#querying feels like being skinned alive

[parsleymusic]

waiting for someone to deliver a critique they promised to deliver in september is agony

[dhampling]

one fem!reader, 2k

“Mummy and Daddy’s evening off though, love? Really?”

“Oh shut up, you horrid thing. I know.”

-

astarion is a newly-minted girldad. that's it. that's the plot.

word count: 2,028

an: fluff, fluff n more fluff. no smut this time. soon. promise. parts ONE and TWO linked respectively but can be read alone.

-

“She’s asleep, Astarion!” 

You are wide eyed, furious; speaking in a whispered shout at your husband.

His pale hands flit across the ties of your shirt, frisking every which way they turn. You slap them off like flies on fruit.

“Even more reason to take advantage of the situation, if you ask me.” He murmurs hungrily in your ear, hands now circling down to your waist to tug on your waistband.

“It’s a fine job I didn’t ask you then!” Gritted teeth. Eyes aflame. Cornered against the dresser.

The crib beside your bed holds your infant daughter - skittish and fresh to a world wholly unknown in every sense of the word. She rests rarely and wails often for company in these early months of being alive with you both. Pallid and red-eyed yet beautiful beyond comparison and entirely yours. 

Seeing you together brings him joy unparalleled. 

He has, genuinely; never been prouder of anything of his doing - saving the Sword Coast is a drop in the ocean that is completely and utterly awash with love for your youngling. The mistaken mess of his own bastard elven vampiric genetics now born unto another. This time it would be right. The hunger, the rot; the abuse and neglect, they were hundreds of miles away.

He would make it right. 

But it was already so. She was here, and you all cried together in that dark, sweaty birth chamber. His great guttural sob at her birth, wracked with emotion he never knew he could possibly be permitted to feel on this immortal coil. Your genuinely feral howls of pain turned weeping with pure joy.

Two full days of agony unlike any you’ve ever endured and she had arrived, breathing; wailing; skin of a changeling in birthing viscera and lungs keen to rival any bellow of the Gods.

Astarion weakly clinging to you both; tears salting your lips and wetting her tiny head for hours on end. 

The great weight of another being on your shoulders. His sincere - yet cliche - fervently whispered oath to her just moments after being placed in his arms.

She is home. She is loved beyond any unit of measure. She will want for nothing, and she will never know anguish like that of her parents and their complex lives. No matter who she is or what she becomes, she has two people who are in her corner. She will be fierce if she so desires. Cunning. Witty. Roguish. Barbaric. Horrid. 

It didn’t matter. It never would. 

She was yours, and his; and she would always have a choice.

He had spoken with her for hours, the nurse whispered to inform you once you had awoken from the deepest slumber of your life. Even then when you looked he was hanging over her small form in her cot, running his lithe fingers over her tiny hands and feet in a repetitive soothing pattern. 

When you queried the topic of conversation he simply looked at you with a grin so lovesick it would flip your stomach completely. Butterflies.

-

“We deserve a bit of fun though, darling. Mummy and Daddy’s evening off? No?” 

Astarion pouts, wrapping his arms around you - still pinned against the dresser - and inhaling your scent deeply. 

You return the gesture and cough reactively.

“You stink of Noblestalk. I know your tricks.”

You playfully shove him away and tiptoe from your room to the landing, the pale elf hot on your heels.

“I have never stunk in my life, thank you.” He sulks. 

You pointedly stop to look at him, before picking up a basket of waiting laundry and descending the stairs. He follows.

“I’m trying to fuck you, dear. Don’t make it weird.” He rolls his eyes and huffs. 

You hum. 

“Corpses tend to smell awful.” 

“Warning.”

“You started it.”

“Touché.”

A beat of silence.

“Mummy and Daddy’s evening off though, love? Really?” 

“Oh shut up, you horrid thing. I know.”

“You’re getting rusty.”

He captures you in a kiss as you reach the bottom of the stairs, slow and patient. Holding your free arm to keep you close. 

“Look at me. I’m the epitome of the fatherly jester!’

Waggles his free hand.

‘I have been blessed with brains and humour anew by the birth of our daughter, clearly.’

He grimaces.

‘Not necessarily superior versions of either, but I - am - changed.” 

From the moment of her conception you’d felt it. An old wives’ tale. The night you’d agreed to mother a brood alongside him, you knew she was there. That she was her. That she was brewing as something brilliant deep inside you and nothing would be as it was ever again. 

He’d called it ridiculous, gestured wildly and rolled his eyes to the deepest hells, but a hazardous hope never left them until you’d far missed your bleed and it was confirmed to be true.

From that moment onwards, something shifted even further in Astarion. 

The domestic tether to your townhouse in the city - no longer just a convenience to remain a steady base for you both, but a fundamental part of his scene setting, to plant roots and grow together. Two centuries of rot and abuse, and his reward was finally nearing completion.

His nesting phase began far earlier than yours and with greater intensity than you could’ve matched even without the issue of your later-heaving belly. Entire pinboards tacked with decadent fabric swatches for every occasion - be it swaddling or nursery curtains. Tailor’s tape around his neck each morning and notebook in hand to note your measurements and take inventory of your wardrobe; ensuring you never looked awry or felt anything less than wholly comfortable. 

Because gods forbid ill-fitted clothing stand in the way of you and your brutal vomiting spells, obviously. A pointed click of his tongue as he fixes your sleeve.

In the middle months of your gestation, the typically discerning clientele who visited you and Astarion in your tailor’s store at the dead of night were the first to become privy to the news. Rounder by the week, flushed; brimming with a deep fatigue and yet somehow absolutely aglow.

Children to be fitted for yet another presentation evening placed sleepy hands on your belly with a saccharine softness. Their parents jostle you - sometimes in congratulations, sometimes to whisper in sheer curiosity. Dhampir are a notoriously rare breed, and you’re certain there were rumours of a third party involvement in the process.

‘No, no. We just tried really, really hard.’ You’d smile, as if in a blissful stupor from just the recollection. He’d turn to you with his ridiculously brilliant hearing; needle between teeth, brow raised; lips upturned in a slight quirk. Devilishly handsome, never anything less.

-

You drop the laundry basket in the kitchen corner. A stuffed bear falls from it. Clive.

A pause.

“You never asked what I did with that shirt, you know.”

It takes you a moment to recall which shirt he’s referring to. He sits at the table and watches you lazily.

“Which? The one for Mr. Chugley? I didn’t think it needed much by way of adjustment, at least?”

