in play: healing, damage, and special effects. Characters have interesting abilities that they gain as they level up, so this game is also probably good for folks who like watching their characters get more and more competent. Right now Meatcastle is grinding away at the game to make it more playable, and more full of art - so getting in on it now means that you’ll get to watch it grow.

Nexalis, by Cezar Capacle.

We invite you to step aboard your enchanted vessel and set sail on the ethereal ocean known as the Nectar. Nexalis calls you on an awe-inspiring journey across a universe filled with countless uncharted islands, each teeming with unique cultures, mysteries, and magical phenomena.

Nexalis is an otherworldly realm where islands drift amidst an endless cosmic ocean of magical plasma, the Nectar. The Nectar, pulsing with vibrant, ever-shifting colors, mirrors the celestial patterns that guide adventurers on their thrilling journeys. At the heart of this sea lies the Celestial Nexus, an entrancing vortex of astral energy that births islands and renews the world in a constant cycle of creation.

Nexalis is a fantasy game, but it’s an example of setting that feels vibrant and unique from traditional fantasy games - and yet it is also highly customizable. The game comes with oracles and random tables that you’ll use to generate interesting locations and problems to deal with as your drifters move from place to place. Characters are packaged in playbooks, compact tropes that will provide players with everything they need to know on a brochure. Finally, the game uses phases, moving from one kind of storytelling to another dependant on the kind of scene you’re about to play through.

Shadow of the Demon Lord, by Schwalb Entertainment.

The End Is Just the Beginning

Sometimes the world needs heroes. But in the desperation of these last days, the world will take all those it can get: heroes, blackguards, madmen, and whoever else is willing to stand against the coming darkness. Will you fight the demons or will you burn it all down and dance among the ashes? Who will you become when the world dies? 

Shadow of the Demon Lord opens a door to an imaginary world held in the grip of a cosmic destroyer. Enter a land steeped in the chaos and madness unleashed by the end times, with whole realms overrun by howling herds of beast-men, warped spirits freed from the Underworld, and unspeakable horrors stirred awaken by the Demon Lord’s imminent arrival. 

For fans of the grim, the gory, and the gritty, the setting of Shadow of the Demon Lord is post-apocalyptic, chaotic and messy. The presentation is representative of a traditional RPG: a big book with high-end full-colour art and plenty of lore to accompany the rules. You create your character using pieces of Ancestry to help you determine your attributes, and your Profession to determine your skills. The game is based on the d20, and relies on stat modifiers to try and get you over most rolls, and a milestone-like levelling system that ensures that everyone who plays levels up at the same time.

Shadow of the Demon Lord is very clearly a vehicle for horror, so if your table is one that likes being confronted by all kinds of horrible things in a hopeless quest to save… well something of the world, then you might like this game.

Songbirds 3e, by snow.

Songbirds 3e is a tabletop roleplaying game about undeath, supernatural powers, and the blue dreams of the moon. In the game, you create a strange survivor of the world who was chosen (or cursed) by Death. Spirits aren't able to pass on to the afterlife and grow monstrous with each passing day. You know the songs to send them on. You have the abilities that help you find them. You are the canary in the coal mine.

Songbirds is full of danger. It carries with it a tried and true method of OSR world-building in that the world makes itself known in the pieces of the game that you decide to pick up - the character curses you roll for, the ways damage can hurt you, the gear you carry, and the roll tables that answer so many questions about different steps of the game. Combat is meant to be simple but also deadly, and much of the fun of the game is in discovering what’s around the corner or what’s in the treasure chest in front of you. Songbirds takes inspiration from both fantasy and sci-fi, so if you like weirdness mixed in with your dungeon-crawls, you might like this game.

Trilogy, by Ben Moxon.

Trilogy is a tabletop RPG designed for epic fantasy campaigns. Build your world at the table, create characters to explore it and let the adventure commence.

Trilogy is designed specifically for players who want to discover their world in play rather than having to consult settings guides and books of existing lore. A world that lives and grows around you, shared by everyone at the table.

The media listed that inspired Trilogy include series such as Lord of the Rings, Malazan Book of the Fallen, and the Storm-light Archives; vast and detailed worlds full of complex cultural relations and heavy with conflict. The rules are derived from the PbtA framework, which means that much of the action is going to be character-driven and character-focused. This game is least likely to have puzzles a la dungeon-crawl, but what it does have is character arcs.

Character arcs are guiding lights for players, providing them with loose archetypes that they can use to help advance their characters. Each arc comes with positive and negative qualities that you can turn to when your character is at their best or at their worst. It also has an opening moment (which helps define your character to the audience) and a series of checkpoints in the form of narrative moments that generate character growth. I think the Arcs part of Trilogy is what makes it stand out, looking at character development at a new angle, and giving players plenty of prompts to help them get from point A to point B.

Jack Kills Giants, by Andrew White.

There’s no shortage of vagabonds who take coin for killing, but Giant Slayers… they’re a special breed. The coin is unfathomably good, you’d be more or less set for life should you bring one of those colossal beasts down.However, you’re just as likely to find yourself a quick and nasty death and a pauper’s funeral.

Those who decide the reward is worth the risk form up into small companies of strangers, spreading out the risks and sharing the spoils.Brought from all walks of life, those who survive past their first kill and choose to continue on the path grow into tight-knit bands, comrades in arms fighting for gold and glory.

But you aren’t one of that pantheon of successful slayers just yet. You’re just flat broke.

JACK KILLS GIANTS is a game of giant-slaying in the Fantasy Gig-Economy written and illustrated by Andrew White, with valuable contributions from Nakade & Cosmic Orrery Games. In Jack Kills Giants you won't play hardened adventurous heroes, you'll play everyday people, forced by a need to make cash to survive to chase after giants in exchange for generous bounties.

