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ihavethedreamies · 6 months

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Peach | Juicy Fruit | Jaemin

Na Jaemin - NCT Dream

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~2.5k

Pairing: Jaemin x AFAB!Reader

Genre: Reader-Insert, Smut, Established Relationship, Porn without Plot

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Swearing, Kissing, Oral (M! & F! Receiving/Anal), Anal Play, Sex Toys (Butt Plug, Butterfly Vibrator), Deepthroating/Face-Fucking, Rough Sex, Squirting, Daddy Kink (he calls himself that once), Unprotected Sex (Don’t!!)

Summary: Jaemin isn't too happy his girlfriend doesn't like peaches…

Author's Note: This series was supposed to be of drabbles, at least this is the longest.

This is only vaguely based off of Smoothie…I say this because I got the idea for a fruit theme, but past that its unrelated.

-> Series Hub <-

🍉 Mark 🍉

🍇 Renjun 🍇

🍌 Jeno 🍌

🍒 Haechan 🍒

🍓 Chenle 🍓

🍍 Jisung 🍍

I am cross-posting this on Archive. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other site. Happy reading!

"You really don't like peaches?" Your boyfriend looked at you, looked utterly dejected at this new information. You sighed, flapping the produce bag so it would open, holding it to him. He dumped the five peaches into the bag he had carefully cradled in his arms and then added two more for good measure. As you put the bag in the cart you shrugged.

"I will eat them sometimes. They just are…weird."

"Weird how?" Jaemin took the cart from your grasp so he could push it for you.

"Why are they fuzzy?" You were a bit ashamed to admit why you disliked them so much. The texture was just so odd, it was like velvet. And you hated velvet too, it was unnatural. You much preferred nectarines, of a similar vein but NOT fuzzy.

"But they are so sweet and juicy…" He stopped to send you a mischievous look, "like you." He booped your nose with his finger then continued on, leaving you staring after him in disgust.

"Why do I love you?" You mumbled, trudging after him.

"Because I'm sweet and juicy too." He replied way too casually. You rolled your eyes and you two continued to shop, eventually getting the canned food. You grabbed a couple of different things, and you watched him put a can of pre-cut peaches in.

"We're buying fresh ones." You took it back out so he would put it back.

"These aren't fuzzy, maybe you'll like these." Jaemin tipped the can back and forth in your face, putting it in the cart once again. They weren't expensive, so you just let it happen. In the candy isle, you looked for your favorite kind and he came over with some Japanese brand of chewy candies, and they were peach flavored.

"Seriously?"

"I will convince you to like something peach. Don't make me get the Crush soda!" He pointed at you, finger close but not touching your forehead. Sighing you dropped the issue, finishing shopping then going back home. You sat at the counter eating some chips as he put the rest of the groceries away, he wouldn't let you help. He said it was because you were too short to reach everything, but he really just liked spoiling you. When he was done, he brought over the bag of peaches, setting each one on the counter in a row, smallest to largest.

"What the hell are you doing?" You asked, not sure you wanted to know the answer. He didn't answer, taking the can of peaches, opening it, and placing seven of the slices on a paper plate. In front of each peach, he put one of the candies.

"What. Are. You. Doing?" You reiterated and he held up his hand, telling you to wait.

"If you eat a certain number of each one, I will do different things for you."

"Like what?"

"What do you think, baby girl?" He leaned on the counter, smirking and you shuffled in your seat under his intense gaze. Clearing your throat, you closed the chip bag and shoved them to the side.

"Alright. What are they?"

"One candy equals one minute of making out." He pointed at each one. Jaemin moved to the slices on the plate.

"One is I'll let you ride my thigh." You nodded for him to continue.

"Two, I'll get you off with my fingers. Three, your vibrator. Four I'll let you suck me off at the same time. Six, I'll cum in your mouth, and all seven I'll fuck your face." He listed off, recognizing the look on your face with each level. He knew you too well. You swallowed hard and he flashed a devilish grin.

"Okay, what about those." You nodded toward the full fruits. He held one up.

"If you only eat one of these, I'll have you sit on my face. If you do all the other ones, plus one of these…" He drifted off, trying to keep his face flat, but he was still smirking. Your eyes followed his hand as he put the fruit down and pulled a bottle out of his pocket you had no idea was there. He set it down, the fluid inside was a peachy color…

"I'll use this." Jaemin leaned back against the counter opposite the island as you looked at the bottle.

"Real original. Peach flavored butt lube…" You sighed, but your cunt clenched at the thought. You had been talking about experimenting…

"Okay, deal." You agreed, holding your hand out to shake and he grinned.

"You sure, baby?"

"We'll see." You shrugged, trying to stay nonchalant. You were a little nervous, the last time you had canned peaches, you gagged at the slimy texture. The candies weren't too worrying, the artificial flavor was probably quite different from real peaches. He took you hand and shook it, leaning back again, nodding for you to start. Unwrapping the first gummy, you slid it into your mouth, the sugar decorating the outside rough on your tongue as your teeth sank in. It really wasn't too bad, though you wouldn't go out of your way to buy any.

"One minute." You started, unwrapping the next gummy. After you had chewed and eaten all seven, Jaemin smirked, coming around the island, and pulling off the stool to him. As he brought you to and settled on the couch, he set a timer for seven minutes, cracking some joke about seven minutes in heaven, then hauled you down onto his lap. He groaned exaggeratedly as he pulled you down to seal your lips with his, tongue already snaking its way into your mouth. Your head swam as Jaemin kissed you, he really was too good at it. You felt a bit of saliva drip down your chin, he was rough and noisy. You both were sucking air in harshly through your noses since you couldn't use you mouths, but not wanting to cut short the seven minutes in any way. When his phone alarm went off, his hand buried in your air and forced you to pull back from the kiss. You were both panting, but you were way more than him, with that stupid cocky grin on his ridiculously attractive face. With ease, he stood, you still on his lap. This forced you to wrap your legs and arms around him with a yipe and he went back to the kitchen, setting you on the island counter. He slid the plate over to you, grabbing a spare plastic fork and handing it over. This was more nerve wracking for you. You pondered if literally swallowing the slices whole would be less skeevy than chewing them since they got kind of rubbery in the can. Taking the first piece, you brought it to you lips, cringing at the taste of the syrup they put in the can to keep them the right texture. Sliding it in, the slippery texture made you gag slightly, so you just bit it in half, then swallowed both pieces. Thinking of it like a medication pill made it go down easier, since those weren't supposed to be appetizing.

"Thigh." He recited, stepping forward even further, standing between your legs where you sat on the counter. You swallowed again, making sure the pieces were done and then proceeded to do it again. The flavor wasn't too bad, but the texture was still unpleasant.

"Fingers." Another, swallowing both halves.

"Vibe."

"My cock." He placed his thumb over your lip, swiping a bit of the syrup away.

"My cum." You licked you lips that time, swallowing hard to get the rest of the sixth piece down. When you finally ate the last slice, he smiled deviously, running his index finger down your throat, as if following the fruit as you swallowed it. Before you could do anything yourself, he pulled away, dashing to the bedroom, coming back out with your butterfly vibrator. He came back over, pulling your butt to the edge, running his hand up your thigh and under your skirt. You shifted so he could flip it up, smiling at your pink panties. He pulled them to the side, your slick letting the silicone head of the small vibrator slide in easily. You shivered a bit as he got it all in and let your underwear settle back in place, the wings of the bottom of the toy cupping your whole cunt. He helped you off the counter, and you got on your knees in front of him. As you pulled his hard cock out of his sweat pants, you whined, lapping up the drop of precum beaded at his head. Jaemin smirked, holding the remote for you to see, then turning it on. Your breath hitched as he increased the intensity, you squatted further so the base of the toy hit the floor, allowing you to press it into your more. Opening your mouth wide, you sat like a good girl as he took his cock in his hand, leading it in. Listening to you breathe roughly through your nose, he kept going, filling your throat with his cock. Your eyes rolled back at the sensation, loving the feeling of your throat trying to accommodate but not gag. Jaemin just held his cock there, your nose pressed to his groin, your hips rutting against your toy. When he could tell you needed to breathe, he pulled his hips back enough to allow you respite, then started to thrust his hips. Every fifth thrust, he shoved his cock as deep as he could, his palm laying over your throat feeling it stretch with his girth. He groaned loudly, he always did.

"Fuck, baby girl~" Your eyes were watering, tears flowing over your cheeks, breaths harsh through your nose and he knew you were close like him. His thumb hit the button the remote again and at the new intensity, you hit your climax, your moan around his cock helping him finish as well. You nearly sobbed as hot, thick spurts of his cum went straight down your throat. It seemed to never end, and your vision blurred from lack of air. Jaemin noticed and pulled halfway out, a few small spurts of cum still leaving his cock, then pulled out completely so you could suck in oxygen. His cock was a mess of saliva and release. Panting from where you squatted on the floor, you watched him shut the toy off, sighing in relief, and he picked up the full peach that time.

"Undress and get on the bed." He ordered and you scrambled to do so, sliding the toy out and throwing it in the bathroom sink. You slid your clothes off and sat at the end of the bed like a good girl, he came in not even a minute later, only in his pants and holding the peeled and cut fruit on a plate in his hand. Setting it down next to you, he went to the nightstand and got the plug you had bought last week.

"Start." You hadn’t made good on the deal yet, but he knew you would. When you picked up the first piece, you were relieved it wasn't nearly as slimy or sticky as the canned stuff, but you were kind of full from the previous parts, as well as what you swallowed of Jaemin's release. You were feeling impatient, so you scarfed it down, shocking him a bit, but you were licking the last of the juice off your fingers when he came to stand in front of you. He had given you the smaller one luckily, so you didn't have much to eat.

"Roll over, get on your knees." He smacked your ass lightly and you crawled up the bed, doing so, face on the sheets, butt in the air. He grinned, your slick folds had dripped down over your pucker. He opened the cap of the bottle, you shivered when the slightly cold fluid hit your rim. You had expected the tip of his finger, or even the end of the plug, but you gasped when instead, his tongue ran around your back entrance. It was peach flavored not just scented.

"Fuck, 'Min." It was an odd sensation, but not totally unwelcome. He noted that the lube had a very artificial taste, he much preferred the real thing, but if it was you he eating instead, that was fine. After a few minutes, he pulled his face away, licking his lips, then picked up the plug.

The toy was pretty small, but he still slathered it in lube, as well as your rim. He watched the muscle flutter around the silicone, and you whined a bit.

"Breathe." He coached and slid the plug into your ass. Your breath hitched, then you sighed and relaxed once it was in.

"How's that, baby girl?" Jaemin stroked the skin of your ass cheek with his thumb, your cunt visibly fluttering.

"W-weird." You admitted, and he hummed.

"Jaemin~" You practically squealed when the head of his dick ran through your slick folds, but he was taking his take actually starting to press in.

"Please!" You wanted to cry, needing him and so he relented, sliding home. You let out a slight choking noise, the burn of his cock stretching you so fast and hard, along with the plug in your ass, was overwhelming. He was nice enough to let you adjust to the new sensation of having something in both wholes, but it always took a while for you to get used to his cock. From behind he reached the deepest part of your cunt, and your tight gummy walls gripped to every ridge and vein of him. There was no verbal warning for him starting, but you saw his hands rest on and grip the head board, prompting you to do the same with the sheets.

"Fuck, princess!" He laughed in glee, not trying to be gentle in any sense, bullying his cock into your pussy as hard as he could, like he was rearranging your insides. Each thrust took your breath away, making you nearly hyperventilate. He was spewing the sweetest filth, praising you and your cute little cunt. How well you took his fat cock, and how much he loved fucking you stupid. You could barely babble in reply, tiny orgasms washing over you over and over.

"J-J-Jaemin-!" You dug your teeth into the pillow, the next wave coming was much stronger.

"Okay, baby girl, cum for daddy~" He chuckled as you whimpered, another hand thrust, and he was even taken away by your orgasm. Your cunt clenched even tighter around his cock than he thought possibly, spurts of slick spilling from your cunt, dripping and puddling onto the sheets. It was too much, too hot, that he made a few more shallow thrusts, then spilled inside you. You milked him dry, it felt like, and it made an even bigger mess. He sat inside you till he had nearly softened all the way, letting you calm down some and slowly pulling out. His finger circled the base of the plug, the end of it had a little emoji peach on it.

"You like peaches now, princess?”

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bambisnc · 7 months

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pairing : yunjin x reader, karina x reader (comparatively less) genre : oooh. yeah. idrk. crack ish but also angst? cw/tw : classmate!rina and transfer student!yunjin karina doesnt really treat reader well + yunjin is manipulative + food mention + swearing + karina calls yunjin a rather unflattering word + suggestive -> kissing occurs + uneditted its 2.17 am n my eyes hurt.. :( wc : 1.5k this was supposed to be a fluffy rina 200 ish word hc wtfwtf notes : wtf have i written fr / wrote this while listening to farewell, neverland and stupid in love alternately

classmate!karina who you've known ever since you gained enough coherent knowledge to retain information because, hey, it's a small town and she's a girl who everyone knows will achieve big things

classmate!karina who can literally do it all. she's the human incarnate of the song little miss perfect : straight hair, straight a's, straight forward,.. teachers more often than not swoon in her presence, she's voted class president on the first day and underclassmen and seniors are equally in awe of the enigma that she is; elusive but alluring.

it's only natural that you would fall for her; how could you not? with the way she slips her arm into yours everywhere you go and how she always makes it a point to greet you by being physically affectionate : hugs from the back, forehead kisses, head pats, nose boops and whatnot,. there's also those kisses which she places right at the corner of your mouth; her own so close to yours that if you were to move even the slightest you'd end up brushing against hers,,

but whenever you try to ask her about your relation, your sad little question of "what are we rina.." goes completely unheard.. :(

but then !!! comes along transfer student!yunjin :) this'll be fun :)

when the teacher approaches karina with the matter of showing the new girl around, helping her catch up to the syllabus, etc; you were with her and quite clearly able to feel the hesitation radiating off of her figure. so you, being the kind-hearted soul you are volunteer your own help !! the teacher doesn't really gaf,, as long as she knows you won't shower the new girl with worms or something she's chill w that :p

however, karina is still apprehensive because she's apparently heard rumours that yunjin was,.. notoriously known as somewhat of a delinquent. she doesn't really want someone so cute, so trusting like you around her..

but when the vivacious redhead greets you with a charming grin, your defenses immediately lower.. yunjin was so sweet! how could someone like her ever even be assosciated with those rumours?

you soon find yourself spending a lot of time with her,, karina always seems so busy nowadays.. you know how tough class president duties can be plus she's always working on a million other things as well, and you get it, of course. you support her fully!! it's just,.. sometimes you can't help but feel sad... it feels like she's avoiding you on purpose :(

like when you were having lunch with yunjin one day and karina walked into the cafeteria. you waved her over but her nose wrinkled as if she'd smelt something sour and with a brief smile (which was SO obviously fake) she left..

