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navibluebees · 2 years

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Pieces of a Soul - Chapter 4

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Warning for a little bit of blood and atonement.

After the announcement, we went back to the base, giving everyone time to think over and accept what was to come. Naomi felt a pang of pity for Jake. He was handling an unimaginable situation so well.

Over the next week, the Omaticaya came and set up dwellings, made a fire pit, brought everything they had. Some preferred to live a bit closer to the trees, but they were all near the gate. Naomi sat in the lab, flipping through one of Dr. Augstine’s old field notebooks. She read each note and tucked away each piece of information she could glean. The chair across from her was pulled out. Norm sat down, a worried look on his face. She shut the book; this was not a normal expression for him. He was usually off with his kids, smiling like he couldn’t get enough.

Over the time apart, Jake and Norm had met up regularly, resulting in Norm being around the clan more. This led to him becoming a father. Many children were war orphans now, and he’d bonded with a few who absolutely adored him.

“What’s wrong?” She asked.

He sighed deeply and said, “I’m worried about you. I want to help if you feel stuck or scared or whatever. I’m here for you.”

She pinched her lips together, trying not to cry. He reached for her hand and said, “I wonder if it’s time for you to use your Avatar.It’s been a while since you got here and now that things seem to be settling down, it might be a good opportunity for you. Plus, it’s pretty awesome to not need a mask when you go out,” he added with a dry chuckle.

Naomi looked toward the window and tried to cover her trembling mouth as a tear slipped out. Norm rose and came around, grasping her hands in his. “Hey, if you really aren’t ready, you don’t have to.”

“No, no I want to. I’m just so afraid. So much has happened and it’s a new thing and what if I don’t do it right and what if I make a bad Na’vi and -“ She stopped, feeling his hands squeezing her arms. She paused, taking a deep breath, struggling to claw her way out of the spiral.

“You are great. You know so many things about the environment and will have less limitations in an Avatar body. If you need to stop, it’s okay. I’ll be with you the whole time.”

Naomi sniffed and threw her arms around him, holding him tightly. In such a short time, he’d become so much like an older brother to her, even closer than her biological brother had been on Earth.

“I’ll do it.”

~~~

She slowly laid down in the pod. Her body was swarming with nerves like a hive of bees in her stomach. Norm held her hand tightly. “I’ll go in right away so I can be there when you wake up. See you on the other side.” He smiled and ran to his pod while Max started hers. The lid began to close and she shut her eyes hoping to drift off quickly.

Bright lights flashed in her eyes and someone was tapping on her face. Her eyes focused and she was startled to see Norm’s Avatar face hovering over hers. “A bit close, huh, Norm?”

He snorted and helped her sit up. Her extremities began to tingle as she gained feeling. She wiggled her fingers and toes, too afraid to look anywhere but at Norm. The medical staff checked her vitals and motor control. All too soon they said, “Alright, you’re good to stand.”

Naomi wobbled a bit as she rose, steadying herself with a hand on the bed. She turned and startled as she tapped an IV pole with her tail. She grabbed it and studied it, becoming giddy when it twitched from excitement. Someone spoke behind her and her ear swiveled. She gasped and reached up to feel the rounded edges of her newer, longer ears. She whirled and started toward the mirror, too curious to be afraid anymore. She grinned widely at herself, watching her fangs poke out more. When she looked higher, tears sprung to her eyes. She’d been so scared of this moment. So unsure of how she might feel. Her eyes were a bright green, reminding her of a peridot gemstone she’d seen in a textbook. Her bioluminescent spots, so faint in the light, were the pattern of her freckles on her human face. Even in this new body, she felt so much like herself.

She turned to go outside and toward the Avatar sleeping quarters to find her cot and new clothes. Norm followed after and showed her where her new body would rest. She was able to find a comfortable outfit of a soft, sleeveless shirt and shorts, being careful of her queue as she changed. Seeing the small tendrils of her nervous system made her gape in awe.

After she stepped out, Norm had some fruit ready for her. It was so much more enjoyable fresh and she breathed deeply, enjoying the peace of the moment. A whoop slipped out of her and she took off running, vowing she would never wear shoes again. Even without the bond, she felt so much more in this body, the soft Pandoran soil turning up under her feet.

She spun around, reeling, and locked eyes with a face outside of the fence. Keveya stood with a faint smile on his face, growing as she walked closer to the fence. Many of the clan preferred to live beside the Avatars rather than the machines. He had been patching up his tent and had paused at the noise.

He stood as she came closer, noting her joy and the flush across her cheeks. She paused, breathless, and took in his appearance in the daylight. He was tall as all Na’vi were. His loincloth a dark green, his knife strung across his body, a crystal handle outside of the sheath. His braids were pulled back off of his neck with a leather band, the beads sparkling among his hair.

She reached for her wrist to twist her bracelet as she had over the time she’d worn it. Not feeling it, she had a sense of panic before remembering it was on her other body in the pod.

“Uh … I can’t wear the bracelet in this body. Sorry.”

“Why do you apologize? You have done nothing wrong.”

She began to twist at the hem of her shirt, worried she might have upset him.

“I will make you another. Was it to your liking? Would you like something else?”

“No, no, I love it!”

“Do you want to come with me to gather the materials?”

“Oh, um, let me ask if I can go.”

Naomi turned and sprinted back to Norm to ask if she could explore with Keveya. Concerned, Norm asked, “Are you sure he’s the best person to be around?”

Naomi trembled as she held a pleading hand out to him. “Mìmuk said he is different. I want to know if that is true. I don’t want to be afraid anymore.”

With a firm nod, Norm handed her an ear piece and the connecting throat band, making her promise to call if she needed anything.

~~~

As she exited the gate, she began walking to the small group of tents, Keveya popping out from his as she got closer. He had a new pouch slung around his waist for gathering materials. He gestured toward the forest and turned to walk with her close behind. The storm of panic reared its beastly head and she reached for his arm, stopping him in his path.

“Why did you attack me?” Her voice came out small.

Weak, she thought.

Brave, he thought.

It was time. Keveya turned and breathed deeply. He paused. What words could heal this? He fell to his knees, desperately clutching the hand she had put on his arm. He pressed it to his forehead, slowly rocking on his heels. She sunk next to him, aware of eyes that watched them curiously. Her need to appease, to soothe, began to overwhelm and blind her senses but before she could speak, he cut her off. He looked at her deeply and she was snared in his amber eyes.

“I am so deeply sorry. When I saw you, I was engulfed with grief. Both of my parents were torn from me. My friends, neighbors, my home… When I saw you, you were just another human in a suit, here to destroy. To take. I am so ashamed I have caused you this pain. I have witnessed your kind heart. You were helpful and curious and I crushed you. I am so sorry and I wish to heal this hurt I have caused.”

Stunned, Naomi stared at him, unable to form words. She sat for a moment, struggling to comprehend the riot of emotions clashing inside her.

Worried by her silence, he looked up at her. When they locked eyes, she quivered. “I See You,” she whispered.

His face crumpled with sorrow and something akin to relief. His hand trembled as he reached for his knife. He unsheathed it swiftly and held it out to her in a supplicating gesture. Confused, she pulled away.

Bowing his head he said, “You must cut. As I did.”

Tears sprang to her eyes. “I can’t…”