Jack Kills Giants does away with the broad possibilities of a generic fantasy game and zooms in on one particular element that the designer is interested in - a gig economy. Giant-killing is terrifying and horribly dangerous, but life is so brutal that you decide that it’s still worth doing. The game also focuses on the ways a world that has giants in it works that makes it special - for instance, some folks make a living carving up the bodies of slain giants and distributing the fat, bones, and other pieces into products that the world can use. For lovers of thoughtful world-building and purposeful adventuring, maybe check out Jack Kills Giants.

Also...

If you found these interesting, you might also like my Non-Western Fantasy recommendation post, as well as my general fantasy tag.

[thewalkingwillowtree]

Safe Haven

Series Part Listing Found Here

Neteyam x Original Na'vi Female Character

Summery: Seeking refuge, Xilä and her father venture to the lands of the Omatikaya clan, in the hopes that the Toruk Makto would be generous in allowing them to stay. This is her story about not only finding her strength, but finding love. 

Warning: This story contains smut, violence & abuse (please don't read if these topics will affect you)

Some characters have been aged up. Neteyam in particular is 23.

Xilä is my own creation.

~

Part 9 - Delicious

A squeal escaped Xilä when she was suddenly lifted from Neteyam’s lap. He sat her high up on his chest when he laid stretched out on his back. 

“Okay?” he asked, checking in.

She nodded with a little blush. It was one thing to be naked in front of him, but she was practically splayed right now- this was up close and personal. 

Soothing the skin of her outer thighs, he openly stared at the glistening between her legs- gold eyes darkening, nostrils flaring, lips licking in anticipation. 

“Do you even know how pretty you are?” he rasped, almost as if in a daze. 

Xi smothered a laugh. She’d never heard of one’s intimates called pretty before.

“Oh you think that’s funny? I’m completely serious, you know?” he teased with a low growl, leaning up to nip the flesh of her inner thigh. 

She hissed, and choked on a laugh.

“Come’re.” 

His large palms cupped her butt and pulled her even closer to him so that her spread knees landed on the grass on either side of his face- her core a mere inches away from his mouth. 

She felt slightly awkward. “Um, what do I do?” she asked hesitantly. 

“Nothing. You just enjoy it and if you’re not, we’ll stop,” he said, linking their tails together to give her some assurance.

When he spoke, puffs of air hit her directly, making her squirm a bit. “Oh, um…Alright.”

A shiver rocked her when he stared into her eyes and gave her a comforting kiss right against her soaked lips. 

He eased her into it with soft pecks and featherlight brushes of his lips. When she made no complaints he took it up a notch with little licks and grazes of his teeth. 

Neteyam groaned sinfully, because she was honestly downright delicious. “Fucking hell baby,” he mumbled, before instantly going in for more. 

At first, she simply stared down at the arousing sight of him between her legs while she got used to the new position and the sensation of his mouth doing wicked wicked things to her. But then her eyes were shutting closed and she was quickly and eagerly rocking in time with his ministrations. 

His pattern soon changed from gentle and slow to fast and deliberate. The flat of his tongue dragged along her slit over and over before he began to swirl, suck and playful nip her at hidden nub. 

One large hand curled to fasten on her hip, holding her firm to his mouth, the other sailing up to play with her pretty nipples. 

A loud arousing moan filled the air. Xilä arched, head lolling back and forth as her body rocked with pleasure. 

He was enjoying himself too it seemed- humming and smiling as he ate her out like a starved man, practically holding her up as she shook above him. 

Neteyam’s tongue was dangerous. A weapon, she thought. She panted and whined as she felt herself slowly climbing, getting closer and closer to the brink. 

With quick success he had her screaming and moaning out loud as if they were the only two people in existence. 

“Oh Great Mother!” she shouted when he sucked hard on her clit. “Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit!”

She fell back, palms flat on his abs to help hold herself up as she ground against his mouth. 

His laughter at her use of human swears and curses, sent a rippling vibration through her. 

“‘Teyam! I’m going to- !” 

Eyes squeezed shut and mouth wide open, Xilä came with a cry. Her body convulsed and eardrums went muffled as she shattered above him. 

But her betrothed had no intention of stopping though. Not giving her a moment to recover, he was continuing his feast with vigor, desperate for even more. 

Xilä jerked in his hold in shock, hips twitching to get away from the overstimulation.

“Teya-mmm, wait wait- oh FUCK!” she screamed as his tongue made its way deep inside of her- the warm, wet appendage vigorously working her. 

Neteyam was ruthless. Even when she buckled, unable to hold herself up any longer- he still kept firm grips, speeding up his tongue even faster. 

“Oh- mmm. Please- ple-” she begged and babbled incoherently, panting as her body moved on its own accord- hips furiously rotating and grinding in time with the rhythm of his unruly tongue. 

Eyes rolling and brain short circuiting from sheer pleasure, she unconsciously alternated between biting her lip and crying out loud with her jaw unhinged. 

The moment the tip of his tail made contact with her swollen bud, the same time he twisted a nipple- she exploded. 

Her screams echoed around their hideaway and Xilä sobbed as a powerful orgasm rocked her body, causing tears to leak from the corners of her eyes while she spasmed uncontrollably. 

Neteyam greedily lapped and licked, helping her through the waves while she withered in his strong grips.

When she seemed to have calmed, he sat up and gently eased her down to the ground between his propped up legs. Her own legs splayed out behind him, thighs on both sides of his hips- completely limp. 

Xi hid her face behind her palms with a little mewl when his tented front accidentally brushed her swollen center. She was still overly sensitive and experiencing tiny aftershocks. 

“When we move in together, we're going to have to get to a place far from our families…and probably anybody else,” Neteyam thought out loud as he observed her, massaging her aching thighs with a stupid proud grin on his face.

“Mm-Why?” she asked, a bit muffled, from behind her hands as she tried to catch her breath.

“You’re a screamer, baby. I have to practically gag you whenever we’re at your place, remember? I’d be a dead man if I didn’t- Jxo would kill me in a heartbeat.” 