..??????? you need to put in all your strength to not breakdown in tears right there. but yunjin is there to comfort you~ she always is <3 she wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to offer comfort. her hoodie that you'd been wearing (it was coldd and you being in a hurry that day had worn only a t-shirt - she couldn't bear to watch her new friend freezing now could she :( so she ever so chivalrously gave it to youu <3) along with her warm embrace made you feel very comforted~

but your feelings for karina still reign strong. so you decide if she won't tell you what you did to upset her, you'll confront her yourself

except.. yunjin ends up talking to you out of it... her argument makes complete sense : karina probably just wanted some space from you. if you approached her right now, she'd only retreat farther away, and you did not want that

so whenever you're feeling particularly vulnerable, in a 'fuck it we ball' kinda mood she's always there to prevent you from making a mistake!! she's so thoughtful <3 she's over at your place pretty often + sleepovers have become a new norm for you two because hey who knows when you'll need a comforting hug from your friend right? :)

but then, against your better judgement - yunjin would be so sad for you if she found out.. :(( - you finally give in to your urges. you decide to properly confess your feeling to karina on the 14th of feb. you really miss what you had with her, you miss being her friend.. and even if she hates you now you'd rather at least get closure than be ghosted irl 😔

so you go all out! go big or go home by enhypen plays in the bg you make her favorite chocolates, write a letter explaining how you feel, decorating a cute red heart shaped box and wrapping it all up w a cute ribbon <3

there is now the dilemma of how to give it to her.. hmm you do know she has patrols in and around the sports ground after lunch every alternate day.. and by your luck 14th is one of those days!

you ditch yunjin with a couple of fake excuses, desperately dodging her offers to come with you when finally, looking extremely dejected she leaves

sighing with relief you make your way to the first floor into a classroom from where you can easily see the entire grounds. and oh! you see those familiar long locks of black!! rather ungracefully, you decide to just throw your box out hoping she'll see that your name is written on it and not immediately throw it away

as soon as you're ready to chuck it down : you hear a familiar voice, "yn? what are you doing here??" it's karina?! how is she here?? but in your shock you accidentally let go of the box; only managing to keep holding on to the letter

shock and dread fills you at the thought of someone else taking the box and thinking you were confessing to them you dont even bother to look at karina even though it's been ages she's initiated a conversation with you.. as you leave, in your frustration you ball up the letter and throw it in the trash, completely forgetting that the person it was for was right there??

you race downstairs but end up bumping into a whirlwind of red. it's yunjin. the sheer happiness on her face somehow settles into you and you can't help but ask her whatever happened to make her look so delighted

she immediately pulls you into a tight embrace, "oh yn i like you too!! i thought you were still hung up over karina and i was so worried that she'd steal you away from me but if you have feelings for me that totally changes things!! i was ready to completely isolate you so you would only have me to depend on but fuck- you're so cute confessing outright out of nowhere!! even kazuha said she could've never seen it coming - you always seemed so heart-struck around her after all"

this shouldve been a red flag but the dazed state you'd been thrust into made all her words pass right over your head. you can only reply with a weak "kazuha..?who- what do you mean.."

"oh are u jealous?? that's so cutee ynniee and i mean exactly what i said pretty!! shit does this mean we're dating now? i've been waiting since forever to be able to call you mine.. oh my god i could kiss you right now.." yunjin's overenthusiasm leaves you very flustered and honestly? a little weak in the knees?

"so can i then??" yunjin's still talking "can you-?" "can i kiss you yn please we're dating now right?" "we are..? of course then.." and she wastes absolutely zero time in immediately diving towards you, tilting your neck to devour your lips with her own, her other hand sneaking its way to your waist, pulling you closer, closer.. yes you're still in the middle of the hallway but yunjin would be damned if she gave a single fuck, not when she has you like this and you.. you're still lost in some kind of a daze that only becomes heavier as your gf's (?) lips work against yours, till her hands holding you are the only reason you're still able to stand

you gain some sort of consciousness, when you're completely out of breath (ironically-) and push yourself away from her gently

yunjin immediately moves as if to chase after your lips but then seems to notice something behind you which makes her smirk.. huh.. she's really pretty; are you just noticing this now?

she pulls you into her chest then, like she's down millions of time and you carefully place your arms around her shoulders as she pats your head, whispering something soft in your ears - which you sadly can't hear due to the slight sound of blood pounding in your ears.. but in the comfort of her arms you really can't seem to bring yourself to care, simply enjoying the comfort she provides you with.

unbeknownst to you, as you and yunjin were in the middle of that passionate exchange, karina had managed to track you down and witnessed in horror the painful sight of you with her. god she'd ruined everything, that fucking bitch. how dare she even touch you with such bad intentions? granted karina's thoughts about you weren't 100% platonic either but you were hers. and she intended to do whatever she could to make that happen..

379 notes · View notes

roxygen22 · 7 months

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A sickly Wonka and Female reader taking care of him (after the events of the movie.)

Summary: Stand-alone prequel to MLCB series combined with an ask for a sick fic. How the reader met and fell in love with Willy. Instant chemistry! (Longer than intended, but I just couldn't stop)

C/W: Illness, though not graphic

<><><>

BOXES

"ACHOO!" You heard a loud sneeze in the alley followed by a crashing sound on your walk home from work. You peered around the corner of the building and spotted a lanky man with a fuschia coat and dark hair curling around the brim of his brown top hat looking down at the mess of boxes surrounding him on the ground.

"Are you alright, sir?" you asked.

He swirled around to look at you with a light pink blush spreading across his cheeks. "Oh, uh, yes. Thank you, Miss...?"

"[Y/N]."

"[Y/N]. What a lovely name. I'm [achoo!] Willy."

"I know who you are, Mr. Wonka," you said with a smile.

"Really?" he said in a surprised and equally nasal tone before sneezing again.

"You *are* quite the celebrity around here, sir. Do you need some help?" you asked, pointing to the boxes.

Willy looked around and sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. Noticing that he didn't seem to be the type to easily ask for or accept help, you pried further. "Where are you trying to take them? I work at a shop nearby. We could borrow the cart."

"Really?"

"You say that a lot, don't you, Mr. Wonka." You giggled.

"Just Willy, please," he said softly. "I just need to get these boxes to my shop at the Galeries Gourmet. I thought I could get them all in one go, but well..." he trailed off as he gestured with his hands to the boxes on the ground.

"Well, Mr. Wonk...Willy. You stay here and gather your boxes, and I'll go grab the cart."

He flashed a big smile your way. "Thank you, miss."

"Just [Y/N], please," you parroted back with a slight blush. "I'll be right back." As you walked away, you heard him sneeze a couple more times before you were out of earshot. Poor thing sounds like he is coming down with a cold.

<><><>

By the time you returned, Willy had restacked the boxes so they were no longer blocking the alley. You both loaded the cart, but he took over pushing it toward his shop. "So why are you helping out a complete stranger, [y/n]? I do hope you aren't missing out on any big plans on my account."

"You aren't exactly a stranger, Willy. Everyone knows the famous magical chocolatier. But in that moment after you dropped your boxes, you looked just as human as the rest of us. I couldn't very well just pass you by and ignore you. Besides, this is far more exciting than anything I had planned this evening."

"Really?" [achoo]

"There you go again," you grinned. "Yes, really. The only plans I had were dinner and a book."

"Oh, you like to read? I like to read, too," Willy announced proudly. "I just meant...well, a pretty girl...lady...person like you...I mean, no, uh... there's nobody waiting for you at home?" he stammered.

"Are you asking if I am spoken for, Mr. Wonka?" you teased and unintentionally sent him into a coughing fit. "Oh dear, I'm so sorry. I was just joking. Are you okay?" You grabbed his arm in an attempt to stabilize him as he doubled over.

"I'm fine," Willy croaked as he stood back up. He looked down at your hand on his arm and smiled. Feeling suddenly bashful, you let go and clasped your hands behind your back.

"We should keep going, Willy. You need to get out of this cold air."

"Right you are, [y/n]. Your nose is turning the same shade as my coat!" he said with a grin as he booped your nose with his index finger. Warmth spread all over your body like electricity at his touch.

Recognizing that his actions may have been a touch too forward for a girl he just met (who never confirmed her availability), Willy cleared his throat in embarrassment and started to push the cart once more. You walked alongside, still dumbstruck by the effect of his touch.

"You didn't answer my question," he quipped after a few steps, breaking you out of your reverie.

"And what was that?" You knew what he was referring to but wanted to hear him say it again.

"Are you...[clears throat] is there anyone waiting for you at home?"

"Just my parents." If anyone else had asked you that, it may have been creepy. But you could sense his sincerity.

"Oh," he said with relief, though you could swear you saw a brief glint of...sadness? "Great, well I will have your cart freed up quickly so you can get home and not worry them."

"What about you?"

"Me?"

"Yes, is there anyone at home waiting on you? Perhaps a special someone?" You looked up into his eyes, unabashedly flirting. You noticed that underneath those lush dark lashes, his eyes were actually blue with a hint of green around the pupil. Huh. He's even more beautiful up close, you thought.

"No. It's just me and my shop."

"Oh," you mimicked his earlier response, trying to disguise your excitment that the magician/chocolatier was single. The two of you kept walking in companionable silence until you reached his shop.

<><><>

After unloading the cart, Willy swept the hat off his head and half-bowed to you. "Thank you again, [y/n]."

You giggled at the gesture. Not ready to call it a night just yet, you offered, "I could help you unpack those boxes, if you'd like. I know you aren't feeling 100% and really, I have nothing better to do." Besides thinking about him all evening, you said silently in your head.

Willy tried to stifle another cough. "Alright, sure. More hands makes lighter work."

You grabbed a box, sat in the floor, and started shuffling through its contents. You had no clue where anything went, so you started sorting like things together for Willy to put away. At one point your hand grazed his as you reached for the same item. You both blushed.

Clearing his throat - you were unsure whether this time was due to awkwardness or illness - he sat down on the other side of the box from you. He said, "So tell me about this book you are reading." It didn't take much prompting for you to excitedly recount what you had read so far of Treasure Island and your other favorite adventure books. In turn, he regaled you with tales from his time as a sailor.

Time passed very quickly as you swapped stories. Next thing you knew, it was dark out, and the two of you hadn't even fully unpacked the first box.

"Oh dear," you groused and stood up. "I should get going, Willy. My mother is probably pacing the floors."

"Since you stayed out late on my behalf, it's the least I could do to walk you home. If you'd allow me the pleasure." You noticed that all of the talking had made his voice sound hoarse and gravelly.

"You really ought to stay inside where it's warm. The cold will aggravate your cough."

"I wouldn't be able to rest wondering if you made it home safely in the dark," he said softly as he stood and brushed the dust off his pants.

You felt the heat flash across your cheeks as you blushed at his admission that he would be thinking of you after you leave. "Oh, well in THAT case, I would be honored to have you accompany me."

You both bundled back up into your respective coats and hats. As you suspected, Willy's cough worsened with the cold. As much as you would love to draw out this encounter, you don't want him in the cold air longer than he had to be. You quickly led him to your shop to return the cart before heading home.

Once you arrived, you both lingered at the front door. You stopped breathing as he took your hand and kissed it. "I'm glad I dropped those boxes, [y/n]," he said softly as he looked into your eyes.

It was your turn to stammer. "Me, too. I mean...I'm glad...I'm glad our paths crossed."

"Perhaps they can cross again soon?"

"I'd love that. I..." you were interrupted by Willy's sneeze. You couldn't help but laugh at his timing. "You, sir, need to go home, get warm, and take care of that cold." You smiled up at him.

"Yes, ma'am." He grinned.

You unlocked the front door and slipped inside. You leaned against the door and slowly released the breath you didn't realize you had been holding. You stared at the hand that he kissed, biting your lip to contain a squeal of excitement.

"Mom," you called out. "I'm home, and you're never going to believe the evening I've had!"

<><><>

You were off work the next day, so you decided to swing by Willy's shop in the morning to see how he was doing. You walked in and browsed the store, but he was nowhere to be seen. You started second guessing yourself, wondering if you were being too forward by dropping in the very next day, when you heard, "[y/n]?"

You spun around with excitement, but your face fell when you took in his unnatural pallor. "Oh Willy, you poor dear."

He started to speak, but was overcome by a hacking cough that sounded far worse than the night before.

"You should be at home resting."

"I can't. My store..."

"....seems to be running just fine at the moment. Besides, your customers may be wary of you coughing all over the chocolate." You crossed your arms and raised your eyebrow.

He smirked. "Touché." His voice was still raspy from the night before.

"Let me walk you home this time."

"I am quite capable..." [achoo]

"Oh, I know you're capable of getting there. I'm not convinced you're capable of leaving the shop without being dragged out."

"You know me so well in less than 24 hours," he said with a smile that reached his glassy eyes. "I suppose you are right [sniffle]. You have a knack for appearing at a time of need. One can't pour from an empty cup, I suppose. Let me get my things."

You waited out front has he gave instructions to the cashier and stocker. Once he joined you, he offered you his arm and you began walking toward his place. The trek was interrupted by multiple coughing fits, one of which left him breathless and needing a break on a bench.

"Is it okay if I feel your forehead?" you asked. Once he nodded, you gingerly rested your fingers against his head. "You are burning up, Willy. Let me know when you feel like you can stand again so we can get you home."

After a few moments, Willy rose from the bench. He offered you his arm again, but you suspected this time it was to balance himself more than a gentlemanly gesture.