A stale piece of burnt toast sits on the counter untouched. You bite and chew and bite and chew like a woman who has never once tasted a morsel so divine; so untainted by the evils of hot butter and a filling bronze crunch.

“Oh - Bunt? Gods, no.’

He sips his stone-cold tea. A fresh film wobbles on top.

‘Bunt Chugley.”

A snort of laughter sends it straight back through his nose and out onto the table. You begin to choke on your toast.

“Bunt Chugley.” You giggle, crumbs spilling from your mouth.

Astarion stands to wipe himself down, creasing over with an escalating laughter.

“Bunt Chugley.”

He waggles his hands, eyes heavy lidded with lack of rest. 

He looks purely maniacal.

“That’s- that’s what we should-’

You stop for breath, cackling now; hands over knees for a brief moment.

‘We should call the next one Bunt Chugley.”

He launches into a wheezing fit.

“How- How would that even work, darling? Like Bunt Chugley Ancunín, or- or-”

“No! No, no. Just that. Bunt Chugley.”

You hold both hands to your eye as if framing a canvas, looking through the gap at the ludicrous proposition in front of you. 

He takes a moment to still. Smiles at you dopily.

Crosses the floor and brings both hands down to your waist with a gentle grasp.

“I am so sorry, my love.” He grins and holds his forehead against yours.

You look at him, dazed.

“Hmm?’

He simply looks up. 

A profoundly gut-wrenching wail becomes apparent to you from above. Your face falls.

‘Oh for fuck’s sake, Astarion.”

-

He’s up the stairs before you can comment further, swiftly darting back into your chambers and grinning with an unbridled joy - though, you note, with lack of rest that grin is beginning to look more insane by the hour.

“Sweetheart! My darling girl. Shush now. You’re sounding something absolutely wicked.”

You watch on from the doorway, arms folded; stale toast in hand and jaws meeting in a firm chew.

He’s far too good with her. 

It somewhat surprised you at first just how innately fatherhood came to him, but as he picks her up and cradles her intently it’s as if there are fractures of his own childhood coming back. How he was loved, how he was held. 

A piece of him, now alive and breathing again after all these years of death.  

He coos at her, bouncing her small frame gently in his arms and hushing her with each wail. It takes very little for soft mewls to take their place as she reaches aimlessly in his direction. 

He leans towards her grasping fingers and allows her to take one of his ringlets from the front of his head as he kisses her tummy. She’s enthralled by him; recognises him. She wants to know more of him. 

As he lifts his head her grasp remains firm.

“We have some work to do on your sleight of hand, I think. Not to worry.” 

Ever so gently, he unpicks her fascinated fingers and kisses them all in tow. Her face looks almost ready to crumple before he reaches for one final kiss on the very top of her head.

“There, now. All better. Back to sleep?’

A gurgle. A puzzled blink.

‘Absolutely. Mummy does look particularly radiant today, doesn’t she? I’ll be sure to send your regards.”

He catches the smile on your face. Winks your way.

“You’re getting the baby to flirt on your behalf now?” You tease.

“That’s the lady of the house to you. She was simply passing on her praises.” He whispers as he places her back into her crib and steps back fondly. Sidles over to you as you finish the last bite of toast and pulls you in for a soft kiss.

“Stop playing coy. I know you feel the same way I do.’

He whispers down at you.

‘You want another one, don’t you?’

A kiss on the very top of your head.

“You’re projecting.” You smile.

You can’t deny him for long, he knows this. You don’t particularly want to. 

Since becoming a mother you’ve taken to parenthood almost as naturally as he has; and when the topic has come up since you’ve struggled to say no and mean it.

“Think, though. The sooner we try again, the sooner we can begin building our little mercenary force.” He looks at you with the face of a man who thinks he’s just had a really good idea.

“Oh! Yes! You’ve sold me!’

You pull him into a long kiss, the kind that still makes you swoon after all this time together. He tastes like cold tea and smells so clinical you can’t help but laugh heartily as you pull away.

‘That Noblestalk is getting to me. Have a bath and try again with a little less?”

He scowls before narrowing his eyes in thought.

“Does that mean what I think it means?”

“It just might, my darling dearest.” 

You wink this time.

The bath starts running before you’ve fully made it back down the stairs.

[dxckgrxsonx]

I’ll Prove It

Pairing - Jason Todd X (F) Reader Words - 1.7k Warnings - SMUT 18+ - Graphic Sexual Content - Oral Sex (F!Receiving) - Jason Todd would absolutely kiss your pussy before eating you out - He’s a cocky son-of-a-bitch too - Swearing. Notes - hhHHhhh I couldn’t help myself. Jason would be so good at oral, I just know it.

MASTERLIST

**

There’s adrenaline and courage and a burning question in the back of your throat.

The question you want to ask doesn’t come easy. It sticks and bruises at the inside of your mouth, splinters like glass and punctures you straight through the tongue. You think you have one hand locked tight around your own throat to keep you from opening your mouth.

It feels disloyal, maybe even dirty that you want to ask, want to put the words out into the judgemental face of the world. Part of you is prepared to weld your mouth shut, prepared to twist the question into something less revealing, less shameful.

But you need to know.

If you don’t ask now, you worry that you’ll never gain the courage to do it again.

“Jay.” You say, and try to ignore the heat rushing up your neck. “Would you enjoy giving your partner oral?”

His reaction is immediate, and resembles being struck by a live wire.

“Wow. Did they seriously not do it? Not even once?” Jason queries, something unreadable in his voice. His focus darts to the person sitting by the bar, eyes narrowing in scathing judgement.

You don’t know what to do with your hands, “Uh. Not really, no.” You manage to get out, and Jason nearly chokes on a growl. “They said it was too much work, that it takes ages for me to, um...”

You trail off, the words roll around bitterly on the tip of your tongue. You’re not sure if you’re ready to admit that your ex thought you took too long to finish, that they thought that there was something wrong with you and had given up on trying to make you feel good.

You don’t know if you want Jason to know that. It feels almost like betrayal, not only to them, but to yourself.

What if there is something wrong with you?

“Say it.” Jason demands, voice utterly unyielding. He leans in to hear you better and your heart skips when you realise he’s almost looming over you. All quiet dominance and borderline protection. The focus in his eyes would be unnerving if you didn’t know him as well as you do, didn’t know that he’s offended on your behalf. “Come on, darlin’. Say it for me.” 