Her hands fell away, gaze locking with his. He smirked, enjoying the shifting expressions crossing her face- she was too fucking cute, he thought. 

“I- well..” she was clearly embarrassed. 

He laughed. “It’s a good thing Xi, I like that about you. See I don’t even need to ask you if you enjoyed just now....your loudness told me everything.” He bit his lip apprehensively. “You did enjoy it, right? You weren’t faking…right?” 

Xi laughed so hard she snorted, wincing slightly when her movement caused their fronts to brush again. “I was not faking no, I thoroughly did enjoy it, yes,” she said grinning. “Your face is a mess though, ‘Teyam.” 

His own grin shone through as he proudly wiped at the slick shining on the skin of his nose, cheeks, jaw and chin, licking the remnants from around his lips. 

“Where’d you get that sudden potty mouth from sweetheart?” he taunted in retaliation to her smartass retort- she had sure cursed a whole lot while he ate her out. 

“Ask your tongue,” she sassed in response, causing him to cackle again. 

“Oh just for that I’m going to make you come again, right now. No more rest for you Miss. Sass.”

They both moaned lowly when he suddenly tugged her hips forward to roll his bulge along her slit.

“Teyam,” she purred.

“Feels good, sweetheart?” he asked in a strained tone, speeding up the rocking- the friction causing him to groan.

“So gooood,” she sighed out, enjoying the look on his face as he used her to his liking.

Lifting her hips slightly to get a better angle, she was practically his pleasure toy. He worked her up and down the length of his shaft through his now soaked loincloth.

“Fuck,” he grunted.

Eyes darkening dangerously, he stared at the sight of them rubbing together before trailing up the length body to find her gaze. “Please Xi,” he asked hoarsely.

He was holding back she realized, he looked somewhat insane- as if he were about to snap.

She reached a hand out for him and in one swoop she was in his arms, wrist linking behind his neck for balance. Xi cursed under her breath when the new angle cause him to rub directly against her clit.

“Teyam,” she called, cupping his face as he continued their rhythm. “Do what you need to do okay?”

“Are you sure?” he rasped.

“Yes,” she whispered against his lips.

With an animalistic growl he was leaning her backwards and bending forward to suck a nipple into his mouth. One of his hands reached down to release the cords on his loincloth and toss the material away.

Xi wanted nothing more than to pushed him back and stare at his bare form all day, but he was in control right now.

“Ah- fuck,” she hissed when he bit her breast a little to hard. All was forgotten however when he was suddenly rubbing her directly along his velvety, bare shaft. “Oh Eywa!” she mewled.

“Fuck Xilä,” he groaned, burying his face in her neck as he worked her hips against his.

He felt hard, thick and smooth as he dragged his ridiculous length along her slit with deep strokes, from base to tip.

Xilä clung to him in desperation. She tried her best to catch a glimpse of the squelching mess between them, she could feel him smearing droplets of his seed.

Neteyam had tried his best to hold out as long as he could- he really did, but it was fucking difficult. Dragging her in for a biting kiss, his rhythm became erratic as he spiraled.

“Shit, I’m coming,” he groaned.

“Me to,” she panted, puffs of air hitting his lips.

They both came with cries of, “Oh God! Oh fucking hell Xilä!”

And, “Neteyam! Oh shit, shit, shit!”

Falling back and splayed out on the grass as they caught their breaths, they both grinned with little giggles of laughter, staring into each other’s eyes.

It was obvious they had thoroughly enjoyed themselves, their matching grins seemed almost permanent.

Xilä’s hand accidentally brushed the splatter of come on her stomach. Leaning up on an arm, she swirled her pointer finger through the mess in fascination.

Popping it in to her mouth, her tail did it’s usual happy wag whenever she had something yummy.

Neteyam gawked when she suddenly began to wipe and suck, more of his seed. Humming as if she were having the tastiest meal.

She froze with a finger in her mouth when she caught his stare. “What?” she mumbled, turning shy.

He shook his head with a wild smile. “Having a good time there?” he teased.

She blushed but rolled her eyes fondly. “I like it. Can I taste it from there next time?” she asked frankly, gesturing to his shaft.

His jaw dropped a little and he felt himself twitching at the thought. “Um, sure. If you want to.”

“I want to,” she said eagerly. “And can I try the hand job too?”

That had Neteyam choking on his saliva. He sat up and stared down at her.

“Xi…baby, please don’t take this the wrong way, I’m just being curious….but ah- have you been with someone before? Maybe back at Li’ona?”

She grinned. He looked a little jealous right now honestly. “Are you wondering why I know what a hand job is?”

He looked away with slightly purple tinged cheeks. “Maybe,” he said simply.

She sat up and straddled a propped up thick thigh. “It’s only ever been you, ‘Teyam,” she said, cupping his jaw. “I asked D’avi to educate me on a few things when we’d been fooling around for a while.”

“Oh. You can ask me from now on alright? I like it when you do,” he admitted honestly.

“Okay,” she agreed, leaning in to accept his peck.

“We are definitely going to have to clean up before heading back. Sweetheart, you reek of me,” he grinned, sniffing at her neck before making her squeal when he playfully bit her.

~

When Neteyam and Xi returned to Camp later that afternoon, he first made his way to the training grounds to check in on his trainee warriors. 

After wrapping up a few more of his responsibilities, he popped home to use the private spring behind their tent, happy no one was home at the time to smell him.

A few of his team members had given him odd looks during his short meeting with them. He knew he still had Xi’s sweet scent all over him. 

Grinning like an idiot when his mind wandered to his pretty wife to be as he cleaned up, he remembered their time spent together that day. They had used the little pool of water to somewhat clean up after a few more rounds of orgasms. Suffice to say it wasn’t enough. 

He was truly the luckiest man alive he thought. 