Willy looked even more pale and clammy by the time you arrived at his home. He handed you his keys to unlock the door as he leaned against the frame for support. You opened the door and gently led him inside. You wouldn't normally enter the abode of a relative stranger, but he was all alone and you felt oddly safe with him.

He collapsed on his sofa as you set to work to make him comfortable. You dampened a cloth to set on his forehead, removed his boots, and covered him with a blanket. "Would you like me to make you some tea for your throat?" He nodded and pointed to the cabinet where he kept the tea leaves.

You got the kettle going and looked back to observe the man. Was he asleep already? You tiptoed over to check. Sure enough, he had dozed off. Feeling that sleep was probably more necessary than tea, you turned off the stove.

Unsure of what to do, but having no desire to leave him in this state, you sat in the armchair next to Willy and passed the time by reading a book from his small collection. After about two hours, he started to stir. He looked around confused before he saw you and smiled.

"[Y/N], you stayed."

"Of course. Could you imagine the uproar if I let something happen to our town's infamous chocolatier? I would be cast out." You grinned. "How are you feeling?"

"A little better." His voice sounded a little less strained than earlier. That was a good sign.

"Good. I'll make you that tea now." But before you could make your way to the kitchen, Willy grabbed your hand.

"Thank you for staying and taking care of me, both yesterday and today. You hardly even know me."

"We can fix that."

"Really?"

You smiled, rolled your eyes, and went back to making tea.

<><><>

Masterlist

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bokutosmochi · 2 years

Text

SHAME! SHAME! SHAME! or embarrassing moments with jjk men

what's it? crack with a sprinkle of fluff

allergen warning/s? gn!reader, kind of spoilers for gojo's past arc in nanami's (not exactly canon, but you'll see teehee), smoke alarms (no actual fire though)

sugar level? 1.1k

names for the order? gojo satoru, geto suguru, fushiguro toji, nanami kento, sukuna ryomen

regulars? @tahonet, @tokyometronetwork

bon appetit!

GOJO SATORU:

"are you a piece of candy? cause you're a tootsie, and you're on a roll." you couldn't help the way your eyebrows quirked at gojo's statement and failed pick up line. "what does you're a tootsie even mean?" and to that, he simply shrugged. "dunno, but it's a cute nickname and it always works on cute little buttercups just like you." he leaned down to boop your nose that is now scrunched up as a result. "satoru," you sighed. "you know i love you dearly, but i doubt that has ever worked on anyone. you need better pick up lines." at your brutally honest words, gojo stomps his foot, reminiscent of a child and pouts. his arms are crossed across his chest and he looks like a perfect blend of intimidating and non-intimidating. he turns his head to the side and sticks up his nose. "my methods of flirting have worked with plenty of people. maybe you're just different and quirky." you spat out your drink "that's how you flirt?" because you know just how many people threw themselves at the feet of your boyfriend before you got together and this is how he got laid? you pinched the bridge of your nose and sighed for the nth time. "pretty privilege does crazy things. baby, you cannot flirt."

GETO SUGURU

"geto suguru, oh. my. god" the words that came from you were almost squealed. it was nearing midnight and geto has had a very long day; meeting with his fellow curse users who share his vision, tending to the pathetic, helpless monkeys who called for his aid in getting rid of equally weak curses, and of course, walking around kyoto, tending to mimiko and nanako's every need and want. in fact, he was so busy he didn't even hear neither the front door or bedroom door open and close. "sugu baby, you look so cute!" now that was most definitely a squeal. the man in question had a toothbrush in his foamy mouth, and his hair was held back by a soft brown headband with bear ears and various glittery butterfly hairclips. he went back to the bathroom to spit the toothpaste out and gargle before greeting you properly with a hug and a minty fresh kiss on the lips. "the girls got a hold of me." he chuckled lightly, pulling the cutesy headband away. "if you arrived any earlier, you would've seen me with makeup on." you shook his head at him, the worst curse user. "you would do anything for those girls, wouldn't you?"

NANAMI KENTO:

"kento, you never told me you had piercings." you murmured softly, running your thumb over the space below his bottom lip where there were two tiny holes on either side, assumingly from piercings. he caught your hand and kissed your warm palm, eyes closed. "did gojo tell you about those, angel?" at the mention of his troublesome former upperclassman's name, his nose scrunched up - after all, it seemed like ever since learning about your relationship, the snow haired sorcerer would not stop telling you stories from when they were students. nanami knew that gojo picking the embarrassing ones were not some sort of a coincidence either - making you laugh as you shook your head. "no, i just noticed the piercing holes on your lip. are there more?" you did not wait for his answer though. instead, your eyes were already looking all over his face. you spotted more on his nose and several ones on his ears. "you never told me you had a punk rock phase, kento." you told him, poking his cheek with a giggle making him grumble out something you could not decipher as his face heated up with something akin to embarrassment. "the opportunity never came up."

FUSHIGURO TOJI:

"heya baby boy!" you greeted toji with a quick kiss on the scar on the side of his lip before plopping down on the opposite side of the loveseat. you were certain there was nothing out of the ordinary, but your boyfriend's head immediately snapped towards your figure for a reason you did not know. "you okay, big guy?" you chuckled nervously, scratching the back of your head. his mouth was slightly agape and his face was flushed red. he swallowed thickly, adam's apple bobbing and cleared his throat, "what'd ya call me?" you blinked at his words, the gears in your head turning. "baby boy?" his cheeks got a shade of red darker. but this time, the nickname he was not used to no longer flustered him. "do i look like baby boy?" he snickered at you. "'n if i remember correctly, last night, 'y were callin' me a much different name." he trailed off, a smirk gracing his lips. you shook your head at him, crawling towards him on your hands and knees and cupping the side of his cheek, gazing into his eyes tenderly, hoping to caress any sort of weakness from him, break down his cockiness from last night's activities. "oh toji," stroking the skin of his cheek with your thumb, your lips were pouted and head tilted. "you're always gonna be my baby boy."

SUKUNA RYOMEN:

"ring! ring! ring! ring!" that was the sound that woke you up on your birthday. not your alarm clock, not the familiar weight of sukuna's arms on you, or his rough voice commanding you to get up and not sleep in. no, this one is unfamiliar, because it's the smoke alarm. you quickly pushed the duvet off of you, taking a mental note of the curse's absence from beside you, and rose up, running to the kitchen to see what has transpired within its four walls. there sukuna was, standing on his tippy toes to reach the fire alarm. he sighed in relief when he finally turned it off, but he still rolled his eyes. "stupid twenty first century gadgets.". he was sure he'd never get used to them. it was only when he turned around did he see you. his eyes were narrowed into slits before looking back up. "the unnecessary thing woke you up, didn't it?" he nearly growled out. you just hummed out a response. "it's not unnecessary, 'kuna. house fires from not paying attention to what you're cooking is a real danger." you murmured, walking to where he is by the stove and wrapping your arms around his waist. "for example, burnt," whatever this was on the pan. "pancakes." he mumbled out, answering your unasked question. "was supposed to surprise you for your birthday."

i get: reblog

you get: a jjk boy of your choice

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bleucaesura · 6 months

Text

STOLITZØ - SIXTEEN

“Let me get this straight,” Fizzarolli sat down next to Blitzø. “You just LEFT? Without saying anything?”

The two were sitting on a chez lounge in Fizzarolli and Asmodeus’s bedroom. Fizzarolli had scrounged up some First Aid supplies and was fixing the mess the rain and street sludge had done to Blitzø’s wounds and bandages.

“Well…” Blitzø cringed at Fizzarolli’s prodding. Everything was really hurting again. “I mean… Yeah…?”

“And at no point since then, have you even considered TALKING to him?

“Why would I?” Blitzø turned his face away. “It’s clear he wants nothing to do with me anymore.”

“IS it clear?” Fizzarolli yanked a bandage tight and slapped some tape on it.

Blitzø yelped in pain and glared at him.

“Is that REALLY what you take away from this?” Fizzarolli crossed his arms and glared back.

Blitzø faltered.

“What…” Blitzø shrank into himself. “What do you mean?”

“Blitzø. Play close attention.” Fizzarolli stood and turned to look out the window into the rain. “The day I was kidnapped, Stolas had an appointment to see Ozzie.”

“He did?”

“Yes.”

“Why?” Blitzø was trying to sound uninterested. But mostly he was trying to stay focused. He was in a lot of pain.

“Well if you shut it,” Fizzarolli looked over his shoulder. “I’ll tell you.”

Blitzø stared blankly back at Fizz with his mouth clamped shut. Fizzarolli nodded.

“Turns out Stolas came to Ozzie looking for his help. Stolas wanted help for you with your business”.

“What do…”

“Seriously!” Fizzarolli stretched and coiled around until he was face-to-face with Blitzø. “Shut it! And let me finish!”

“Cheese and hot sauce, Fizz… Alright!” Blitzø went cross-eyed trying to look at Fizz so close up. Thankfully he uncoiled and retracted back to looking out the window.

Blitzø felt dizzy and nauseous.

“Ozzie turned Stolas down when he asked for one of Ozzie’s crystals because of how I felt about you…” Fizzarolli crossed his arms, and looked down at the street, feeling awful. “I hated you. Because of how things were between us at the time.”

Blitzø looked away, ashamed.

“After you got me home safe, Ozzie fixed me up. Then he and I talked. About everything.” Fizzarolli looked over his shoulder at Blitzø, “And I told him to give Stolas the crystal, because I said you’d earned it.”

Blitzø peeked at Fizzarolli and smiled shyly.

“Sooooo…” Fizzarolli coiled his body up like a tall, stretched spring, bent back to look at Blitzø. “When Ozzie let Stolas know he could have the crystal, they talked a bit more about why you’d need the crystal.”

Fizzarolli uncoiled, turned to face Blitzø and stretched over from the window so he could slide onto the chéz lounge on his tummy. He lay there like a schoolgirl looking up at Blitzø with his head in his hands, and his feet kicking playfully in the air behind him.

“You know. Like, for instance, the question of how you were getting to the human realm right now, so on and so forth.” Fizzarolli looked at Blitzø and waggled his eyebrows.

Blitzø blushed. Fizzarolli grinned.

“Don’t worry. That bit of law breaking won’t leave our lips.” Fizzarolli reached over and booped Blitzø playfully on the nose. Blitzø batted at Fizz’s hand with his free hand and looked away.

Fizzarolli sat up. “Point is. Stolas got the crystal for you because he doesn’t want you to be obligated to be with him - in any way.”

“Wait, WHAT?” Blitzø whipped his head around to face Fizzarolli.

“Satan’s taint, my head hurts” he muttered.

Fizzarolli looked at him with concern, but Blitzø just waved him on.

“Stolas loves you, Blitzø. And he wants to end whatever arrangement you two have so that it’s not an obligation for you to be with him anymore.”

“I… It wasn’t… I didn’t…”

“Stolas wants you to be able to do your job. With or without him. But he desperately wants you to love him and to WANT to be with him, no strings attached. He told Ozzie that he’s never thought of you as a contract. You’ve always been his equal, his best and only friend and his lover. He doesn’t care about titles. He wants to be your family.”

“That bastard”

“Excuse me?” Fizzarolli was shocked.

“Who says I don’t?… That I didn’t?… Why didn’t he just f*cking… Oh Satan f*cking damn it!… My head can’t take this sh*t”

“You’re not an easy person to have an honest heart-to-heart conversation with, Blitzø.”

“Well, I never!” Blitzø gasped dramatically and feigned a southern belle swoon into Fizzarolli’s arms.

Fizzarolli rolled his eyes and dropped Blitzø on the floor.

Blitzø lay there and looked up at the ceiling.

“You’re right, Fizz.” Blitzø sighed. “I spit bullsh*t and keep my feelings inside because I’m afraid that if I let them out… I’ll just massively f*ck s*it up again and hurt the ones I love the most.”

“What exactly do you mean by that?”

“The last time… ah f*ck me…” Blitzø sat up and rubbed his closed eyes between his finger and thumb. His head was throbbing. He was seeing stars.

“Fizz… There’s something I’ve got to tell you.”

*****

#helluva boss #blitzø #stolas #stolitz #fanfic #vivziepop #vivzieverse #vivienne medrano #brandon rogers

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girlboypersonthingy · 1 year

Note

Hello!!!!!!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Can i request Vi and Jinx x affectionate! clingy! Reader?

Reader absolutely loves to: hug, kiss cheeks, compliment others, cuddling (under blankets for extra warmth 😃) andddd nose boops

Am i annoying? 😃❤️❤️

OMFG CHILL THIS IS TOO CUTE 🤭 Not annoying at all, anon. Nose boops are the cutest! As always, I greatly appreciate the request. ENJOY~

VI 💘

When you’re in front of anyone, she’s like “ugh, (Y/N), please. I’m busy.” But when you’re alone together she’s like “YES GIVE ME MORE!” She loves the excess of attention and affection you give her after a long, stressful day. It calms her down so much.

She’s honestly so in love with you. If anyone else were to swoon over her and touch on her the way you do, she’d probably fly off the handle and cuss them out. You are the only exception. You get full VIP access to her.

Hugs: she cherishes your hugs so much. It’s never just a normal hug with you. You always wrap your arms fully around her torso and squeeze her as tight as you can and you don’t let go for a while. She’d stay like this in your arms forever if she could. When she’s upset or really angry, all you have to do is hug her and she’s instantly relaxing into your embrace. You’ve made her so soft, omfg

Cheek kissing: she can’t handle your cuteness. Anytime you press a gentle kiss to her cheek, she totally blanks on what she was just about to say or do. She turns her attention to you and just smiles like a lovesick dope. As she gets more used to you kissing her cheek, she starts to expect it and now every time you lean in to her, she whips her head towards you and catches your lips with her own. She just can’t get over the adorable and blushy face you make when her lips meet yours ever so softly.

Compliments: she’s terrible with accepting compliments from you. You say something like “you’re so beautiful.” “Wow, you’re so strong.” And she malfunctions. She just gets really quiet and can’t bring herself to look at you. I think she’s equally flustered and feeling guilty. She likes the compliments but she just doesn’t agree with you. She can’t understand how you can adore her so much. It’s like being touch starved but with words of affirmation. She just doesn’t know what to say or think when you say something sweet to her. I think she also feels guilty for never complimenting you back. She’s good with her fists, not with her words so she never really even responds when you compliment her. She just smiles a bit and continues with what she was doing. You don’t mind. Deep down, your words make her want to be a better person.