“Please,” he begged. “It is atonement. It is our way.” He slowly extended his leg to her, resting the knife at his calf with the handle toward her. Her fingers shakily closed around it. He nodded at her. Her brain couldn’t forge even the simplest thought. She brought the knife down.

~~~

Keveya seemed lighter after Naomi cut his leg. She trembled and dropped the knife in the grass. He wiped her hand off with a cloth tucked into his pouch.

“What if your feelings overtake you like that again? I don’t want to get hurt again.”

He smiled softly at her and brushed a stray curl away from her face, tucking it behind her ear. “It is nothing you have to worry about, little one.”

He rose to walk toward his tent, shooing off her help. It was something he must do on his own. He fought the limp the whole way there.

Once it was wrapped, he went back to her, seeing her curled up on herself as she sat in the grass. She immediately hid her face before peeking out slightly at him. He gave her a lopsided smile before patting her hair and smoothing the flyaway curls. “Naomi, it is alright. It was my punishment to take. Let us go make you a new bracelet.”

He carefully helped her up, wrapping a hand around her arm to guide her. As they went into the forest, he held leaves aside for her, showing her through to a clearing full of fan lizards. She gasped and ran through, scattering them around as they spun away. On the other side of the brush, she could hear water. He camee up behind her and gestured for her to keep going.

“We come to the water to look for a stone or shell to make into beads for your bracelet. Wait, do you want something different?”

Naomi shook her head, “No, a bracelet is good. I like to twist it when I get nervous.”

He offered an understanding smile. They began to sift through the sand at the edge of the water with their fingers. “Wait, Keveya, how did you know my name?”

A bit shamefaced, he met her gaze and grimaced. “Neytiri made sure I did. My pain is my explanation, but it is no excuse-“

Hooves pounded through the forest. Keveya looked up at Naomi wide-eyed and snatched her up from the stream, hauling her out of the way up to a hollowed tree. Pa’li broke through the brush, hunters riding atop them. They paused after seeing him, then realized someone was behind him.

“Who have you got there?” One of the men snickered, teasing Keveya.

Keveya’s face grew hot, unsure what to say. Naomi placed a gentle hand on his arm, her touch feather-light. He turned to her still blocking her from view. She gave a small smile and stepped around him. The hunters were a bit unsettled seeing her Avatar form. One rode forward and dismounted, walking closer to the two. Tongue-tied, Naomi managed to get out that they were looking for materials for a bracelet.

The hunter smirked and looked down at her, still managing to be taller than her even in her Avatar form. Mìmuk glanced between the two of them, an unspoken question on her face. Her gaze was too intense to meet and Naomi ducked her head. “Little one. You have grown.”

#avatar 2009 #avatar fanfiction #avatar way of water #avatar 2 #avatar movie #james cameron #jake sully #neytiri

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starfaring-princelotor · 6 years

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To Break A Geode

Summary: Prince Lotor discovers how fickle emotions can really be between Allura and Reader.

Pairings: Lotor x Reader, Lotor x Allura

★ Disclaimer: I do not ship Lotura and I respectfully ask that this story to not be tagged as Lotura. This is a Lotor x Reader/Self-Insert OC story which is in no way related to Allura at all. Please be respectful of my chosen pairing. ★

Warnings: Jealousy, ambiguous friendships.

“Stay away from Lotor,” she said, “He can not be trusted.”

There was a condescending tone in Allura’s voice when she commanded the group to obey her order. One that you recognized when Keith was outed as being half-Galra. You didn’t like it, but the team came to an unanimous agreement anyways about the Prince. Bringing an arm up to rub your elbow, you glanced down at your feet in slight discomfort. One voice couldn’t win versus six, so against your personal judgement, you followed the crowd. Perhaps you were just...surprised with the sudden turn of events.

Given, you didn’t trust Lotor at all either, but it left a bad taste in your mouth to just treat him like a caged rat after he swooped in and saved everyone. Not just Voltron, but the coalition and Blades of Marmora as well. Then again, you knew how the Princess thinks. You knew how everyone in this room thinks. Weighing the good deeds versus the bad. That’s all this war really was, right? Fight evil with the universe’s strongest weapon to come out victorious for all subjugated free-kind.

Once everyone had filtered out of the room, sans Keith, you sent him a worried glance. Did he hear that same tone, too?

Knuckles softly rapped on the metal door, though you were sure the Princess could hear you over the hum of the Castle’s engine. The door slid open and Allura’s brows rose up in curiosity, to which you sheepishly waved at her. Those dual-toned eyes showed you everything: she was tired. Exhausted. Stressed. And she had every right to be in the middle of this abrupt change of plans. Her familiar gentle expression came back when you offered her a kind smile. The smile of a close friend.

“Come in, come in,” her room was, well, suited for a princess, “What are you doing up so late? I thought you humans loved to sleep?”

Allura sat on her bed, patting the plush blanket besides her, and you followed suit with a small laugh, “We do, but I just wanted to...well, Allura, about today, when you said - how are you holding up?”

Her smile faltered just a bit at your question.

“I mean, with everything. Are you...you’re alright? Earlier, you just seemed a bit…” you waved your hand in a circle, but Allura’s heavy sigh halted your words.

“I...” she started, face downcast in slight shame, “I suppose with Voltron almost being destroyed as well as all of our hard work - our months of planning only to fail - everything has been a little...taxing.”

“Hey, you and me both. And the team. Everyone was just way too tense. Made me a little nervous too, y’know? You could cut the air with...with a flaboxian knife. Flaboscian?”

Allura finally, finally cracked an honest smile at your joke. That wasn’t the right word, but she appreciated the way you were comforting her time of need with that horrendously, incorrect Altean accent. You were all friends on this ship and as such, you found ways to ease the Princess’ heart when her duties became too heavy on her shoulders. The Princess meant well, you know it. She was royalty, yes, but still maintained that positive outlook on life. Sometimes, she just needed a friend to show it to her once in a while.

“Here, c’mere,” you opened your arms, offering her a hug and she surprisingly accepted it without a fuss, “Just take a deep breath, alright? All this stress is gonna give you white hair.”

“I already have white hair.”

Another laugh, this time from the both of you. She pulled away with an appreciative smile gracing her face. Your hand rubbed up and down her arm, making sure she was fully relaxed. You noticed Coran do this for her several times and, once you asked her if it would help, she agreed to let you try during one of her more emotional and vulnerable moments. And, well, you’re damn glad she trusted you.

“...I suppose with Lotor here, on my ship, the stress keeps stacking up like that Tetrix game. Is that the one? The one with the blocks,” Allura asked and you grinned, happy she too was making light of the situation with lame references.

“Yeah, one of my favorites,” your eyes flicked to the side momentarily before you took a deep breath, “...Allura, about Lotor...I think we should - I’m going to talk to him.”

Instead of returning back to her order hours ago, she shook her head in disapproval, “I do not think that is a great idea. He’s cunning, a snake. You saw how he could take down Voltron just by himself. He has an ulterior motive and I don’t trust...”

You gently squeezed her arm, thumb rubbing little circles on her sleeve, “What? So we’re just gonna...keep him in there? Forever? ‘Till he passes out from boredom? C’mon, Allura.”

Her eyes swam with uncertainty, for your safety, for the team’s safety, for the universe’s safety.

“It’s your ship, your rules, but I really think if we gave him one chance…”

The catwalk to the cell wasn’t the hardest part. Neither was staring down the infamous Prince Lotor. No, the most difficult part of this whole situation was beginning a normal conversation with the exiled man before you. He had watched you the entire time, minding your every step, every sway of your arms, even the bounce of your hair. Since team Voltron had carted him off to this cell, he has had no one visit his prison. Well, that is, until now.

In fact, he had no idea who you were. The intel his generals gathered led him to believe you were a stow-away, some unfortunate refugee team Voltron took in out of their bleeding hearts. Nonetheless, Lotor did not like that he had no useful information about you. He stood to his full height, most definitely dwarfing your smaller self, but you only offered him an innocent smile and open heart.

“Hey, can I get you something while you’re there?”

He arched a sharp brow and narrowed his eyes suspiciously. Now, you squirmed uncomfortably and waved your hand in a loose motion.

“The..Paladins are busy at the moment, but I can bring you a, uh, book? A meal?” you tried again and, this time, a spark of curiosity flicked behind the Prince’s eyes, “C’mon, I’m not trying to interrogate you or nothing. I’ve been in your position before, I know how boring it gets in there.”

Well, if you wanted to play like that, then he supposed he would allow it. Just to pass the time, he reasoned. Your odd sense of kindness was refreshing after all the events that took place, but oh no, he would not admit that out loud. Lotor’s eyes softened, just a bit, just to give you a fake sense of security, then he sat himself back onto the marble sofa. Not the most comfortable spot, but prison is not meant to accommodate anyone’s wants.

“Yes, I suppose some company would be appreciated,” with every word he spoke, your smile grew, your trust grew, “You are an Earthling, correct?”

“Uh huh,” you plopped onto the floor in front of his cage, hummed then looked up, reconsidering your answer, “Well, I - sorta? I was abducted. Peacefully.”

Those two words did not go together in Lotor’s mind and it only made him want to ask more questions. It must have shown on his face for you chuckled lightly at how silly “abducted” and “peacefully” seemed to contradict each other. To him, it sounds like you willingly surrendered. Were you that foolish of a human? Lotor waited patiently for you to continue as your laughter died down, allowing a short silence between you two.

“It’s...a long story.” “Darling,” Lotor finally cracked a small smile, “I am not going anywhere.”

Your eyes lit up, “Alright, so, we have this endangered species on Earth called tigers...”

Lotor stood in front of your door, tall and regal and, strangely, wondering why he was here. He had his own personal agenda to do, his own plans he needed to follow, yet his feet led him to your room. And in his hands? A bowl of what Hunk called “chicken noodle soup.” Yes, a strange flu has been making its rounds around the castle, though it only seemed to be affecting humans. The Alteans and himself were considered lucky.

He knocked on the door and, once he heard a faint “Come in,” the entrance opened. There, laying under a thick comforter in the dimmed room, was you in all your sickly glory. Rosy nose and cheeks, sniffling with tissue scattered over your lap, and a holographic screen floating in front of you. A quick glance and he saw you were looking at pictures of tigers. Lotor tsked, eyes lowering in disapproval, but you only met his look with a bashful one of your own. Caught.

“You are supposed to be resting, are you not?” he stepped in, three large strides, then sat at the edge of your bed, “I believe it was Shiro’s orders.”

“But I am resting!” a flat, blank look from him, “Aw, c’mon...you gonna rat me out? Tattle on me? That’s pretty lame, Lot - Prince Lotor.”

“I will do it,” blunt and to the point, then Lotor offered you the tray, “Only if you do not finish your meal. Hunk said, and I quote, ‘The only thing that should be left is the spoon.’”

“Does he want me to eat the bowl too? Yeesh,” but you smiled and Lotor mirrored it unconsciously, “But, really, thanks for bringing it.”

Lotor gave you a nod and let you eat, his eyes wandering around your room. A Voltron poster signed by the crew, some odd plant, a showcase of what looked like gemstones and...rocks? Crystals? You saw his inquisitive gaze stick to the glass and, with a grunt to get his attention, you pointed at the display in excitement. If you didn’t have the bowl of very hot soup on your lap, he wouldn’t have doubted you’d jump up and get it yourself.

“You know what those are?” you motioned for him to get one and he did, bringing you one of the more larger rocks, “Here, I’ll show you. These are geodes. You got geodes on - ah, look, I’ll just demonstrate, okay?”

You were practically vibrating in your seat while you dug into your bedside drawer and took out a laser tool. The soup laid forgotten for now, but Lotor was intrigued by what he first thought was junk ore in your hand. It certainly looked like garbage, but judging by that knowing gleam in your eye, you were about to teach him a thing or two about geology. You pushed the tip of the laser pen close to the rock’s surface, just about ready to flick it on.

“Ooh, this is the best part,” you turned it on, a humming red glow cutting into the surface and Lotor’s pupils focused intently on it, “What do you think is gonna be in it? Quartz? Calcite? Maybe we’ll get lucky and find some opal!”

Your enthusiasm was contagious and Lotor was now waiting in...anticipation. Forget the food, forget your sickness, he wanted to know what was inside this rock. What has gotten you so riled up that you would even forgo your own meal and your own illness? Once the laser cut through all around the rock, you placed it on his hands, but all he did was...stare. What was he supposed to do with this?

“Now, you just crack it like you’re opening an egg,” you made the motion with your hand and Lotor followed suit.

The geode opened with little force and Prince Lotor actually flinched in surprise by the loud noise. He was definitely not expecting that, but when the shimmering crystal glimmered in the dull light of your room, he parted his lips in awe. It was so...purple. Deep, dark shades of wine slowly mixing into soft lavender greeted his eyes and he felt like he found a sacred treasure no one else had discovered before.

“Oooh,” your eyes widened at the mineral, “I was hoping for a cool gem. Balmera has so many different stones, much more different than Earth. But, hey, it’s amethyst! Wow, I haven’t seen one so opaque before.”

“Amethyst, you say?” he repeated while bringing it closer to his face, “It is quite...gorgeous.”

“Isn’t it? And there’s even more mysterious ones in those geodes,” you felt better, whether it was the soup or spending time with him, you weren’t sure, “Hey, why don’t you keep that one? It suits you.”

Both of you conveniently missed each other’s flushed cheeks.

Allura noticed. Her sharp eyes saw the way Lotor’s gaze would slowly drift to stare at you when everyone was in the same room. She could hear the soft inflection in his voice every time he answered one of your curious questions. She noticed how casually you two would sit close together and even go as far to playfully touch his shoulder or allow him to place his hand on the small of your back. You two were happy, but Allura was not. She was suspicious.

“- and he told me that the Galra have this thing called, uh, c...cnark…cnarktyqgw...” your hands paused in braiding her hair as you tried to remember how to pronounce the word, “Ah, well, I can’t say it, but apparently it’s a type of gem that changes colors depending on your mood. Isn’t that the coolest thing ever? I want one!”

Allura was worried about you. So happy, so care-free, so easily manipulated. Or, perhaps, she just didn’t want Lotor to take you away from her. She didn’t want you to get hurt. Who else would be here to offer comforting hugs when life became too overwhelming for her? Who else could possibly talk so freely to her like an actual friend? Who else will gossip childishly about how the latest fashion on Earth was simply horrendous? Allura felt you continue your braid, but you had gone quiet, whether because you were reminiscing about your time with Lotor or you were too focused in your handiwork.

“You two are getting awfully friendly,” there it was, that faintly concealed threat, but even you could hear the hint of concern.

“Well, yeah, we’re great...friends now,” your cheeks tinted at that, “I think I like him.”

And yet, when you said those words, Allura’s heart softened. You were genuinely delighted. Delusioned, perhaps, but happy. As your friend, was she not supposed to intervene? Protect you? Enforce her warnings even more? As your friend, was she not supposed to be just as cheerful for you? You, who supported her. Wasn’t it time she did the same? Allura decided that now was a good time to get to know Lotor more. Set some boundaries, so to speak.

“Is...that a bad thing?”

“Darling, a word, if you have time,” Lotor, ever the proper Prince, stood tall and serious in the observation deck.

You were sitting on the ground, knees pulled up to your chest and arms caged around you for self-comfort. Allura had told you their plan to turn him over to Zarkon in exchange for Pidge’s father. You knew why they agreed to do it. They cared so much for Pidge and her struggle to find her father. It was the emotional choice and, if you hadn’t met Lotor before, you weren’t sure if you would completely disagree with their decision. Now, though, things have changed. Your heart has changed.

“Y...Yeah?” your voice was shaky from crying and after you stood up, you hastily wiped at your tears before facing him.

Oh, Lotor was falling in love with you. When you looked up at him with wet eyes, openly distraught and vulnerable, his heart felt the urge to protect you. So, he did. He brought a hand up to gently thumb away your tears, but the touch only urged more to fall. Your frown deepened and he carefully brought you close in a tender hold. Instantly, your arms wound around his waist, clutching him in hopes to stop time itself.

You could not help but let one thought run through your mind: Did you not deserve happiness?

“If this is to be our last moment together, then may I kiss you, little star?”

May I give you a piece of my love should fate deny me another day to live?

You gave him your answer by nearly leaping up on him and meshing your lips with his.

“Emperor now, huh?”

“Are you surprised?”

You huffed at him and his cocky, little smirk, but holding him in your arms, you can not even begin to tell him how relieved you are he was alive. After the Kral Zera fiasco, leaving you worried and alone a second time, you had half the mind to bop him one right across the face. Instead, you cupped his jaw and released an exasperated sigh while his hand gently combed through your hair.

“I was...concerned, maybe,” you admitted to which his grin only widened even more, “Okay, I was very concerned. You came back all broken and bruised, what was I supposed to think? You fell down the stairs?”

Lotor chuckled at the irony, “Then allow me to alleviate your worries and repent for my past grievances. Would you care to join me for a walk through the garden?”

“As long as you tell me where you got each and every plant, then yes.”

He liked that about you. The never-ending thirst for knowledge. Though, while strolling through the thicket of his carefully laid out garden, he had to cut the tour short. The lab called him about a new discovery and, while you were happy he and Allura were working together now, it did make you a little sad he had to leave so suddenly. You knew nothing about this magic they were researching on, but regardless, you occupied your time with snooping around the ship. Perhaps find Lotor a small gift to drop on his bed, something to show you still appreciate all he has done for Voltron. For you.

Allura hadn’t meant to let him hold her hand any longer than necessary. In the heat of the moment, of her doubts when it came to the Altean knowledge hidden in her mind, she allowed Lotor to quell her thoughts. He was comforting, encouraging, and gave her all the right words to boost her confidence. Lotor was actually...friendly. Just like you. That was why you two stuck together like stars and space.

“I can not do this without you,” Lotor pleaded, eyes imploring for her help.

You were able to befriend him, and more. She took your advice with a grain of salt and decided to give him a chance, only because she knew it would make you proud. To see your close Altean friend flourish, forgive, accept that there are more to people than just what is on their skin, what their culture instigates. A small part of Allura was still clinging to the idea of Lotor somehow manipulating you. Lotor somehow manipulating her. She couldn’t let go of that, not when so much relied on her shoulders as both a Paladin and the last Princess of Altea.

Allura chewed on her bottom lip, still hesitant, but did not pull away from Lotor’s grip, “What must I do?”

Allura understood now. You were not weak for accepting him. You were strong. Brave.

Stupid. You were so fucking stupid.

Months passed and you saw Lotor less and less. Yes, there were some days Allura and Lotor allowed you to hover around them while they worked because, well, what are friends for? They spend time together, all three of you, and it was fun. It started out fine, enjoyable even. The three of you sharing different knowledge, different perspectives, different ideas. But there was something growing between Lotor and Allura. Something you refused to believe before your very own eyes.

Allura wouldn’t do that to you. Lotor wouldn’t do that to you. They were your friends.

The first stab was when you kissed him. After a long day of staying cooped up in the lab working on those revolutionary ships, you had asked him to join you for dinner. Some one on one bonding time. It was refreshing, listening to those stories about distant planets and how he once rode a beastly aquatic fish to escape near death. Laughing together, reprimanding him for such recklessness, then he would playfully remind you that he was the Emperor now, and you held no power here. Though, when you pressed your lips against his, you felt something different.

He hesitated.

The second stab was when you were spending quality time with Allura. Grooming her, braiding her hair, and just reveling in each other’s familiar presence like old times. Her hair was so soft, but she was so rough. You liked that about her. You liked listening to her talk excitedly about how plans were finally falling into place. Voltron joining the Galra Empire was stronger than ever and peace was finally seeming possible. Yes, you were proud, but your nose tickled in warning.

She smelled like him. She had his scent on her.

The killing thrust was happening now. Your hands went numb at the sight of them kissing each other, arms embracing in a gentle hold, one you knew all too well. Eyes closed with a lover’s blush dusting their cheeks, mind lost in each other’s passion. They were completely enamored in the lock and blind to everything around them. This was their moment and you weren’t in their thoughts at all. And just like that, you shut down. Your vision glazed over with that dark pit of emptiness and you felt nothing. Not the shake in your knees, not the quickening pace of your heart, not even the pain of knives stabbing into your back.

You were their friend. Weren’t you supposed to be happy for them?