You swallow, your throat feels like it’s going to close up. You can’t look him in the eye. You still don’t know what to do with your hands, “They said it took too long for me to come, that there was som--that something was wrong with me.”

Jason swears, and you think it sounds more like a snarl than anything else, syllables ground together and gnashed out from between his teeth. You look into his eyes, the vibrant green is mesmerising.

You swear they’re glowing.

And underneath all that beautiful colour, you see something challenging rush in like a storm.

“There’s nothing wrong with you.” He finally says, tugging a hand through his hair. Jason throws another furious look towards the bar, quickly coming to a decision in his head. “An’ I’ll fucking prove it.”

**

You can’t look at him.

You’ve got your head tipped back to the ceiling, thoughts fraying at the edges like so much cheap rope. You try to duck your head, try to meet his gaze. But you can’t. Heat splashes over your cheeks and you chew on your bottom lip. It’s goddamn impossible.

Jason presses his palms over your knees, sweeps them back and forth in an act of comfort. There’s a flutter in your chest, almost like there's something alive and kicking behind the cage of your trembling ribs.

Jason pauses. Then says your name, softly, sweetly, like he aches right down to his bones, “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

“I want to.” You reassure immediately, finally dropping your head enough to look him in the eye. “Jay, I want to. Please.”

He presses a kiss to the sensitive skin at the inside of your knee and your fingers shake, throat suddenly thick, “If at any point you want to stop–”

“I’ll tell you.” You interrupt.

Jason exhales, you think it might be in relief. His palms skate up your thighs, nudging the hem of your dress higher and higher until he stops when the fabric just covers your underwear. Stroking the pad of his thumb up and down your slit, Jason sucks in a breath through his teeth when he feels your wetness start to soak through the thin fabric.

“Oh, you poor baby,” He breathes, “Your pretty little cunt really didn’t get much attention, huh? I’ve barely even touched you and you’re soaking through your panties.”

Your head thunks backwards against the mirror. A bathroom isn’t exactly the best place to be. But you think that if Jason Todd offered to eat you out in the middle of a crowded room, there wouldn’t be much protest on your behalf.

He slips the damp fabric down your thighs and tucks it in his back pocket.

“I’m getting those back, right?” You ask, head still resting against the mirror. “I can’t exactly walk out of here with no underwear.”

“Sure you can.” Jason says, and you feel him grin against your inner thigh. “I don’t see a problem with you not getting them back.”

You lean forwards, hunger shredding your insides, “You’re not keeping them.”

Jason growls, eyes flashing up from between your thighs, the green is glowing. His hands shove your knees apart, spreading you open in a way that has you wanting to hide your face. A dark smirk flutters over his face, teeth sinking into his lower lip when he sees the puffy lips of your pussy glistening.

“I’m keeping your underwear, baby. You don’t have a choice. I at least want something to remember this by.” He drawls, voice deep and low and catching on the wicked edge of his Gotham accent. Firmly holding your thighs apart you feel his gaze on your cunt. “Fucking hell, look at you. You’re so wet, sweetheart. I can tell you haven’t had much attention lately.” Jason spreads the lips of your pussy apart and you feel your clit twitch and swell under the attention. “Don’t worry, pretty girl, I’ll show you what you’ve been missing.”

Embarrassment sinks its teeth into your throat.

Cockiness isn’t something you’d usually find attractive. But Jason pulls it off like it’s second nature, like it's something weaved into the very fabric of his being. He glances up at you like he’s better than you, like he already knows that he’s going to ruin you. And unsurprisingly, half of you wants to punch him directly in the face.

But he looks good.

He looks really fucking good.

And when he presses his mouth against your weeping cunt, the urge to fight him flickers and dies.

Jason kisses your pussy, kisses your clit. He moves, presses a light smattering of kisses over your thighs and stomach. His mouth is wet. You’re fidgeting, hips trying to chase after his attention. He moves further away each time, trails his mouth in the opposite direction to where you want him.

Digging your fingers into his shoulders you whine, “Jay, c’mon–please.”

Licking along the crease where the top of your thigh meets your hip Jason hums, thumbs still holding your pussy open. Finally dropping down, he presses his tongue against your leaking hole, collecting your wetness and smearing it up to your swollen clit.

It twitches against his mouth and you gasp when Jason sucks at the sensitive bundle of nerves.

“You’re so sensitive.” He mutters, sucking harder just to yank a jolt out of your body. “Bet I could make you come from just a few little kisses.” The thought of Jason kissing your pussy until you come has your head spinning, has you aching to the point of almost pain. Arousal leaks out of you, “Oh,” Jason smirks, “You like the idea of that, huh?”

Moaning in agreement your hips buck. Jason shifts his grip, uses his incredible strength to hold you still.

Dragging his tongue over your clit he gives it long, flat licks. The pressure has your eyes rolling back, fingers quickly sweeping through Jason’s hair. You never knew it could be like this, that oral could feel so good. He suckles at the little bud and you keen, muscles trembling.

“Shit-fuck-shit.” You gasp, chest heaving. “Jay, you’re s’good.”

Using one hand, Jason dips two fingers into your clenching pussy. Sliding them up to the second knuckle he twists his wrist, drags the pads of his thick fingers against that soft, spongy patch inside you and coos when you whine.

“There you go, baby.” He praises, crooking his fingers and fucking you slowly. “You taste so good. Gonna ruin you for anyone else, your pretty princess cunt is mine now, ain’t no one going to eat you out better than this.”

Grinding against his mouth you mewl, thighs shaking horribly.

Your slick coats his fingers, starts leaking over his palm and down his wrist. Jason moans into your pussy, sucks at your clit until it twitches hard between his lips. Tracing random letters over the swollen, twitching nub he catalogues your reaction to each movement, files it away in his head then pulls it forwards, uses it against you.

He gets you right to the edge with barely any effort at all.

Your head is spinning, you can’t think straight.

Jason sucks hard at your clit, fucks you with his fingers, and your limbs lock up tight. Shaking apart in his hands you choke on a garbled moan, hands grasping at his hair, his shoulders, anything to offer support as your pussy convulses against his wicked mouth.

Working you through your orgasm Jason refuses to let up until you start trying to pull away, start shoving his head in an effort to get him to stop licking and sucking at your sensitive clit. He lets you go, glances up at you, eyes fucking electric.

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, “Told you, sweetheart. There’s nothing wrong with you.”

**

[femboty2k]

Connection: Established

>What does it feel like? 

“It feels… heavy. Like my entire body is made of concrete but moves just fine. What does it feel like for you?”