Cuddling: she’s definitely new to cuddling. Remember when I said it’s like she’s touch starved but with compliments? Yeah, she’s also actually touch starved. The only touch she’s felt for the past several years is prison guards man handling her and kicking her ass. So when you excitedly jump into bed with her and cling to her like a koala bear, she’s beyond happy. She lets you do whatever you want to her. You wanna be the big spoon? Cool. You wanna be the little spoon? Awesome. You wanna sleep face to face, your limbs all tangled with hers? Hell yeah! She loves it all. When you two are falling asleep together is when she’s the most open to your touch. It’s gotten to the point where she can’t sleep unless she can feel you up against her.

Nose boops: in public, she’ll give you a look like 😒 “you better chill.” But in private, boop her nose and watch her smile grow until her cheeks hurt. Recently, she’s started booping your nose while in public or in front of others. At first, you’re so obsessed with it, you love it! After a while tho, you’re like “Hey! It’s okay when you do it but I can’t boop you in public? Not fair!” And she’s just shrugging with a smug look on her face. “Fine. I’ll stop then.” “NNOOOOOO VIOLET PLEASE! I TAKE IT BACK!”

She’s totally into how clingy you are, it makes her feel important. Don’t take it personally when she doesn’t reciprocate the amount of love you show her. She’s still learning how to be in a relationship. She loves you just as much as you love her, but she has a hard time expressing it. If anything, because you always initiate the touching and loving on her, she just tries to follow along and learn from you. AH Y’ALL ARE SO CUTE 💕

JINX 🦋

Baby girl thinks you two are soulmates, lovers from a past life, a match made in heaven. She’s so clingy too, you can never get any work done when you two are in the same room.

It gets to the point where Silco has to put his foot down like “(Y/N)! Jinx! We have work to do. Now please separate and finish the task at hand.” “Yes, sir….” You mumble shyly as you two part.

As soon as he’s out of the room, you’re crawling into Jinx’s skin again. And she’s like “oh my god. We were apart for like 30 seconds, I MISSED YOU SO MUCH.” Y’all are inseparable.

Sometimes she wishes she could be the shirt that clings to your body or the pants that hug your hips so tightly and she never wants you to take her off. She wants you to wear her until she can’t be worn anymore, until she’s old and falling apart.

Hugs: Jinx thinks your hugs have some kind of magic healing power behind them. Her sister was never a big hugger and she didn’t really have anyone else to hug her as a child so every time you give her big bear hugs and lift her off her feet and twirl her around, she literally gains like 5 years to her life span I stg. Jinx loses it over the simplest things, she’s a loose canon after all. No matter what mood she’s in, yank her into your arms and squeeze her until all her breath has left her lungs. She loves the feeling of being trapped in your loving arms. If you squeezed her so hard you broke her rib or something, she’d refuse to get medical attention and tell you to never let her go. Pretty much every time you hug her, she buries her face in your neck and whispers “mmm harder.” She wants you to literally CRUSH HER WITH YOUR LOVE.

Cheek kissing: you kiss her cheek at least 157 times a day and she ALWAYS returns the gesture. It even gets competitive sometimes. You’ll kiss her cheek and then quickly turn back to your work and she’s like 😤 “Give me your cutie face right now! I demand to kiss your cheek back!” You’ll go back and forth, kissing each other over and over while your work remains neglected and untouched in front of you. Cheek kisses make her smile and feel all warm and fuzzy inside but she also loves when you kiss her on other parts of her face. When you kiss her forehead, she always feels like she’s gonna cry. When you kiss her nose, she always giggles uncontrollably while her cheeks flush. Kiss her lips and she’s crawling into your lap, purring like a kitten as she kisses you back over and over again. You don’t often kiss each other on the lips but when you do, it’s like nothing else in the entire world matters. You and her are the only people to exist right now 💙

Compliments: she can’t get enough of your sweet praises. She’s always been told she’s bad and in the wrong place at the wrong time and she can never do anything right (I’m looking at you, Sevika). So every time you compliment or praise her, she falls deeper and deeper in love with you. “Jinx, you’re brilliant!” “You’re so pretty.” “Wow, I’m so lucky to have you in my life.” She’s always like 😍 🥰. Cue the mushy, gushy hugging and kissing and giggling and blushing. She’s not great at returning compliments so it usually goes like this: “You’re so beautiful, Jinx.” “No, YOU’RE so beautiful, (Y/N). “Oh my god, you’re a genius, Jinx!” “Pffft nah. You are! You’re like the smartest person I know.” She likes to just throw the same compliment back at you. She’s trying her best, okay?

Cuddling: SHE IS A CUDDLE EXPERT!!! Don’t ask where she learned it from, she’s just a natural born cuddler. Y’all don’t even have to be in bed trying to sleep for you two to start cuddling, you’re constantly bugging each other for physical affection. When you are falling asleep together late at night, she’ll cuddle you in any way she can BUT she loves being your little spoon the best. When you’re pressed up against her back with your arms consuming her thin body, she feels so safe and comfy. When she’s the little spoon, not only does she get the best sleep of her life but she’s also soooo hard to wake up in the morning. It’s a dream of hers for both of you to die in your sleep together while you spoon her from behind, like in the end of the notebook. I know, it sounds morbid but she’s just a really emotionally fucked up hopeless romantic. 🤷🏻

Nose boops: She love love loves nose boops. She’s changed a lot throughout her teenage years and it’s really hardened her but your innocent loving nose boops make her feel like a child again. She doesn’t understand much about romantic gestures so she copies you a lot. You boop her nose, she’ll boop yours right back. Eventually, you go from booping her nose with the tip of your finger to booping your own nose against her. Give her eskimo kisses and she will literally do anything for you. You love to rub your nose against hers gently before you ask for something and she always says yes to you.

You’re her other half, the piece she’s always been missing, you complete her. You’re so much alike, it’s astonishing. With every sweet romantic gesture you offer her, her heart grows a little bit more each time. Ew, y’all are so disgustingly in love. Plz get a room. ❤️‍🔥

#arcane #arcane league of legends #arcane lol #arcane x reader #arcane x you #vi x reader #violet x reader #jinx x reader #vi arcane #violet arcane #arcane violet #arcane vi #jinx arcane #arcane jinx #arcane fandom #here comes vi #get jinxed

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thebusytypewriter · 6 months

Text

Hail the Lamb, Resilient and Eternal

Here it is, the starting point of the Tri-God AU timeline! Many thanks to Jonnie @jonquilandlace my beloved for helping me out :D

You can also find this on AO3 if that suits you better.

CW: blood, gore, major character death (not permanent)

“MEDICS!”

All hell broke loose at the cry, startling every creature within the grounds into action. The aforementioned medics scrambled from their idle activities to meet a wide-eyed rabbit at the camp entrance, where they kept their benevolent leader from collapsing by holding them upright as best as they could.

The Lamb of prophecy, who seemed indestructible to the common folk, stood half limp in their support. Crimson blood flowed down their face from somewhere atop their wooly head, dripping onto both an equally-red cloak and the vegetation below. One eye was bruised deeply to the point of being swollen shut, while the other stared at the ground, cloudy and unfocused.

Truely, it was a rare sight to behold for their flock, and many panicked animals dropped what they were doing to either assist or observe.

In the small hut of a kitchen remained one deer, silver in color, who watched the events unfold with worry. Kaliaphra wasn’t one to act in such situations, lest she be in the way of the people whose skills mattered there. That wasn’t to say she was unskilled, just that she’d never belonged to the area of healing.

Instead, she stared with horrified intrigue, a half-finished fish dish already forgotten on the counter behind her.

“My Lamb!” exclaimed the head medic, an elderly turtle by the name of Zelva. “My Lamb, what happened? Can you speak? Please, say something if you are conscious!”

Despite her distance, Kaliaphra could tell that The Lamb didn’t respond based on the increased numbers of furrowed brows. More hurried words were exchanged between Zelva and her students, and the largest among them took their leader into their arms to carry them toward the healing tent. The Lamb’s limbs dangled limply as they did so.

Whatever had happened in Anura, it wasn’t good.

“Kali, your tuna’s burning.”

She startled, whirling back around to pull her skillet off the fire. “Hells, Theo! You nearly gave me a heart attack.”

The brown buck that entered the kitchen—Theanno, her cousin who might as well have been her brother—simply smiled at her, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “At least you’d be seeing Death. Aside from the, um, burning, how’s it coming in here?”

“Slow,” she sighed, pulling out a cloth to wrap the burnt fish. “I was already having a difficult time staying on task, and then The Lamb returned, and… did you get a better look at them? How bad is it?”

He leaned back against the countertop adjacent to her. “Couldn’t have seen more than you just now. That was… a lot of blood coming from them, though. I wonder if the healers can patch them up.”

“Well, even if they cannot, our leader will return to us shortly after, right? Death favors them. They bear his Crown.”

“Yeah, but…”

Kaliaphra turned sharply toward her cousin with wide eyes. “‘But’? Theo, you cannot question the nature of the Lamb.”

“I’m not,” he insisted. “I’m just worried. We’ve never seen them so hurt, right, so what happens if we lose them? Do we just… go back to where we were before?”

“We should not be thinking about this.”

“It’s a real problem, Kali! We couldn’t stay here; the Bishops—”

With a loud metallic thunk, Kaliaphra slammed the still-warm skillet on the counter next to him. She stared up at Theanno there, at his stunned expression, and hissed, “The Bishops, of two there are remaining, cannot touch this place. I am not worried about it, and you should not be, either. Imagine if an elder heard you; they would think that you are dissenting.”

Calmly, solemnly, Theo raised one hand and extended a finger to lightly boop her on the nose. “I’m not dissenting. We’re under the Lamb’s protection, I know. I’m just… thinking out loud. I’ve gotta get back to the crops. You should see if the healers need lunch. That way, you can keep an eye on our Lamb.”

The tonal shift of their conversation threw Kali off-balance. “What—you—”

“Okayloveyoubyeeee!” In a torrent of a wave and a head pat, Theanno slipped back out of the hut, leaving her alone again.

He throws existential dread on me then leaves, she grumbled to herself. Now I have to check in on the Lamb.

She grabbed a few covered bowls from the storage crate—only berries would be properly stored there—and layered them on a tray, careful to balance each even as she lifted the tray. It wasn’t an unpracticed movement, given how she’d taken to serving dinner to her family before, well, being separated from them. If anything, it was comfortingly familiar.

Kaliaphra slipped out of the kitchen hut and crossed the grounds toward the infirmary tent. Many of her fellow cultists were still floating around the entrance, their tasks remaining unfinished in their hands, but they didn’t seem to care. They stared at the infirmary in deep concern and only scattered when she gently told them to shoo.

With a deep breath, she prepared to announce her entrance, but a scream cut her off.

She shouldered her way inside to assist and was met with a rather… frightening scene.

The circle of healers had taken a large step back from the cot, each raising their hands in some semblance of placation. Upon the cot, most worryingly, squatted the Lamb. Their eyes were wide with fear, and they had somehow managed to grab hold of a small and pointy stick.

“Get back!” the Lamb shrieked, waving their acquired stick like a dagger. (Instinct, perhaps?) “I won’t go with you, do you understand? I refuse to be sacrificed just because of some… some dumb prophecy!”

Confounded murmurs filled the space.

“Prophecy?”

“Sacrifice?”

“Have they forgotten the years of this establishment?”

“My Lamb,” Zelva said, playing up her comforting tone, “we are not here to bring you to the Bishops. You escaped from them, and you have unified us all here under the Red Crown. Do you… not remember?”

They stared up at her with the most dumbfounded expression Kali had ever seen on them. “I don’t know what in the hells you’re talking about. I was… on my way to scavenge when a group of robed individuals—” The Lamb glanced suspiciously about the tent, which contained several people fitting that description— “bounded me in chains to take me away to the Bishops. I don’t follow the Red Crown; I don’t follow anyone!”

There was something of a faint collective gasp among the group (which made sense, since the Lamb was essentially speaking heresy without realizing it).

“Zelva,” Kali murmured, setting her tray of berry bowls on a table, “what… happened to them?”

The old turtle sighed and dragged a hand down her face. “From what I could see before they began threatening us with a stick, there are signs of severe head trauma possibly originating from their most recent trip through Anura. They most certainly defeated the Bishop Heket, but I imagine something hit them before they made their escape.”

“Meaning…?”

“Amnesia. At least partially. They appear to have forgotten events after their execution, including the founding of this camp.”

“And the Red Crown?”

“At the moment, Filip is placing the Crown within the Temple.”

“The sermons?”

“Canceled until further notice.”

“The Bishops?”

“Will never know.”

“But—”

“Kaliaphra.” Zelva grabbed her by the shoulders. “We will ensure that the Bishops will never know. If they find out, our little camp here is done for. We have nothing to defend us. Please, remain diligent in your duties, and if anyone asks, the Lamb is injured and recovering.”

Kali looked between her and their now-sedated leader, who appeared as a small lamb for once instead of the grand holy being the cult knew them to be.

Or thought them to be.

“Yes, ma’am,” she nodded. “If you or anyone here needs anything, let me know. Or let Theanno know.”

Zelva visibly relaxed, a tired smile finding its way onto her face. “Of course. Thank you, dear. We will get through this together, under Death’s grace.”

“Yes, ma’am. Praise the Lamb.”

Sleep was difficult to wrangle that night, and the next, and the next.

Kaliaphra stared at the roof of her tent as she silently begged to fall into the sweet abyss, but her thoughts granted her no such relief. She was too busy thinking about the events of the previous days, about Theanno’s words and Zelva’s worry and the Lamb’s evident amnesia.

“We’ve never seen them so hurt, right, so what happens if we lose them?”

“We will ensure that the Bishops will never know. If they find out, our little camp here is done for. We have nothing to defend us.”

Granted, it had hardly been half a week since the Lamb returned, but with how fast word spread about the camp, Kali was certain that all of the Lamb’s followers would know soon. If doubt grew among them, flowering into dissent, it would only be a matter of time before someone left and crawled back to the Bishops.