They separated when the sound of rocks hit the metal floor. Those gifts seemed so useless now. Geodes, who would ever want them? Ugly on the outside, ugly on the inside. Were they speaking to you? Who called your name? You could see their lips move, see Allura’s eyes widen in surprise and growing realization. Then, you felt something hold onto your limp hand. Slowly, your empty gaze met his, met Lotor’s, and cosmic eyes you once found so beautiful in the dead of night now seemed completely strange to you. Foreign. Who was this man? And why did he hold no remorse, no guilt, behind those orbs of his?

Just slight concern, like there was a little green bug on your nose.

Your legs automatically pulled you back, out of Lotor’s grasp, and when the door slid close behind you, Lotor felt truly shocked.

Not because you left, but because for once in his life, he does not know what to do.

You were glad your body’s system shut down like that. It skipped over the pain, locked it away for later, and now in the quiet of your room, you were able to try and process your thoughts. Now you felt the sickening clench on your gut, now you felt the creeping discomfort claw into your arms. Now, you felt...alone. Your chest hurt, either beating too fast or beating too slow, and the tears, fuck, they just would not stop. No matter how hard you wiped them away, they just kept falling.

Then came the sobbing, the wailing, the choking and hiccups that stunted your breathing. The thoughts wouldn’t stop. You wanted to sleep, but it wouldn’t come, so all you could do was find a corner and cage yourself. Imprison yourself for now. You needed time and, thankfully, no one had yet to try and step into your comfort zone. And who would come, anyways? What would Allura say? What would Lotor say? What would YOU say? You did not want to say anything. You couldn’t say anything. Your voice did not matter.

Lost and alone wasn’t even the right words. You felt left behind and forgotten.

Lotor had been watching you for quite some time now. He wasn’t sure if you were aware of his presence, for when you looked up, sometimes he would see faint recognition flash behind your eyes. Then, sometimes, that haunting darkness would come back and you would recess deep to the corners of your mind. You would sob violently in one moment then go dead silent the next. These turns of emotions within you greatly disturbed his own confused feelings mixed in his chest. It left him feeling sick, as if there was some black acid in his throat deteriorating his insides.

You were docile now. Lotor cautiously grasped your hand and opened your palm, watching your every move to make sure he wasn’t overstepping your boundaries. Then, he placed an oval gemstone in your hand, watching the color switch from peridot green to pitch black. Your eyes glazed back to life, slowly blinking at whatever this was Prince Lotor decided to gift you. He said nothing, for there were no words that came to his silver tongue during this vulnerable moment between the both of you. With you watching, he traced the tip of his finger over the blackened stone. The heat left trails of bright violet in his wake.

It was so...beautiful.

#lotor x reader #jealousy?#honestly i have no idea #i do not write angst #i am not an angsty person #if the ending is vague #black = angst and depressed #peridot green = worried and hopeful #bright violet = love #spacestories

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harkanya · 3 years

Text

Saturday, Part One

Late Morning

Vyn did not awaken earlier than his usual 9AM, and for good reason. He would need to be well-rested for today’s visit. Lack of sleep led to lack of control through stress and exhaustion. He would present his immaculate self to Rosa as always.

He’d gathered the buckets, plant food, shears and other tools the night before and set them out on the back porch for easy access. The sky was a bright blue punctuated by cloud but was still in the grip of winter.

Just before stepping into his garage, Vyn gave her a call.

“Good morning, Dr. Richter!” she greeted him, voice sunny and pleasant. “I hope you slept well. I’m almost ready… I’m just trying to find a decent sweater.”

“I did, thank you, Rosa,” he replied, smiling inwardly. “If you do not have something you are willing to have snagged, we can stop by a clothing store on the way.”

She seemed shocked by the offer and quickly apologized. “Oh no, that’s too much trouble! Don’t worry, I found an old hoodie from college in the back of my closet. That ought to do, right?”

“Yes, that will be adequate, so long as it sufficiently protects you from the cold.”

“I should be fine! Besides, we’ll be moving around a lot, so it won’t be that cold.”

“Very well,” he murmured, his reply buttery smooth through the phone. Unbeknownst to Vyn, his velvety voice made her shiver. “I shall see you soon.”

—————

Rosa was packed and ready as soon as Vyn had arrived, opening the door and allowing him inside briefly. Her full grey hoodie was well-loved, fraying on the cuffs and was missing the drawstrings. Her peridot eyes were weary though she seemed no less worse for the wear.

She had a white plastic bucket on the kitchen counter and next to it was a small gift box wrapped in perfectly crisp emerald green paper. Next to the gift box was a book. Vyn stride into the kitchen and noted the book’s title as, “The Care and Maintenance of English Gardens”.

Vyn’s smile and softening golden eyes sent Rosa’s heart fluttering. She coughed and attempted to explain.

“I ordered the supplies after you agreed to let me help,” she said, turning away from him to conceal her blush. “And… and I didn’t want to inadvertently damage anything, so I’ve been trying to read as much as I can.”

“Rosa, your consideration is much appreciated. However, I have a concern.”

Whirling around, eyes wide in surprise, she asked, “Is there a problem, Dr. Richter?”

“Were you unable to rest, Rosa?”

Taking a moment to move to the couch, Vyn sat and raised his hand to her in silent beckoning. Without a thought, Rosa snatched up the gift box, followed and sat beside him. Her jeans were old and worn at the knees. She chewed her lip like a child reprimanded for theft of sweets.

“…I, well,” came her stammered response. “I just… my brain was moving so quickly. Mental voraciousness, I think you called it. I stayed up late reading from the book. And… then I realized that aside from roses, I’m not sure what other plants you have in the garden.”

Vyn tapped on the gift with a long, tapered finger. “And this?”

Rosa’s blush darkened. “Well, you see… I wanted to thank you somehow. You’re allowing me to help in the garden. I saw this and I knew I should get it for you.” She handed him the box and said, “You don’t have to open it now. It can wait.”

Vyn bowed his head to her in gratitude, hoping the gesture would distract her enough to conceal his open smile. “Thank you, Rosa. Your kindness and generosity continue to amaze me.”

Her embarrassed babbling confirmed that his truck worked, for when Vyn raised his head, Rosa had turned away to hide her face in her sleeves. “When you say it that way, it’s so unfair…”

Chuckling, he tucked the gift under his arm and stood, offering her a hand. “We should take our leave, lest we while away the time we could be spending in the garden.”

“Oh, yes, right.” Rosa huffed and smoothed out her hoodie, taking his hand to stand. “Dr. Richter?”

“Hmm?”

Taking the bucket from the counter, Rosa grinned. “Want to see my nifty shears?”

#tears of themis #marius von hagen #artem wing #luke pearce #vyn richter #mo yi #gift fic #this is getting longer than I expected

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carmensandiegosbitch · 3 years

Note

I saw in the tags of your pinned post, that you possibly write for Steven universe. I was wondering if you could write a piece where the Crystal Gems find another half gem/half human? I've tried writing it myself in the past, but could never get it the way I want it. If not, I understand.

Hope you have a great day! :-)

It had been months since Steven had left and things were going fine, despite Pearl’s never-ending worries of the things falling apart after his departure. Amethyst, Pearl and Garnet (or sometimes Ruby and Sapphire) had taught some of the other gems that had graduated to be teachers instead of them; so they could catch a break after the Spinel attack and Steven’s breakdowns that caused him to turn into that worm thing.

“Anyone who said gems don’t need to rest are so damn wrong.” Amethyst said, sipping the apple juice from a box. “Pearl what are you organizing this time? I thought this was supposed to be break time not ‘let’s redesign the house that is technically not ours’ time.” She continued as she stretched her neck to reach Pearl’s face. She was just worried for the poor Pearl who had been workaholic-likely teaching non-stop who didn’t seem to let go of that bad hobby of hers.

“I’m fine don’t worry… where’s Garn-” She was interrupted by Garnet storming into the house; like she had been running for hours. The other two gems gathered around her and both of them asked in sync: “MY STARS WHAT HAS HAPPENED?” She then gestured them to back away from her. They did as she said; “I just bumped into someone.” Amethyst raised a brow at her as she scratched the back of her head.

“Not a normal someone though.” That sentence made the heart they didn’t have drop. Pearl laughed nervously and said: “You probably ran into Steven… Oh wait he’s gone.” Then she went backwards to sit on the couch and continued: “Who was it? A gem? A human?” Garnet murmured something. Amethyst heard what she said and her eyes widened and she turned to Pearl; “She says she saw a gem-human… just like Steven.” “How is that possible? Garnet are you sure?” Garnet nodded at Pearl and said: “She also said she was the daughter of a diamond.”

While all of that was happening, a girl with short black straight hair walked through the little Homeworld as Lapis and Peridot saw her. The blue and green gem looked at her face. Her hair has blocked her forehead but they were sure there was a gem on it. “Is that… a diamond?” Peridot nearly screamed but Lapis covered her mouth and said: “Shhh! We’ve seen all the 4 diamond and none of them are… black.” The blue haired gem looked at her with focus, she turned to them and they hid behind the building. Peridot frowned at Lapis as she was still covering her mouth. She laughed awkwardly as she put her hand away. “Do you think we should tell Bismuth?” Lapis nodded as they took the way of going to her place, but they saw her in front of them.

“Guys have you seen that-” They shushed her and took her somewhere else; so they’d be sure the girl couldn’t hear them. After they told her that Peridot thinks she’s a half diamond like Steven, but younger Bismuth stayed silent for a few moments. “I mean it is possible. The diamonds kept a lot of secrets that even Pink herself never knew about. Any gem who realized about them would’ve been shattered so…” all three of them gazed at each other in fear.

The green colored gem elbowed Lapis and said: “Now I say I TOLD YOU SO LAZULI!” “Um excuse me…” the three gems froze as they heard the strange soft voice. They turned their heads to the voice to see the girl yet again as she continued: “Hi! I’m Sandra. Do you know where can I find Garnet?”

Sorry it took so long and sorry if it's not what you had in mind

#steven universe #steven universe future #su #suf #the crystal gems #su pearl #su amethyst #su garnet #su lapis #su peridot #su bismuth #pearlmethyst #lapidot #kinda #writing #my writing

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gender-i-hardly-know-er · 3 years

Text

your stitches are all out, but your scars are healing wrong - chapter 5

<<First...<Prev...Next>

AO3 link

warnings-awkward shit, gay pining, accidental misgendering, piss mention, swearing lmk if i should add anything else! <3

chapter and taglist under the cut

Alvara walked into the restaurant, trying to catch their breath. She was late, mostly because she’d been stressing over what to wear and how their makeup looked. They shouldn’t care, drac knew that. But a cool person wants to hang out with me! I can’t give that a shitty impression!

They were wearing a spiderweb patterned skirt and a purple corset-style top. Vamp’s mesh undershirt covered their arms down to the spiked bracelets around her wrists. Drac’s black lace-up combat boots added at least 4 inches to their already tall stature. They had been worried about towering over Athena, but it was kinda funny how short the scientist was. Alvara had done and redone her eyeliner at least 100 times before they decided it was good enough to wear to lunch. God, she was hopeless-

They looked around, hoping to see Athena and Hajime already at a table. They didn’t know what Hajime looked like, she didn’t have access to the elevator cameras, but she knew ne would be with Athena. When they were unsuccessful in their search, she opened up her phone and texted Athena to let moon know drac was here. Vamp got an immediate response telling her where to go, as if Athena had had that text prepared.

Alvara speed walked to the location she’d been given, not wanting to run and draw attention to themselves. Drac spotted the distinctive blue and orange ponytail of Athena popping out of a booth and slowed a bit, not wanting to be out of breath when vamp reached them. Was she overthinking this? Yes. Was she going to stop? No.

When she reached the booth, she was met with a small wave from Athena and a once over from who they assumed to be Hajime.

“So, you’re the famous Alvara? I’ve heard a lot about you. Not what I thought you’d look like,” Hajime said, raising an eyebrow. Alvara immediately broke eye contact, not sure what that was supposed to mean. Heard a lot about her? Like what? What did Athena say? What had Hajime thought they would look like? Was that a good or bad thing? There goes the overthinking again.

“Ahem-“ Athena drew Alvara’s attention away from their deliberations. “What my friend means to say is that you look wonderful, and I’ve told nem of our interactions thus far. All good things, I promise-“

“Wonderful things, dear. Athena speaks very highly of you-“ Hajime was cut off by a glare from the irritated woman across from him. Alvara fidgeted with their bracelets, surveying Hajime’s smirking face. Ne had dark skin with splotches of white (vitiligo? probably) and a black cloth patch over their left eye. Her right eye was light green, almost yellow, a shining shade of peridot. As Alvara looked at him, the already mounting jigsaw feeling grew; she was getting a bit lightheaded. She moved her gaze to Hajime’s hair, a green sort of bob-cut with sandy blonde bangs. He was pretty, Alvara couldn’t lie. Not her type, but definitely pretty.

“Well, um, I’m glad to hear it? Anyways, sorry for being late, I lost track of time,” Alvara chewed on her lip, hoping they weren’t too upset.

“Not a problem, don’t worry,” Athena reassured her, drawing Alvara’s gaze and patting the spot beside that. “Sit, sit. My apologies for the actions of my friend, ne means no ill will.”

Alvara took the seat next to the scientist, who was still wearing moon’s lab coat and name tag from work. “Thanks, dude, I know she’s just messin’ with me,” they rolled their eyes as they grabbed a menu. Her arm brushed with Athena’s and the puzzle piece feeling increased, pulsing between them like an electric shock. Drac saw Athena’s eyes widen, just slightly. Good to know this feels it too.

“Hi, y’all, I’m Theo, I’ll be your waiter today. Can I get you guys started off with some drinks?” A man (he had a pronoun pin under his nametag, he/him) with curly blonde hair and a blinding smile came up to them, tiny notebook in hand. His voice wavered at the end of his sentence; his eyes went blank, and his breath hitched. Alvara felt the pulling amplify, she could only assume Theo was feeling it too. Vamp glanced over at her two acquaintances, analyzing their expressions. Furrowed brows, wide eyes, a distinct discomfort she recognized all too well. She was pretty sure they all just had the same experience.

The man started slowly backing away from the booth, breaking into a run at the end of the aisle. Musta been too much for the guy.

“Soooo… are we gonna talk about that or-?” Alvara bit their bottom lip, wanting to ask if her compatriots had a similar sensation.

Luckily, Hajime beat drac to it. “Yeah, uh, he gave me the feeling. 'Thena?" Athena nodded in response.

“The puzzle piece feeling? Same,” Alvara confirmed, both of their companions’ faces contorting into bewildered stares. “Ya know, like a jigsaw puzzle? It feels like… like a greater force putting back together pieces of a whole. Like we’re supposed to be interlocked. Like puzzle pieces! Saying it out loud makes it sound dumb-”

“Holy shit- that never occurred to me. That’s so… profound. That’s exactly how it feels! Hajime and I always just referred to it as ‘the feeling’, or a ‘cosmic connection’ if we’re feeling whimsical,” Athena offered a small smile that made Alvara forget to breathe for a second.

"Huh, that is a good way of putting it. I was wondering if you were experiencing this as well, Alvara. That’s a big part of the reason Athena told me about you. It isn’t often that we come upon this ‘jigsaw feeling’. I mean, it’s happened quite a few times, but it’s by no means inconsequential,” Hajime started. “I remember having it with many people, but Athena’s the only one I ever got close with. If the universe is trying to pull us together, it’s doing a shit job.”

Athena chuckled at that, and Alvara could’ve fainted. Okay, maybe the puzzle-like feeling wasn’t the only reason drac wanted to see her. There was also the fact that they’d never met a more beautiful person in their life. Calm down, dude, you’re gonna blow it-

“ANYWAYS how’s, uh, that one guy? From the- from the thing yesterday, how’s he doing?” Alvara tried and failed to inconspicuously change the subject. Despite her visible confusion, Athena answered.

“I don’t know, Hajime, how is he?” She was smirking now, like she knew something Alvara didn’t.

“I don’t know, what would I know? We don’t talk regularly? I don’t even have thon’s phone number.” Hajime crossed ner arms defensively, diverting his gaze from Athena’s knowing eyes.

“I don’t know, dude, you were stuck in an elevator together! I thought you’d probably at least check-in, see if he’s doing okay. Geez, no need to freak out on me,” Alvara raised their hands in surrender. Touched a nerve there.

“Just talk to him, Hajime! He likes you, Hajime! You’re allowed to think people are pretty, Hajime!” Athena said, tone mocking, doing a pretty spot-on impression of the scowling person in front of moon. “You fucking hypocrite.”

“This is different-!”

“How the hELL IS THIS DIFFERENT?”

Alvara pondered their anger, not knowing quite why they were so agitated. “Hold on, I feel like I skipped an episode-”

“... after we met the first time, Hajime said those same things to me. I was losing my composure, and ne was making fun of me for it. I am simply returning the favor,” confirmed a straight-faced Athena.

“You ‘lost your composure’ when we met?” What was that supposed to mean?

“Because of the figurative ‘puzzle feeling’. I hadn’t had it with anyone but Hajime in a long while. Most of the occurrences I remember took place in my middle and high school years.” Oh. Of course. What else would it be? No other reasons, right?

“Thank the stars neither of you met me in middle school. I was, for lack of a better term, a mess.” Athena rolled her eyes.

“Oh, because high school you was so much better,” Hajime chuckled. “You were the biggest dork in the world,” they paused and considered this moment, “Actually, scratch that, still the biggest dork. I just love you more now.”

“Come on, Hajime! I was so much better in high school, middle school was pre-transition!” Athena looked genuinely offended, ready to defend that’s past self. “You should be thankful you never met me when I was still masculine-presenting, you would’ve hated me. I certainly did.” Her nose scrunched up with that last sentence, cringing.

“Same, middle school me was rough. Little ‘Vara was not happy with herself at all,” Alvara recounted, similarly disgusted by her former self. “I mean, neither was high school ‘Vara, but at least I had a name I actually liked.”

“It’s a lovely name, by the way. ‘Guardian of mankind’. A great choice, one I considered for myself, honestly,” Athena shot a smile at the baffled Alvara next to her. Alvara was thankful for the full coverage foundation concealing the red on their cheeks.

“Really? You could’ve been an Alvara? That doesn’t fit you at all,” Hajime seemed disturbed. Alvara couldn’t picture Athena with drac’s name either.

“No, it doesn’t, I just thought it was beautiful. Still do,” fuck, Athena, you can’t just say that and expect me to be able to form words for the next ten minutes. “I can’t keep myself from thinking of middle school. I can barely remember most of it, that’s the problem. There’s not much to remember. I barely spoke to anyone. The only person I recall liking is my eighth-grade lab partner, and I couldn't even tell you his name! He gave me that… ‘jigsaw’ feeling as well. I remember he once accidentally pushed the lever on the eyewash station as he walked by, and the water shot up to the ceiling. I don’t know why, but that’s the only vivid memory I have of middle school. It’s almost worrisome.”

Holy shit! I did that! I remember my lab partner laughing his ass off afterward. That was the only time I ever made him laugh. Wait- Alvara looked over to the woman beside her. Athena had their head in their hands, biting their fingers, but Alvara could still see moon’s eyes. Those bright, deep blues, shadowed by thick lashes. Eyes that could hold galaxies, eyes with so many thoughts zooming within them. Alvara wanted to know them all. Drac recognized those eyes.

“No fucking way. Astra?” Alvara watched recognition flash over Athena’s face as pix looked up to her.

“You’re- you’re Ward! Oh, stars, it’s been so long! Sorry, I didn’t recognize you, I didn’t mean to misgender you-” Athena’s nose got all scrunched up again, upset at their oversight.

“You’re good, dude, you didn’t know.” Alvara offered some awkward finger guns. “Okay, so I remember you, but Hajime doesn’t ring a bell.”

“Oh yeah, we met in high school. I don't think you had any classes together,” Athena’s brows furrowed into a thinking face.

“Hmmm, you do seem familiar, though,” Hajime narrowed ner eye. “Wait, yes. I’ve seen you before. You’re that one bitch that gave me the death stare across the cafeteria for like a week. I still don't know what I did to make you so angry.” Ne snickered.

“Ohhh yeah. I’d say sorry, but you probably did something to make me mad. “ Alvara smirked, watching Hajime scoff. “Anyways you did a good job last night, Athena. That one breathing exercise is really useful. I do it all the time.”

“I know, you taught it to me,” Athena responded, like this was common information.

“I did? Was that in middle school? I don't think I knew that one then.”

“No, remember? We were in your room, everyone was panicking? Patton was screaming about spiders? Yerkes-Dodson Curve? Is any of this familiar?” Athena looked at vamp like they were crazy.

“You literally never went to my house, I’ve never known a Patton, and I have no clue what a 'Yeeks-Dudeson Curve’ is. Are you feeling okay?” What the hell?

“I- I don’t know what- huh?” Athena seemed freaked out, like she didn’t know what she was talking about either. Pix started biting pixel’s fingers again.

“Hey, when do you think that server's coming back? I’m starving,” Hajime quickly changed the subject, not liking the vibe in the room.

“I mean, we felt the puzzle feeling with him, right?” Alvara looked to their compatriots, who nodded. “Then he probably did too. Three people at the same time must be too much. He’s probably overwhelmed, we might not see him for a while.”

“I guess. Still hungry, though.” Hajime crossed his arms, pouting.