Neteyam redressed in only a clean loincloth rather than all his other articles, he’d be going straight to Xi’s later on anyway.

When he entered the main room again, he noticed his mother and youngest sister were home now. They were giggling and looked to be enjoying themselves as they played with a few of Tuk’s dolls. 

“Tuk,” he called, squeezing water from his hair with a clean drying cloth towel.

The little one turned her back on him, dropping the doll she’d been playing with to fold her arms with a grumpy pout. 

Shit, she was still mad at him.

His mother shot him a look from her relaxed position. Looks like this was his battle to fight.

“Tuktirey,” he tried again, crouching to her level. “I’m sorry baby sis, I was a real jerk this morning and you have every right to be mad……I promise I’ll make it up to you, however you like.”

She side eyed him, peaking in interest. “You have to say you’re sorry again,” she said with a sudden fiery glare. 

“I’m really really really sorry, Tuk,” he said earnestly. 

“And you have to take me for a ride on Buddy,” she continued. 

“Done. Deal,” he agreed, reaching out to shake on it, but she ignored his outstretched arm. 

“My friend Täylley wants a ride too,” she bartered. “And we want tricks…not a smooth, careful ride.” 

He hid his pained sigh. “One trick only.”

“Five,” she frowned. 

“One.”

“Four.”

“One, Tuk.”

“Two?”

“Fine, two and no more. Now come on, let’s shake on it.”

She grinned and jumped up to leap into his arms instead. 

Neytiri smiled fondly at her children, she enjoyed moments like these. Neteyam shot her an apologetic expression over Tuk’s head and she nodded to let him know it was fine and that all was forgiven. 

“Hey mom, where’s dad at?” he asked as Tuk settled comfortably in his lap, shoving a doll in his hand with the intention for them to play. 

“He is meeting with the council. They are reviewing the extension plans again.”

Before he could respond however, Tuk was quickly capturing his attention again. 

“Here Teyam, I’m the mommy and you're the baby. You have to pretend to be sick so Tsahìk can come and heal you. Mommy, you be Tsahìk this time,” the six year old said quite bossily as she swapped and handed out the dolls accordingly. 

~

The conference tent was probably the grandest one in all of the others of their village- including the Sully’s home. Its canvased exterior was a deep blood red, carefully dyed and woven by a team of the clan’s best weavers and seamstresses. 

Neteyam stared at it as he stayed hidden in the shadows of the night. He was patiently waiting for all the council members to trickle out. He knew his father always stayed behind to review his notes, or simply contemplate- take a break away from everything. 

The Olo'eyktan and the council utilized the tent on a daily basis, and so the interior was decorated just as grand as the outside. It was one massive room unlike other tents which were usually sectioned off into smaller rooms. 

Jake had had a well crafted, massive, high table built and installed in the center, which was surrounded by wooden chairs with upholstered leather seats and backs. It had taken the other members some getting used to at first, but they quickly adapted to the use of high chairs.  

The room was well lit and tastefully decorated. Maps, plans, holographic tablets, little bowls of nuts, seeds and dried fruit, all littered the surface of the table. 

Jake Sully sat at the head of the oval shaped table, peering over what looked like blueprints with a frown on his face. 

Knocking on a wooden beam, Neteyam announced his presence. “Sir.” 

“Hey,” his father greeted, eyes flickering to give him a once over. “You alright? Gwuyle said you had an emergency this morning.”

“Hm? Oh yeah, right. It’s all sorted,” Neteyam assured, momentarily forgetting he’d left in the middle of a team review. 

Jake shot him a knowing look, tinged with amusement. “Xilä’s, okay?”

Brain short circuiting for a second Neteyam huffed a little breath of air and rubbed the back of his neck guiltily. “She is, yes. How’d you know?”

His father simply shrugged. “I have eyes, son.”

Neteyam made his way over and took the seat adjacent to Jake. “She’s actually why I’m here. I- um. I wanted you to be the first to know but ah- I’ve made my decision, Sir,” he revealed, heart thumping in anticipation of his father’s response. 

Jake, understanding his words, didn’t seem shocked at all. If anything he simply asked, “Does she make you happy?” 

“Unbelievably,” Neteyam replied with a little laugh. 

“And you love each other? You’re both sure about this step?” 

“Yes,” he said without pause. 

A smile broke out on the Olo'eyktan’s face. “Then that’s all that matters.”

“That’s it? And…you’re fine with who I chose?”

“It’s not my choice son, it’s yours, but if you’re asking if I approve, then hell yeah. Xi will be happily welcomed in our family. I like her. I like her for you, honestly.” 

“Yeah?” Neteyam asked with his own growing grin to match his father's. It turned into a frown just as quickly however. “Dad. I’m a little worried about T'shteyo, though.”

“What about him? This is good. If it weren’t for Xilä still being tied to him, I’d have had his ass kicked out of here a long time ago,” Jake said in frustration.

“He is still acting out?” Neteyam frowned. He had been avoiding the man like the plague, purposely staying out of any gossip topics surrounding him too. 

“Acting out is a joke. The asshole keeps picking fights for no goddamn reason and he’s stirring up shit with some of the unmated women. How they could possibly sleep with a man like him baffles me….I want him gone.” 

Jake took a sip of the fermented fruit wine he usually kept stashed before offering some to his son. “When are you and Xi thinking of completing the bonding ceremony?”

“Soon,” Neteyam responded. “I want her to focus on completing her rites first.”

Jake nodded in agreement. 

“Sir, I don’t want this getting back to T'shteyo just yet. He’s going to know he’s about to lose the only thing keeping him here still and I don’t need him lashing out or trying to get to Xi……I need your permission to bypass the rules of getting his approval. I’m going to still have to ask Jxo and Sal of course, but- bindingly, she’s still his daughter.” 

Jake thought for a couple of seconds. “I don’t see why not. It’s fine with me. We’ll take it to the council under an oath of secrecy until then and we’ll just have to make sure both families keep their mouths shut.”