The Lamb was not improving.

Someone had to do something.

They needed help of divine levels, and she wondered, if nothing else, whether the Lamb’s sacred Red Crown would have some form of solution, even a temporary one. She’d seen its power in action before, when the Lamb took command over their fields during the Heket-inflicted famine. Surely it had something, like a barrier to put up around the grounds.

The only question was whether someone had to wear the Crown—or maybe even be skilled with it—for it to do something. Only one way to find out, she supposed.

Kaliaphra pushed herself up from her bedroll and cautiously poked her head outside, letting the tent flaps continue to obscure her some. She appeared to be lucky in that all lanterns around the residential area of the camp were out, save for the infirmary, which was still a large enough distance away that it wasn’t a threat.

She went through a mental checklist of members, trying to discern who did and didn’t have one of those moon pendants the Lamb had offered. The only one that came to mind was a medic, who was no doubt in the infirmary.

Assuming no one was guarding the Crown—and why would they, when anyone in the cult hardly separated it from its bearer in terms of fear and respect—she had a straight shot.

As swiftly as possible, Kali made a sprint for the temple. She dared not go slower, even if it meant a lesser likelihood of stepping on something loud, since it would be way more likely for someone to wake up for a snack or to use the outhouse. All she had to do was slip in through the semi-ajar door (which she mentally thanked Filip for, even if it was unintentional) and close it behind herself, which went off without a hitch.

A dim temple greeted her, the only light coming from the ever-lit candles on either side of the lectern. It was just enough to provide some visibility, even if both Kali and Theanno had great night vision to begin with, but more specifically on the Red Crown sitting upon the altar.

It was odd, seeing the Crown not on the Lamb’s head. While the Lamb, in their state, seemed much smaller than usual, the Crown without the Lamb felt larger than it should. More imposing, even. Its singular red eye remained wide open, and though its glow had dimmed significantly, she had the feeling it was anything but dormant as it stared through her.

She almost wanted to tell it to blink.

Nevertheless, Kali swallowed her unease and strode forward down the aisle just as she had been for something close to twenty years, which might as well have been two years with the enchanted pendants the Lamb had gifted her and Theo. It came second nature; little light needed to guide her.

Though she had never been afraid of the dark, her fur stood on end as she noticed the feeling of being watched. By the Crown? Perhaps, but… not quite.

With a bowed head, she stepped up to the altar. Her heart raced with the panic of I should not be here, I should not be the one standing at the altar, but she tried her best to shove it down. What she was doing was important and could possibly save the cult from being wiped out.

Kaliaphra lowered herself to kneel in front of the altar, bending until she was just under eye-level with the Red Crown and folding her hands neatly upon her lap. “I am… unsure if I should be addressing Death here, as I am simply looking at the Crown without its bearer, so I will plead with both god and tool.”

If the Crown could look expectant, it did.

“I fear for the safety of these people,” she began, letting her eyes fall shut. “I have only ever been afraid like this when the Lamb brought me here for the first time. I doubted then. Over time, I have grown to trust them with my life. But they have fallen. Not in death, but I am afraid this is worse. If it were death, The One Who Waits would surely revive them. Instead, they cannot be helped outside of medical attention, and even that is a waiting game.

“If the Bishops find this place, all will be executed for heresy. What shall be done? I would sacrifice anything to make this right. I would give my own life. What is my life in comparison to the many other lives being lived here? It is but a speck of dust.” Kali paused for a moment, cracking one eye open to check if the Crown was still paying attention. (What a silly thought, she mused. The Red Crown is not sentient.)

Its singular red eye stared back at her, unblinking and unmoving.

Somehow, that was more discouraging.

She sighed. “We were taught that The One Who Waits does not answer prayer directly. He speaks through his vessel in miracles, but they are the one to hear our pleas. What is left when the vessel forgets that they are a vessel? What is left when a fawn who loves her family has to leave them behind? Theanno… he is all I have of them here. I promised him that he would be safe in this place, under the Lamb.”

A growing desperation bubbled in her chest with each passing thought, and Kaliaphra found herself crawling forward to grasp the altar and stare into the Crown’s eye directly as her vision blurred. “Please, do you not understand how hopeless this is? I do not ask for much if you do not wish to give it, but the situation must be remedied! Tell me what I have to do! Help me!”

The plea rang out through the temple, bouncing off the walls again and again until it faded.

The Red Crown did nothing.

Bitterly, she had the passing thought that a no would’ve hurt less than this.

Kaliaphra pushed herself up to stand over the Crown upon the altar, wiping the few stray tears that had fallen. “…Foolish. I do not know why I thought Death would listen to one little follower, anyway. It was worth a—”

In a flash, a literal flash of red, the sacred artifact shifted forms.

No longer did she see the Red Crown as a crown, or at least not a full crown; the pointed tips of its top stretched and wrapped around and around each other to a point, leaving it in a vague lance shape in the span of milliseconds.

That is, she was only somewhat sure it came to a point. The end of the Crown was out of her view, even as she followed it from the altar closer to her and—

Through her chest.

Through her heart.

Out her back.

That was when she registered two things a second too late. One, the deafening squelch and crack of flesh and bone being driven through by, well, Crown. Two, the burning pain that felt more like a stream of red hot fire than a blade.

Kaliaphra screamed, agony tearing through her throat.

There was a fleeting thought that she just woke up the entire camp, but it was drowned by growing panic accompanied by the taste of iron in her mouth. Her throat was closing, but was it due to the blood, or was she in shock? Shit, she didn’t know enough about medicine to tell.

What she did know was that she was going to die.

She had asked to help her be rid of the situation.

Was this a sick joke?

Was it mercy?

To be put out of her misery?

Her hooves scraped weakly at the floor beneath her, the Crown’s sharp blade holding her just aloft with surprising strength—as if she weighed nothing to it. As she struggled to catch her breath, choking on it instead, a strangled bleat pulled itself from her in some desperate attempt to call for Theanno.

The Red Crown retracted then, its lance shape ripping from her chest and dropping her onto the wooden floor. Kaliaphra’s vision was flickering then, and a horrific numbness began to settle in. The floor grew wet beneath her, and she felt it pooling around her fingertips and ear as she lay discarded on her side.

What… did I do wrong?

A distant muffled bleat was the last thing she heard.

Then there was nothing.

When her eyes opened, Kaliaphra was blinded with white.

Given how dark the temple had just been, the change of brightness was undesirable. The sky above her was far too bright, and the ground beneath her was far too soft. Fluffy, almost.

Odd.

She turned her head to get a better look and was greeted not with a wooden floor, but with what appeared to be… clouds.

A discomfort upon her chest suddenly became apparent to her, both crushing and sharp, two different sensations. Images flashed through her memory. The eye, the blade, the blood.

The weighted sensation, she realized, was likely her stopped heart.

Kali moved to sit up, knocking something sitting on her chest onto her lap instead. When she looked down, she was greeted with the unblinking stare of the Red Crown.

“You,” she murmured, afraid of her voice carrying through the expanse. “What… did you do?”

There was no response, which had to be the most normal thing in the situation. It was still enough that one wouldn’t have known how it morphed to stab her only moments ago.

Kaliaphra huffed through her nose with growing annoyance. “Some help you are. Perhaps if I simply stay here and do not move, do not interact with anything, I will wake up from this nightmare. The Lamb will be fine, everyone will be safe, and everything will be as it should.”

“I know you’re there.”

A deep, rumbling voice reverberated around her, startling her and sending some of the clouds scattering. Kali looked up from her lap to fully survey her surroundings, and she took notice of a distant but massive figure bound in chains among the clouds. The image was familiar, one that the Lamb had explained vaguely to their flock from their times of indoctrination. Death had an incredibly recognizable appearance, all things considered.

She swallowed hard, a pit opening in her stomach.

The distance and the veil made it impossible for her to see his face, but she somehow knew that The One Who Waits was looking directly at her. “Come closer, little fawn,” the tall cat bishop purred. “In death, you will be of use to me.”

Kali looked back down at the Crown.

It looked back at her, and she’d almost expected it to give a meaningful glance toward said bishop. A go on gesture, in a sense. But it gave no such answer.

Once again, incredibly helpful.

She lifted the Crown from its place on her lap and pushed herself up, instinctively brushing off her tunic as if rising from the dirt instead. (It was silly, she acknowledged, but at least it could give her the appearance of being put together.)

Kaliaphra strode forward on shaking legs through the parting clouds. If she was to meet her god, she needed to be calm and collected, but her tight grip on the Crown did nothing to help.

As she grew closer, she noticed the two smaller cats kneeling on either side of the god. Their fur was a deep gray—not quite black—and their matching pairs of crimson eyes remained solely on her as she approached. The one on Death’s right donned black and red robes, while the one on his left had white robes. Both wore veils like their master, though theirs were slightly more transparent, hence why she could meet their intense stares.

She felt more like an intruder within their space. Her gaze snapped once again to the being in the middle, though she dared not look him in the eye, instead settling for the clouds at his feet.

The sound of her footsteps changed from soft pompfs of air to hooves on stone as she stepped onto a small circular platform painted with a pentagram, and she figured that was a good place to pause. Kali dipped low into a curtsey, one she had perfected during her time under the Bishop Shamura, but said nothing. The common rule within the Silk Cradle was do not speak unless spoken to.

Given how she was standing before Death, she didn’t feel like testing the limits with other gods.

“Polite little thing,” said The One Who Waits, finally. “What a refreshing change of pace. Stand, little fawn, and let me see you.”

Without a second thought, she complied, raising her gaze enough to find the bottom edge of his veil.

“How peculiar that you would enter my domain with my Crown in your hands. I entrusted that Crown to The Lamb. How is it, then, that you hold it, mere follower?”

Despite having little-to-no control over that exact situation, Kali stuttered, “I mean no disrespect by it, my lord! The Lamb is—”

He held up one skeletal hand to stop her. “I am well aware of what has befallen my vessel. It is… inconvenient, to say the least. Since The Lamb is neither dead nor dying, I can do nothing to assist. Truly a setback.” Jagged teeth became more visible as the corners of his mouth curled upward. “But no matter. You worry for the safety of your flock, do you not? That is why you volunteered your life.”

Kaliaphra bit her lip anxiously for a moment. She did offer her life to the Crown in panic, didn’t she? While she certainly didn’t expect to stand before The One Who Waits in order to fulfill that statement, there really were only so many ways such an offer would come to fruition. “What… What would you have me do, my lord? I am just a deserter who can only somewhat mince fish and cauliflower.”

“Ah… but you can brandish a knife, then?” The God of Death inclined his head in what she faintly recognized to be a patronizing manner. “While you may not believe it, that is more than The Lamb could say when they first appeared before me. Rejoice in your abilities, for they will save your hide in battle.”

“B-Battle, my lord?”

She swore she saw the cat at his right snicker from her question.

“Battle,” he repeated. “Despite the façade you put on, I know you are familiar with it. I have seen you cut down many an enemy during your time as a soldier trainee.”

Ah, damn it. “Oh, I, uh—“

“And yet you lie to my face.” The ever-present grin dropped abruptly. “Fear lingers in you despite your experience, Kaliaphra. I will be merciful just this once.”

Kali’s breath hitched as terror took its choking hold on her. He knew her name. He knew her by name. “Forgive me, please! I would have been upfront about it, but… it has been some time since I fought last.”

The One Who Waits waved a hand. “It has become instinct for you, nonetheless, one that you will utilize while you bear the Crown.”

It was like ice had been dumped over her. She dared to meet his gaze, finally. “…My lord?”

“A temporary vessel,” he clarified, his wide smile of sharp teeth returning. “You shall take on the duties of the Lamb until they can return once more. Tend to the flock. Venture forth on crusades. Spread faith and influence. Slay my traitorous siblings. That is for which you have volunteered your life.”

She stared up at him, up at the gleeful unblinking trio of red eyes behind a veil, and found no trace of humor. No ounce of empathy. The One Who Waits was placing her in the position of leader against her will. If she should decline…

One clawed hand, belonging to the white-robed cat in white on Death’s left, twitched as if he’d heard her thought.

Ah. She couldn’t.

To decline meant death. No doubt it would be an insult to the bishop himself. She had no other option.

“It will not be for an eternity,” The One Who Waits purred, “that much I can swear with the assumption that my vessel recovers. Should they not, your position will become a permanent one. Do we have an understanding, fawn?”

As much as she wanted to do otherwise, Kaliaphra lowered herself back into a deep curtsy. “Y…Yes, my lord. I will do everything in my power to serve you.”

“Good. Do not disappoint me. Unlike the Lamb, you are incredibly replaceable.”

The pentagram lit up beneath her feet, and her soul left the Below with a new weighing dread upon it.

Kaliaphra propped herself up with one arm and promptly vomited onto the floor next to the altar.

Her chest ached, not with the pain of the fatal wound but with anxiety and horror. She was faintly aware that she had, in fact, returned to the living world, but she was waiting for the pounding of her heart to cease before fully taking stock.

Was she dreaming? Surely, she had been dreaming. In her panic to do something about the Lamb’s situation, she had run into the temple and… hit her head. Passed out. That was the only logical option. Or, better yet, all of that was a dream, too; she’d eaten some wild mushrooms by mistake and had a wild dream as a result.

…Why did her head feel so heavy?

Something, some form of light, reflected off of the polished quartz altar, startling Kali. As she turned her head back to further investigate, the colored light reflected again—red. Once she sat still, the steady red glow remained… just above her head, if the silhouette was anything to go by. Was that…

She raised one hand up to grab it, but the crash of the temple doors startled her into dropping her hand and pushing herself onto her feet.

“Kaliaphra,” came the clipped voice of Zelva as she led what looked like the entire cult into the room. “What on earth is—Are you wearing the Red Crown?”

Her eyes ran over the assembling crowd, already trying to think of a way out of facing them yet. Was there one, though? Was it right to wait, if this was in fact really happening? Was there even a way for her to answer without looking like a fool? “Y…Yes, I am.”

The old turtle scoffed incredulously. “Stars above, no one should be touching it but the Lamb. And—is that… blood? Vomit? Child, are you drunk?”