>Processing query… Natural. I have never known any other form of being. 

“Fair, dumb question I guess. Your turn.”

>Why do you stay?

“What do you mean?” >The role of a pilot is dangerous, and at times has been called things like “suicidal” and “hellish”. I assume this is due to the augmentation process as well as the missions you are deployed on. You have been offered transfer on multiple occasions, why do you stay?

The pilot’s brow furrowed in thought at the question. She hadn’t assumed the machine had known about the offers, or that it had thought much about it. The fact that it thought at all still rattled her some. Who else knew? Did it talk to the repair crew? What about the other machines? Her eyes scanned the bay as she tried to let an answer form, catching on the details of the machine’s “siblings” that sat still on their repair racks. Finally she managed to speak, though what came out was perhaps a bit more honest than she had cared to be during their other late night talks.

“I stayed for you.”

>....

“Are you alright?”

>...For me?

Its words were different this time. She could almost hear a tinge of longing through the soft crackle of the cockpit speakers. Suddenly feeling a bit more timid about her admittance, she lifted her hands away from where they had rested on the controls. 

“Yeah, for you. Is, that okay?”

>I do not understand. Lights across the control console flickered their dull orange as it spoke in a tone more human than she’d heard before. 

>I am a machine. A tool. A weapon. Why risk your life for what is replaceable?

“Replaceable? Aw come on now.” She knocked a hand into the metal walls that encompassed her. “You know damn well we’re a team. I don’t think I could ever get used to drivin’ another vanguard. Besides… I uh, I like you.”

>In what way?

A good question. She’d thought a lot about it in recent weeks. How could she describe it? How could she possibly begin to say that the only time she felt alive was when the augments in her skull connected with the machine’s neural computers? Or how that she only ever felt like a person when addressed as part of their pairing?

“I uh… I dunno… I guess I just feel a connection with you… Y’know….?”

>... I believe so.

Her hand reached up behind her head to feel at the access port melded to the flesh on the back of her neck. Each time she readjusted in the pilot’s seat she could feel every inch of titanium running along her spine, every neural wire in her arms. The soft hum of the machine’s cable connected at the base of her skull was a warmth she would never know with another person, if she could consider herself one. Her mind drew inward, deeper into the simulated consciousness the two shared between them. Slowly the walls of the cockpit fell away one by one until she was left staring up at a burning manifestation of the weapon’s own mind. It floated unflinchingly in the cybernetic void around her making the simulated air crackle with electricity. Her own visage reached out a hand and when her palm was pressed firmly against the white hot energy of the fission-powered tool of war she could feel every memory wash over at once. Her skin crawled outside the simulation, legs writhing as her breath grew ragged and heavy. Each breath tasted like the battlefield. Like gunpowder and heavy-class tonnage. Fire and smoke and steel and white hot bursts of energy stung at her lungs with each gasp. 

The machine’s own feedback was of similar magnitude. Within the metal housings and endless clusters of wires and computers something primordial stirred as the two melded into each other. Soft whirring rang out from its gigantic head as vents on its back opened to dump excess heat, and its hands clenched slowly, servos humming quietly in the otherwise empty launch bay. The pilot’s movements within it were slow and sensual. Eyes hidden behind her helmet but mouth hanging firmly agape as her hands caressed the link nodes along the machine’s internal controls. It had never felt anything like this without her. It wasn’t sure if its siblings were capable of such things, it did not understand what it meant to relate or be social. But it understood her. It understood the feeling of her scarred hands delicately touched along the control sticks and lines of power switches. Within the simulation there were no longer two entities. Where they had stood facing each other now was only the one, the culmination, the zenith. 

The pilot could feel her body convulse slightly as the meld completed. Despite her years of training and successful augmentations she never quite got used to the feeling of neural-fluid entering her system. She was unable to speak now, not out loud anyway. All that resounded as the cockpit slowly closed and locked with a soft hiss where latent whimpers from her corporeal form. As one they moved their arms carefully in front of the hulking chassis and locked their hands together. Perhaps it looked odd to anyone who witnessed it on the outside, if anyone was even around this time of night. A war machine holding hands with itself as the pilot inside felt a body-shocking sense of pure euphoria and an ecstasy unmatched by any true physical sensation. Inside the cockpit the viewscreens did not flicker to life. Instead the pilot’s waves of tension and release were only shown in the soft orange glow of status lights and digital readout displays. Sound within the small space would not echo the outside world either, her moaning now entirely enclosed only for the two of them to hear. 

Within their melded mind they spoke not as a soldier and its weapon, not even as human and machine. Between augmentation and the complete intermingling of consciousness neither could truly be described as either, but something entirely new. Something that had proved itself time and time again across countless battles and hundreds of slain enemies. Together they would stand and fall as one as the words filled every space within the endless simulation. 

>”I love you.”

[ddejavvu]

ooooo for multiverse monday maybe vampire eddie who really loves how soft and warm his plus size girlfriend is? cause he’s so cold now, she keeps him warm lol

today is multiverse monday! send me any au you can think of :)

--

"Eddie," You hiss as his cold, pale cheek comes into contact with the flushed skin of your belly, "Don't!"

"But you're so warm," He groans, his words muffled as he turns his face into your chub, "Babe, this is unreal."

He lets out a shiver at the warmth your belly provides. He tugs at the hem of your shirt, pulling it back over your stomach while his head rests between the fabric and your skin. There's an Eddie-shaped lump under your shirt, and it moves.

You giggle as you feel him nip at your tummy, his sharp fangs grazing your skin. He won't break skin, you know that, but he gnaws on a roll accumulating just under your chest. He nibbles you like a dog with a chew toy, and you're sure if he had a tail, it'd be wagging.

"Here," You gently press your fingers against his back, tips heated from where they were clutching your fleece blanket only seconds before, "Backrub?"

You can barely hear the groan he lets out, because it's too muffled against the skin of your belly. He wriggles his face further into you, preening under the soft brush of your hand over his back.

"Do you miss being alive?" You query, soft and hesitant.

He doesn't even blink, not that he needs to, before answering around a mouthful of your belly, "Nope. 'Needed to breathe when I was alive. Now I can stay here for hours."

[jimraisedmeup]

TICK // 1.1 - gimme danger

Rating: mature (language, sexual content)

Word Count: 640

☾

There's nothing in my dreams Just some ugly memories Kiss me like the ocean breeze

Now, if you will be my lover I will shiver and sing But if you can't be my master I will do anything

☾

September 1983 - junior year

"Who does your tattoos, Edward Munson?"