Neteyam smiled in relief. “I appreciate your help in all of this. Really, dad.”

“Of course....Neteyam I am so happy for you, son…God, look at you, you’re all grown up,” he said, staring at his son in slight disbelief. “.....Shit, you’re going to me all emotional now.”

They both laughed at that, shaking their heads at Jake’s theatrics. 

“Just wait till your mother finds out, fair warning.” 

Neteyam groaned as he slumped back in his seat, palm falling over his eyes. “Oh Eywa, she’s not the only one I’m worried about. Between grandmother, Salveen, D’avi and Kiri, I’m going to have a fucking riot on my hands. Oh God and then there’s Tuk.” 

“Yeah I don’t envy you right now,” his father joked, allowing him his slip of a curse word. 

Getting to his feet, he said, “Alright I’m going to head out. Don’t stay too late, you know mom will come get you.” 

“Yeah yeah and don’t come crying to me when Jxo tries to kill you,” Jake taunted, causing his son to freeze. “Oh you didn’t think I’d notice you missing from your room almost every night? You didn’t think I’d have an inkling as to where you might possibly be sneaking off too?” he asked, raising an eyebrow in amusement. 

Neteyam tilted his head to hide his sudden blush, giving a fake cough to cover up the embarrassment he was feeling at having his father know what he’d been up to. 

“Um- yeah, Jxo and I kind of have an understanding I guess,” he said sheepishly.

Jake’s ears twitched in interest. “And that is…?”

“If I don’t get caught, I don’t get killed.”

A bark of laughter echoed around the tent. “Well alright then.” He shook his head, “I am so not looking forward to when idiots start coming around Kiri and Tuk.”

“Dad,” Neteyam said seriously, because it was a fucking scary thought. 

“Let’s just hope they’re not as good a sneak as you, yeah?” Jake joked again, somewhat seriously. 

“Gee thanks dad,” he said sarcastically, making his way to the exit.

“Son,” Jake called before he left. “All jokes aside, thanks for telling me the good news. I’m proud of you and again, I’m happy for you, truly,” he said sincerely, getting to his own feet, to close the distance and give his son a fatherly hug. “I’m looking forward to officially meeting my daughter in law.”

Neteyam cleared his throat under the guise of feeling emotional. He patted his father back, returning the affection. “Thanks dad. For everything.” 

~

Sneaking into Xi’s room went without a hitch. Neteyam considered himself a pro by now- his dad was right it seemed. He hoped to goodness no idiot like him came around his sisters. He quickly shook off the thought. 

Xi was still up, despite the late hour- practising her sewing skills on what looked like a new craft in her hands. 

Sewing was Salveen’s pastime hobby, so it was no surprise to him when Xi asked the elder to teach her the skill. She had subtly mentioned her interest a few times, so he’d given her the nudge to try it out herself. 

Despite the clearly sleepy look on her face, she beamed at him when he entered the dimly lit room. 

“Hi,” she whispered, setting aside her project- tail wagging at the sight of him as she scooted to make room for him. 

“Hi sweetheart,” he murmured softly, crashing onto her bed and immediately tugging her into his arms. He nuzzled her neck with a deep inhale. “You smell delicious,” he commented. 

“Spider let me use the hot water back at the labs for fun. They’ve got weird things like shower gel and shampoo instead of soapnut balm or bark, but I like it. Apparently they brought enough with them from Earth to last them a few decades. And they have an indoor waterfall that they can control, too. It can turn hot or cold or even in between,” she said in wonderment as she stroked his slightly damp braids. “The human lady, Casey, even showed me how to dry my hair with her blow dryer device.” 

“That was nice of her. How’d you end up back there? I thought you and Kiri were going to the hot springs,” he asked, pulling back to see her face.

“We were but we took a detour and then Spider ended up showing us their updated dorm showers. It shoots jets now…but I didn’t like it with the jets though,” she said with a little scrunched up nose. 

He smiled in response, pressing a tiny kiss to the tip of her nose- one large hand sailing up her stomach to tuck into her top.

“They know by the way,” she said hesitantly. “Kiri was all grossed out because apparently I stunk of you, her words, not mine.”

“They would’ve found out soon anyway. I just hope they keep their mouths shut.”

“Yeah, they promised not to say anything. They are happy for us. Kiri says we will be sisters now,” Xi said happily.

“Yes. And you will be my wife,” he grinned. “Any regrets yet?” he teased. “I should probably give you the lowdown on what exactly you signed yourself up for.”

“Mmmmm,” she hummed, pretending to think about it. “Nope. Like Tuk says, no take backs. You are going to be stuck with me I’m afraid. I don’t think anything you throw my way will change my mind.”

“Damn,” he muttered in faux disappointment. “I guess you’re right….I’m going to be stuck with you for good,” he said, breaking character with an infectious grin, leaning down to kiss her. 

Her palm slid from his neck to cup his face, while he rolled on top of her completely, pulling her thigh up his hip. 

“You taste sweet,” she said, licking her lips as if trying to figure out what he tasted like. 

“I had a little fermented fruit wine earlier.”

“Oh, l like it,” she replied, serging up for another taste, sighing pleasurably when he licked his way into her mouth. 

The kiss was broken when she pulled away to yawn, causing him to do the same. 

“Tell me a story, please?” she asked sweetly, settling in against her sheets a bit more, hooking her ankle over the inside of his thigh. 

He smiled at her request. She was always asking about his childhood and the life he lived as an adolescent. 

At first when she began asking, he’d ask her to tell him something back about her own, but then he’d feel guilty because his were all good, fun, happy memories, while hers weren't. 

When he expressed his guilty feeling to her, she told him his stories made her happy, it was her own little way at reliving her childhood- her innocent rewrite and escape. And so from then on he indulged her whenever she asked. 