~~~

Theo was in the employee bathroom, trying to breathe. He was dazed and kinda scared, if he was being honest.

What was that? Why do these random strangers seem so familiar? Why do I wanna hug all of them?

He took one last breath, looked in the mirror, and walked out the door. He had a job to do, and this weird thing wasn’t gonna ruin his shift, not if he had anything to do about it. He made his way over to the table, ready to try again.

“I’m so sorry, y’all, I didn't mean to run off like that.” He started. The people at the table waved him off, muttering little “don't worry”s and “you’re all good”s. He smiled, pucked up his notebook and pen, and took their drink orders, happy to get a fresh start.

~~~

Hybris looked over at Arthur, both of them still in costume from their day in the parade. They were meeting up for lunch with their childhood friend, ready to know more about thon’s life since they knew each other last. They’d agreed to meet at a restaurant in the Animal Kingdom Lodge. Arthur was rambling on about a little kid that’d asked to sing a little duet with him and gave him one of the stickers on his face. It could tell Arthur loved his job and the little kids he got to play with all day. He was pulled from these thoughts when he saw a waiter walking their way.

Oh shit, it’s that guy! It was the dude he worked with the other night, the one that made him clean up standard ceiling ketchup for some reason.

“Hey, it’s Papa Smurf! Remember meeeee?” Hybris waved at Theo, not sure where that nickname came from. Sometimes gore just said the first thing that came to his head and didn't question it. It made things more fun.

“Ohhh yeahhhhh, it’s you!” Theo replied with an obviously forced smile. Hybris thought it was funny how weird Theo was around them compared to other people. It wasn’t sure why, probably because of that one feeling. He looked over to Arthur, whose face was all scrunched up in confusion.

Everyone felt uncomfortable in the silence that followed, not knowing what to say. Attempting to fill it, Hybris decided to share a fun little fact he learned recently.

“Hey! Did you know that Buzz Aldrin is the first man to piss his pants on the moon?”

“I- Why would you say that?” Theo looked disgusted. Arthur, however, was giggling hysterically.

“Okaaaayyy, can I just get your drink orders?”

“Hmmm, Arthur’ll take piss.” Hybris was grinning now. “That was his nickname in elementary school. Isn’t that right, Pissy?” Both men were in stitches, trying to form words.

“Uhhh I’ll just take…” Arthur was catching his breath. “Lemonade?” Hybris broke down, falling out of his chair. Funniest shit ever.

Once he regained some level of composure, Hybris ordered a mixture of whatever fountain drinks the restaurant had. Theo left to put the order in, leaving the men to their gigglefest.

“Pissy, I missed you.”

“You too, Dukey.”

endnotes- hi! thanks for reading! im a really inexperienced writer, so feedback is appreciated. lmk your thoughts in the comments, if you want!

taglist

@simplestoryteller @whatishappeningrightnow @trash-bastard @anonymous-gremlin @azorii-tulip @will-wood-fan-01

#sanders sides #logan sanders #roman sanders #remus sanders #virgil sanders #patton sanders #intrulogical #loceit #analogical #roceit #eventually #janus sanders #your stitches are all out fic

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ibelongtowrath · 4 years

Note

I am so happy to meet another Satan lover such as I, if you dont mind i have an request where Satan and MC gets a kitten together and they raise it together, GN mc is appreciated, but ignore me if this is to weird :)))))) thanks love your work ❤❤❤💕💕💕

Thank you so much for the request! I hope you love it! I kind of focused a bit on their relationship, so I hope you don’t mind.

Adopting A Kitten With Satan - Satan x GN! Reader

Warnings: references to depression, so much fluff, do I even know how to write fluff?! Reader is gender neutral (no descriptors/pronouns), Satan refers to them as “kitten” a few times.

“You’re serious?!”

Satan laughs, loud and boisterous. He reaches a hand forward to cup your cheek before sliding a finger down the length of your face softly, a grin spreading across his handsome face as he watches your eyes widen in both surprise and disbelief.

“I’m serious,” he tells you. “We will visit the shelter tomorrow.”

You jump from where you’re perched on the bed, practically tackling the demon into a hug as you screech happily. He laughs once more, drinking in your elation, reveling in it. Strong arms wrap around you in a tight embrace, a tear falling from your eye to drip quietly on your cheek. Satan notices, softly stroking the expanse of your back with one hand, moving the other to caress a thumb across your face, catching the small drop on his skin. Lips press softly against the now slightly-wet spot, a reassuring touch, and your eyes close happily, eternally grateful.

“I didn’t think it would be possible to love another being as much as I love you,” Satan murmurs, “but this kitten is going to be a very close second.”

“Mm… what kind of kitten do you think will fall into our laps?” you ask, turning your head to look up at him, a shine in your eye.

Satan chuckles softly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before pulling you into his own lap and running his hands down the sides of your body. You press yourself against him, back to chest, the rhythmic serenity of his heartbeat kissing your skin.

“Hopefully, one that’s equally adorable as the one that’s in my lap right now,” he teases, pressing featherlight kisses into the back of your neck. “Of that, I’m sure. Though, that might be difficult to achieve...for the actual kitten, that is. Not my otherworldly beauty.”

The laughter that sounds from your beautifully soft lips fills the still quiet of Satan’s bedroom. It rings out like a wind chime in the soft, cool breeze of a summer day, the lilting notes being carried swiftly, drifting to your ears. Satan closes his eyes, reveling in it, relishing every last second until it fades, quietly praying he’ll get to hear it again soon.

“Satan…,” you say suddenly, turning your head to face him. “Thank you. I-... thank you. I’m so excited.”

I need this.

The words didn’t form, didn’t fall from your lips, but Satan knows exactly what you were going to say. He knows why you felt the need to cut them short, though he wishes you didn’t feel the need to hide your emotions.

“For once, you’ll have to thank Lucifer, not me... he finally agreed to lift the kitten ban,” Satan answers, kissing the top of your head and running his fingers through your hair, lightly scratching your scalp. “It was relatively easy...with a hard promise to not have a repeat of the last time, of course.”

“I’m surprised you managed to convince him, even so.” You tilt your head up to press a soft kiss to the underside of his chin. “I’m going to have to check your coat and every single pocket before we leave, though; otherwise I imagine I’m going to hear several suspicious meows coming from questionable places.”

The beautiful sound of your laughter rings out again. Satan squeezes you just a bit harder, burying his head into your hair. It’s a sound he wants to revel in as long as possible, wishing he could manipulate time, expand those beautiful few seconds just a bit longer. With a sharp inhale and another kiss to the top of your head, he pulls back, placing a few fingers under your chin to tilt your shining eyes towards his.

“A very tempting idea, my love,” Satan murmurs against your skin. “But having the privilege of loving and doting on two beautifully adorable and cunning kittens is far more than enough for me.”

A small smile plays on your lips as he gazes into you, lost in the beauty of love, of each other; the kind of look painters and photographers struggle to capture the sheer emotion of. It comes easy for him, for you. No, love is not always butterflies flitting nervously in your stomach, hearts pounding heavily behind chests. It is the comfort of a safe place in their embrace, the anchor holding you down when a storm surges the waters beneath your feet. A sense of overwhelming adoration and affection, knowing you are each other’s peace, serenity, home .

A few more moments pass and, reluctantly moving his eyes from yours, Satan lifts you off of his lap, placing you into the bed before climbing in next to you and wrapping an arm around you, pulling your head into his chest.

“Come now, darling,” he says, pulling the sheet over you. “Get some rest. I need that pretty little mind and those beautiful, enchanting eyes sharp for our big day tomorrow.”

“Okay,” you giggle, settling against him.

Satan’s heart beats gently through his chest and your eyelids flutter as you focus on the rhythmic lull, coaxing you to sleep. Soft kisses press into the top of your head, “I love you”-s murmured in a low, soothing voice against your skin. Your eyelids grow heavier, struggling to keep them open, barely managing to whisper a single “I love you, too” before succumbing to the sweet siren song of slumber.

He stays that way for a while, not quite willing yet to drift off. He’s content to simply hold you for a while, stroking your hair. Blue-green eyes study your peaceful features, the softest, most gentle snore sounding from your nose; he smiles softly, heart swelling with adoration, more and more with every beat.

Was it possible for a heart to burst from too much love? For once, Satan didn’t know the answer, and he didn’t care. If that was his fate, then a happy fate it would be indeed. Every day, it grows with the way you roll over in his bed, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, yawning a good morning greeting. It swells each time you smile, hearing every musical laugh, the flutter of your lashes and the way you blush when he tells you that you’re beautiful. His heart grows each and every day, beating for you, more than he ever thought was possible.

It breaks a little when you cry, face streaked in tears running down your cheeks. It shatters when he sees how helpless you feel, so fragile, so broken. How he wishes he could take the pain from you, seeing the way it bears down on you, the look in your eyes when it all becomes too much. He holds you until the teardrops dry on your face, eyes and cheeks swollen from crying, kissing each one away, until you fall asleep in his embrace, your safe place. His arms are your home, your peace, your serenity.

Amidst another struggle in your battle with an invisible enemy who wreaked its havoc on your mind, Satan’s heart breaks into a million pieces as he watches you endeavor, feeling helpless himself. And so, he ran to Lucifer, despite his own pride, pleading with him to relent on his ban. He knows it won’t instantly heal you, but damn, if he wouldn’t do everything in his power to make it known you are never alone, no matter what evil your mind speaks to you.

Unsure of exactly how much time has passed since you fell asleep, Satan feels his own eyelids grow heavy. Face buried in your hair, so soft, the weight of his lids like stones dragging them down over his eyes, murmuring one last “I love you” against the top of your head before succumbing to the sweetly dark embrace of sleep.

---------

Hearing the kittens before you can even see them, your hands clap excitedly as the shelter guide leads you and Satan into the room. Some sleep, not even stirring when your shriek of excitement echoes throughout, others playing and mewling sweetly, running up towards you and the volunteer. Some pad slowly from across the room, silently observing, hesitant.

Your eyes take them all in, an overwhelming excitement washing over you. Sinking slowly to your knees, you happily reach a hand out, scratching the nearest kitten to you gently behind the ears: orange and white stripes, sweetly meowing, purring so loudly his small body practically shakes with it. You pick him up and cradle him to your chest, looking up at Satan, eyes filled with adoration.

“I was worried about you leaving here with all the kittens hidden in your pockets,” you laugh, “but I think I should we should be more afraid of me doing that.”

There it is again, the musical chime of your laugh. Satan can’t help but to laugh with you, overcome with unbridled love as he reaches down and ruffles your hair gently. You beam a smile up at him before turning your attention back to the kittens, setting the one in your arms down next to you.

Suddenly, you feel the soft padding of a paw swat at your arm, and you laugh again, looking around to find the culprit. In your lap lays a beautiful black kitten, rich, fluffy coat shining in the light, eyes the color of peridot. Feeling your breath catch in your throat, the kitten presses himself to you, placing his paws on your face gently. The sound of his purrs fill your ears, his small body vibrating. Tears pool at the corners of your eyes as you pick him up, cradling him into your arms and pressing your face to his soft back, the soft rumble of his purring against your cheek. Turning your tear-filled eyes to shine up at Satan, you smile sheepishly up at the demon.

“Oh, Satan … can we take him home?” you plead, standing slowly, stroking the kitten’s soft fur. “Please?”

“You already know the answer to that, my darling,” Satan chuckles, scratching the little kitten behind his ears. “I’ve already signed the papers.”

Squeezing your eyes shut, tears filled with happiness and gratitude fall, trailing slowly down your cheek and onto the kitten’s fur. He opens his eyes, blinking slowly before settling back into your arms, happily purring away, as though he knows. Satan gently brushes your tears with a thumb, a loving gesture, before pulling you into his arms, kissing the top of your head. Like a little family . Smiling softly, you kiss the kitten’s head, offering him up to Satan. The demon takes the kitten into his arms, cooing at him, and your own heart swells with happiness and emotion and pure love.

“What should we name him?” you ask, wrapping your arms around Satan.

“Hmm…”

Satan debates a few moments, before smiling cheekily down at you.

"How about Luci?” he chuckles softly. “The perfect way to show our gratitude to my dear older brother, and annoy him at the same time.”

Your laugh rings out again, scooping the kitten into your arms from Satan’s embrace. The demon wraps his arms around you once more, kissing you deeply. His kiss feels like love, excitement, peace, tranquility, home .

“Come, kittens ,” Satan beckons with a wink. “Let’s get you to your forever home. There are plenty of kisses and cuddles to be had for the both of you.”

#obey me #obey me satan #satan obey me #obey me fluff #Satan shall we date #satan fluff #obey me fanfiction #obey me fandom #shall we date obey me #obey me shall we date #swd obey me #obey me!#obey me swd

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snorpy-fizzlebean · 3 years

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Pining

Amedot ficlet

We were doing ficlet exchanges on an amedot discord server. This is the first fic I’ve ever written other then roleplaying, so I hope it’s ok!

...

“Ngah!?” Peridot was deep in thought when Amethyst nudged her. She reminded herself of where she was - a bench outside the fry shop on the pier.

“Heh, sorry, I was just askin’ if you were ok, but ya didn’t respond.”

She blushed a little.

“Yeah... I was just.... thinking.” She sighed.

She hoped it wasn’t too obvious what, or who, she was thinking about. She imagined lacing her fingers together with the purple gem’s, before leaning forward and-

She snapped herself out of it, though Amethyst was now looking even more concerned. ‘Why do I feel this way and why does it suck so much!?’ Her mind screamed.

Amethyst gently placed her hand atop Peridot’s and leant forward... what?! What was she doing!?

“I’m worried ‘bout ya, Peri. You’ve been super distant recently.”

Oh.

Her brows furrowed as she looked into the green gem’s eyes, as if searching for something.

Peridot’s face burned dark green, “Yeah, I apologise. I have been extremely busy as of late.” She mumbled.

“Let’s go back to the barn. You’re probably pretty tired.” Amethyst smiled softly, standing up from the bench.

...

The sun had almost set by the time they got to the barn. Amethyst insisted on taking the scenic route and Peridot begrudgingly obliged. Together they watched as the golden light made the rows of sunflowers glow.

“Hey, Per, I found a copy of that one Christmas special of CPH at a thrift store! I know it’s July, but who gives a shit!” She called the green gem to the tv, which was still in the bed of the suspended truck. Over time they’d accumulated all sorts of colourful fluffy blankets and it was almost like sitting on a cloud.

Peridot climbed up to join her. Amethyst had already put the vhs in the old tv and was waiting for her with open arms. She couldn’t help but feel her nonexistent heart skip a beat when her companion settled down and leant against her sleepily. They began to watch the special, but the whole time Amethyst was trying to stop herself from blushing. Luckily the sun soon set and the moon rose in it’s place. She was surprised that Peridot wasn’t rambling about her favourite ships and when she looked down, she soon realised it was because she’d dozed off against her. Amethyst didn’t dare move, not that she wanted to anyways. She turned the TV off and joined her in sleep.

#steven universe #art #fanart #my art #su #fanfic #fan fiction #amedot #amethyst #peridot #pining #ficlet

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mikauzoran · 3 years

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Lukadrienette: A Bouquet of Second Chances: Chapter Two

Summary: After feeling like less than a partner to Ladybug for several years, Adrien gives up his ring, and Marinette returns to the past to help her younger self avoid a similar fate. Meanwhile, Luka tries to hold everything together until Adrien and Marinette can work things out in the present.

Read it on AO3: A Bouquet of Second Chances: Chapter Two

“Who the hell are you?!” Ladybug snapped a little less than eight hours later when the akuma struck.

“What did you do to Chat Noir?” she seethed, tightening the wire of her yoyo around the transformed Luka. “If you’ve hurt him, I’ll—”

“—Chanson?” he called softly, using his pet name for her. “It’s me.”

Her jaw dropped, and so did her hold on the yoyo.

“…Blue Bird?” she used her own pet name for Luka.

He grimaced. “I think I’m ‘Russian Blue’ at the moment.”

She sucked in a breath. “Blue…where’s my cat? Is he…?”

Horror and panic filled her expression.

Luka put up his hands in a placating gesture. “He’s safe. Don’t worry. He’s not injured.”

Not physically, anyway. He knew he was being a little misleading, but it was the closest to the truth that he could get before expecting her to go off and fight an akuma. She needed to be able to keep her head in the game.

“He’s dealing with some stuff, so I’m filling in for now. Sorry no one contacted you sooner. He just left Plagg with me early this morning.”

Ladybug nodded, processing. “Okay. All right. But he’s okay?”

“He’s safe,” Luka repeated, giving her what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

“You lied to me!” Marinette shrieked at Luka as he attempted to sink into her chaise longue.

“Technically, I left out certain details so that you could concentrate on the akuma and then immediately came clean as soon as the situation was resolved and it was safe to do so,” he muttered, knowing she wouldn’t appreciate the subtle difference.

“You said you were only filling in temporarily,” Marinette snapped, continuing to wear a hole in her carpet as she paced.

“I’m optimistic that this is temporary,” he stressed, trying to remember why he’d agreed to subject himself to this.

…Ah, yes. Because Adrien gave him a pleading look with those irresistible peridot eyes. Curse Luka’s weakness for pretty blondes with daddy issues and gorgeous smiles.

“I can’t believe you,” Marinette seethed, rounding on Luka. “How could you just let him give you his Miraculous?!”

“He seduced me!” Luka protested weakly in his own defence. “He looked at me with his pretty green eyes and asked me to help him. He was sitting on my bed and crying and saying how much he trusted me… Marinette, you know what a simp I am. What was I supposed to do?”

She sighed, coming over to sink to the floor by his feet and rest her head against his knee. “…Yeah. I know. I’m sorry for taking this out on you. I just… You should have told him no.”

Luka snorted as he gently began to massage Marinette’s scalp. “Please. I’m a total doormat when it comes to you and Adrien and Chat Noir. It’s one of my major flaws—I completely lack a spine when it comes to telling the people I love no. You guys could ask me to help you dispose of a body, and I’m terrified that I’d actually do it without a second thought because I’m incapable of saying no when my people need me. How should I have dealt with the man I love begging me to help him, Marinette?”

She flinched even as he kept rubbing calming circles on the top of her head. “…I know. I’m sorry. I’m being totally unfair.”

“It’s okay,” Luka sighed. “I know you’re upset.”

She shook her head, effectively nuzzling his knee. “That doesn’t make me treating you like this right. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…I shouldn’t have yelled. I’m sure you did everything you could to dissuade him.”

“It’s okay,” he repeated, hoping the calm, affectionate tone of his voice would soothe her.

“Blue Bird, it’s not okay for me to treat you like this,” she grumbled, frustrated not for the first time at how easily he absolved her.

He chuckled. “Another one of my fatal flaws. I’d forgive you anything.”

“Even if I stabbed a knife in your back?” she sulked.

“I’m sure you’d have your reasons,” he replied, fond smile never faltering.

She groaned. “I don’t deserve you.”

He shrugged. “I’m yours anyway.”

She wrapped her arms around his leg, hugging it to her chest as she pressed her head harder against his knee.

He kept stroking her hair and massaging her head.

She didn’t try to hide the tears as she asked, “How could he think I don’t need him?”

Luka’s smile tightened. “He has abusive parents. They’ve made him think he’s expendable…that he’s only good enough if he’s perfect.”

“I hate his parents,” she growled.

“He’ll be eighteen in April. I’m going to try to get him to move in with me. …Adrien too,” he added in case identities were still secret at that point and he needed to preserve Adrien’s cover. “Then maybe we can work on building them up a little more.”

“But what are we going to do now?” Her voice was frail, a hint of fear to it.

She sounded lost.

“Luka…I can’t do this without him. He’s my partner, even if he doesn’t feel like he’s my partner anymore. I need him,” she stressed.

“I know, Chanson,” Luka shushed gently. “Don’t worry. This is going to be temporary. We just have to ride this out.”

She pulled back to look up at him. “Can’t you take me to him? You know who he is. You could take me to him, and we could talk. I need to talk to him.”

Luka put his hands up defensively. “Not just yet.”

She dialed up the pleading in her eyes.

“He needs time, Marinette,” Luka pressed. “This needs to be his decision. He doesn’t get to make his own choices all that often. His situation is like Adrien’s…so you need to let this be his choice. Don’t take his agency away from him.”

She abruptly deflated. “…How long do you think we’ll have to ‘ride this out’?”

Dejectedly, she got up off the floor and moved to his lap.

He wrapped his arms around her, cradling her tenderly, nuzzling her cheek. “Give him a week to think things over and cool down. You know him. He makes rash decisions sometimes without thinking them through fully.”

“You said he said he’s been thinking about this for a few years now,” she objected.

“He also came to my place at three in the morning. He makes emotional decisions…but how he feels might change if we give him some time to reflect more calmly,” Luka reasoned. “He loves Plagg like family, and being Chat Noir is one of the few ways he can have freedom and exert some control over his situation. He’s probably going to regret giving up the ring.”

“He didn’t make this decision lightly,” she mumbled.

“No,” Luka confirmed. “He didn’t…so we need to respect his choice. Give it a week, and then I’ll check in with him, see if he wants to talk to you.”

“I don’t understand why he didn’t talk to me before,” she muttered bitterly, cringing at the pain of her partner’s abrupt disappearance. “If he’s been feeling this way for years…if I’ve been hurting him for so long… Why didn’t he talk to me? I could have…I don’t know. I don’t know if I could have fixed it or not, but maybe I could have done something that would have helped. I could have done something differently. I would have tried.”

Her voice dropped to the barest of whispers. “I would have done anything for him.”

Luka squeezed her tighter, gently rocking her from side to side. “Again, his family situation sucks. He’s used to being abused and neglected and told his feelings don’t matter. I don’t know if it’s necessarily something you did, so please don’t beat yourself up, Chanson.”

“Of course it was something I did,” she spat in frustration with herself. “He went to you, didn’t he? He trusted you, not me.”

Luka winced. “…Don’t take this the wrong way because I’m not taking a shot at you. I’m just trying to explain the situation, but this is going to sound bad.”

“Say it,” she sighed. “You can’t possibly hurt me any worse than I’ve already hurt myself by completely alienating my partner and making him feel like dirt.”

Luka took a deep breath. “I don’t keep secrets from him. About anything.”

She flinched.

“He knows he can ask me anything and I’ll answer honestly whether that’s what I’m thinking, what I’m scared of, about my sex life, my most embarrassing moments… I’m always an open book with him, so he knows he can come to me with anything.”

She wilted in his arms, drawing her knees in closer as she buried her face in his neck.

“He knows I’ll always be straight with him, so that’s why he trusts me.”

She gave a snort. “You haven’t been ‘straight’ with him a day in your life.”