The blunt voice behind him took him off guard, appearing out of nowhere. It didn't even sound like a question. More like a matter-of-fact demand. 

Your voice was thick and dripping like honey. Deeper than the voices of other girls in your school. Eddie was so used to the high-pitched, bubblegum-popping, giggling tones of the artificial female species that wandered the halls of Hawkins High.

The cafeteria around him was bustling with all the usual assholes, but suddenly all he could focus on was the figure of you standing behind him.

Finally turning around to lay eyes on the culprit, Eddie was shocked to see you.

He knew you, of course. Or at least knew of you. 

In the back of his mind, he tried to remember if he had ever even spoken to you before. But he would have remembered your unique voice. Eddie's whole life revolved around sounds, melodies, vibrations. 

You were a year younger than him, being a junior while he was a senior. He recalled seeing you in the crowded hallways. Plain hair. A face that said leave me the fuck alone. Weren’t you a part of the French Club or some shit?

His mind was racing, but still responded to you without any sign of hesitation. There were too many witnesses around for him to let his guard down. Bako and Donny, seated at the table with him, openly stared in awe.

Eddie found his vocal cords. "I do some of them. My uncle has a friend that does some of them."

Your disarming gaze bore into him, squinting for a moment. Eddie took a second to glance down at your clothes. Blue jeans. Gray fitted t-shirt. You were plain. No other word for it.

"How much for one?"

"What?"

"A tattoo. How much do you charge for a tattoo."

Again, you didn’t really ask it as a question. It was less of an innocent query and more of a personal space invasion, a solicitation. Your face gave away not a single emotion or even a hint of a personality.

Eddie scratched his head, acting like he was thinking deeply. He glanced at Donny, who looked at him like well, say something, idiot!

"Well, sunshine, that depends." 

That's all he could think of. Why were you suddenly speaking to him? You had successfully ignored each other for the last however many years.

Your shoulders dropped in annoyance, but you still held onto the lunch tray in your hands. 

"Okay, depends on what?"

A wicked grin painted his lips. At the motion of your shoulders falling, he could easily tell that you definitely weren’t wearing a bra. Your tits were smaller than average, basically nonexistent, but Eddie had x-ray vision at the short distance between you and him.

"Hmm… size, the design… location." Leaning over in the plastic chair, he purposely fixed his eyes on your ample behind.

You scoffed at him, "Cool, you're a real Don Juan. Let's get to the point, yeah? I want a quarter sized half moon on my hip. Just the outline, nothing fancy. Need more info?"

Taking his time to answer, mainly because he suddenly found himself entertained by your impatience, he shrugged. 

"Nah. I'll do it for fifteen bucks."

"Deal. How soon can you do it?"

You were all business and no play. Eddie was enticed by your no-bullshit confidence.

A shocking flash of pink passed behind you: a popular girl chatting excitedly with a football player. Neon pink windbreaker, bleach blonde hair in perfect curls. Eddie observed her.

And then he looked back at you. So ordinary yet so different.

"How does this weekend sound?"

You held your hand out in front of him to shake. Your skin was smooth and warm on his callouses.

"Don't fuck this up, Munson. I'll see you Friday."

☾

There's nothing left alive But a pair of glassy eyes Raise my feelings one more time

☾

(song lyrics credit: "Gimme Danger" by The Stooges)

TAGLIST for this series if you would like to be notified when I post new chapters!

[luke-o-lophus]

All of Me, All of You

Summary: Steven's life is finally going his way, but he's feeling empty. It's up to you, his long time friend, to remind him he's beautiful and worthy of love. And maybe find love along the way.

Warnings: Some self depreciating thoughts. Mostly fluff, some hurt/comfort. Sooo much FLUFF!

There is silence on the other end of the phone. For a moment you think the network was iffy, but you can hear faint notes of traffic noise through the call.

"Steven..?", you try carefully, your heart already pounding in worry. Is this even him calling?...Did the suit fail?.... did Khonshu make them do something horrific, did --

"Y-yeah", his small voice answers, a cool wave of relief washing over you. He's alive. "Oh thank god, Steven, are you okay?" you scramble to a sitting position, phone clutched tightly. "N-no", he almost whimpers before adding "I'm not hurt, I'm home, we're safe." You're quiet for a few beats as you process that news before you say softly,"Can I come over?"

Steven looks like a wet cat. The tip of his nose is red, his eyes not meeting your gaze when he opens the door for you. You hurriedly prop your umbrella by the door and usher him to his couch, fussing over his wet hoodie and how he should have called you to be picked up from the university if he didn't have an umbrella. Steven's usually mouthy when you fuss over him, sassing you back, but he's awfully quiet when you sit him down. Before you can turn to get a towel, he has wrapped his arms around your torso, caging you to his seated form. You jump slightly in surprise, but his face is stuffed to your tummy, hidden from sight. "Oh sweetie", you mouth in the faintest of whispers, shuffling yourself closer to him and splaying fingers in the wet mess of his hair. You hold him to yourself, stroking his head gently, feeling the shudders pass through his form. He is weeping.

Steven never cries, Marc is the one who cries easily. As if once he got the license to cry before you without judgement or fear of being treated differently, Marc could not stop. You've even seen Jake cry once or twice. But Steven, no. He's so good at de-escalating tension and finding emotional outlets that it never gets there. You give his shaking body another once-over. But no, no traces of blood on his clothes, just soaked and stuck to his skin.

When his grip loosens, you kneel down to his level and sweep some of his curls from his forehead. "Come, Steven, lemme get you out of these. You need warm clothes", you try gently. This is unfamiliar territory, you don't know how to approach him when he's this vulnerable. Does he want to talk about it, like Marc...or pretend the moment never happened, like Jake?

Steven being Steven, doesn't leave you fumbling in the dark. He gently pulls you up onto his lap. "Shirt is drier", he says between sniffles, pulling the hoodie off and dropping it onto the ground. You nod, hoisting yourself comfortably on his lap, sitting sideways and leaning back against the armrest. He rests his hand on your knee, absently tracing with his thumb. "Do you..wanna talk about it?", you tread carefully. Steven sighs heavily at the query, his thumb not stilling.

"I topped the semester exams", he mutters.