“Hmmm, alright let’s see...Oh I know a little one. So this one time- or should I say the first time Lo’ak decided to run away from home-”

 Xilä muffled a laugh behind her palm. “Wait, how old was he?”

“Three, four maybe? I was five at the time I think, but yeah he had thrown this massive tantrum and got put in time out as punishment.”

He paused quickly to explain to Xi what time out meant before continuing.

“So he packed up his shit- or should I say his toys, announced he was running away and went all the way to Sal and Jxo’s…who were right next door at the time,” he said with a chuckle, making Xi laugh too.

“Anyway my parents hadn’t noticed he'd left. But I did, I noticed…So I grabbed my little practice bow, and I headed out as if it were some far land I had to venture to find my long lost missing brother,” he said with an eye roll as if he couldn’t believe himself. 

Xi stifled another giggle.

“When I got there Sal was eagerly doting on him, feeding him the biggest fruit sweets I’d ever seen, pinching his cheeks and calling him handsome- it’s stupid, but I thought, this is amazing, I want that too. So I decided I was going to run away from home as well...We got busted not even five minutes after that,” he snorted.

“I remember when I first met Salveen, she said you two were always running away to her home,” she laughed.

“It was fun....But that first time though, mom was all worried and crying, hugging us as if we’d been gone for years.”

“You two are her babies,” Xi said softly. 

Noticing her expression, he couldn’t help but ask, “Do you want? Kids, I mean.”

“Oh, um. Yes…but-” she frowned. “‘Teyam, I didn’t have a very good mother, I don’t know if I’ll be any good at motherhood.”

“Screw her,” he said seriously. “You’ve got the most amazing mothers around you to help you through anything. Sal, D’avi, my mom, my grandmother and you’ve got me. We’ll figure it out together- when the time comes of course. There’s no rush and no pressure. Okay?”

“Okay,” she croaked, feeling a tiny bubble of emotion loge in her throat. This was one of the many reasons why she loved him. He never let her think negatively about herself- he was her biggest supporter. “I love you,” she said seriously. 

His expression melted. “I love you,” he replied in equal honesty. 

They laid there for another hour, whispering about their future, sharing ridiculous stories while they tried to stifle their giggles. Like a maddening force, they soon found themselves in a heated make out session that had Neteyam quite amused. 

Xi was going down for the count- she was tired and fighting sleep. He counted three yawns in the last few minutes he’d been feasting on the skin of her neck. She lazily dragged him back to her mouth- tongue pushing through the barrier of his lips. 

“Mm, okay. Bedtime,” he said, breaking their locked lips, far too quickly for her liking. 

“What? Why?” she frowned, wiggling a hand between their bodies to reach into his loincloth. “I thought we’d- hey!” she protested loudly when he gripped her wrist, halting her pursuit by pinning her to the sheets.

“Shhh,” he shushed against her lips, nipping her bottom lip lightly. He waited a beat, one highly trained ear straining to hear if Jxo had heard her outburst, shoulders slumping in relief when it seemed like he hadn’t. “You can’t get me killed just yet baby, I want to marry you, remember?” 

She blushed, hearing the human term for the mating ceremony. “Sorry…um can we continue now?” she asked in a hushed whisper, trying to grind on the leg between hers. 

He huffed an amused laugh, pressing his thigh against her bare center to give her a little more friction, causing her to moan quietly. “Xilä, you are a greedy little thing, you know that? I made you come five times for the day already. Six, if you count the little one.” 

“So?” she snapped, trying to wiggle her wrist free. 

“You’re tired Xi. You need to sleep baby.”

“Just one, please?” she pleaded, weaponizing her eyes, to peer up at him through her lashes. 

“Fine, but I get to choose how you come, and if you make a single sound I am stopping,” he threatened seriously.

“Yes. Okay,” she agreed, nodding eagerly, tail thumping along his skin, begging him to do something already. 

~

A child was being chased. Hoots and howls echoed behind her as she ran through the night. “Mother! Mother!” she cried out, trying desperately to catch up to the fleeing woman in front of her. 

An arm wrapped around the little girl's cloak, yanking her backwards as she flailed and kicked and screamed. 

“No! No! Mother! Please don’t go! Don’t leave me mother!” 

She fought hard against the hold of the person behind her, eyes locked on the silhouette of her mother heading straight into the Dead Forest. 

Not once did she look back. Not once. 

“Mother!” she sobbed bitterly, fat tears staining the cloth around her nose and mouth. 

The person behind her was far stronger. They dragged her pathetic form by the scruff of her neck. Hot scorching dirt burning her through her cloak covered body. “No! No!”

“NO! Let me go! Let me go!”

“Xilä! Xilä! Wake up sweetheart. Hey hey, you’re safe. You’re fine. Look at me! Eyes, Xilä!”

Xilä’s eyes snapped open, locking on a petrified looking Neteyam. She panted as hot tears rolled down her cheeks. She had apparently been pulled into a seated position because over his shoulder she saw Jxo who looked just as scared as she felt. 

“Xi, darling,” said a gentle voice.

Turning to her left she saw Salveen crouched right next to her, brushing her sweat slicked hair out of her face, concerned eyes tearing up. “It’s just a dream, alright? You are safe. Say it with me, Xi. I am safe.”

“I am safe,” Xilä echoed in a hoarse whisper, face crumpling in relief. Needing skin to skin comfort, she reached out to Neteyam who instantly pulled her into his lap, folded legs on either side of his. 

Face hidden in his chest, her arms wound tight around his waist while he cupped her neck with one palm under her hair, the other rubbing soothingly up and down the span of her back- her tail blindly finding and curling around his.

 “Baby,” he breathed against the top of her head, rocking them a little.  

Salveen sniffled as she continued to stare at the broken girl in his arms. “That’s the second night in a row,” she rasped. 

“What do you mean?” Neteyam frowned, head snapping to her. “She had one yesterday?”