Luka coughed out a laugh. “Yeah. Okay. Poor choice of words. I guess I should have said that he knows I’ll always be a bi disaster with him, so…”

He shook his head. “…It probably also helps that he knows he has me wrapped around his little finger, so…”

She raised her head, meeting his gaze with tired, watery eyes. “Speaking of which…Can we…?”

She bit her lip.

He tipped his head to the side and waited patiently.

She swallowed. “I’m hurting.”

He reached up to wipe the tear tracks from her cheeks with his thumb. “What can I do, Chanson? Tell me what you need.”

She sighed. “I hate taking advantage of you. You’re too good, Blue Bird.”

He shrugged and kept smiling. “Is it really taking advantage if I freely give you something?”

She shifted uneasily on his lap. “I don’t… It still doesn’t feel right.”

He gently lifted her chin with his finger. “Marinette, I understand that you guys aren’t ready to be in any kind of official relationship right now. I mean…Adrien and Chat Noir don’t even know how you feel about them, so…don’t worry about not being able to commit. Let’s just let our relationship be whatever it is.”

She pursed her lips.

A worried frown crumpled his brow. “Do you feel like I’m pressuring you to be with me? I mean, I know I tease about how I’m going to get you and Adrien and Chat Noir to marry me one of these days, but—”

“—No,” she cut him off with a shake of her head and a weary smile. “It’s not that. I don’t feel like you’re cornering me or anything. I…I want that…eventually. After Papillon when my life settles down and I don’t have to spend so much of my time and energy just making sure Paris sees another tomorrow.”

A soft smile settled back onto his lips as a warm, doting look came back into his eyes. “Okay. Good.”

She blew out a sigh. “I just feel like it’s wrong to make out with you when I’m not your girlfriend.”

“I see,” he purred. “That’s society’s values trying to make you feel bad about yourself for not conforming to its ways.”

“It’s working,” she grumbled.

“I think it’s more important to ask me how I feel about it,” he tried to convince her and ease her conscience. “…and I’m perfectly fine with you making out with me without you having to officially label yourself as my girlfriend.”

She sighed again.

“Marinette, do you want to make out?” he offered. “Is that what you need right now?”

“It’s not like you’d say no to me anyway,” she pouted as guilt welled up within her. “…But I need to feel not awful right now. I can’t risk getting akumatized and letting Papillon win. I’m being irresponsible.”

“You’re being human,” he corrected, coaxing her up to her feet. “Last time I checked, that’s allowed.”

She gave a weak chuckle as he took her by the hand and tugged her towards the ladder up to her loft.

“Come on. Let’s see if I can help you feel ‘not awful’. I think I can manage it.”

He gave her a wink that sent a jolt straight from her heart to the pit of her stomach.

Half an hour later, Marinette was curled up under the covers with Luka, resting her head on his chest as she drifted in and out of a blissful daze.

All of Luka’s hard work was nullified when a portal opened at the foot of her bed and Bunnix popped her head out, making Marinette scream.

Bunnix winced. “Sorry. Bad time?”

“If you knew it was a bad time, why did you choose to come now?” Marinette growled, sitting up and pushing loose strands of hair out of her face.

Bunnix shrugged. “Sorry. My powers aren’t always as precise as we’d like.”

“Hey, Alix.” Luka raised a hand in greeting. “What’s up? Timeline emergency?”

She nodded gravely. “Sorry. I just realized that this timeline was heading for a bad end. I think I’ve identified the point in time you need to return to to fix things.”

“Joy,” Marinette remarked flatly. “Let me…change into something more presentable and brush my hair.”

Luka looked to Bunnix as Marinette climbed down the ladder and set about getting ready. “Is this about Chat Noir?”

Bunnix nodded, looking like she was attending a funeral. “I underestimated the amount of damage certain events inflicted on their relationship. They can’t defeat Papillon like this. She needs to go back and talk to her younger self to straighten things out.”

Luka frowned. “But there’s no akuma to fight, is there? She won’t be using a Lucky Charm to repair things and merge the timelines, will she?”

“No akuma,” Bunnix confirmed. “The changes won’t fix the timeline you’re currently in.”

Luka gulped. “So…is this a dead timeline, then?”

Bunnix pursed her lips. “I’m not sure. I haven’t poked around enough to say for sure whether this timeline is completely unsalvageable. I just know where I have to drop Marinette to fix things to make the divergent timeline better.”

“So, I can fix things here once I get back from making sure that things don’t get so messed up in the other timeline,” Marinette declared with determination as she climbed back up into the loft.

Her eyes were like sparking flints. The fight was back in her.

She turned to Bunnix. “I’m ready to go.”

“I’m coming with you,” Luka informed, calling on Plagg to transform him.

Bunnix appeared skeptical.

Luka gave her a stern look. “She has to go it alone and fix things on her own too damn often. It’s not like I think she needs me or I think I’d be any help. I get that she’s got it covered… I just think that she deserves to have a little emotional support.”

Bunnix shrugged unconcernedly and made the portal opening a little wider to accommodate Luka’s broader shoulders.

Marinette smiled as she reached out and took Luka’s hand, giving it a grateful squeeze.

He shrugged, giving her the goofiest, most loving smile.

She transformed, and they went into the portal.

Bunnix made them close their eyes as they walked through the Burrow, shepherded along by Bunnix’s hands on their backs.

“You’re wrong, you know,” Ladybug whispered. “I do need you.”

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ji-yaaan · 4 years

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𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐲...

Yandere!Malleus x Reader Oneshot

Warnings: Mentions of death, blood, self harm, toxic relationships.

Note: Yandere time kids! \(óvò)/ time to debut as a yandere writer... Lolololol jk! But seriously, I think I enjoyed writing this too much- hmmmmm I don't know what to say anymore..... Anyways have fun reading ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Rain dripping down the skies. Heavens weeped their sorrows. Raindrops pitter-pattered on the glass windows, loneliness fills the room accompanied by a cold wind that gushed from the open windows. Ice cold raindrops hit your frozen face. How you wished to wail out your misery and despair...

Life is unfair...When was it fair? When you had the 5 seconds in which your escape from this endless nightmare was in the grasp of your hands? Freedom was in arm's reach, yet the so called freedom was a lie painted in sweet colorful rotten words.

"God... Is this a joke? Is this a test? Is this a Nightmare? Why have you forsaken me?" You questioned the heavens pouring down heavily. As if to mock you, a loud boom of thunder echoed up above, lightning lit up the dark grey skies for a brief moment...

Empty eyes filled with sorrows gazed up the heavens, unironically, the abyss stared back at their lifeless soul. You scoffed as the heavens ridicule you, a scornful laughter escaped your lips. Only to be interrupted by a loud creak of the wooden doors that rang across the room. "Hmmmmm? Y/N darling, what are you doing by the windows? See.... Look at you.... You're drenched and you might get sick..." A deep sigh escaped the fae's lips as his eyebrows furrowed from worry. "You really have a knack for getting people worried, my love..."

How disgusting "If you're really worried, you should've let me go by now..."

Is what you'd like to say, but why make it worse for yourself? Instead of a truthful answer, you simply stared at the man you loathed most... Malleus Draconia... The great man of The Valley of thorns... The infamous man who's part of the top 5 greatest mages... The powerful prince, who's heir to the throne... Just why must he stoop this low to abduct someone with the stupid excuse of true love?

A pair of peridot orbs that seemed to glow in the dark sent shivers down your spine. Those very orbs that stared straight down at you suffocating your chest. "I'm sorry..." You have to keep it together... You worked so hard to earn this man's trust and favor, you planned your way out of this mess... The show must go on The fae walked towards your direction, inching closer and closer. The air around you seemed suffocating as it became harder to breathe. The man you despised the most... the man you detested most... held your chin up to face him as he towered over your figure. Malleus brushed away a stray hair in your forehead. His peridot eyes that looked like gems allured you, they shone brightly despite the fact that both of you were surrounded by plain darkness. You felt small in his precence...

The fae held unto both of your cheeks as he placed a small gentle kiss atop your forehead. Almost af if it was done in a loving manner... He rested his forehead in yours, darting his gaze back unto yours. "I love you, my darling..." His eyes pierced your soul as a cold sweat ran through your spine. You were speechless, tongue was tied, no words escaped your lips. Growing paler by second, colors leaving your face. A shiver went down your spine as the dark fae held unto your neck, grasp tightening as moments pass. Your pulse and your heartbeat ringing in your ears, your brain was set in a frenzy as hands tightened around your neck. Caught up in a moment of hysteria, the lack of oxygen caused you to gasp for air, as you stared at the glowing pair of eyes inches above you. Your stomach churns, adrenaline rushed up your body. You forced yourself to say the words that left a disgusting taste in your mouth... "I love you too..." Your lips curved up forming a weak forced smile as a pair of lips devoured yours. A distinct taste of bitter sour berries spreads inside your mouth, like a deadly disease blooming in chaos...

Rays of warm sunlight lit the stagnant bedrooms. Buried in silken sheets and velvet pillows, cold fingers held you tightly in slumber. Like a nightmare that paralyzed your body, the fae embraced you closely, merley inches apart from one another. How you wished to wake up from this nightmare... Staring blankly at the ceiling, thousands of thoughts lingered on your mind. You wanted to disappear from this sick fate that bounded you to where you are. You closed your eyes, wishing when it opens, you're back in the safety and comfort of your real home.

Day after day, you struggled aimlessly under the grasp of the fae. You felt like life was taken away from your grasp, making you an empty shell of your former self. Smiles became meaningless. Laughter became dull. Your vision painted gre, colors began to burn out... The only thing that's bound to keep you breathing is the hatred you bore for the man you loathed. So you made yourself a show to put on. A mere act of rotten love, like a lovesick songbird chirping lies after lies. The fae believed the deceptive love you showed, drunk in his delusions. With each fables that escaped your lips, a nauseating taste lingers on you mouth.

Now you've come this far. You felt broken beyond repair. The once colorful life you've lived feels like a vivid dream you hopelessly graps on. No means of escape under clutch of the sickening man you despised. How ironic life can be.... Hope keeps us breathing, only to kill us at the end. But this time hope is not the only reason for you to be breathing. Seething hatred you bore against Malleus plagued your mind day and night. How you wished your hatred and insanity bore fruit...

Morning dew drops dripped from the lush leaves of the white rose petals. In the garden of the diasomnia halls, there you stood caught in a daze not knowing what to do. You sat down in the lonely table in the middle of the lonesome rose garden. White flowers adorned the scenery as you pick up your cup and took sip of your bitter tea. "How dull..." You flipped the pages of the worn out book in the midst of your fingers. You savor your sweet time indulging in your pseudo freedom while the fae is away.

In between the crumbling book you held, lies a small note stuck in between the pages. The note you've been reading for the past few weeks, contemplating on it's contents. A wicked smile plastered across your face as you peered unto the dagger that sat across the table. But your vision shifted to something far more interesting... The flask that accompanied the lone dagger. The flask with intricate designs and patterns that's bound to intrigue anyone. The very flask you stole from Malleus' study... "It's time..."

You took a last sip of the tea in your cup. The unpleasant taste still lingered in your mouth. You took the silver dagger beside the glass bottle, charmed by the metal adorned with dainty rose carvings. You sighed as you ponder on whether you're doing something right. "The right thing to do? What a joke..." A broken smile plagued your face as you look up the heavy skies threatening to pour at any moment.

The dagger in your hands pierced the smooth skin under your wrists. Scarlet hues dripped down your arms with each slash of the white metal. What a bore... None of this is painful... Has reality really became dull for you to be this numb to not even feel pain? How disappointing for yourself. Are you even human at this point? Oh right... You died once upon a time when you kissed the man you despised.

As the sunset melted in the dark grey skies, raindrops dripped from the heavens yet again. You felt like time was running out pointing the dagger in your chest. Metal prickling your collarbone, blood spilt unto your dress. A stab across the chest as sweet vermilion ichor gushed from your torso, staining your fingers bright scarlet red. The metal dug deeper under your flesh, followed by a wail escaping your lips.

"What are you doing!" An ear piercing scream echoed in between the thunders and rain. Malleus raced towards your direction with raging fury evident in his eyes. burning peridot orbs devoured your vision as the fae loomed over your figure. Crouching unto the muddy ground, Malleus asked again "What do you think you're doing?" Possessive chartreuse eyes piercing you deeper than the metal in your chest. A scoff left your mouth as a loathsome grin surfaced your face, a sneer ridiculing the fae before you. A moment of silence passed, but the fae's fury began to grow more with each passing second. Green flames devoured the rose gardens. The very flames that suffocated you. "You're a monster" you said under your breath as a mocking grin graced your lips.

"Then make me the monster that will forever be your nightmare my love..." The fae pulled the dagger out your chest as more blood gushed and pooled under you. "How foolish humans can be... Didn't I tell you? no matter what you do, you cannot escape from me. Even if you ran away to another world.. I’d find you wherever you’ll go. Now let’s stop this twisted game we’re playing before I change my mind." Green flames engulfed your figure for a brief moment. "ARGHHH!" A weep escaped your lips as you felt the pain from the flames burning the life out of you. The cuts in your wrists and your supposedly wounded chest is nowhere to be seen. Like a vivid dream that never happened.

You looked at your pathetic state sitting down in the muddy grass as malleus hend unto your arms. Pools of red blood stained your white dress. The rain wailing as the thunders roared in the distance. Green flames engulfing the rose bushes despite the raindrops pouring. You stared at the dagger in your lap that stabbed your flesh, yet the supposedly wounded places are smooth and flawless. No sign of scar or wound to be seen. Nothing...

You stared at the man before you. Towering over your figure, Malleus put a hand on your cheeks as he dries off the droplets that hit your face. Peridot eyes stared down at you. The anger and disappointment still present in his eyes as green flames swallowed the gardens. Oddly enough, this moment you felt nothing, just an empty void inside you, no means of escaping this nightmare. Nothing... Absolutely nothing... No fear, No remorse, No hatred, No Love.

"You cannot escape me, my darling. No one in this twisted world will love you as much as I do. I am your one true love and I hope you won’t forget that..." Threats that are masked by sweet sugary words like cheap rotten candies... How disgusting... "Are you sure about that My Love??" Mocking the fae with your words, you inched closer to close the gap that seperated the both of you. Lips mingled with each other, but instead of a sweet reaction from an innocent kiss, The fae violently reacted as he pulled away grabbing unto both your wrists.

"What did you drink?" Burning eyes that gleamed fury and anger... What a sight to see... The taste of bitter tea mixed with rotting flavors still lingered in your mouth. A wicked smile plastered across your face, you replied "I wonder what it was?" Sharp nails dug under your flesh. Scarlet liquids dripped across your arms. Eyes burning with rage stared down at you. Green flames that glowed surrounded the both of you. Booming thunders echoed up the sky. Loud raindrops hitting the grounds grew louder.

You reached for your pocket to hold out the note you were reading for weeks now. "Eternal slumber" 2 words made the great Malleus Draconia insane. 2 words that destroyed the pseudo world the both of you lived in. 2 words that set aflame to both of your twisted worlds.. 2 words that will set you free from this joke you call life.... Freedom tastes sweet.

"You’re not allowed to leave me... what have you done? Don't do this to me... stop joking around... Y/n you love me right" Eyes brewing with insanity darted their gaze unto you. The man drowning in delusion was drunken in madness. Pale hands made their way to your neck, ice cold fingers gripped your skin as black nails dug your flesh. "Even if I have to use every spell, every magic, I'll make sure to make you wake up and punish you. y/n you won’t escape from me." Tears fell from the fae's face as madness devoured both of your souls. Hands that gripped your neck tightly shook. As Malleus let's go of you. The fae embraced you rigidly, burying his face in the crook of your neck. A weep escapes his lips "Y/n dont leave me..." salty tears trickled down your neck. Alas, you cannot savor this victory for long.

A mocking grin graced your face for one last time. The sky seemed to settle down, but the flames burned brighter. Triumph....this was your sweet triumph... It's funny how you won but now you've lost so much. In fact, you've lost everything now, even yourself.....how sad.... Your eyes began to grown heavy, you simply felt tired. "Goodnight." Your eyes closed shut, never to open again. Unless with a kiss of true love, eternal slumber shall devour you.

The End....

HGNNNNN MALLEUS WAS THE EASIEST TO BULLY OK!? I wanted to do vil, but I'm sweating too much, I can't even think of a concept🤦🤦 oh wait I actually have one..... But that's for another day( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Hope y'all enjoyed this low quality yandere time!🥺🥺🥺🥺

Tagging: @ghostiebabey u said tag u if I make yandere content..... Shame on me for this😔✊

#twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #twst #malleus draconia #disney twst #twst fanfic #malleus draconia x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland malleus #twst malleus #twst imagines

341 notes · View notes

inkburnt · 3 years

Note

falling asleep, as their head is resting on their lover’s lap, who’s running their fingers through their hair, caressing their cheeks and i do not care who does what because yes yes yes yes

Prompt response // A rough going gives V an opportunity to take care of Garrett, even if it isn’t really necessary (and he gets a little carried away with it).

DEVIL MAY CRY // Mature // Words: 9,328 Characters: V, Garrett (male OC belonging to @featherburnt) Relationship: V/Garrett Warnings/tags: Canon-typical violence, language, injury, suggestive themes, fluff Ship/series: Love and Harmony Combine

As V could not find any conveniently bottled water within a mile's radius, he'd have to make do with a plastic pail he'd found rolling aimlessly around the street, directed by the wind, and a broken tap from which water flowed freely. He would fill the pail with water as Griffon collected whatever clean towels he could find from within a crumbling barbershop. These might have been unnecessary and V was only wasting his time and effort for nothing, but his heart told him it was right and there was little else he would listen to when it involved Garrett, even Garrett. Thoughts inevitably strayed to him while green eyes vacantly watched the pail fill. He'd nearly gotten it full to the brim when Griffon's voice broke him out of his reverie. V swiftly pulled the pail away from the tap, wishing he'd done so with both hands instead of one: too much water, the pail weighed and swayed with the sloshing of its contents. He turned expectantly to Griffon, pretending that he hadn't slipped up just now.

“Here.” The hellion surrendered his loot when talons dropped precious few towels into an open palm. “Those are all the clean rags I could find. Clean-looking, anyway.” When he came to settle on the cracked floor beside his master's legs, he threw critical golden eyes up at a countenance that was busy looking over the shop's towels. “Again, what're we doing this scavenging for? Garrett heals faster than a bruised ego. He's probably already all fixed up while we're standing here pretending to play nurse.”

“Even a bruised ego heals fastest on the surface.” V's eyes did not for one moment stray to his friend. Rather, he rolled up the towels together as neatly as he could and held them out at chest level. A cue for Griffon to snatch them, which he'd quietly followed. He took the bundle in one foot, hovering now in front of V with a steady beat of wings. V handed him his cane next, which Griffon rather balked at.

“How d'ya expect me to carry that with one foot?! You know I gotta balance myself with two!”

“I have to carry the water.”

“I'd rather carry the water.”

“But you couldn't,” V said teasingly, lips curving to match those of a guileful thief. Peridots were sharp beneath lazy lids. “You're liable to dump the water as you go. You've very little equilibrium with heavy things.”

“I bet I can handle it just fine if you'd empty it some more!” the raptor argued, irritated, challenged. “You don't do any better with weight, Twiggy! Besides, I gotta carry you like—!”

With V's palm raised between them, Griffon was silenced. Complaints were heard deep in his throat, however. “Let's not dally. Garrett's still waiting.” And he'll worry, if he isn't already. V picked up the pail with one hand, his cane remaining in the other, and though the weight of the thing threatened to throw him off balance...

Actually, he dumped some of the water after all. Garrett wouldn't need so much. A bigger puddle pooled on the floor, flowing out onto the street. With the pail now half full it was easier for the stick-thin warlock to handle.

“Hey! That's what I call cheating!”

“Just take the bloody towels,” V sighed, and he left the barbershop to return to his mate, familiar in tow. He carried both pail and cane, each in its respective hand, as he walked back down the lonely road that brought him hither. The water was cool when he'd dipped his hand under the faucet, and he hoped it would so remain after walking beneath a summer sun. Garrett was by all accounts a hot demon. He would appreciate a touch of cool. As far as V had been able to gather, the wolf had only suffered cuts, slashes and burns, and though such injuries were in themselves minor, superficial, and Garrett had a great resilience to him, V had gathered also that his beloved was spent enough to seek a reprieve and sit himself down in the shadow of an office building. The poor thing looked worn down. V was not convinced by his entreaty to leave well alone. Still wasn't.

Remembering that he'd seen blood on his body only hastened the man on.

Distant were the eyes again, on the road but staring into something hidden from all sight but his own. He thought it was cruel of him to find some opportunity in this, that he may serve as he is so often served; to tend to injuries and clean up evidence of them, even when it was apparent to all, even Griffon, that Garrett had sustained little in the way damage. He would be fine, and V knew it, and he knew he didn't have to fetch water and clean towels to make it so—but he wanted to, he wanted to pore over his mate, give him every last attention in the face of redundancy. He took pleasure in lavishing that man with love, and here life had given him an excuse for it, tenuous though it was. And maybe—no, certainly, V enjoyed the look on his face when he was suddenly overcome, and suddenly rosy-cheeked, and suddenly stupid and clumsy when he hadn't known how to respond. Silly boy. V was smiling unbeknownst to himself.

“What's gotten you so happy?” Griffon's eagle eyes had undoubtedly caught it.

“Hm?”

“You're smiling, V. And I got a pretty good guess at what's doing that.” He'd made his fourth fly-by round his master, circling widely solely to keep within his presence. “You're thinking about that bloody, sweaty mess that's waitin' for you.”

“What I think about is my business.”

“And your business is our business. It's been fifteen years and I still gotta remind you?”

V thought it was all very funny. He had nothing less than a smile for his response. It was true enough that Griffon had known V to a point where he could safely make guesses about what thoughts or feelings possessed the human, but he hadn't been any mind reader. The privacy of V's thoughts was still very much his, and he was thankful that none could really pry into his psyche save, perhaps, Nightmare. He had little to hide when it came to Garrett, anyway. He couldn't be embarrassed about his feelings anymore, not when he pledged his devotion to him and wore another ring to prove it. But the shadows stretched long where the sun could not reach, the desolate streets alive only with echoes, and V's footsteps were among them. He'd nearly forgotten about the pail in his hand, but Griffon wasn't the sort to leave a space of time to silence. “Is it normal for humans to carry on the way you do?”