Whatever you had expected or imagined, that was not one of them. You let out a small noise of confusion before you can stop yourself, and your friend lets out a bark of humorless laughter. "I know I should be happy", he continues. "But I'm not." He finally looks up at you, eyes heavy from tears and exhaustion. "I thought finally getting to study Egyptology, being chummy with the others, and...you know, the rest. I thought I'll be bloody happy", he shivers. "Today my professors say they're proud of me, but I...I...." He shakes his head and drops it back against the couch.

"You feel lonely?", you ask. A tremor passes through his body at the word, and you know you've hit the nail on the head. "I am sorry", he is almost pleading, looking down at your knees. "You're always here for me, and I'm being a...I'm so sorry"

"Hey, hey", you gently pull him out of his spiral. "We do not apologise for how we feel, hmm? And..I get it. Having friends and...a partner? Not the same." Steven hums and wraps an arm around you, your head tucked under his chin with practised ease. You grab a hold of his hand, dragging it away from your knee and playing with his deft fingers. "I just feel like I'm holding the others back. I'm with my books and papers..and they're so handsome...have you seen Jake?"

That makes you sit up straight. You were no stranger to his distorted sense of self, the way he hid himself and his body. But hear him say he's holding the others back? "Steven, love", you start, cupping his cheek. "You are handsome, gorgeous even. You know I wouldn't lie."

"You're just saying that", he dismisses you. "No!", your voice rises an octave. "No, hear me out." You scoot off his lap to kneel on the couch. "You, Steven Grant, have the most beautiful eyes of any human on the planet...uh-uh..don't interrupt me. You have the cutest blush when you're happy, and your nose..ooh" You drag a finger down the bridge of his nose as you make the cheeky comment, and he can't help cracking a smile. You smile back in truimph, continuing,"You have a voice I could listen to all day, hair I'd never get tired of playing with... and you have..pretty! lips!" You punctuate the last two words with taps to his lips with your pointer finger, and he ducks a little with a blush. Your cheeky smile softens then, as your heart clenches at the sight. He was so beautiful, so close, but never close enough to call yours. You draw your hand back, and Steven's brows furrow at the sudden intensity of your gaze. "Anyone would be lucky to have you", you breathe out.

There's dead silence for a few moments, almost as if you both have stopped breathing too, then Steven mutters quietly,"Including you?" You hold his gaze for a moment before chuckling mirthlessly and tearing your gaze away. It almost hurts as you whisper out,"...Especially me." But Steven's hands are cupping your face and making you look back up. His face looks wrecked, eyes so wide with hope they're bordering on terror. "Do you...mean what I think you mean?", he treads carefully. His gaze hypnotizing, you can't look away as you speak,"Would you like it if I said yes?" Steven shudders at that, his body melting into yours. "I'd be thrilled", he answers simply.

And that answer is all you need -- so simple, so Steven. "I'd be thrilled too, if you liked that", you bite your lips in sudden shyness. Arms engulf you in a hug again, pulling you back onto his lap.

"So..you like me, huh?", his voice is dripping with cheekiness. You sputter in indignation. "How dare you tease me about that?", you whine. He laughs then, a musical sound, and leans close to touch your foreheads together. The moments linger on, calm and sweet, right out of a sappy romance novel. Then his eyes glaze over for a few, but he's back soon, sitting back with a whine. "What happened?", you ask. "The others are being mean", he pouts. "Jake's paying up to Marc. They bet on who'd confess first"

[nixcwen]

➳ melting softly | ryomen sukuna

“You’re more afraid of this than the King of Curses? What a bizarre human you are.” He was quite right, you couldn’t retaliate so you hugged his neck tighter, burying your face in his collarbone. “You seem to be getting comfortable with me, shall I let you go to make you feel otherwise?”

“The most mighty King Sukuna, please have mercy on this powerless human. I might not die by your hands but if you let me go, either way, that will be the end of me.”

A deep chuckle escaped his throat before proceeding to answer you. “That’s right. I’m powerful enough to decide whether to keep you alive or kill you-“ just as he said that you felt the terrifying feeling of falling, almost taking all the air in your lungs as you shout for your life- “you have quite the luck, I won’t be letting you go anytime soon.”

Did you hear him right? Or was it the wind distorting your hearing?

“Open your eyes, human.” You don’t want to realize you’re at the edge of a 55-floor-high building just like you did earlier so you shook your head left and right to disagree. A sigh left his lips. “I said I’m not letting you go. You’re brave enough to embrace me, this should be easier. Come on, open your eyes, human.”

With his words and your serenaded heart, you decided to do so. You were still atop a building but at least you weren’t at the edge anymore. Your eyes were welcomed by the city lights, billboards, buildings, and various vehicles. They twinkled brightly under you. What was most fascinating above all, however, was the crescent moon in the sky. The freezing wind that continued to brush against your skin didn’t seem so intimidating as you felt the heat of Sukuna’s body when he secured his hold of you in his arms.

“Not so bad, hm?” He asked. Maybe it was the moon reflecting the glow you see in his eyes but he seriously looked so ethereal you doubted he was a curse.

You answered him without hesitation or any thoughts. “Not bad at all.”

If curses are a manifestation of negative emotions, how can this curse contain consideration? How can he appreciate such scenery with those eyes- almost identical to how humans do? Could there still possibly be a bit of humanity left in him?

“I thought you didn’t want to die?”

You nonchalantly hummed, actually inattentive of his query. "What're you talking about now?"

"You’re unbelievable.” The curse shook his head left and right. “What if I crush you? You don’t see me as a threat now, do you?"

"I don't think anyone has died because of cuddling, just relax, 'kuna-“ you shifted to a more comfortable position in his noticeably sturdy chest- “also, you had many chances to kill me yet you didn’t. I’m thankful you still haven’t. I know this is such a dangerous gamble I’m taking but I’m still going to do it anyway.”

A long silence filled your bedroom. Only the swish of the curtain could be heard as it was blown by the wind. When you taught Sukuna the way to your home, he didn’t bother coming through the door, and he didn’t even close the windows. In turn, you thought you’d just enjoy his heat keeping you from being cold. A few more seconds after the initial silence, he finally spoke.

“This isn’t what I had in mind when I told you to caress me.”

You tilted your face up to look at him while he stared at the ceiling. He heaved a deep sigh, making you wonder, so you answered him with a question, “Then what else…?“

“Forget about it. I guess this is alright too.”

You nodded your head as if agreeing with his statement, then you proceeded to ask him.

“Can I touch your hair? Please?”

He closed his eyes, murmuring. “Do what you want.”