She nodded. “I don’t know what could have triggered it. She came home crying but wouldn’t say what happened. Then she was fine. We didn’t come home until late, but by then you lot had all packed up and left. I don’t know if it’s related.” 

Neteyam’s ears flattened to his head. The only thing he knew that happened yesterday was her run in with Leati. 

“When was the last time she had one before then?” he asked. 

“Not for months,” Jxo answered, stepping forward with his arms folded to have a closer look at Xi. “Probably not since the first few weeks she moved in.”

“That’s right,” his wife agreed. “Tsahìk usually checked in regularly until they stopped- they still have their sessions of course which we thought has been helping.”

When Xilä stayed that first month with his grandmother, almost every night she suffered from terrible terrible nightmares. It was a side effect from her past trauma apparently. 

After he asked Sal and Jxo to take her in, Mo’at had sat all three of them down- along with his father who wanted to be present, to discuss Xi’s wellbeing. Her healing was not a one and done deal she’d told them. It would be a long mental and emotional journey. 

Mo’at had coached them through certain scenarios and how to help Xi through them. They were all willing and ready to take on active roles in her healing process.

Xi also had weekly sessions with the healer since then, where they’d talk through her past- helping Xi to open up and face old wounds embedded deep within her. 

“What are you doing here by the way?” Salveen asked him finally, scrutinizing the way he held her adoptive daughter. “Why did you call her baby?”

When she and Jxo had run over after being awoken by Xi’s cries, Neteyam’s presence hadn’t even registered to her. She was too focused on Xilä’s petrified state. 

Neteyam swallowed and looked down at Xi’s now sleeping face- her cheek stuck flush against his chest. 

Jxo rolled his eyes and answered for him. “The skxawng has been sneaking in almost every night, Sal.”

Salveen’s eyes widened when she realized what he was insinuating. “Wait- are you two...?” Her pointer finger moved from Neteyam to Xilä. “And you KNEW?” she hissed at her husband, pointing at him accusingly. “You didn’t even say anything! How long have you been hiding this from me?!” she whisper-yelled as not to wake Xilä. 

Neteyam watched amused as the big, gruff Jxo spluttered, pointed ears falling low while he tried to explain himself. 

“What exactly are your intentions, young man?” she snapped, cutting off her husband to zero in on Neteyam again. “I will not have you trapezing in and out of here whenever you feel like it. Xilä is not some-”

“I would like to have her as my mate,” he said, cutting off the elder’s ramble. 

Both Jxo and Salveen stared at him in shock. 

“It’s um- well for one, this is not exactly how I wanted to ask for permission,” he joked mildly, titling Xi down a little, so that she nestled comfortably in the crook of his arm- he didn’t want to put her down just yet. 

He sent a quick prayer of thanks to Eywa that they were both dressed when the two elders came rushing in because the glare Jxo was shooting at him right now would have had anyone else quivering. He knew if he were naked, it would have only made matters worse.  

“Jxo, Sal. I’m in love with Xilä,” he admitted sincerely. “I want to build a future with her. I want to take care of her and I want to love her for the rest of my life.”

Sal’s fingertips covered her lips, tears springing in her eyes while Jxo’s face relaxed somewhat. 

“If you could grant me your permission, I would forever be grateful,” Neteyam finished, his gaze darting back and forth between the two of them. 

“Oh, ‘Teyam,” Sal sighed out, as if it were the most romantic speech she’d ever heard. 

Jxo cleared his throat, avoiding Neteyam’s earnest expression. “I want to talk to Xilä first, before I give my blessing.”

“That’s fair,” Neteyam agreed, taming his smile when he noticed the man trying to hide his own emotions. 

“Come on Sal…let’s, let them rest,” the gruff elder said somewhat hesitantly. 

“But- but he just confessed his love and-”

“I know, I know darling, but it’s late and we all need rest,” he said gently, helping his mate to her feet. “Eywa knows I’ll need it to have to deal with all this in the morning,” he grouched. 

“Alright. Goodnight dear,” she bid to the young Na’vi while being guided out of the room.

“Night, Sal.”

“Keep your fucking hands to yourself,” Jxo warned in an undertone. “….And make sure she’s alright,” he said somewhat softer before leaving them alone. 

~

What do we think.....?

So, this chapter honestly was not planned at all. What is now Part 10 was supposed to be Part 9, but my writing kind of ran away with me and Boom, now this part is here.

It was getting a bit too long, so the ending continues in the next part.

If you're wondering, and little spoiler alert, her asshole father is back in Part 10. So some drama to come.

Also I'm realizing that this fic may turn out a bit longer than expected.

Anywhoooo, as always, please share your thoughts in the comments, I love hearing from you all :)

Tags: @jakesullyfatjuicypeen @granddearduck @riatesullironalite @strawberri-blonde @earthling55 @innercreationflower @duckworthbean @gyuventure @btsiguess-kpop

If you'd like to be tagged or I forgot you by accident, please let me know.

[su-revived]

ATTENTION EVERYONE! Major update.

As you have seen above i have redesigned Tektite, but no one really asked why she's an elf and or why her gem is in her Scythe. well the reason why is because. as of next year i will be putting the AU on indefinite hiatus. meaning that after chapter 4 ends in 46 pages there will most likely no longer be updates.

What is the reason for this? well after some lengthy discussions with big name artists about my AU i was told that the sheer scope of my AU and the immense changes to the lore of SU making my story completely different than anything in the show i would be better off taking my notes and lore and reforging them into an original concept.

with that i mulled it over and asked the art team and we all agreed we should, so we have secretly been crafting an entire world and story from scratch! and i will tell you that is no understatement we have an original setting, power system, characters and story slowly being filled out. my goal is to craft a setting that doesn't just fit the narrative of a single story but is a fully fleshed out world that i can have multiple stories running in it. much like a DnD world with adventure paths and novels.