“What's that supposed to mean?” V's eyes had finally fixed on his flying friend.

The raptor paused to hover in V's path. “Acting like you're not married after you get married.”

V smirked with far less amusement to his air, his eyes half-lidded with disinterest. “I thought it was something like that.” Dismissively, he stepped around the demon to continue onwards. It was almost unbelievable how Griffon didn't appear to tire of playing some antagonistic role when the topic of V's relationship would come up. Maybe that was protectiveness on the part of his familiars. V would always believe that. The office building he'd wanted to reach was near, closing with every foot conquered on his walk.

He also believed there was a lot of bluster to it. Griffon liked Garrett. V had seen plenty of evidence to prove that. There wasn't a doubt or a fear in him of a collapse in relations, and it was as annoying as it was cute that Griffon would put up appearances and harass his fellow demon for no legitimate reason apart from the principle: Griffon “didn't like” anyone but V. Such a sentimental bird.

“Hey, it's a serious question!” his familiar griped behind him. He caught up to press his point. “You're always thinking about him like you're still pining for him. What's up with that?”

That did sound like a serious question; and one sincere, more importantly. It brought a smile to dry lips and fondness to eyes that returned to their distant dream world. “I love him, that's all. I suppose...when you love the way I do, you can't help but want your dearest with you all the time. You...want to give them all of your attention, every last thought and affection. That's how I feel.”

“I still don't get it,” the demon was blunt to admit. “But that sounds pretty obsessive to me, if you don't mind my saying.”

V's laugh came through a soft breath. “That sounds like obsession? Maybe, maybe it is. I don't have a single problem with that.” There were worse things to be obsessed over. His mood was good but made better as he talked, thought, imagined. He thought his fondness made him warm and that's when he picked up the pace. When Griffon imparted a word of caution, V brushed it entirely off. “Where's the crime in thinking of my husband?” he wondered aloud, closing his end of the conversation with a little food for thought. Of course he still had Garrett on his mind, right now, and before long he'd have that demon in his sights.

With some little direction the raptor was sent speeding to Garrett's side ahead of his master. V rounded the car park of the office building on his own, never without the watchful attention of his Shadow or golem. The moment he'd spent alone afforded him a spot of reflection, a good handful of minutes that it took the warlock to close the distance between himself and his goal, but it was quite fleeting when before his eyes he spied the unmistakable figure of his mate in full human semblance standing unfazed, walking toward V with a blue devil squawking irritably behind him. That man had agreed to stay put.

Griffon's voice was loud as he complained of disobedience—and of his foot cramping. He circled Garrett like a fly, the beat of his wings gently disturbing the garments on his person. V could not in all honesty say that he was surprised; but his brow climbed softly anyway, and he slowed to a halt when his mate had caught up to him. Both, now, drenched in shadow, but V's eyes were sharp to spot flecks of gore on Garrett's clothes, and...on his face, which were also noted to have been rubbed at. Ha.

“I told you to wait for me,” he reminded without a shred of discipline to his tone. When his mate argued that he was worried about V, the pale little sorcerer gave him a shake of his head. Ha-ha!

“I told him to stay put, but he shot straight up when he saw me! Bastard's dense as—”

V's cane silenced the demon the instant it was lifted into the air. His eyes glanced between the two poised before him; but ultimately, they would settle on Garrett, and so would his arm come down. “Do you see any need to be worried? I'm in one miserable piece,” he said jokingly, allowing Garrett to scrutinize him if he really must. “Sit back down, love. Your injuries will not tend to themselves.”

“I'm fine. Flesh wounds, nothing more,” said the most fastidious of the pair, but V could tell it was all for his comfort. As reassuring as it was to see Garrett well enough to stand, healed after all, V would not be having more of it.

He put his load down and, with his hand freed, pressed his palm to Garrett's forehead to feel his temperature. Warm—but that could have been normal. V couldn't tell the difference here. That was a shameful failing on his part, but he needn't expound on his limitations. He was mild when he decided to brush that stubborn strand of hair over Garrett's brow aside, but it simply wouldn't obey. His fingers would brush regardless, and they were gentle and lost in the affection they'd wound up giving. Briefly, pairs of eyes struck one another with fondness. There was nothing either man or devil would say.

Griffon, however, had had enough. “I'm sitting the fuck down.” The towels were released from his grasp over the side of the pail and he roosted on the fracturing asphalt. He may have been careless enough to let a towel slip wholly into the water. To the warlock and his mate, he may as well have not existed. They ignored him (due to no malice of their own, of course). It seemed that whenever lovebirds would transfix one another in this way, they'd forget there was a world around them. Griffon looked pointedly away when faces drew too close, lids sagged and hands reached around to hold V's back. Garrett was feeling just fine.

Before either one of them could be indulged, V wedged a finger between them to press it to yearning lips. He hadn't forgotten a thing. “Now, now,” he warned through syllables that were quietly spoken, “if you're not a good boy you won't be getting any.” God above, it was a real test to resist him.

“Are you two done? That sounds so gross,” Griffon whinged, his disgust clear in both grimace and speech.

V thought it was cute the way his mate would grin at him, making no secret of his interest in the warlock's challenge; but there was also an element to him that hinted at a little boy robbed of his favorite toy. But in all fairness, V had thought him cute in just about every circumstance. And, shameful to say, he thought Garrett was cute to look as worn down as he did, wearing the day's battles on his clothes and skin. Why did V look so clean in comparison? Chalk it up to vicious, overprotective demons (his own mate leading the charge). He pushed away from Garrett to return to duty, smirking as a sorcerer would as he collected the pail once more. That shamelessly good boy looked like he wanted to relieve V of the burden, but he'd not enjoy that luxury today. At least, not yet. V denied his offer and, with his cane, pointed at the spot beneath the building where he'd previously left his husband. Even though Garrett looked unwilling, he was nonetheless persuaded to return. A short walk, nothing fatiguing by the time Garrett was told to sit. Like some lowlife dog!

“Come on, sit down,” V repeated, waiting and expectant.

Why, that demon was certainly against it. He stared at V from what little height he had over him. “But, V, my wounds are all—”

“They may have gone but they've left their mark, haven't they?”

“What?”

“You're warmer than I remember, and that can't be the fault of the sun.”

Griffon was settled down the middle of long pairs of legs, safely out of kicking range and turning his head from right to left as he focused on each speaker. The shine in his eye was indicative of nothing less than interest: there was to his master a sudden solemnity, sobriety, and a firmness of authority which was always a precursor to something more, or a sign that V was fixed on something he felt very strongly about. Either way, to the feathered hellion, he was fun to watch in such a state.

When Garrett would uselessly argue him, V shook his head and shaped his lips into a sympathetic, disappointed, amused little simper. He'd set the pail down by now, giving his beloved no chance. “Sit down,” he commanded, hand over Garrett's shoulder to assist in persuading him onto his backside. Garrett had to relent beneath the pressure, and for him to finally sit and rest his back against the shaded wall was a great gift of satisfaction. V smiled. Upon setting his cane against the wall, he took a towel to dip partly in the water, wetting it without saturating it before dropping to one knee by his mate. Mindfully did he wipe at a faded smear of blood on the demon's jaw, pretending he didn't feel blue eyes watching him as he went. With that one gone, he dipped a different spot in the water to clean the rest of Garrett's face. V took his chin between his thumb and a curled index finger, holding steady his head while commanding all of his lover's attention with only the fondest touch. V gave him a general cleaning, merely wiping away whatever dirt and sweat had stuck to undeserving features. Though the water had turned lukewarm in the sun, it still had to have been refreshing to warmer skin. V would switch hands when he moved to the other side of Garrett's face, and it was then that he made eye contact—and was helpless to share a smile that was brighter than his last. One subdued at that, with his habitual tired stare and no teeth shown, but a smile was a smile. Garrett might have had the pull of an incubus with which to bewitch his mate, but V was focused on his task and, more or less, had learned to handle that boy and his effortless charms. V didn't have a word for him while he tended so carefully to him, rubbing the moistened towel over his brow, temple, cheek, nose, mouth, jaw, and every possible space between. Oh, and when V released his chin, the towel gave that spot a little rub as well. What a difference some water and a little elbow grease made: Garrett looked better with the dirt off. “There you are. There's that handsome face.”

“Still looks like shit to me,” Griffon observed humorlessly.

Before Garrett could even throw a scurrilous eye at the fiend, V soothed him with gentle tones. “Shhhh,” and he used the tips of his fingers to push into Garrett's chest. The warlock, by contrast, was amused by their childish mischief and malice. It was always the same between them. A free hand cupped his newly-cleaned face to reinforce his point. His thumb stroked the cheek beneath, strayed to lips briefly before the hand in its entirety pulled away. He was still smiling, still so fond (and ever so comfortable) between bristling demons. He went further still and surprised his mate with a chaste kiss to his cheek; all to soothe him, partially to irritate his familiar. Inevitably, all of Garrett's attention went to V, delivered through admiring eyes and a grin planted askew. But when that demon folded to the whims of his heart and reached out to hold his warlock at his elbow, V denied him what he anticipated with firmness about his bones and enough resolve to steel his spirit. Did Garrett not remember that he'd been seated to be treated? He might have believed himself in good health, but V was not yet convinced that had been his reality. Dipping the towel into the water once more, V spared golden irises a glance. “Griffon,” said he with an easy air, “why don't you look out for trouble?”

“I'm looking at plenty right here.” Disgruntled was the demon who answered.

“Then why are you looking?”

“Are you kidding? Someone's gotta keep an eye on you two! The minute I'm gone, you'll be up to no good.”

V feigned surprise. “'No good'? What good isn't there in tending to my husband's injuries?” Next to earn his meticulous care was Garrett's throat and the sides of his neck, and being that the carotid arteries pumped hot blood through the neck to the brain, it would have been especially shrewd of V to try to cool the blood there.

“He's not even injured!”

“I think the poor thing is feverish.”

“Huh?!”

“V,” the object of contention near whined, “I feel normal.”

A quiet smile was his answer. V wasn't playing with Garrett's health by any means. He wiped down his throat before pressing two fingers to a pulse point. Though he could not see beyond the inky art, he could certainly feel. “Your heart's just a bit fast, love,” V confirmed, “and you're warm. As I'd suspected.” The smile fell almost fully when green eyes would fix to a pair blue, and a hand persuaded longing fingers off a bony elbow so that he could be of complete use to his mate. The towel was draped over the side of the pail and, while Garrett spent his breath explaining himself away, the other swimming in the water was retrieved and wrung, but not so tightly that it lost all excess. Garrett might have insisted he'd be all right, but V sought to make that undeniable, certain, a safe bet. He folded the towel twice over to make a cold compress out of it—somewhat cold, at least—before placing it over Garrett's brow. “Don't be obstinate. Lean your head back,” he said, needing only a small amount of obedience from his good boy. When he'd gotten it, he smiled his satisfaction. In truth, V did not want to fuss any more over him: he would only make matters exceedingly uncomfortable between them if he'd begun prodding any farther to inspect the rest of him. Anywhere below the neck—and it wouldn't be so much as a matter of dislike but, rather, an opportunity to provoke some devilry from his mate, from himself. Besides, V had known that Garrett's body had healed itself in the time it took for the water and washcloths to be fetched, perhaps even earlier, and that there was no need for the warlock to fuss at all. Battles would be hard on them both, but they'd always been careful about them, avoided the worst, and recovered from both expenditure and possible harm in good time. Rare were the occasions one of the pair would sustain a grave injury, or an infection of some sort. Perhaps the skirmish between the Judecca and Antenoras had been the occasion to fall upon Garrett. A slash too close to his ribs from a begrimed cleaver had likely been the cause of an infection. A surprisingly, mercifully mild one. V should have looked at the spot where scar tissue had been likely to form, where Garrett bled most through his clothes, but...

“I think,” he said thoughtfully, “we'd benefit from some ice.”

“That's not gonna happen, V,” Griffon interposed, his tone that of hard realism. And V knew he was right for a variety of reasons. A man could, however, wish.

“It's all right. Perhaps I should clean these other areas,” V wondered aloud, his sentence trailing at the very end while his eyes scrutinized those dirty garments.

“Just hose him off later.”

But Garrett's eyes were intense on V, who could only offer the simplest simper when he'd finally bothered to return the gaze. So much a tease, that warlock; and the look on Garrett's face was nothing short of inviting. He'd practically welcomed his mate to the ideas actively spawning in V's mind (his own included, most likely). V liked to think he was made of stronger stuff, however.

And even that did not deter him.

“I think I'll lift your shirt so that I may assess the damage.” Decision made. V was sober about it, but that inflection to his voice left little room for doubt as to his feelings on the matter. V ignored his familiar outright when he knelt on both knees now, and, with the help of Garrett's unoccupied hand, pushed away the fabric concealing the wound. On the left of the side of his chest, where the diaphragm met the lungs, was a longitudinal scar where the skin had puffed and turned pink. That wolf had been fortunate it hadn't run clean through the muscle, or worse yet, through bone. Not a drop of blood leaked free nor had the tissue scarred irregularly. Smeared crimson was one thing, to bleed it out another. V's attention rested wholly on the damage and his brow was set, eyes sharp and analytical. Though his pool of medical knowledge might have been small, he'd experience of his own when it came to bodily injury. Of course, he'd never had the benefit of rapid restorative genes, but all the same he took the toll of his work in stride. Presently, he was glad to know that his husband would be well, and that one fact was all he needed to keep him from turning a pessimistic corner. There still remained the issue of cleanliness, of drying blood staining skin where it had no business to. A figure so attractive didn't deserve that neglect.

V thought he should press one solitary finger to the skin surrounding the scar, to once again assess the demon's condition. It didn't bother him to dirty his hands, at least not for this.

“V, don't touch him there!” the raptor whinged his disgust.

“Does this hurt?” V asked, looking into Garrett's eyes to gauge his answer. He prodded around as gently as he could, making note of the creases on Garrett's face and the tug on his brows whenever he should react to the pressure. As far as he could ascertain, his mate wasn't in much pain at all and the healing wound was, yes, tender, and it would have been better if V didn't touch it or the affected area. His precious demon only grimaced a little.

“Hardly at all,” was his desired reply. There wasn't pain in his voice so much as unease, and even that very little he'd tried to control to make even less of it.

V, very simply, smiled at him. Stop worrying about me. “You wouldn't mind my...cleaning you up, then?”

Garrett had a smile with which to counter. “Go ahead, pretty boy.”

Griffon grunted his antipathy. “Why am I even watching you two?” Exhausted by the pair, the raptor spread his wings to take off above their heads. His flight lasted only a short distance, concluded when he landed on the hood of a car left abandoned in its parking space. He'd rather play sentinel than watch V and Garrett romance one another. That was for the birds—and Griffon was no such bird.

Too bad he'd had it all wrong, but to his credit he wasn't far off.

Used washcloth in hand, V wiped with all of his tender care the blood that was dried and drying on his mate's midriff, down his waist, and so held his soiled shirt to his chest the while he dabbed wetter cloth to stubborn stains. The wolf, true to his nature, chuffed pleasantly. V felt his eyes on him. How sweet the demon, so loving the sorcerer. It was with the softest touch that the scar itself was dabbed, and faintly at that, with wet cloth. The warmth housed within the fiery incubus had gotten into the washcloth, now a disposable thing that had met the end of its usefulness. But V had done a fair amount of work with it, cleaning away most of the grime and gore and, hopefully, in so doing, making a more comfortable demon out of Garrett. He tossed aside the bloodied rag and allowed him to free his shirt. “I'd say I've cleaned you well enough, considering all things.”

“You just love touching me,” purred his mate, and he wore that infuriating grin.

“I'm taking care of you.”

“Aw, I see the way you look.”

“You mean I do it with my hands?”

“As much as with your eyes.”

“Darling.” V feigned injury, but he'd started to smile midway through their exchange. “You have one thought in your mind at all times.” He stood then to dip his hands in the water and give them a light rinse. A third towel Griffon had found in the barbershop wouldn't go to waste as V dried his hands with it. He minded his wedding ring.

“You've never had a complaint for it, pretty boy.” Garrett was all wiles and a wolfish smile with embers for eyes and a furnace in his chest. “Don't I get a kiss for being good? You said I would.” He had the towel pressed to his forehead; he appeared to prefer that than to lean his head against too-hard concrete. In spite of everything, he was sitting contently with his legs outstretched and an air to his person that was almost expectant.

V stood above him at this time. Eyes on eyes, smile to smile, fondness for fondness. “I gave you one, love.”

“Not on the lips,” Garrett purred, incapable of resisting the need to touch his mate when he brought a yearning hand around the warlock's calf.

“True... I owe you, then.” V placed a hand on the shaded wall to help lower himself into a crouch, knowing of the strain he'd put on his legs but knowing also that it wouldn't last. His hand rose to cup a handsome face, touch featherlight. He noticed Garrett's temperature hadn't fallen yet. The poor thing—a kiss wouldn't be his fix. V allowed his lids to sag anyway, figuring there'd be no harm in some minor exchange of affection.

“V, you'd better give that a rain check.” Griffon again, interrupting again as though he saw some emergency in their business. Again.

But V had his mate in his clutches and he wasn't about to let him go. He'd had Garrett properly spellbound, focused on V as much as V focused on Garrett. Whatever power he held over that demon was as much a mystery to him as any, and he quite liked it that way. Truly, he did not know his own strength. He closed in on his prey without a breath of hesitation, whispering against lips, “I love—”

“Square up!”

The flutter of wings and the scrape of metal on metal shattered V's concentration to pieces, and pulled aside was his head before he'd even the chance to make good on his word. The alarm in Griffon's voice served its purpose: in V's sights was a company of interlopers, fresh from the underworld. Feet away had they bled through, scythes and cleavers at the ready. Really, right now? But the mood was ruined already. Garrett would have to wait for the promised land.

Suspended before the pair was the feathered fiend, his role as protector shining through unmistakably. “Think they wanna pay us back for killing their friends?” Griffon joked, though his tone did not otherwise suggest amusement.

Garrett pushed against the ground to rise, but V denied him irrefutably. One firm hand over his shoulder communicated V's intent as well as his words would. “No. You sit. You've done enough of that today.” He pushed, and anchored Garrett to his spot. The look on that boy's face was a real sight to behold, so contrary and confounded with brows furrowed sharply. He instantly argued but V was impervious to what were taken as demands. “You're to sit down and keep your eyes on me.” V could not have spoken more smoothly, not as if he were about to enter battle but as if he had patrons to serve. He was unperturbed in countenance, smiling so easily with sharpened, bright eyes beneath tired lids. Griffon's warnings grew pressuring.

In a very strange sense, antagonistic demons were his patrons and their doom was what he'd serve them. All part of the job—one he thought he did well enough, and could do without help. As sweet as it was of his husband to want to rise to the occasion without fail, every time, to feel so strongly the need to protect V and tempt injury in the process, it was often unnecessary of him. He knew how skilled his beloved sorcerer was at the art of demonic extermination, yet he would let his impulses beat him and throw him headlong into confrontation before any foe would dare to raise an arm against V. It was the way of mates, perhaps. But it didn't have to always be. V took his cane when he stood, keeping his back to the demons on approach.

Two Cainas and one Antenora. Easy pickings. The latter charged first, its cleavers raised to strike when Griffon intercepted.

“Come on, V, don't be stubborn. I can fight, I'm good!” Garrett pressed, again attempted to rise but again prevented by the unyielding hand of the warlock. His eyes darted from the other pair of demons to V, from V to demons.

A breath of laughter might have insulted him. “You could, but you don't have to. You need your rest; you don't need an argument with me.” He flashed his teeth at the miserable thing as he rested the silver rod over his shoulder. He wasn't deaf to the sound of metal scraping fast against the concrete. “Besides: he who respects the infant's faith / triumphs over hell and death.”

Suggesting in so many words that Garrett ought to respect where V had his confidence.

“V—!”

Pretty boy would have lost his pretty head when the Caina raised its scythe feet behind him. It was stilled in the blink of an eye, impaled from stem to stern by a pike of liquid black manifested underfoot. The pain likely searing its nerves rendered all bone and muscle lax. Its weapon fell from its hand, and as its ally rushed to avenge, Shadow tore herself from the howling Caina like a buzz saw and sent herself whirling at the other. Into meager flesh and bone she sliced, stripping fabrics and sinews from the body while grinding old bone to dust. And amid the clamorous chaos born so abruptly, V was ever so cool as he took two steps to stand before his aspiring murderer. He plunged the thin rod into the demon, not so much as sparing it a troubled glance as he delivered the killing blow upon plucking his cane free, using a foot simultaneously to push the dying thing back. It never stood a chance.

One look at Griffon entertaining the Antenora told him it was time to get on with it. V parted from Garrett's side following a brief exchange of eye contact and a finger to contented lips. Be quiet, be still. In little time Shadow had staggered the other Caina, and to it V jumped across space in even less time it took to bat an eye by the aid of his enchanted cane. Same as before: the rod struck through the tattered demon, a foot pushed into its trunk, and with a closing rejoinder—“The end is now!”—sent the demon to its maker with the instrument of death pulled cleanly away.

Only then did Shadow race to their last remaining target, tailed by her master even as she morphed into a shapeless mass of whipping lashes. V had no need to give direction when his familiars knew so well what to do and how to do it, particularly in such a small skirmish where his pride did not so much involve itself. As Griffon blindsided the Antenora with a full-bodied charge that lifted it into the air, Shadow donned her feline form and, from along her spine and shoulders, sent skewers into the falling demon and puncturing it full of gaping holes in the process.