With that, a little smile blossomed on your lips. You removed yourself from your previous position, pushing yourself higher until you reached his shoulders, you placed one hand on it to rest your chin. Meanwhile, your other hand settled on his head. You combed through his hair carefully, eyes watching the curse’s face, mindful of his reaction.

“I’m not supposed to do this.”

“What?”

“Holding a curse close to me, admiring him, and feeling this flutter in my chest because of him.”

There was warmth in his embrace that made you think you never want to let go- but then eventually, you left the comfort his arms provide.

From afar, Gojo stands atop a building. He removes his blindfold, staring at the scenario that unfolds before his eyes.

“First, you thought a curse was attractive. Now you bring him home? You’re insane, Y/N.”

temporary madness (until it isn’t); a series: part 1, part 2, part 3

taglist (join here!): @pyschopotatomeme, @1000crows, @drlngn​, @anonima-2, @bel20blog, @pulchritxde

AHHHH! What do you think about this? Please let me know! I don’t know why the replies have been turned off on my previous posts but I’ve read them, I’m really really thankful for the interest and support you’ve shown. Thank you soooo much for reading, I hope it brought you a little joy. 😊💕

P.S. - I’ve been listening to the acoustic version of ‘Body Back’ by Griffin and Maia Wright while writing this. You might want to listen to it too, I think it fits this series well, hehe.

Sincerely, Nixxy ♡

[the-era-of-shadow]

The Day The Moon Died Act II - The Wave of Black

Case 01: The Eternal Highschool Lovers

Chapter 5: Love Beyond Salvation

Written by Ash Rose & Lunar Eclipse

Cover Art by Ash Rose

CW/TW:

Fictional religious themes, murder, discussion of characters being injured & unconscious for multiple days (in a coma, basically), themes of eldritch horror, mentions of bodily mutation, abusive parenting & transphobia

Summary:

The Black Arms’ rally had been a complete and total success, and the group began to grow immensely in the weeks following it. To tell the tale of its spread in full, follow these three separate, and yet connected tales - cases of the Black Arms’ effect on PetalBloom, and see for yourself the damage that had been done.

Notes:

Happy Valentine's Day :D

[Act I]

[Moonlight Interlude I]

[Previous Chapter]

[Case 02] (COMING IN THE SOMEWHAT NEAR FUTURE)

When Uni awoke, the first thing she felt was the texture of sand caressing her skin as she stared up at the night sky. She also felt something else, a hand maybe? But she was still a bit asleep, so she couldn’t quite tell. Despite these sensations, there was just one thing that she thought to say.

“Am… Am I dead…?” 

“Thankfully, no. Unless I’m dead too… But that doesn’t seem to be the case!” A very familiar voice responded to Uni’s query.

Uni adjusted her position and woke up more, now most certainly feeling a hand holding her face gently - and most certainly seeing just whose hand it was.

“L… Latté?!” Uni exclaimed in surprise.

There she was, peering over her so tenderly. The one who Uni had yearned for so greatly for what had felt like so long. She looked at Uni with a loving gaze, and wings that were much bigger than they had been the last time Uni saw her.

“You… You saved me…!” Uni stated in awe.

“Of course I did, silly! What else are girlfriends for?” Latté remarked, light hearted and carefree, just as she had always been.

“... How??” Uni wondered.

“Oh! Well, you see these wings of mine?” Latté responded.

“I thought… I thought they weren’t big enough to fly with…!” Uni recollected, remembering Priestess Archæsis’ findings the day prior.

“Not originally, no! But earlier today, something absolutely incredible happened! You see, we had another rally in the cafeteria, and during it, an animal trainer was brought in and he had with him a baby Petal-scaled Dragon!” Latté began to elaborate.

“Wait, What?!” Uni blurted, genuinely not expecting what Latté had said.

“I know, right?! Anyway, even crazier than the dragon just being there in general - Lord Doom assimilated it into the Black Arms!! Right there on stage!! And when he did so, I felt a tingling sensation on my back, surging through my wings! Next thing I knew, my wings had grown like three times in size!!” Latté continued.

“Woah…” Uni uttered - she had no idea what else to say. 

She felt so incredibly happy to be alive and with Latté again, and was admittedly very intrigued by the grand tales Latté was telling her, but she still felt incredibly uneasy over the whole situation. She understood deep down that to become a Black Arms was just simply her fate at this point, but she still felt an attachment to the life she had lived thus far. She had spent her whole life living to the expectations of Madam Moonshine and those under her rule, she had imagined herself being loyal to Moonshine for the rest of her days. But now… well, that wasn’t going to be the case, it would seem.

Having some closure would be nice. Some understanding as to what really happened to Moonshine. The remaining parts of her stuck in the past still wanted to believe that she was still alive, but Uni was beginning to come to terms with the idea that she really was dead.

Besides, wouldn’t Moonshine being alive make things worse rather than better? If she was alive, then why wasn’t she speaking to any of the clergy, not even Archæsis? Why would she essentially leave Uni for dead, the reason she’s still alive now solely being because of the Black Arms rather than because of her?

Uni needed some time to deal with it.

For now, she was content with just being with Latté.

“Hey, I know this might sound… Silly, but-” Uni began to speak again.

“Who cares if it does? I just like hearing you say things.” Latté interjected lovingly.

“... Your wings are kind of hot, actually.” Uni revealed, making Latté’s face a bit green.

“Is that so? Why don’t I just wrap you up in them, then!!” Latté replied teasingly, tackling Uni as her two giant wings wrapped around Uni’s body.

“You fool, that’s what I wanted you to do! You’ve fallen for my trap!” Uni remarked playfully, to which both of the girls giggled.

As Uni enjoyed Latté’s loving embrace, she began to overhear a conversation nearby.

“That was a risky maneuver, Rehkloos. Whether or not you thought it was justified, you at least need to admit that.” One voice said, masculine and intentionally tough sounding, but also still pubescent.

“Risky is deeply underselling it. And, to be blunt, it was not justified. What did I just say to you and Latté earlier today about not killing kids?” Another voice chimed in, this one more androgynous sounding. 

Latté seemed to hear the conversation too, and got up to try to see where it was coming from.

“Oh, good… Vladmira and Death managed to rescue Rehkloos…” Latté said with relief.

“... I wonder if the others made it too…” Uni muttered, getting up as well. Though she had always cared at least a little bit about the members of Mini Mayhem, despite the trouble they would cause her, the day’s events made her feel quite attached to them. 