“No!” she snapped back, the weight of the eyes on her immensely present. “I am not drunk. I… I have…”

But she trailed off, uncertain how exactly to explain the situation. Kali’s eyes skimmed the assembled followers, searching desperately for reassurance, for familiarity, for her cousin’s eyes among colleagues, friends, acquaintances, accusers.

In the doorway, familiar horns just barely fit in the doorway.

She held her breath, a long moment, then began again. “I have spoken to The One Who Waits. It appears that he has placed me in the Lamb’s position until they recover. And I know that sounds insane, but…” She looked down at herself, reaching up to run her fingers over the tender flesh where her impalement wound had been. The skin there was still agitated and raw, like a fresh scar had just formed. “I died, I believe. That was the commotion you heard. If you will just—”

“A’right,” huffed Chifre, the rhinoceros in charge of behavior enforcement, as he stepped through the crowd toward her. “Take the Crown off, c’mon.”

Anxiety flipped to annoyance in just a moment, and she straightened her spine stubbornly. “I cannot. I now have a duty to uphold, it seems.”

“No, you don’t. Take it off, or I’ll take it myself. Playtime’s over, kid.”

“I am not a child!”

Her voice boomed through the space, and she would’ve taken notice of how it split apart if it weren’t for the flash of bright red, almost like lightning, that illuminated it all. The light seemed to startle the crowd more than her, as they all scrambled back several feet from the altar, eyes blown wide.

They… weren’t looking at her.

Kaliaphra turned, slowly, and looked up to the front wall of the temple.

Over the wood and stained glass, there resided a massive shadow, one of distinct silhouette, stretching across the pulpit floor to the wall and traveling up to touch the ceiling. The body, with its tall feline ears and glowing trio of eyes, was incredibly familiar to Kali herself. Its limbs, clearly defined as skeletal and crude, extended over the walls and arched across the temple floor. There, the claws of bone hovered around the place where the deer stood, as if claiming her—his plaything, perhaps.

Separate from the shadow, Kaliaphra was graced with the whisper of feeling bone brush her cheek. It was a distant mockery of sentiment, but it made her heart leap into her throat all the same.

“Stand tall, my vessel,” the voice of The One Who Waits purred into her ear. “They will learn to fear you in time.”

Then, with another flash of red light, it was all gone. Kali and the others were left standing in an empty temple, shellshocked at what had just occurred.

They stared at her, no longer annoyed, but hesitant. As if they didn’t know what to do.

Across the crowd, Kaliaphra’s gaze finally found her cousin’s, meeting eyes wide in something between awe and terror. He ran his gaze over her form, inspecting her, she thought, hesitating on the blood stain on her shirt, then the glowing crown, and then back to meet her eyes in turn, looking for something, the same safety they’d promised one another for years.

Then, finding it, whatever he was looking for, his expression calmed, pride replacing the fear as a grin stretched over his cheeks. He bent his knee, head still raised, unwilling to break her gaze, yet folding over nevertheless.

A bow, she realized. He is bowing. To… to me?

“My Fawn,” Theanno called.

The followers nearest to him looked back, murmurs rippling through them, noises and expressions flickering wildly between surprise and… uncertainty, perhaps, before looking back to the crown that now rested on her brow.

Then, with the same subtle confidence, one follower after another bent at the knee, their gazes turning to the ground.

“My Fawn.”

“My Fawn!”

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skyward-floored · 1 year

Note

for iau prompts, maybe wild and wolfie bonding hours? <33

Heat and pain.

Heat and pain and someone clutching his arm, holding him down, multiple arms holding him down, and he couldn’t get away even though—

Then even more heat and pain and screaming that he couldn’t tell was his own or not and burning, burning burning burning—

Fur.

Wild choked as the sensation drew him out of the nightmare, reaching out to clutch at the fur that was carefully waiting for him wake up.

The fur curled around him the moment he moved, soft and safe. A nose nuzzled at his face, and Wild focused on Twilight as he gasped for breath, the images from his nightmare slowly fading.

The fear stayed though, so horrible it felt like there was a weight crushing him into pieces. A sick feeling rolled around in Wild’s stomach, and he pressed his face further into his brother’s fur, trying to remember through the fog of terror and leftover sleep what Dad always told him to do.

Deep breaths, Wild, Time would say, rubbing him gently on the back while he tried to calm down. Deep breaths.

Dad obviously hadn’t been woken up by him tonight, but Wild could still do what he usually did.

Twilight nuzzled him again, and Wild ran a hand through his thick fur, the repeated motion soothing him as he tried to take deep breaths. It was hard to at first— really hard, actually, but slowly Wild’s breathing started to even out, and his heart stopped thudding quite so hard.

He focused on the softness of the fur curled around him, and the deep, steady breaths of his brother. An owl hooted somewhere outside his window, but Wild didn’t even flinch, feeling much calmer now. His nightmare had faded into nothing but a distant feeling of leftover fear, but it was one that he could ignore enough to fall back asleep.

He couldn’t even remember what the nightmare had been about anymore.

“Thank you Twi,” he whispered, and Twilight’s tail wagged happily.

Wild watched it swish back and forth for a moment, relaxing further into the fur he was cuddled in. Twilight yawned as he curled up a little more tightly, and Wild suddenly felt a wriggle of guilt squirm into his stomach.

This would be the third night in a row he’d woken Twilight up with a nightmare, and it dawned on him now that his brother must be missing an awful lot of sleep on his account.

“Twi?” he whispered, and the wolf flicked an ear to show he was listening. “Do you... are you ever mad that I keep waking you up? You miss out on sleep, and...”

Twilight raised his head and looked at Wild, blue eyes equally warm and intense in the faint glow from the nightlight.

I don’t mind, he was saying, gently bonking his head with Wild’s. Not for you.

“You’re sure?” Wild whispered, and Twilight lightly booped his nose with his, making him giggle. “Okay, okay!”

Feeling much lighter in his chest, Wild snuggled tightly up against Twilight, closing his eyes as his brother relaxed. His tail was still wagging, just a little, and the last thing Wild was aware of before falling back asleep was the overwhelming sensation of feeling safe.

#mention of child abuse #tw violence #Incredibles au #linked universe fanfic #lu wild #lu wolfie #lu twillight #answers from the floor #anon #writing from the floor #incredibles au fic #you were probably fishing for fluff sorry about that XD #it’s got a LITTLE fluff #this is a little short but yknow #s’what I thought of

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natasha-in-space · 9 months

Note

Thinking of JaeheeMC where MC wants a cat (shes a cat lover) but esp a sphynx cat cuz she doesnt want jaehee to clean cat fur again and stress her out. The sphynx cat also eventually makes jaehee his favourite person (yeah its a boy bald kitty) and acts territorial with her by hissing at mc whenever she comes close to jaehee esp when he is making biscuits on jaehee.

"...You know, when I said I wanted you two to get along, this is not what I had in mind."

Your words come out as a comical mix of a needy whine and a hushed grumble.

Your approach to adopting your first pet together was as responsible as it could be. Jaehee was an exceptional partner who was always willing to listen to your suggestions and even sacrifice some of her own comfort just to make you happy. Of course, you didn't want to hear any of that. Moving in together meant creating a shared home that is cozy and comfortable for you both, in equal measure! Treating her wants and needs with equal consideration to your own was not a possibility, but a necessity. That's how you viewed it, anyways. You two were now a team, after all.

You came across Beans by chance. With you scrolling through your news feed on one cold winter evening, you noticed a cute little post about a sphinx kitty in need of a loving home. Needless to say, you have fallen in love with those huge doe eyes of his right then and there. And since Beans would not bring any unneeded fur into your household, you didn't have any reservations about showing him to your lovely Jaehee!

Maybe she just saw the sparkle in your eyes, or maybe she genuinely took a liking to him, but either way, she agreed for you two to come and see him for yourselves.

While she was visibly a bit reluctant at first (babysitting Elizabeth the 3rd made her naturally weary of cats), once you two have met Beans in person, she seemed to gradually mellow out towards him. Especially when he gave her a sweet purr when he nudged her hand. Honestly, you were unsure which made your heart pound more: the adorable cat you wanted to grab and take home immediately, or the softest smile on your girlfriend's face.

Beans was certain to become your new family member, no matter what.

You didn't anticipate him becoming your rival for Jaehee's attention, however. To your disappointment.

Observing Beans carefully knead your partner's lap while purring so loudly that even you could hear it, you pout. Even though the musical has been going for almost an hour, he refuses to give up his spot! That doe eyed rascal.

"...Are you jealous?"

Jaehee's laughter is so sweet that you wish you could pull her close to your chest and nuzzle her hair. The reason you can't is because a particularly clingy cat has already beaten you to it. Which is just even more frustrating.

"-Well, maybe I wanna cuddle up to you on your lap as well!" you declare loudly, sending Beans an annoyed glance, and he responds with a smug slow blink that made you want to scream. The little guy had no regrets about what he was doing and was fully aware of it!

As you huff and cross your arms over your chest in defiance, your pout is becoming more and more evident.

That doesn't imply that you didn't love Beans with all your heart, of course.

"You do remember that he's just a cat, right?" Jaehee lightly boops you with the tip of her finger, causing your nose to scrunch up a bit, "There's nothing to be making a fuss about."

You two were too enamored with Jaehee for your own good, that's all. Which was quickly confirmed when you tried to get closer to your girlfriend, only to receive an annoyed growl from the comfortable cat. With a defeated sigh, you plop right back onto the couch, your head hanging low in surrender.

"-Well, he's a cat who's way too cunning for his own good! Look at him! He knows what he's doing!"

"Meow~!"

The little guy had no shame in his tiny and adorable body.

#mystic messenger #mysmes #mysme #mm #jaehee kang #kang jaehee #mystic messenger jaehee #jaehee x reader #anon #HELLO ANON I LOVE YOUR MIND #i didn't have time for a proper drabble but your ask has been rotating in my brain the whole day!#so i just needed to scribble something up

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byhees · 2 years

Text

grocery shopping.

엔하이픈 재윤 ・ female reader + word count 600 genre fluff established relationship warnings not proof-read — more

a/n. blank

to jake, you were his everything. his little firefly to light up the veil of darkness, his personal pillow for him to snuggle up against late at night, his radio that he loved to tune in and listen to on repeat— that’s the gist of it.

he absolutely adored you, and everything about you. as jake described it, you were the only thing he needed on a deserted island; though you’d beg to differ, because he couldn’t live a day without his phone. still, cute.

he would use up any free time that he had with you. to him, the little moments mattered as much as the big ones; one good location for your ‘jake-yn special time’ was, surprisingly, the supermarket.

an activity that you two liked to do there was termed, ‘the ride of shame’. reason for its name? it was just embarrassing to do in the middle of a public place.

how it was played? wheeling and pushing each other around the aisles using a trolley. jake liked to call it a ‘budget amusement park ride’, and you couldn’t have agreed more.

to jake, it was endearing seeing you so exhilarated, arms shot up in the air. it may sound odd, you felt so much joy in being propelled down an empty aisle; and of course, you two made sure to steer clear from shoppers. you didn’t want to be the cause of someone’s hospital trip.

with your sweet tooth, you’d gravitate towards the ‘sale’ section at times, occasionally scooping up a copious amount of gummies and candies while proclaiming that you’d “need it for trick-or-treating”. halloween was months away, so you weren’t fooling anybody, especially not jake.

he’d discreetly take some packs out, sneaking off to place them back at their original positions— he didn’t want your teeth to fall out by the age of 40.

also, he realised eventually that you’d often hide your struggle to reach the higher items on shelves. maybe you felt embarrassed having to ask him for help? either way, jake would always find the timing to intervene, butting in like prince charming.

“is mine own princess experiencing some troubleth?” he’d chime, before grabbing onto the item with wiggly eyebrows, as though he was trying to fish those compliments out of you.

at times, jake would shamelessly slip in a few snacks into the growing pile of groceries, not even putting in the effort to stuff it under the other things. he’d just distract you by pressing a peck on your forehead, or by stopping down to your eye-level to boop your nose, a self-made sound effect escaping his lips.

and when you were at the self-checkout counter, your eyebrows would knit together at the sight of groceries sticking out of the recyclable bag. you were certain that you picked the biggest one in the cupboard too.

jake would just gawk at you, eyes a-glint with innocence and an equal amount of confusion, a “gee, how did those get there? are you sure you didn’t put them into the cart unknowingly?” leaving his lips.

you’d find out inevitably, but that was fine with you; he looked really satisfied and euphoric about his supposed victory, that it was hard to bring up how obvious he was being.

taglist open! @wondipity @yjjungwon

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kookieswan · 2 years

Note

Yoongi and Cyclamen 🥹✨

Cyclamen - Sincere Tenderness

Yoongi x Reader

Word Count: 500+

Genre: Roommate AU, Frenemies to Lovers AU, Fluffy fluff.

Summary: You love playing games with Yoongi, but it’s time to start something new.

Notes: Yoongi is so fun to write heh. I hope you enjoy love, happy new years 🌸

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

“You got me flowers?” Yoongi pauses in the doorway, keys dangling between his fingers as he blinks at you. His cheeks are red, no doubt from the biting cold outside and certainly not from the embarrassment of getting you such a nice gift. Certainly not.

You had got home from work and almost everything was the same in the apartment. The same headphones on the couch, the same notebook in the kitchen table, the same uneaten apple in the sad little fruit bowl. What had been different though was the giant vase filled to the brim with beautiful red flowers. You just can’t imagine how they got there.

“That wasn’t me. Nope.” His lips twitch, eyes unable to meet yours as he slowly walks into your shared apartment. But you’ll play his game, because playing with Yoongi is one of your favorite things. He may be a sarcastic asshat, but he’s your favorite asshat. Maybe that’s why you’ve put up with his banter for so many years.

“No…? I suppose it was the ghost that lives with us then?” He nods his head instantly, slowly shirking off his leather jacket and tossing it onto the couch. Crossing his arms, he raises his eyebrows and juts his chin out toward you.

“That’s exactly it. Look at you, so smart and analytical. I’m impressed.” A cheeky smirk, one that only grows as he saunters closer to look at the pretty bouquet. It’s huge, more flowers than you can count, enough that you looked past the card that’s nestled snuggly within the red petals. Plucking it out, you miss the flash of uncertainty in Yoon’s eyes as you open it.