“Hey! I was taking care of it just fine on my own!” complained her comrade.

Before she'd finished, two of her tendrils coiled round the bleeding miscreant, ignoring the desperate swipes of its cleavers as it flailed in its final moments of life. With a ruthlessness befitting her kind, Shadow slammed the demon into the ground—and fractured the asphalt below from the immeasurable force packed into her blow. She'd almost cratered the spot. V looked so very satisfied with the whole thing, he wore such a pleasant look to his face that would have better suited a man who'd just had a lovely visit with friends. He had no wisdom to impart, no grievance to air nor pity to share. Wordless, he stepped to the stubbornly writhing, stubbornly gurgling thing. Shadow kept it restrained. The battle had lasted only minutes—it was almost a shame it'd ended so quickly.

Mischief was abundant in half-lidded eyes. The cracks underfoot filled with demonic fluids; V was unfortunate enough to have stepped over one. The steady flap of wings in proximity posed a certain contrast to the stillness in the air, all around and stifling for unknown miles. Garrett's eyes were hard on V, hadn't once strayed. Only one corner of the warlock's mouth climbed northward. The demon beneath him begged for something.

Both hands sent the cane plummeting through a splintering skull. The Antenora wailed its last; in seconds the warlock killed his prey with only one hand used to lift free his weapon, ushering in a renewed quietude that he was, frankly, thankful for. Perhaps he wasn't as graceful as he could have been in the scuffle, but he'd been efficient and quick. None lost a hair on their heads or hides and that had been the point of what he'd done, what he'd bargained for.

The quiet hadn't lasted long with Griffon there to bolster him with praise. “Smooth operator you are, V.”

Shadow would gladly take her cut from the spoils of war: she staked her claim over the largest, juiciest carcass there with a possessive paw to come down over the felled Antenora. That was for Griffon to find his own. The pair could squabble among themselves as V returned to his anxious mate, sitting there like the good boy V'd known him to be.

“Pardon me, love,” he said upon joining Garrett's side, and took from him the cloth he'd taken off his forehead. Tsk, tsk. It felt warm in V's hand, no doubt from the fever that'd gripped his mate.

“Are you okay, babe?” Garrett's brows were drawn and the tone to his voice suggested he'd almost been exhausted by V's antics.

“You saw it all,” explained a warlock busy with soaking and wringing out a washcloth. “They couldn't so much as breathe on me.” If he sounded smug, he was. He did not wring all the water out of the towel when he replaced it upon his husband's brow, his manner so very easy and tender as if he hadn't just gotten out of a perilous scrap. Business as usual as far as he was concerned. Now would he set his cane aside and sit himself down beside his favored man, this time to stay. He had a tired smile to match tired eyes, but in them he was lively. He faced Garrett, bringing a hand over to join his. “You have no need to worry so much about me. You forget: I've gotten myself out of much worse than this.”

“No matter how many times you say that, I'm always going to worry.”

As predicted. V knew the sway of Garrett's heart and he knew the tune to which it drummed. It was sweet of him, if a little smothering at times. But V would rather have his smothering. He only huffed a laugh, allowing his eyes to drift to their hands. Though their palms were together, V wanted to roam. He wanted his fingers to ghost along the contours of his mate's hand, dancing through caresses and soothing him with trustworthy comfort. But their hands were clasped and their fingers entwined for now, and it pleased V nonetheless. “I know.”

He treasured him for that.

“You're feeling better,” V informed, bringing their eyes back together. “You're not as warm. In fact, I'd say you feel normal.”

“What can I say when I got you nursing me back to health?” A wolf's grin if there ever was one. Garrett had his sense of humor, though it was more worded adoration than a simple joke.

V was tickled, of course. And reliably modest. “I had nothing to do with it, love. I'm not even surprised. We both know you're a powerful demon. Your body can mend itself quickly. I expected it to.”

“You helped.”

Did he genuinely believe that? Privately, V hoped that was the case. He'd only decided to fuss over Garrett because he wanted to; because he rarely had the chance to, because Garrett never really needed it. And he didn't need it now, but all the same V was attentive and cleaned him some, and tried to cool him, and kept him at rest, and protected him from harm. Maybe it wasn't much, it definitely hadn't been necessary—but to V, for V, it was. He loved Garrett enough to go to the trouble. Actually, it was no trouble at all. He said nothing to his beloved when the humbled, little smile on his face should have spoken loudly enough. But he remembered the injury he'd looked at earlier and sobered a little as his gaze drifted down to eye to the stain having set in Garrett's shirt. “How's that one?” He wondered about the scar there. V watched him take the cloth off his forehead to free up his hand, to feel around himself beneath the cover of fabric.

“Not bad,” the demon said reassuringly.

“I hope you aren't only saying that for my benefit,” V countered, sharply-witted.

“Would I really lie about something like that?”

“I think...you would disguise the truth when it would mean something to my peace of mind.” Such frankness came across contentedly, emphasized by the matching smile on V's lips. “Let me see it.” He wouldn't wait around for Garrett to relent, and in fact he didn't have to. A frown and a small rebuttal from Garrett were hardly deterrents. Shirt lifted, scar revealed. It nearly blended with the undamaged flesh surrounding. What a relief. V grazed the scar with a tentative touch, feeling for himself to measure how well along his mate was on the path to a full recovery. Admittedly, he was not so good at this sort of thing, but from a layman's perspective he determined Garrett hadn't long to go. He'd been truthful with V; and perhaps even understated his progression. The warlock was pleased one way or the other. His hand returned to his lap, his eyes returned to Garrett's. “Almost as good as new. We can get out of here before night falls.”

“Finally. Then you can give me that kiss I've been waiting for.” He grinned again, gave V's hand a squeeze. There was a sultry look to his eyes, and while it'd been for effect, it did affect the pretty, green gems that widened at the reminder of a promise.

Of course. That's where we'd been. V's thumb took to stroking Garrett's, idly. He was amused by his mate's singular focus. They had been interrupted by pestering demons... Hadn't those fiends known never to come between a sorcerer and his sweetheart? Now their corpses were fought over as food, and V and Garrett were left alone to sit in calm, quiet delight. V did want to kiss him now, truthfully; and for such a feeling, his face warmed suddenly. Just as suddenly would he lean in and indulge them both with a surprise peck to unsuspecting lips. His husband pressed back to deepen the kiss. And they kissed some more, and some more.

V's hand stole away to touch fingertips to Garrett's throat; and his eyes closed; and his chest warmed; his lips moistened; but it was as Garrett's lips began to stray when he found himself before he'd gotten lost. Both hands came about. Both pushed against Garrett's chest as V pulled himself back. God, couldn't one kiss end as one kiss? To be this amorous, always... V hadn't had a problem with it. He was simply amazed; and to his wolfish husband he grinned his happiness. “Oops. I've gotten carried away,” he laughed in spite of himself.

“'Cause I'm such a good boy, swee'heart.” Garrett was already greedily drawing V into his arms. But he was denied any more closeness at V's resistance and didn't fight him on it. He allowed his warlock to sit him back up against the wall. He hadn't cared at all to place the cloth back over his brow. He'd forgotten it altogether. With blues so warm and fond over his mate, there wasn't really anything else in his mind. V had pegged him so well, and now that warlock had turned bashful from one moment to the next, his body unnecessarily flushing as he searched for his composure.

Griffon had had it right. Why did V continue to treat this romance like it was still new, like his feet were still getting wet, as if they'd just gotten done courting? As if he'd forgotten they were married, and had been for a good amount of time, and he only threw the word “husband” around because he liked the sound of it. Like that ring around his finger hadn't belonged to someone so immature and naive—but there it was anyway, just as there was the same on Garrett's finger, and V liked to see it there. He liked to see both. He liked what it represented; what it would forever remind him of; that he felt like he belonged to the demon to whom he gave all his heart. V was Garrett's, Garrett was V's, and he liked that. And...he didn't have to be older, wiser or seasoned to enjoy that. Their love would feel novel and delightful and thrilling for as long as they wanted it to. That was the way of things, between them, and it's what V had understood. It's what he needed to understand, nothing more than that. Nothing outside of his ardor. If he had to still blush at him every so often, turn away in embarrassment as if he hadn't known what he was doing, or apologize for failing to rein himself in because of a preconceived notion that he'd been too much, he could contend with that. He didn't mind it, really. He didn't dislike the shape of his love, he was only confused by it. Ultimately, he retreated by sitting back against the wall. He faced forward, hiding behind ebony locks that hadn't yet failed to shield his eyes from curious sight.

If it were up to Garrett, they would have gone home to relax in comfort by now. But V mastered him with verbal tugs of an unseen leash and with unspoken thoughts felt through the aether.

And, as predicted, Garrett had impatience on his tongue. “Couldn't we just head home already? I think I've flattened my ass sitting out here. Can't even feel it.”

V could not help but watch him fidget. It was funny. It gave him an idea, and now he wondered if his obedient incubus would humor him and allow one more favor. “How are you feeling?”

“Apart from my ass hurting?”

Not a word was said as eyes lingered for a spell. V turned away with all his cool restored; and, with as much ease, manifested his grimoire in his hand with a mind that reached through intangible space. As if pulled from a furnace of magic essence, residual phantom wisps a familiar shade of violet clung to the object like smoke, and died away in the mortal air in seconds. The weathered grimoire with its brown bindings and V's first initial inscribed upon the front cover lay lifelessly between the fingers that held it. It was soon opened, its pages flipped through with Garrett's eyes on its contents (though it was all right for him to look; it wasn't a secret anymore, and he wouldn't have even known how to make use of the instructions scribbled here and there). That boy could not keep his hands off: V felt one of his arms snaking around his back to tug him closer. Even with Shadow and Griffon so occupied with their meal, so noisily eating and arguing over who ate what, it was quite serene all around. Conducive to...a nap, potentially. V allowed him to bring his other arm about his waist, to pull V into his embrace, to nuzzle his ear and the hinge of his jaw, to rest his face there and breathe in the warlock's scent. Cute. V's hands were steadfast over his book. Smiling so contentedly, he started to read from the illustrated pages, reciting every syllable aloud for his mate.

“When my mother died I was very young, And my father sold me while yet my tongue Could scarcely cry ' 'weep! 'weep! 'weep! 'weep!' So your chimneys I sweep & in soot I sleep.”

“The Chimney Sweeper” was what he'd started with, and though the tone of it was bleak, he enjoyed it as much for its art as for the message it was written to convey. He hadn't been roused to emotion as he read, but he did lend the proper intonation and stresses where he thought they were necessary. He hadn't any trouble reciting six stanzas without a beak, and once he was through he posed a question to his respectfully quiet mate. “Garrett, wouldn't you be more comfortable lying down?” The page was turned.

“Not really.”

V did want him to indulge him with another favor. He smirked when he said, “I'd like you to. I think you'd feel a world better if you put your head on my lap and had a little nap.”

Garrett peeled from V to look him square in the eye. “V, I'm not tired.” He shook his head, a knowing gleam in his eye. “If you dump me in bed, though, I might have a change of heart.”

“No matter how strong you are, a fever will wear you down,” the warlock patiently argued, and looked at Garrett with a level of sweetness that was equal to his cunning. He quickly pressed a palm to Garrett's forehead. “Well, you feel all right. But, still, you must be fatigued.” His hand returned to the grimoire, his smile endured. He was attempting to convince his husband that he was tired—tired enough to lay his head down and sleep, somehow; as if V had had that much magical prowess to influence a demon's perceptions of self!

Garrett was smart enough to know where this was headed. V gleaned as much from the look in his eye, the angle of his smile and the teeth that peeked behind his lips. It seemed a contest of wills, both lovers wanting something that their better halves did not presently agree with. Which one of them won the day? Garrett's exhale served the answer.

“Only you'd get me to bend over backwards, V. And I'm not complaining.” A full grin was his to show, and as he shifted for the first time in too long from the floor to his hands and knees, the wolf in him climbed over V's lap to bring his face dangerously close to V's. He went half-lidded while the sorcerer blushed at his impertinence. Like so much the playful, lustful thing he was, he purred, “How's it feel to have all that power over me?”

“Hey, hey! None of that monkey business!” Griffon, with his infallible eagle eye and gullet crammed with Caina.

V was very much sultry in the eyes himself, but he was fantastically restrained as he seized Garrett's cheeks with one gentle hand. “I'll admit I do like the feeling. But, my dear,” he replied through a whisper, “I don't think you're well enough to play this game with me. Try tomorrow, and we'll toss out all the boys from morn to eve.” Whether or not Garrett took that as a promise remained to be seen, but to watch his husband withdraw with a quick kiss to the warlock's fingers, assume a fetal position and use V's available lap as a pillow struck him with a very definitive sense that he'd have to make good on his word—again—tomorrow. V could only have been pleased by Garrett's adorable display of devotion. Tenderly, a thin hand carded through black hair. Look at you.

One of Garrett's hands held V's knee. They simply could not go without contact.

So, V looked at the new page he'd turned to and read from the illustration. “London” was the next work he'd read to his beloved, then the next one, and the one following, and slowly but surely he'd go through every page in his book to provide comfort and company, petting that boy's hair and stroking his cheek as he so diligently read to him.

Garrett had been so quiet since he'd brought his head down. Always so polite when V had poetry or prose to read aloud. Even the talkative Griffon stayed his tongue as he pecked off the last scraps of meat he could find on bones Shadow licked clean.

Both men knew this was not necessary, but it was wanted (even if only one of the pair did the wanting). The very fact that Garrett allowed him his whims, indulged them...oh, there hadn't been a word for it. Devotion, perhaps, but even that paled beneath the weight of what Garrett did, and always would do, for his mate. Their love had been a mightier beast than either of them could properly convey. V rarely, if ever, could speak to the feelings that made his heart bleed reddest blood. For all of the poetry he consumed and, occasionally, even penned himself, he was at a loss when faced with the task or the impulse to air his ardor. But if he, through small gestures and simple actions and sparsely-worded confessions, could remind Garrett of the well of love hidden beneath skin, muscle, and bone, then all was not hopeless. And if V had to resort to cheats and tricks to give himself excuses with which to suffocate his mate with loving attention and care, then he would so resort. That wolf in man's clothing so peacefully resting at V's mercy had stolen his heart like a dirty thief. V had never asked for it back.

At the rate things were going, the couple would depart for home when the sun hung low enough to touch the horizon. V did not have his mind on time or obligation, nor did he think about any of their adopted brood worrying over their prolonged absence. V found a pause between poems to prompt Garrett's attention, still so sweetly petting his hair when a thought, first introduced to his mind in the barbershop he'd been rifling through, flickered to life. “Garrett. Humor me, but...do you think I have too much hair?” A silly question by far, but V had begun to wonder if he could do with a change. The notion was rather baffling: he'd never considered a different 'do. To bring it up now, it rendered him bashful and he was thankful to have his grimoire before his eyes, covering his insecurity from Garrett's curiosity.

Only it hadn't come. A full minute and the silence was stifling.

“Garrett?” V moved his book aside to peer at his mate. Genuine was his surprise when he found that his eyes were closed and that he was unresponsive. He'd fallen asleep... For a man so obstinate in certain matters, he'd certainly folded easily to slumber's summons. Ironic, when he would have so much difficulty falling asleep otherwise. It endeared him to V all the more, and V had only an adoring smile for the outcome he'd desired. “And I thought you weren't tired.” He returned to his poems privately, petting his dearest husband with all the same affection as before. That question on V's mind—it hadn't really mattered.

#devil may cry #dmc5 #dmc5 v #dmc v #v x oc #V is not Vergil #featherburnt #universe: Love and Harmony Combine #I'll put this up on AO3 at some point #As you can see...I went ham #And I /really/ wanted to squeeze a lot in here asflksg

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rockymountainwitch · 4 years

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List of Crystals & Stones

Stones may be dropped into a burning candle to add the energy of the stone to spell work; they may be included in herbal pouches or dream pillows, carried loose or in a small cloth bag, placed somewhere (house, car, etc), or made into jewelry to add their energy as desired. To make an elixir, soak a gem, crystal or stone in a cup of spring water and set for an hour in the life of the Full or Dark moon. Remove the stone, consecrate the water and store away from the light. Add, if desired, a drop of whiskey or brandy to hold the energies and drink by teaspoon as needed for the benefit imbued by the stone’s energy.

Agate - health, good fortune, eloquence, vitality/energy, self confidence, bursts of mental/physical energy, balance emotions, calm body/mind/emotions

Banded Agate - relieve stress

Blue-Lace Agate - calm, third eye, self-expression, neutralize anger, encourage trust and friendliness

White with Blue/Black spots Agate - travel

Eye formation Agate - bodily protection, travel

Mossy Agate - healing, cleansing, abundance, self-confidence, harmony, release anger/frustration, strength, earth energies connection

Milky with Red Agate - visualization skills, gain goals

Alexandrite - Balance the nervous system, color therapy

Amazonite: good fortune, female power, soothe nervous system, improve thought process, regulate metabolism, social ability

Amber (Fossilized tree resin) - strength/break spell: a Witch stone, increase, success, health, healing, love, absorb negative energy, manifestation, good luck, relief from despair

Amethyst - Spirituality, protection from negativity through transformation, intuition, dreams, relieve tension, meditation, cleansing/energizing, protect against psychic manipulation, help in compromise

Apache Tear - protection from directed negative energies, grounding energies, spiritual meditation

Apatite - strengthen muscles, coordination

Aqua-Aura - meditation, release emotional tension

Aquamarine - psychological influence, inspire thought process, good luck in tests, positive interviews, calms and relieves tension

Aurichalcite - calm, clear away tension, neutralize anger

Aventurine - creativity, luck in physical activities, courage, calm, sleep, leadership, decision making, soothe eyes, gain open mind, curb pride/aloofness

Azurite - Blended Blues and Greens: psychic development; meditation; facing fears; healing, visions; helps in controlling own reality

Beryl - intellect, willpower, aid heart/digestive system; build self-esteem

Bloodstone or Heliotrope - remove obstacles, vitality, enhance talents, balance, health/healing, ward injury, purify the blood, courage, strength, integrity, curb obsessive affection

Boji Stone - usually paired with one smooth/other bumpy with projections; strengthen chakras, healing, regenerative, balance energy fields

Calcite: Gold - Healing, cheerfulness, reach for new goals/emotional contacts

Green Calcite - soothe fears, calm, aid intuition, transitions

Orange Calcite - physical energy, expand awareness, intuition

Carnelian - career success, fast action, shield thoughts, good health, protection, grounding, motivation, personal power

Chalcedony - optimism, spiritual/artistic creativity

Chalcopyrite or Peacock Stone - alleviate worry, focus for prosperity, happiness, protect from negativity

Chrysocolla - balance, cleanse negativity, contentment, healing, prosperity, good luck, clears mind, open a path away from daily routine

Chrysoprase - peace, meditation, clairvoyance, gain incentive, temper egotism

Citrine - Success, clear thinking, protection, direction, induce dreams, improve self-image/confidence, prosperity, manifest personal power, initiative. Creativity, endurance

Coral - calm, relaxation, protect from illness, ward unwanted thought energies

Diamond - protection, avert unseen danger, emotional healer, power, purity, strength

Dioptase - relaxation, relieve stress, overcome emotional loss

Dolomite - avert fear of failure’ focus on success/gain resourcefulness

Emerald - artistic talent, memory, truth, visions, business success, peace, love, psychic insight, tranquillity

Fluorite - meditation, Fairy Realms, dreams, past lives, aids intellect, heals energy drains in the aura, ground/balance/focus energy, absorb/alter negative energy; discernment, aid, concentration

Garnet - swift movement, balance energies, revitalization, self-esteem/confidence, dreamwork, energy/courage, love/bonding, devotion

Geodes - freedom of spirit, linking with the cosmic dance

Hematite - communication skills, astral projection, balance/focus energy, clear calm reasoning, draw good relationships; diminish defenselessness

Herkimer Diamond - relieve stress, power booster for crystals/bojis, dream interpretation, psychic attunement; gain goals/ freer expression of love

Iron Pyrite - attract success. health/wealth/happiness, intellect, creativity, psychic development, channeling, memory

Jacinth - spiritual insights

Jade - peace, cleansing, harmony, friendship, good luck, protection, safe travel, wisdom, long life, dream focus/content; realistic/practical ideals

Jasper - strengthen energy flow, relieve stress, gather energy for directing, nurturing, protection, grounding, safe astral travel

Red Jasper - returns negativity to the sender, defensive magics

Brown Jasper - grounding and stability; soothes nerves

Green Jasper - healing and fertility

Jet (fossilized pinewood) - bind energy to a goal, a Witch stone, calms fears, protection

Kunzite - meditation, past lives recall, channeling, vivid dreams, visualization, altered states, serenity, manifestation of thought into reality

Lapis Lazuli - authority, power booster, aura cleanser, psychic development, mental balance, self-awareness, inner truths/wisdom, access universal knowledge

Larimar - transmute negative energies like anger/greed/frustration, bring excessive energies into balance

Lazurite - visions

Magnetite or Howlite - meditation, tranquillity, calm fear/anger, honesty

Malachite - business success, protection, vision quest, meditation, prosperity, hope, health, happiness, avert confusion/apathy, manifest desires, ease focus for controlling reality

Moldavite - green glassy meteorite; transformation, star communication, heal longing, find life purpose, energizing, dimensional travel, decision making, confidence, refocusing.

Moonstone - psychic ability, divination, love, comfort, peace, long life, friends, inspiration, draw attachment/sensitivity, wish granting, new start, eased surroundings curb spending

Morion Crystal - nearly black crystal used for grounding energies

Obsidian: Black - Protection, scrying, dark aspect meditation, otherworld contact, shadowland contact, banish grief, benevolence, healing

Green Obsidian - protection of income, open financial opportunities

Snowflake - grounding, responsibility, purification change, growth, deflect negative energy

Onyx - equilibrium, end worry, justice, concentration, devotion, guidance through dreams/meditation, balance of duality

Black - deal with emotions/frustration

Opal - psychic power, astral travel, meditation, calm, direct thoughts inward, reflect what is sent, shapeshifting, invisibility, best used by people born in October, relaxation, calmative

Pearl - astral projection, dreams; ease fears, calm the nerves

Peridot - soulmates, clairvoyance, solar power, attract occult power, inner vision, open awareness, ward negativity, body tonic