Setting - The comic will take place withing a High fantasy world akin to Dungeons and Dragons, complete with magical creatures, and mixes of technology and magic in fun an interesting ways. The world is not only filled with mortal and magical races but Gods live amongst them carving out kingdoms for their ideals or pillaging and destroying other gods creations. in order for these gods to come to the mortal world they had to shed the vast majority of their powers and godly essence and confine their soul within a Soul gem that sources their powers and allows the creation of divine children, the gods have domains that mortals participating in these domain activities gives them power. for example the god of the forge gains power from craftsmen working metal and creating artwork of the forge!

Some gods covet the powers of other gods and seek their destruction shattering their soul gem and consuming their soul (Oh no!), if a gods physical body is destroyed their soul gem will use their stored power to manifest a new one but if the god is too weak or is otherwise unable to reconstitute themselves they will opt to have a mortal or divine being absorb their soul and allow them to ascend to take their place.

The main story will follow a 5 Person party as they adventure across the lands discovering the secrets of their past and becoming stronger to eventually save the world from destruction. seeing many good and evil gods along the way experiencing different cultures and diverse landscapes.

The art team and I are super excited to bring this to everyone and you will get to see new character concept art going forward and i hope you all enjoy this even more than the AU :heart:

Love @Mod Joe and the Art team

[freemilkshakesposts]

I can't bear the thought of being without you

⚠️Warning⚠️: Suggestive content

Levi x Reader (Angst)

Summary: Your partner, Captain Levi, ended your relationship, convinced that love is beyond his reach as humanity's strongest. His abrupt return prompts questions; wasn't he the one who ended the relationship? Nonetheless, the core question persists: will you embrace him back into your life?

It pains me... almost always and never. It hurts almost always... and never. The creation of such a beautiful love story, now obliterated to nothingness. A forgotten love. Fuck, I can't bear it any longer.

I seized his letter, reclining upon the sofa in a state of desolate contemplation. That wretched slip of paper, a tormenting specter, beckoned me once more into the cruel illusion that he might still want me.

A knock. A gentle rapping, almost tentative, upon the door. It bore a familiarity that stirred memories within. It couldn't be-

"Y/N." The voice called from beyond the door

Shit, it was Levi. Had he not been the very one to sever our ties? Had he not been the one to retreat from this tale of ours, a coward too afraid to pen the next chapter? Ignore him.

Another knock. Then another. And another still. Ignore him... I must resist... resist.

I flung the door open, and there he stood. An angel, a vision of beauty, a masterpiece of human form. Those maddeningly beautiful eyes-like a tempestuous ocean on a cold night, so invigorating. The very eyes that once devoured me, ravished my mind, watched me surrender to him. Now, it seemed, that was all gone. Or was it?

"Y/N, I-" He gasped, his gaze locking onto yours, those eyes penetrating.

Is he pleading? Well, that's a novelty.

"It's already done, Levi. It was you who declared we could no longer intertwine our fates," I retorted, beginning to push the door shut against his face. Yet, his leg swiftly wedged itself between the door, desperately trying to keep it open.

"Please, Y/N, just let me in. Let me talk to you," he insisted, his voice now edged with a steely resolve.

Allow me to welcome him back into my sacred realm, a world he once shattered, tainted, and poisoned. Yet, I cannot deny my longing for his presence; his absence only led to its decay. He was its guardian, nurturing every facet, even cultivating delicate roses. Without him, the garden lay barren, devoid of life and sterile. Yet, when I dared to invite him back, he breathed new life into it, illuminating its darkness. He was, and still are, my entire universe.

"Step inside," I murmured, coaxing him in with a deliberate gesture, widening the door to signify his welcome into my land.

"Shit, it's freezing in here. You don't feel the cold in here? he asked, genuine concern in his eyes. Suddenly, I realised it too; the icy grip of this place enveloped us, a frozen realm adrift in frigid waters.

But who cares? This chill suits me just fine. I could stay cold forever, in this frozen expanse, for eternity if I wanted. It's my space, my choice, forever and always.

"If you came here to complain Levi, you better turn around and walk away now. This is your one shot to say your piece." My words dripped with venom, my tone desperate to assert control, to reclaim the palace he had tried to take from me.

His lips curled into a rare smirk in response to my remark. With deliberate steps, he closed the distance between us, his touch tender as he lifted my chin with care.

"I can't bear the thought of being without you, Y/N," Levi pleaded, his stormy eyes welling with emotion.

I gasped when his grasp tightened around my waist, drawing me nearer until we were intertwined, our bodies melding into one. Resist.....resist. Yet, I wanted those precious eyes on me again, watching me submit to him, enchanted by me. I couldn't fathom leaving him.

Taking hold of the sides of his shirt, I pulled him closer, our lips meeting in a desperate embrace. In that moment, nothing else mattered as we melted into each other, mouths crashing together, hands roaming without restraint, pulling each other closer.

"I could never, ever leave you, Levi. I fucking couldn't. I missed you so much." My voice quivered, delicate as a small vessel caught in a tempest.

I wanted him again. I needed us to be again. I craved everything we had-the nights we secluded ourselves in our insular world, locked together, ravenous for one another, consuming each other until we were nothing but hollow vessels, sustained solely by the residue of our intoxicating performance. But reality always finds a way to swiftly jerk me back, yanking me from my fantasies, forcing me to confront the unforgiving present.

He is a soldier. And invariably, he will never return to me. Duty trumps love, always, when you're entangled in the cloak of heroism. Duty reigns supreme for humanity's strongest soldier.

I clasp the letter once more, my fingers trembling as they trace the words that dance across the page. His handwriting is so delicate, so impeccably neat. It is a cherished relic, more precious than any treasure, unattainable even by the wealthiest of royalty.

Unattainable-that is the price tag affixed to our relationship.

My chamber will forever be cold; I shall always find myself shivering. This, I confess, I do not favor.