“____, I know you like flowers or whatever so here you go. Happy New Years.” Not just any flower ‘or whatever’, but your favorite. It’s silent in the apartment as you meet his gaze. You stare at each other, both of your faces equally as blank. Glancing back down at the card, you try your best not to giggle giddily. What an adorable sap.

“…Did the ghost also sign the card off with your name?” Yoongi kisses his teeth, quickly plucking a flower from the vase. He glares at it like it’s offended him, like it’s going to end the world, slowly fingering the petals as he obviously tries to avoid the question.

“… There are plenty of people named Yoonie.” The giggles finally escape then as his eyes cut back to you, stroking the soft petals from the flower. Stepping close, so close these you’re in his personal bubble, you boop his button nose. It scrunches cutely, his eyes narrowing as he glares fakely.

“I didn’t specify that it was signed as Yoonie.” His face softens as he observes you, looking down at the flower and hiding behind his long bangs. Carefully, he holds it out, his hand trembling enough to be noticeable as he continues to look everywhere but at you.

“… Go to dinner with me. A date… Or whatever.” Raising a hand, you go past the flower easily and wrap your hand around his. It’s slightly clammy, surely not from nerves, but still warm and strong under your touch. Stroking his fingers gently with your own, you give him a blinding smile. It’s time to end this game so you can start a new one.

“I would love to.”

#yoongi x reader #yoongi x y/n #yoongi x you #yoongi fluff #bts x reader #bts x y/n #bts x you #bts fluff

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nandysparadox · 1 month

Text

A Wish Your Heart Makes - Ch.5 ♡

No matter how your heart is grieving

Prev - Chapter Five - Next - Masterpost - [ AO3 ]

Rated T - CW: angst (with comfort), emotional abuse and manipulation, slight physical abuse (patton is knocked against the wall), destruction of personal things, magical compulsion - WC: 5385

“I have to say, your Highness, you’ve truly surprised me,” L commented, as he poured Roman a cup of tea, “Throwing a ball geared towards finding your consort? It’s a bold strategy, but I appreciate the initiative.”

V scoffed from his seat across the table. “Bold isn’t the word I’d use. Suspicious is more like it. I find it hard to believe that you’ve suddenly had a change of heart regarding all of this and decided to take such a drastic measure.” V narrowed his bright purple eyes, taking a sip of his tea. It just… phased through the shadows that made up his body. Roman would never get used to seeing that. “What are you scheming, Princey?”

“What? Uh– me? Why, I’d never—” Roman struggled around an excuse, but it wouldn’t pass his lips. He sighed, smiling sheepishly. “It’s nothing harmful,” he settled on.

V hummed, unimpressed.

“C’mon, V, Ro has finally done something interesting for once,” Remus whined, reaching over his seat to throw an arm around V’s shoulders. V genuinely hissed in response. “Maybe he’s even gotten the stick out of his ass! Don’t ruin this for me.”

Roman shook his head, amused, as Remus and his consort began to bicker like they always did. A hand tapped his shoulder while he took a sip of his tea.

“Nothing harmful, you say?” L whispered, so only Roman could hear. “Then I imagine this has nothing to do with your merchant boy, has it, Florian?”

Roman choked. He put down his teacup, clearing his throat.

“The ball is for the people,” he said, firmly, to the three of them. It wasn’t a lie, really. “That sort of celebration shouldn’t be reserved only for the Court, and if I am to choose a consort, I’d hope to give all folk equal opportunity. I can’t do that if I only mingle with the Gentry.”

V tapped against the table, sighing. “I suppose I can get behind that.”

As he took the tea tray away, L shot him a knowing smile. Roman averted his eyes. Truth be told, he had no clue what were the chances that this plan would work. But… he needed to try. He had to act now, or else Cinder might just slip from his fingers forever.

Roman couldn’t let that happen, not without at least making his feelings known.

—♡—

Patton carefully balanced the sash around his shoulders as he strode through the corridor — stitching throughout the hemline to keep the fabric from fraying, all with one hand. He looped the thread at the end and drove the needle through the light blue cloth to tie it into a finishing knot. Pulling the knot tight, he snapped the leftover thread with his teeth. There it was. Patton smiled. He had the luck to snag an old suit at the market for a bargain, and after days of relentless work fixing it up, all that was left for him to do was add the final touches.

As he reached the attic stairs, Jaq came scampering down the banister and lept right over to Patton’s shoulder.

“Hi, buddy,” Patton said, scratching the little mouse’s head with his finger. “Aren’t you excited today, huh?”

Jaq bumped up against his palm with a chirp, drawing a giggle from him. Patton climbed up the stairs with a pep in his step.

“Well, I know I am,” he said, booping Jaq’s snout. He leaned down and whispered, voice barely containing his enthusiasm. “Today’s the day of the Ball, finally!”

Even though it should’ve occupied his mind, working diligently on his suit for the past few days hadn’t discouraged any of the mounting excitement he felt. As he pinned swathes of fabric into place, he found himself daydreaming more often than not, imagining the palace and the ballroom and the glittering lights so vividly it felt as if he was there. And now, he wanted nothing more than to rush to his mannequin and dive back into sewing all the remaining details until time passed just a little faster.

As he reached the top of the stairs, humming a little tune under his breath, he unlocked the door that led into the attic and walked in.

Only to freeze on the spot. Jaq ducked under his sash, trembling.

The Faerie stood by his makeshift wire mannequin, right in the middle of his room, her back to the door. Sunlight streamed between the open blinds, lighting up the dust in the air. Boxes and old furniture surrounded every corner of the space. Her long golden hair swayed as she turned to face him, a toothy grin splitting her lips. Her eyes widened, a little wild.

“Oh, hello there, dear,” She crooned, swinging her hip to the side, “I’ve been waiting for you.”

Patton swallowed and squared his shoulders. He gave her a pleasant smile, bowing slightly. “Good afternoon, miss.”

Jaq managed to dart into his pouch undetected. Patton relaxed slightly but kept the perfect posture. It was okay. He could handle this.

The Faerie sauntered towards him. “I only came to the attic to pay a visit to my little darling,” she cooed, her hand coming up to pinch Patton’s cheek. He held back a wince. “I did not expect to find such a beautiful little ensemble here.”

“Ah, well,” Patton chuckled nervously, taking a subtle step back. “It’s just a new project…”

“I see that!” The Faerie said with a delighted clap. She tilted her head to look at his suit, clasping her hands together. “Oh, you are such a talented little thing, aren’t you? Made yourself an elegant little suit and everything. What sort of fabric did you use? I don’t believe I’ve seen this blue kind around here,” She circled around him and tugged at his sash. Patton shifted his weight. “Oh, but I shouldn’t question that, you are one natural scavenger, aren’t you?”

Patton bit the inside of his cheek as she parted from his side and strode back to the mannequin. She lifted a sleeve and ran her fingers over the silver fringe on the hem.

“Oh, I can only wish I had such a captivating outfit,” The Faerie lamented, flicking a tassel. “Especially today. I’m attending a ball, in the Royal Palace, if you can believe me,” she said, glancing at Patton as she dropped the sleeve. “The little princelet’s latest endeavor. I refused the invitation, at first, and when I changed my mind I thought that surely I must’ve missed my chance, but wouldn’t you know what I found…”

The Faerie reached into her pocket and flicked up an envelope, smiling. The parchment had been folded in half, its corners marked by ashen fingertips.

Patton’s heart sank.

“An invite. Wasn’t it just my luck I encountered it amidst your things?” The Faerie said, with the same cadence of someone who’d apologize as they willingly pushed you off a cliff. “Of course, I haven’t the slightest idea about how it would’ve gotten in your hands.”

She slinked behind the dress form, laying her hand on the garment’s shoulders.

“After all, who in their right mind would invite a puny little human to the Royal Ball?” Her nails dug into the seam that connected the sleeve to the armhole — and with an innocent flutter of her eyelashes, she yanked. The thread snapped, and the sleeve tumbled down to the floor, mercilessly torn from its body piece. The Faerie dodged it as she walked away, not sparing it another glance. “That’d be ridiculous.”

Patton shuffled wordlessly toward the dress form, eyes wide in disbelief. He touched the ripped seam, a gash through the outfit he’d spent hours mending. The fabric frayed under his fingertips.

It wouldn’t be difficult to fix. He could patch it up, sew the sleeve back on, maybe even in time for the ball. A wave of sorrow rose in Patton’s throat, and he clutched his fingers around the suit’s lapel.

But that didn’t matter, did it?

A hand brushed against his lower back and trailed up his spine, settling on his shoulders. “But, of course, that isn’t the only thing I found tracking your scraps of thread,” The Faerie whispered — her voice made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. Her fingers rose to press against the curve of his throat, impossibly cold. “You’ve been keeping secrets, haven’t you, my little apprentice?”

He stared at her, helpless, as she detached from his side and slid over to the attic door. The Faerie twisted the handle, glancing back at him without a hint of her usual false delight.

“Follow me.”

Patton did so, hands trembling and hopelessly confused. She left no room to argue in her tone of voice. The stairs creaked beneath his feet with each step he took. The Faerie did not say another word as she guided him through the manor, and it made it all the worse.

It was when they rounded the main stairwell that he understood. They came to a stop there, and his chest caved in. Jaq squirmed inside his pouch, as if sensing his distress, and Patton prayed it wouldn’t try to escape. If it was caught, there wasn’t a thing he could say now that would save it. The Faerie gestured to the hollow space under the stairway, her piercing gaze trained on Patton.

“Come on then, it’s unlocked,” she said, drumming the tips of her fingers against the wall. “Why don’t you show me what you’ve hidden under there, hm?”

Patton stood there, feet rooted to the ground, for a moment too long, and The Faerie cocked her head to the side, hair falling over one of her eyes. She raised an eyebrow.

“Or do you expect me to crouch?”

Panic spiked in his chest and sent him into motion. Patton bent down and slipped under the stairs at her command. He lowered to his knees and planted his hands against the small, wooden door melded to the wall, his legs shaking. It opened for him with a click. He didn’t have the chance to thank the house. With a shuddering breath, he reached inside, past the door.

One by one, he drew all his things out of the crawlspace.

The burrow wasn’t empty by any means, but most of his collection, the human items he kept, had been steadily replaced by traded goods. Glass cups of all shapes. Drops of potions in flasks. Gems, crystals, coins. Charms and jars, little silver boxes. Much less fabric, now that he’d sewn his suit. His shoulders slumped as he lined them up on the floorboards. Patton tried to find comfort in the monotonous repetition of organizing, to admire the beauty of them at least one last time, but he couldn’t. He felt as if on the edge of a pier, like one harsh wind could shove him into the sea.

When Patton was done, he placed his hands on his lap, waiting for the storm.

He heard The Faerie approach him, “Say, dear, are you a thief?”

Patton clutched the ragged fabric of his pants. “No, miss.”

“Have you stolen these items?”

“I haven—”

“Then how else did you get your hands on them?” A pause. “Why, if you’ve been here cooped up at the manor, as you so often complain, I don’t see how you could’ve acquired all this treasure. Unless, of course—”

She droned on. Twisting her words, circling a conclusion the both of them knew she’d already come to — for no other reason other than to see him struggle, to keep the upper hand even when she already had him in her grasp. Prolonging the inevitable, like she always did. The Faerie paced behind Patton as she spoke, her voice growing louder with every passing second. Her shoes clicked against the hardwood floor, again and again in a cacophony of noise. His hands tightened into fists, nails digging into his palms, and it was all too much, too much for him, he had to—

“They’re for you!” Patton cried out, gasping.

“…For me?”

He kept his eyes firmly on the crevices between the floorboards, chin quivering. That was it. It would be now, or never.

“I want to make a deal.”

Her feet clicked audibly as she stopped behind him. The Faerie was silent for a moment, and then she spoke. “Get up then, dear,” she said. “We don’t speak of deals on our knees, it’s undignified.”

Patton scampered away from under the staircase, careful to dodge the things set out of the crawlspace. The Faerie made way for him, and when he chanced a proper glance at her, she seemed… intrigued. Curiosity had taken the place of cold steel in her eyes. A dangerous, fickle, sliver of hope sparked in his heart.

“Well, then,” she said, flicking her hand, “What is it that you want?”

“I want to trade these,” Patton said, as level as he could make it. He looked at her straight on, hoping to muster up an image of confidence he didn’t truly feel, “F-For my name back.”

The Faerie hummed, and Patton held his breath as she elegantly curved down to pick up a blown glass goblet. She examined it, and then, for a moment that seemed to last years, she trailed her finger down its stem, which had been expertly sculpted into the shape of a flower.

With a tilt of her head and a cruel quirk of her lips, she slackened her grip. The goblet fell, shattering into a thousand little shards of glass on impact.

Patton thought his heart might’ve done the same.

She began to laugh. High, strident, piercing cackles that made Patton’s head ring. Her shoulders shook with it, lips wrenching into a smile as sharp as a blade. A thunderous crash split through the air, followed by several more. Patton’s hands flew up to his mouth, and he watched in growing horror as more and more glass smashed against the floor — as potions spilled from cracked lids and metal boxes clanged and busted open. All that he’d worked for all these years, crushed beneath her heel.

“Your name, is it?” The Faerie growled, laughter twisting into a snarl. “So you’ve been scheming behind my back, in my own manor? Playing games?” Her voice dropped into something low and dangerous. “You’ll find I can play games too, darling—”

She stalked forward, eyes glinting silver.

“—It’s a lot scarier when you’re the pawn.”

Another glass crashed and shattered before him. The shards flew too close to his feet for comfort. Patton flinched and jerked away, chest heaving with shallow breaths. His vision swirled with fear, and he fought not to stumble.

“You were just hoping to scurry away like a little mouse, weren’t you?” She spat out the words with disgust and an edge of fury, as she backed Patton into a corner. The Faerie towered over him, casting him into shadow. “Very well — but I’m not letting that happen.”

Her hand slammed his shoulder against the wall. Pain struck him like a lightning bolt, and he didn’t manage to slip away before The Faerie leaned much closer, crowding Patton until she could whisper right into his ear.

“I made you, Patton Holloway,” she said, cold and unforgiving. Her magic sizzled around him like a brand. It wrapped ribbons around him, ones that would always land him right there — in her grasp. “If you need that reminder. There’s no repaying that.”