Petrified Wood - past lives recall, physical energy, preservation of strength, firmness of stance, serenity, balance, grounding, vitality,

Pumice - power, manifestation,

Quartz Crystals - psychic power, vision quest, protection, energy, divination, projection, attain goals, cleanse aura, meditations, intuition, store, focus, direct, transmit energy, protection

Blue Quartz - release emotional tension, soothe

Rock Crystal - scrying, energizing, water magics

Rose Quartz - peace, love, comfort, companionship, self-discipline, responsibility

Rutilated - increase strength of will, control self-indulgence

Smoky Quartz - generate energy, protection, purify energies, Fairy connection, disperse negative/draw positive energy, personal interactions

Snow Quartz - meditation, serenity, peace, contemplation

Rhodochrosite - generate energy, physical/emotional balance, heal trauma, union of male/female aspects, regain emotional energy after frustrations

Rhodonite - self-esteem, physical energy self-actualization, service; ease physical fatigue, negate fear of criticism,

Ruby - protect health/wealth, increase energy/creativity, self-confidence, intuition, contentment, courage, spiritual wisdom, generate heat

Sapphire - wisdom, material gains, attract good influences, peace of mind, hope

Sardonyx - draw troubles then toss stone into the sea, self-protection

Selenite - calming for meditation/visualization, clarify thoughts, healing; overcome guilt, let go of negativity, curb overactive fantasizing

Sodalite - meditation, enhance memory, relieve stress, aid sleep, enhance logical thought, stimulate intellect; control rage, curb negative behavior

Staurolite or Fairy Cross - good luck, protection, security, manifesting higher self on earth plane, astral connection, confidence

Sugilite - logic, business expertise, astral travel, manifestation, self healing

Sunstone - energy, healing, success

Tiger Eye - good luck, objectivity, truth, self-confidence, protection from ill will of others, harmony, grounding, stability, instinctive/psychic ability, wisdom, healing; builds confidence

Topaz Blue - psychic insight, spiritual growth, leadership, concentration, clarity of thought

Topaz Yellow - stress, deep sleep, psychic ability, calm body/mind, fulfillment of dreams/wishes by focusing into the facets, intentional creation, healing, prosperity, other realms, revitalize bodily energies; commitment to action, building willpower and decisiveness

Tourmaline - beauty, freshness, joy, friendship, grounding, protection, calm, attract goodwill, self confidence, discernment, inspiration, elixir by type

Black Tourmaline - redirect restlessness into productivity

Blue Tourmaline - clear speech, unblock mind/emotion, rubbing generates an electrical charge to direct energy

Green/Black Tourmaline - prosperity/deflect negative energies

Green Tourmaline - setting reasonable goals

Pink Tourmaline - encourage creativity, free personality

Watermelon Tourmaline - encourage practical approach to manifesting ideas

Watermelon/pink Tourmaline - self understanding

Turquoise - verbal communication, putting thoughts into words, protect the spirit, health, love, joy, social life, meditation, intuition, unify spiritual/physical; open awareness, find creative solutions to problems, curb fear of the dark

Unakite - grounding, balance, stability

Viviante - rare: rebirth, clear sightedness, enlightenment

Zircon - spiritual sight, spiritual understanding

#crystals #stones #notes #material #witch #wicca #pagan #paganism #paganlife #pagan community #witch community #rocky mountain witch #rockymountainwitch #rmwitch

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hyucksong · 4 years

Text

thing.| na jaemin

summary: “Hey -- you know that wasn’t him, right? It wasn’t our Jaemin.” Haechan lowly muttered, his snarky attitude long gone. Your fingers subconsciously rubbed the peridot gemstone on your finger as you averted your eyes. “Yeah. I know.”

genre: angst, resident evil inspired

word count: 1.1k

warnings: resident evil inspired!, sad, mentioning of killing, guns, death

an: i’ve been watching resident evil for the past week and i think im in love with leon kennedy :/

The silence was heavy in the rumbling car. No one dared to speak, no one dared to look at each other -- no one dared to breathe. The jostling of the weapons in the trunk and the motor of the car filled the air.

But, despite the mouths that were shut tight and the looming darkness that hung over every heart, they all had come to one unspoken agreement.

That thing was not Jaemin.

Your leg bounced up and down in the cramped space, gaze looking out into the distance from the back seat window. You focused on everything -- anything -- you could to keep your mind away from what it really wanted to think about. The trees were taller and healthier than you remember them being a few years ago, and the grass you zoomed past was tall and a dark, lush green. A small smile greeted your tense face as a small white and black-spotted rabbit hopped in the opposite direction the car was going, cheeks stuffed full.

You hoped it was full of healthy food, food that wasn’t contaminated. Because if the food weren’t, it would turn into --

Tears began to well up in your eyes. You didn’t want to think about it. About him, the love of your life.

Na Jaemin was no perfect person -- but he was the perfect person for you. There was something about him that shined so brightly, it was impossible to not love him. It may have been his pearly straight-teethed smile, his overbearing style of affection, or his long, dark lashes that shielded his mesmerizing onyx eyes. Whatever it was -- it made you fall for him.

And him, for you.

You remember his smile being so dazzling that it would melt your heart every time you saw it; it would cause your ears to go red and face to burn. Even after the outbreak. Even with the undead crawling around the streets and killing hundreds -- he still smiled, and it still held the same effect on you. It gave everyone some level of comfort in the dingy and falling-apart apartment.

So when the zombies broke through the barriers and invaded your shared home, and Jaemin had been snatched into the horde as you all ran away, it made sense that the group wasn’t the same anymore. There was no bright angel to lighten the load of despair. You convinced yourself that you would never see him again, and that if you did you’d have to put a bullet through his head.

So why didn’t you when his rotten hand clasped onto your pant leg? Why didn’t you put him out of his misery when you saw his familiar eyes clouded over in white? Why didn’t you? Your gun was raised and pointed at him, but it was shaking. You didn’t want to. You couldn’t. How were you supposed --

And two deafening shots were heard. They both whizzed past your ear, hitting the hand that clutched your clothing and the forehead of the one you loved for so long. Jeno immediately grabbed your arm and took off sprinting towards the car, where the rest were shooting out of the windows to keep the undead at bay.

You let him drag you, your feet tripping over the terrain and yourself as you watched what blood was left in Jaemin’s decaying body spill out onto the dirt, his hands twitching, before eventually he ceased all movement. His eyes were looking in your direction but you knew he didn’t see you.

Jeno had thrown you into the backseat and jumped into the driver’s seat, almost breaking the gas pedal. He yelled at you, screaming about your stupidity and hesitation. You didn’t hear him. The bullets were still ringing in your ear; the sight of Jaemin’s unhinged jaw was still burned into your memory, and you saw it every time your closed your eyes.

He only stopped his tirade when Renjun softly placed a hand on his forearm, and slowly shook his head. Then, all was silent. Chenle and Jisung occupied the very back seats, both falling asleep, Renjun was looking at the map sprawled out on the dashboard, deciding which routes to take, and Jeno was still tense at the driver’s seat, fingers anxiously tapping an unknown rhythm on the steering wheel. Haechan’s gaze burned into you, you could feel it. But you also knew your eyes were teary, and you didn’t want to worry him, or anyone for that matter.

“Hey -- you know that wasn’t him, right? It wasn’t our Jaemin.” Haechan lowly muttered, his snarky attitude long gone. Your fingers subconsciously rubbed the peridot gemstone on your finger as you averted your eyes. “Yeah. I know.” But did you? There was a part of you that knew it was technically Jaemin. Even with the rotten flesh and dislocated jaw, you could still see the place where his dazzling smile should have been. You still see the place where you first kissed him (his left cheekbone), you could still see the scar on his right bicep when he had ran into a concrete wall, chasing after you.

If that thing wasn’t Jaemin, then why did it have the ring you gave him still on it’s bony finger? Why was it wearing Jaemin’s favorite flannel? If that thing wasn’t Jaemin, then why couldn’t you put a goddamn bullet in its head?

It was technically Jaemin. But there was no soul. There was no golden heart for it to be Jaemin -- there was no warmth to cuddle next to. Yes -- it was Jaemin. But it wasn’t him.

At least, that’s what you told yourself. No one spoke after that, only a few worried glances were thrown your way. But if any of you wanted to stay alive -- to avenge Jaemin or not -- there was no time to worry about what had already happened. The only focus could be taking down the sick company in charge of the outbreak, making a vaccine, and living for the future.

Still, everyone wished that the gas in the car would never run out. They could go as far as they could -- far away from the sight they had just seen. Perhaps, if the fuel never ran out, they could all survive. They could all live. They could all meet at the burger joint and eat and laugh like they used to.

But there was no point in wishing for that: something so unreachable now. Jaemin was dead. All you had to do was keep living as long as you could -- for him and for your dim future without his breathtaking smile.

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blissfulalchemist · 3 years

Note

"we've lost so much time" for hypatia/conner? <3

Okay so this was going to be so much longer (like 5k kind of long) but the other time I wanted to use this line I realized wasn’t going to fit so you get like half of what would be a chapter. Lo Siento. But it’s still pretty long. (◕‿◕)♡

I needed to buy a burner phone, or at least something separate from the three I currently had. Two for the Alchemists, because it was better for them to just pay for a personal cell phone now along with one for work, and the one that was for only Abe and my mom. Four, I was on to four phones now that Tia finally called me. Seven months of silence from her, I would have worried more about her but it seemed she kept the crystal keychain. I could at least always tell she was alive when I could check in, a small blessing with her.

She wanted to meet up with me in person, three days and she’d be back in St. Louis, not the smartest decision if you asked me. She needed to stay away from here as much as possible, she shouldn’t have even been contacting me really, not that it ever stopped her before. I sigh as I open the door to my apartment, the only thing I was able to do on my own, keys tossed into the bowl on the small kitchen table, as I make my way to the fridge. I don’t know why I do when there’s no appetite to be had. My stomach hasn’t stopped turning since I heard her voice once more.

They need my help, they, she’s found people to join her little crusade, I wonder if I’ll get to meet some of them. Couldn’t tell me exactly what it was they needed my help with, it has to do with getting information or else I wouldn’t have been called. The sharp ring of cell phone prime stops the rumination of what exactly Tia and her merry band of thieves are up too.

“If it isn’t my favorite warlock,” Abe greets as if I was the one to initiate this call, “How are things in St. Louis?”

My eyes roll, as I fall into the couch trying to relax, “How many times do I have to remind you I’m not a warlock,” my voice is the only part of me that’s obeyed as I drop the American accent.

“Well you did make a deal for some power, my boy,” he retorts, I can almost see the smile he has.

Yeah some power I have being your dog, “St. Louis is fine. They’re all still trying to look for Caro.”

“And after seven months,” Abe hums a second, “Have you been able to find anything else about her? What makes her so special to them?”

“I can’t get access to anything, I’m no hacker.”

“Surely your magic can get you somewhere,” his tone has dropped lower, I’m not doing my job in his eyes, or I’m just being difficult, “A little persuasion never hurt anyone.”

I stiffen, “You know exactly how I feel about your idea of persuasion,” my voice meets his in a growl, “That’s crossing into dark magic. I don’t do dark magic.”

“If you want to get out of this job and debt,” Abe taunts, if he was at a desk I’m sure he’d be leaning over it to look deep into your soul, “you better get a little more comfortable with the idea of it.”

My jaw clenches, “I’ll ask her myself, she’s returning in a few days.”

He’s silent for just the smallest amount of time, “Is she now?”

I nod, leaning back against the couch, “She said they needed some information I have access too.” I don’t know that I do but I just hope that my bluff will get some hint on who Tia might be with.

“Well I hope you can get it for them,” should have known better, “Till next time Enache.” The call ended and I was back to being alone once more, eyes lazily looking at the clock on the wall, too early for any type of sleep and mom would be out in the garden still. I flipped the stereo on grabbing the old journal mom sent back with me, she wanted help translating and seeing if there could be any improvements to the spells from some great aunt some long time ago. It's been harder to get through them with Tia being gone, some of my ancestors encoded their works and Tia always had a different way of thinking that cracked it faster than me. It all started to blur together and the next thing I felt was weightless.

Maybe weightless wasn’t the right word as I felt sunlight burn at my eyes as I seemed to sink father into a bed. Wherever I was, it was warm and surrounded by the scent of citrus, my arms wrapped around its source. My lips turn upward, I know exactly who it is with me as I sink my face deeper into her hair pulling her closer. I’d have this dream before, I know I have, to finally have it real and right here with me….I can’t think of anything better.

She stirs, her hand grabbing onto mine, “Good morning, C-man,” Tia’s greetings haven’t changed for me and I don’t think they will any time soon, “You know what today is?” Did I? I open my eyes looking to my left hand, no sign of a ring and the only thing glittering is the lingering golden lily on her hand. “Smallville,” she teased, “you forgot what today was didn’t you?”

“I-. No,” its somewhere stuck in my brain, I should know this answer, “It's about us, I know that.”

She laughed, turning to face me, her hazel eyes sparkling like peridots in the morning light, “Of course it’s about us,” her fingers trace down my jaw, “It's Mardi Gras, the day I ran away,” I know her hands are going to start tracing around the runes along my ribs.

“Why should that matter so much? Why can’t it just be Mardi Gras again,” there’s something off with my words, they don’t feel right speaking to her. I speak to her differently during these times, I know I do….so why does it feel like I’m forcing my speech in a way I dislike?

“We’ve lost so much time because of it Conner,” she says softly, the sun’s rays bringing forth the gold in her hazel green eyes, “I should have never-.”

I sigh, tilting her chin up, “I know why you did it,” Conner, she called me Conner….did I never tell her my real name? I take another look around us, I can’t place how I know, how I can even see it, but everything looks so soft around the edges and….foggy. I always told her in these fantasies, told her everything, we were both finally happy because there were no more secrets between the two of us. A chill starts on the back of my neck.

“I know but think about all that could have happened between us if I never did,” she kisses me, her lips soft and guiding, just as I always imagined it would be, the alarms in my mind attempting to overpower how good this all feels.This can’t be real….it feels real but….Her arms pull me closer, enticing me, “We could have had all this sooner. You and me together….”

There at the end of that word, I can feel it, the barest touch of a claw just outside of this fantasy….someone else was here. I jump up from the sheets, Tia’s eyes going wide, “I have to go,” I’m almost naked and I search for some kind of clothing, guess even in a dream I still had feelings of needing to cover up around others.

“Conner wait,” she calls, hand reaching for me, “Don’t go.” Her eyes plead with me despite the small laughter she tried to use to hide the desperation in her voice. I hesitate. “Just stay here with me,” she’s on the bed on her knees, arms moving around my neck, biting her lower lip, “We can have everything you ever wanted. We never have to part again, we can live here, it can be anything you want.” Everything I ever wanted….so tempting of an offer. I’d never have to be Abe’s dog, never have to worry about leaving this place I call home, never have to have Tia away from me….

I take hold of her hands, shaking my head, “No,” I breathe out, stunning her a moment, “You’re not Tia. This isn’t real,” my thumb brushes along her cheek, as she presses her face more into my hand. I want to stay…., “I have to go.”

I turn away from her, my head making contact with the top of the van, I should have known it was her van, I can’t help but smile. “Conner don’t go! Stay!” She pleads once more, whoever made this fantasy did a good job in matching the way Tia’s voice sounds when she’s near tears, I only ever heard it the one time, “Don’t leave me here all alone! I need you! I don’t want you to leave me again!” Her words sting, though there’s no reason for them too, I never left her, “I’m sorry. I regret leaving you. Please stay with me, help us make up for lost time.”

I stiffen momentarily before a smirk comes to my lips. Nice try, I want to yell out to whoever it is that’s wanting to hold me here, “See now I know that you’re not her,” I look over my shoulder to the fake, “All you can do is just look like her, you could never match the real thing.”

I step out of the van, into nothing solid with everything vanishing around me. I’m falling, my heart races, hands reaching out for something, anything, to slow me down. “Constantin,” a woman’s voice whispers next to my ear, it would sound sultry and sweet if not for the sharp annoyance at the edge of her words, “you can’t hide forever from me.” I shut my eyes, willing myself to wake up, the voice not letting up in whispering my name. There’s a little familiarity to it, but I can’t place it as I keep hoping to reach some kind of ground, the impact would surely wake me from this, now, nightmare. Red eyes reach past my eyelids, the fire in them clear, her voice certain and filled with that faux sweetness, “I’ll find you. Maybe not today but I’ll find you soon enough.”

I hit the sofa, gasping while I bolt right back up, her laugh a whispering echo in my ear for a heartbeat more before it's gone and Coltrane the only thing I can hear again. I can’t catch my breath, my hand gripping my chest, heart beating faster than I can ever remember, the room is closing in. My heart won’t stop racing, I’m going to fall, there’s not enough air. Not enough air. Not enough space. Things are closing in. Something’s wrong. I can’t figure out what. I have to stop shaking. Everything needs to stop spinning. The record’s warped, the notes are out of place. I know they are. I need to find an out. I need to breathe. When did it become so hard to breathe?

There’s a shrill ring over taking.

Loud, too loud. I need to make it stop. Need the quiet. I need it quiet to all stop. It’s all still spinning, legs shaking, I can’t even look at the screen. I can’t even get the simple word of hello out as I answer. “Constantin,” her voice is soothing, softened after so many years, “Constantin, honey, what’s wrong?” I’m younger, or at least my voice sounds childlike as I can tell I’m mumbling what’s wrong in my mother tongue, “Oh, mica mea grădină,” I can almost feel my mom’s arms around me. I can’t remember going to the ground, rocking back and forth, head between my knees.

“Here focus on me, Grădină,” it feels like a strangled scream comes out at her nickname for me. Her voice is slow, steady, the perfect volume, “Hai Luluțu, dormi un picu. Dragul mamei, puiuț micu.” I know the words….the melody….it’s a lullaby. One she’s sung to me since I could remember, “Oare când oi fii voinicu. Să n-am grijă, de nimicu. Haida nani nani,” I can hear the way her voice is coaxing mine to join in through the sobs. I’m trying to take breaths as slow as I can, the near muscle memory wanting to take over. She keeps going and finally I can start to make out the carpet below me and the black coffee table in front of me, “Puișorul mamii. Domi in leganuț. Puișor draguț, luna și cu stealli.”

She holds the last word, my voice meeting hers with the first real words I can process myself saying, “Să-ți păzească viselii. Să-ți mângâie genialii.” Slowly I feel the tension in my body release as I continue to sing with her. The rocking stops, sobbing ceases, and soon I am able to breathe once more. “I’m sorry mama,” the first words out of my mouth as I wipe at my face, feeling a headache coming on.

“Grădina mea,” she says softly, soothing the slowing of my heart finally, “There’s never a need to be sorry.” She lets out a breath, I can see the wrinkle in her forehead she always got when she worried over me, “What got you so spooked Constantin?” I open my mouth to answer before she cuts me off, “And don’t go saying it's nothing. I’m your mother, I want to help you.”

I close my eyes, shaking my head, “It’s just a nightmare, mama, I must be working too much is all.”

“Maybe it's time for you to come home and quit this new job of yours,” I can hear the undertones of annoyance. She hadn’t been happy with this job since I told her I couldn’t visit more than once or twice a year if I was lucky. “This whole thing has just gotten worse and I’m worried about you.”

“What if I video chatted with you a little more,” I suggest getting up from the floor finally, turning down the music, “Would that make you a little happier?”

“No,” I smile at the quickness of her answer, “It’s not the same.”

“I know but it’s better than nothing.”

“What happened to that girl you used to talk about?” I stiffen, eyes shifting looking for cameras that aren’t there, “You didn’t have trouble sleeping then. Did you break up?”

“Mom,” I groan, “I haven’t dated while I’ve been out here, you know that.”

“Firstly you should,” I roll my eyes, “You not having the time is more proof that you need to be back home. Secondly, I think she had something to do with this ‘increase in work stress’. Or did you forget that this was the second time I’ve caught you in a panic attack?”

Was it the second time? I didn’t think so, that couldn’t have been right, “This is the first time mom, the other time you probably just caught me at a bad time.”

“Constantin,” she paused before letting out a slow breath, mom was done trying to worm her way through my lies, “I’m always here for you, you know that right?”

I nod, “Yeah, I know you are mama. I love you for it.”

“I love you too,” she was quiet a moment before letting out a small gasp, “Oh, my package. You got that right?” It’s still sitting on the kitchen counter, it came in three days ago, “I put some tea in there for you. It should help you sleep.” I rest the phone between my ear and shoulder, tearing open the box, “I also put some cookies and jam in there for you. All your favorites.”

It's nice to hear the smile in her voice again, I can’t help but meet it with my own as I look through everything, “Thanks mama,” I pull out the jar of tea, feeling the low hum of power they emanate, “I should be going to bed here soon.”

“Okay mica mea grădină,” I hear the faint sound of a bell, she hadn’t even left the shop yet and I was working too hard, “Sleep well, honey. I’ll talk to you soon. I love you.”

“Love you too mama,” I hang up after that, filling the automated teapot with water setting it to the correct temperature of her chamomile tea. I never had to worry about making the tea sweeter with mom’s recipe, the chunks of sugar being what imbued the tea with its magic. Sure chamomile already helped in relaxation but some needed more help and sleeping pills could be addictive, not mom’s tea though. She really must have been worried about me to have sent some, she was right too though, not that I’d ever tell her that.

It was about six months ago that I started to get a feeling as if I was being watched. Sleep was harder to have as I would wake to something echoing in my ears while I felt like I was in a fog. I brushed it off as worry for Tia’s safety due to her radio silence, now though….there was something about the dream that felt too real. It was coated in magic, it had to have been, I couldn’t tell what kind but I could tell they needed more time for something. The woman said she would find me….I just couldn’t place who would be looking for me after all this time.

One came to mind but there was no way they could have been looking for us after all this time, those were just random attacks. I shook the thoughts from my head as I filled a mug making my way to the bedroom flipping the tv on, the theme to Dateline playing. Three days, three days and I’d be seeing Tia again. I should bring her some of the cookies….then again, mama made them special for me.

#conner enache oc #bloodlines oc #one day I will have a banner made for him but ce la vie #Thank you for the suggestion Ash! I love you!

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