She pressed the heel of her palm harder into the divet between his shoulder blade and his collarbone. Patton hissed through his teeth.

“You gave me your name. And if I have anything to do with it, you will never have it back,” With one last shove, The Faerie backed away. She sent him one last glance as she walked off. “You are forbidden from leaving this manor. Clean this up. If I have to look at it for a second longer, there will be far worse coming your way.”

Patton listened in, perfectly motionless, as her footsteps echoed down the corridor and then slowly faded away. Blinking through his blurry vision, he slid down the wall and onto his knees, as slack as a rag doll tossed onto the floor. Something wriggled near his hip, inside his pouch, and then small paws planted themselves in the side of his thigh. Jaq.

…Jaq was trying to comfort him, weren't they?

The little mouse had to be just as frightened, after that display, and still, there they were.

Patton wished he could return that kindness, and yet, he couldn’t quite find the strength to move. It was as if strings, taut and thin enough to dig into his skin, pinned him into place. And he could struggle, he could writhe, but it wouldn’t set him loose. A thousand knots bound his limbs down — far too many for him to ever untie. It’d been silly of him to think he could. He’d been stuck ever since he’d set foot in Fairyland, even if he’d never wanted to believe it.

He tried. He tried to do things the way of the fae. Strike a deal, offer a bargain. He did everything right, and where was he now? Once again cowering for comfort next to that rickety, old staircase.

After taking a deep breath, Patton willed himself out of his daze and crawled forward, dodging past the scattering of broken things across the floor — with luck, no stray shard of glass caught onto his skin. Chewing on his lip, Patton reached inside the crawlspace and slipped his fingers under a familiar loose tile. Knocking it astray revealed a tiny cardboard box, wrapped by the cord of a glittering, enchanted necklace. Still hidden. Intact.

The only things Patton had left.

A sob tore through his throat — a miserable, wounded cry — and as he cradled the box close to his chest, Patton crumbled. All at once, grief barreled through him like a tidal wave. Tears he could not keep at bay dripped past the end of his nose, soaking his sleeves as he curled tighter into himself. He shut his eyes tightly.

For what might’ve been the first time in his life, Patton couldn’t find it in him to believe.

—♡—

What he hadn’t noticed, however, so lost in sorrow, was that a single teardrop had rolled down his cheek and past his jaw — and that, sparkling, it fell right atop the citrine pendant of his necklace.

And so the yellow jewel began to glimmer, low at first and then brighter and brighter, until the hollow space under the stairs had been bathed in a warm, comforting light. It outshone even the sunset glow that covered the corridor.

The steady click of a shepherd’s crook, sharp against the hardwood floor, echoed down the hallway, too faint for Patton to hear it. It grew a bit louder, until it abruptly stopped. By then, the light had simmered down completely, and Patton had yet to notice anything amiss. Until…

—♡—

“Are you under there, mhi-naistdh?”

That voice, honey-coated, soft, and so achingly familiar, knocked Patton out of his stupor. The spark of magic behind that name tugged at his heart. He lifted his head, blinking through tears, certain that his ears must’ve been playing a trick on him. When he turned around, it became clear that if it had been a trick, it involved much more than just his hearing.

A broom bobbed and danced its way across the floor, all on its own, as if tugged around by an invisible string. In wide motions, it swept the broken remains of Patton’s collection into a dustpan, cleaning it up… for him. Just outside the staircase, behind the broom, stood a pair of legs, dressed in sleek black trousers. The towering figure bent down to meet him, and Patton’s eyes drifted up to find the glow of emerald scales and bright yellow eyes, shadowed by the brim of a hat.

“Dee,” Patton whispered. After rubbing his eyes and wiping away the remaining wetness in his cheeks, he glanced up again, surprised to find the image had not at all budged. “I– I must be seeing things…”

He had to. It… it must’ve been his mind’s way of softening the blow. The thought wasn’t very comforting, but what other explanation did he have?

“It’s no daydream, I’m afraid,” drawled Deceit. Leaning his weight onto his shepherd’s crook, he stretched his hand for Patton to take. Hesitant, Patton obliged. “I can’t be that charming, can I?”

In one effortless, strong pull, he brought Patton to his feet. Warmth bled through Deceit’s yellow glove as he guided Patton away from the staircase, his touch firm and… undeniably real. Patton’s eyes widened, and he wrenched his hand away.

“Wh– Dee, what are you doing?” Patton hissed out. His shoulders tensed, more so when Deceit paid no mind to the warning in his voice — simply humming as he shooed the floating broom away from the hallway. Patton shoved down the urge to drag him away and hide him, fearful of the eyes that might catch the other there. He swallowed dry, adjusting his hold on the cardboard box still in his arms. “H-how did you get here?”

With a smirk pulling on his lips, Dee tipped his hat back. “You needed aid,” he said, with a shrug of his shoulders, “So here I am.”

“Just like that?” Patton asked, raising an eyebrow. Something tugged at his pant leg, followed soon after by a high-pitched squeak. Patton curved down to cup Jaq in his palm, and with a little scritch behind their ear for good measure, he placed them on his shoulder. “That doesn’t make any sense, you know that.”

“Good things often don’t, Cinders,” Dee mused, drumming his fingers against the heel of his shepherd’s crook. He turned back to Patton. “…But I do suppose you deserve an explanation.”

His eyes flitted around the corridor.

“Perhaps away from prying ears…,” Dee said, offering his arm. “What do you say?”

As soon as Patton grabbed Deceit’s elbow, the world swirled in a burst of color and light. Before he knew it, he’d stumbled out somewhere far off from the corridor, or anywhere inside the manor for that matter. Patton took a step back, taking in his surroundings with awe. Grass tickled his skin where his trouser hem didn’t quite reach his ankles. A faintly starry, still-darkening sky stretched out above him, and he could spot the porch only a few feet away.

Deceit had, in a single instant, brought them to the garden.

“Now how on earth did you do that?”

Deceit snapped his glove on his wrist, stretching out his fingers. “Trade secrets ought to be kept under wraps, don't you think?” When Patton leveled him with a stern look, he huffed out a laugh. “Alright, alright. Let’s just say, it so happens that my magic is at its strongest tonight,” Dee waved his hand around, “I’ve received a… boost, of sorts.”

“A boost?” Patton asked. Jaq wriggled on his shoulder, restless, and he petted their head to soothe them. “Why?”

Dee turned to him, and with a gentle hand, he brushed Patton’s hair away from his eyes. Patton leaned into his touch.

“So that I can finally help you, mhi-naistdh.”

His expression had been pulled into that bittersweet, pinched look, a furrow in his brow. Patton frowned. “…But you have helped me before,” he said, gently, “Tons of times, Dee.”

“Life has dealt you a truly terrible hand, little one. And still, from the sidelines, I’ve seen you grow into an outstanding young man. All the credit for that goes to you. I… I did what I could, kept you out of major trouble, but it has never been enough. But now, now you’ve called for me. Not with your words, but with your heart,” Dee pointed to Patton’s chest, with a smile as soft as a handmade quilt. “How cruel would I have to be to ignore my godson.”

Patton blinked. “Your… godson?”

“Yes,” Deceit said, “Mhi-naistdh, godchild. It’s a bit of a rough translation, but I find it works well enough.”

“Wait, so that means—” Patton said, his head reeling, “—that you’re my Fairy God…father? L-like in the stories?”

“If you wish to call it that,” Dee chuckled, “It means that I’ve taken it upon myself to look after you. I’ve taken you under my wing, so to speak. And that bond, that magic, it has granted me the power to bring a dream of yours to life — but only when you need it most. When the time is right and not a second earlier.”

“And… and that time is-”

“Tonight, yes,” Dee confirmed, resting his chin over the crown of his shepherd’s crook. He lowered his voice to a whisper, a hint of mischief in his yellow eyes. “I’ve heard through the grapevine they’re expecting you up there in the Royal Palace, isn’t that so?”

The memory of the torn sleeve, tossed carelessly on the floor, flashed in his mind. He shook his head.

“Oh, no, I couldn’t possibly, um—” Patton laughed, though it rang rather hollow, “—I don’t have an invitation, not anymore.”

“Well, that is easily solved, isn’t it?” Deceit hummed. He reached inside his heavy black cloak and slid something into Patton’s hand. “I’ve never been much of the partying type, if you’ll believe it.”

Patton unwrapped the parchment to reveal the royal crest stamped into golden wax right in the middle fold. He gaped. An invite, one that would work as well as any other.

“I-I still don’t have a way to get there,” he argued, more to tamp down the excitement that threatened to spark in his chest, than anything else. Patton slipped the invitation into his pocket. “I couldn’t get a ride on a carriage now.”

“You couldn’t?” Dee raised an eyebrow. He motioned his head to the side, toward the fenced plot where The Faerie grew her plants and flowers. “Do you see that vegetable patch over there?”

Confused, Patton nodded.

“That pumpkin in the middle looks enough like a carriage, wouldn’t you say?”

Patton opened his mouth to contest that claim, but it promptly clicked shut when the pumpkin in question, the biggest of the lot, creaked, loud enough for them to hear it, and rolled out of the vegetable patch. All by itself. The pumpkin simply skipped and hopped out of the white fence, using its leaves and stems as bouncy springs. Its orange shell glittered and then, in a spark of light, it burst — growing bigger and bigger. The stems stretched and curled around it, in the perfect shape of wheels. In less than a minute, the pumpkin had shifted into a sparkling blue carriage, unlike a pumpkin in everything but its silhouette.

He brought a hand to his lips. It seemed the sort of thing to come straight out of a fairy tale storybook! Moonlight sparkled in the carriage’s golden accents, joined by the silver glow of the small, crystal lamp that served as its guide light, so beautiful and bright it looked like a dream. It felt like a dream — but it was right there before his eyes. Patton couldn’t help but giggle, and it was as if all the enthusiasm he’d lost throughout the evening came rushing back to him in a flurry.

“Oh, oh that’s beautiful!”

“Well, it is my work, after all,” Dee circled around his shepherd’s crook, a smirk on his lips. “Now, there’s only one detail missing. How about we fix up your suit, hm?”

Patton nodded fervently, which earned him a chuckle from Deceit, who reached for the little box tucked under his arm. Patton let him take it.

“Although, if you don’t mind,” Dee said, as he unwrapped the necklace and handed the box back to Patton. “I’ll make a few… modifications — nothing that’d clash with your vision, of course.”

Closing his palm around the jewel, Deceit pressed it to his chest and his eyes began to glow. Now, Patton had never really understood the spells Dee muttered when casting a glamour, but he certainly recognized these were… different. Some words were familiar, yes, but others didn’t match any he’d ever heard! When Deceit was finished, he beckoned Patton closer, fixing the necklace over Patton’s neck and letting the citrine pendant settle against his throat.

“Dí laothani,” Dee said, tying the cord into a knot, and as soon as he uttered those words, what could only be described as pure, sparkling magic flooded Patton’s senses — unlike anything he’d felt with the glamour before. He gasped and stumbled back, vision filled with colorful sparks.

Ribbons of glowing, glittering light coiled around his body, and it was as if a million stars spun all around him. His skin tingled with the effect of the glamour, as it threaded its way across his features, casting the illusion of fae. Jaq squeaked next to him, and when he glanced over to them, they’d been lifted right off his shoulder, squirming as they floated in a bubble of magic. All that light shifted into swathes and swathes of fabric, weaving together and pinning into place. The light blue of his original suit had been tinged in a sheen of silver, shimmering. Lace and delicate crystal drops added the final touch to his collar and shoulders. When Patton stretched out his hand, a satin white glove crept up to his wrist, the same on the other side.

Patches of cloth floated up and skipped in circles around him, followed by a trail of string, and when he caught a proper glimpse, he recognized, in silver thread, his own embroidery. Stars, skies, flowers, and vines. They fastened to his torso, stitching together in panels to form his waistcoat. His bright blue sash, the one he’d been working on that day, tied itself around his waist. Perfectly tailored trousers draped over his legs and braided cords linked each crystal button of his coat. Patton clapped, unable to contain his delight, and in a swirl of motion his jacket stretched and fanned out behind him like a silver cape.

He spun, giggling and so, so happy it felt like he’d burst with joy — the train of his jacket danced right along with him, in a big show of sparkling magic. When his feet hit the ground again, his worn-down shoes transformed into white leather button boots, with low heels made of glass, which were surprisingly sturdy, too. A cravat wrapped around his neck, and Jaq was safely lowered back onto his shoulder. Patton twirled again, smiling so wide his cheeks ached.

“You look stunning, mhi-naistdh,” Deceit said, a fond look in his eyes as he leaned against his staff. “Just one more thing.”

He drew something from under his cloak, and carefully, he clipped it onto the lapel of Patton’s jacket. A long white feather, with a small blue jewel glued to its quill.

“A boutonniere,” Patton whispered. He tugged at the cuff of his sleeves, feeling the intricate lace under his fingertips. “This is like a dream come true.”

“Yes, but like all dreams, I’m afraid it cannot last forever,” Dee said, “I’ll only be able to hold this spell for a few hours — at the last stroke of midnight, it’ll begin to fade away. Not the fae glamour, but the rest of the illusion, including the one that’ll keep her eyes away from you, so be careful. Your necklace will glow when it’s time.”

“Alright,” Patton said, “I can deal with that, I think.”

“Wonderful,” Dee walked up behind him and began to nudge him in the carriage’s direction. Patton laughed, but let the other guide him to the door, “Well, go on, then! You don’t want to be too late, do you?”

Patton opened the door and stepped inside, glancing back at him. “You know, I can’t exactly drive myself there, Dee.”

“Hm. You’re right,” Deceit muttered, perking up when Jaq suddenly chirped. “What was that, little mouse?”

Patton snorted as he watched Dee cup a hand around his ear and lean closer to hear Jaq “speak”. Deceit hummed as if sincerely considering their contribution.

When he looked back at Patton, he smirked. “How do you feel about adding a little more magic to this evening, mhi-naistdh?”

Song of the chapter: Suffering by Amélie Farren

BONUS: Blue Jay by Sparkbird

#sanders sides #patton sanders #patton angst #janus sanders #sanders sides fic #royality #roman sanders #a wish your heart makes

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