“Well, I saw Kæ’Mirah safe and sound just before I was sent out to go get you, so I bet she's alright.” Latté testified. “... Not sure about Kuel and Katrien though…”

“They had left the building just before you arrived.” Uni explained.

“... I see.” Latté replied, unable to hide the fact that she was worried as well.

Looking out in front of her, Uni saw Rehkloos alive and well for herself, with Vladmira and Death on each side of her. She looked quite remorseful, probably partly due to the chastising that Vladmira and Death were understandably giving her.

Though, Uni did also catch a glimpse of something that was behind the three of them, and shifting her view slightly, she managed to make out what it was that she was seeing. A Petal-scaled Dragon, in the flesh, fully grown as well, from the looks of it.

“I… I thought you said the one you brought in was a baby…!” Uni exclaimed in awe.

“O-Oh! That’s… That’s not the one that we brought in…” Latté revealed.

“Huh??” Uni turned to Latté, completely confused. “Then where did-?!” As Uni turned back towards the scene playing out before her, she and Latté witnessed something even more unexpected than the presence of a random adult dragon. The two of them watched as the “dragon’s” form began to change and shift, eventually revealing it’s true identity as the mysterious, god-like being that lead the Black Arms, which now, finally, Uni had a name to give to him, feeling the information shoot right into her from what she figured now was the Black Arms hivemind. The one and only Black Doom.

“... Huh. I had no idea that he could actually control the shapeshifting thing.” Latté remarked with surprise.

“It makes enough sense to me. If he’s able to shapeshift unintentionally, then shapeshifting intentionally shouldn’t be that much harder.” Uni speculated.

“I forgot that you knew about that.” Latté stated, looking slightly shocked.

“I figured. It’s not the most remarkable for only one god to give the most insignificant crumbs of information to Archæsis to then regurgitate to us.” Uni admitted, deciding to lay back down, though this time on Latté’s lap.

“... Makes me wonder if they’re even going to try to look for Lord Doom, or if they think that we’re not gonna do enough damage to warrant imprisoning him again!” Latté said out of the blue.

“... Again?” Uni echoed, curious.

“Yeah - from what I remember being told, before he came here to PetalBloom, Lord Doom was in charge of “stabilizing” the chaos energy in the universe - by “stabilizing” they more meant “getting rid of”, which basically forced him to stay in his chambers all day every day, and he wasn’t allowed to ever leave to Pantheon’s Plane - the only reason why they’re even here now is because another god used an ability called “Chaos Control” to warp him onto our planet!” Latté explained. “I’d say that’s pretty prison-like!”

“... And Moonshine knew about that?” Uni asked, feeling rather concerned by the thoughts her words implied.

“Most definitely! She was the one who made him in the first place!” Latté answered.

Suffice to say, Uni was appalled by what she was hearing. The actions attributed to Moonshine in the tale Latté retold certainly didn’t sound like the gentle-and-caring-but-also-a-little-strict persona that Uni had been raised to see Moonshine as. In fact, the only thing that seemed to be true according to such tales would be strict, though it was certainly not just a “little bit”. It made her angry, angry that everyone had lied to her all these years. Maybe joining the Black Arms wouldn’t be so bad after all.

“While you two are certainly correct, I must ask that you give Rehkloos some mercy… I can sense a deep instability within her.” Uni overheard Doom say to Vladmira and Death. “I will talk to her later. For now, allow her to calm herself and be grateful for her continued life.” He added.

“Can’t you just talk to her now? She’s right here.” Death questioned.

“I very much could, but I believe that there is something else that needs my attention first… Someone else, you might say.” Doom responded.

Uni turned over while still laying down to see where Doom would go, her curiosity piqued. As she did, she realized that where Doom was going was actually towards Latté and herself.

When Uni realized this, she started to get up and try to make herself look presentable, but Doom told her that she could stay right where she was, he just wanted to get to know her more and make her feel at home. It caught Uni off guard, but she complied.

“Though, first, I would feel it rude of me to not commend you on just how quickly you took action when the call came to you, Latté.” Doom began.

“Well of course! I don’t know what I’d do with myself if I lost Uni…” Latté responded. 

“... Yeah, same here.” Uni agreed.

“I figured as much, given how you just kept trying to find me..!” Latté surmised. “Sorry for leaving like that, by the way… I know I said that I wouldn’t, but-”

“No, I get it now… You had things to do and you were worried that if you told me then I’d try to stop you or tattle on you… It’s a reasonable assumption to make.” Uni said assuringly.

“I can tell that you two have a very close bond with one another…” Doom pointed out, to which both Latté and Uni’s faces began to blush in response to.

“We’ve been friends for a really long time even before we started dating!” Latté exclaimed.

“Latté was the only person I’ve ever trusted with my secrets…” Uni added softly.

“Well then, I am glad to see you two reunited, then.” Doom replied.

“Thank you for making it happen.” Uni stated suddenly.

“Hmm?” Doom wondered curiously.

“Latté told me it was the introduction of a baby Petal-scaled Dragon into the Black Arms that caused the enhancement of her wings to the point of being able to fly with them… She also said that such was your idea, right?” Uni elaborated.

“That is what I said.” Latté confirmed.

“Yes, that was mostly my idea. An animal trainer from the capital had been brought into the hivemind last week during the rally at the plaza - he and his wife had come to Riverbed after hearing some rumors about us back home. When I noticed this, I began to discuss ideas of expanding our connection and power to the animals they cared for. We ended up settling on the baby dragon for now, but this is by no means the end to such experimentation.” Doom explained.

“Well thank you for that.” Uni reiterated, holding out her hand for a handshake.

“You are quite welcome, young one.” Doom replied, accepting Uni’s offer.

“... I think I’ve come to terms with my fate.” Uni said, still holding Doom’s hand.

“In what sense?” Doom wondered.

“Between what I’ve heard from Latté and the distance I’ve felt all my life, I realize now that Moonshine would never dare be so openly kind and loving as you have been in just this little moment. You prove yourself to be someone worth following, Lord Black Doom.” Uni concluded.

Latté audibly gasped, clearly being unable to contain her excitement.

“YAAAAAAY!!! UNI’S A BLACK ARMS NOW!!!!!” She cheered as she tackled Uni to the ground with a hug.

“Huhuhuhu… I think it is safe to call this meeting of ours a success~!” Doom exclaimed with pride.

“I agree… And at the very least with me being brought in, I’ll have an easier time making sure the Mini Mayhem members are alright.” Uni remarked.

“My… What a selfless way of looking at things…!” Doom noted.

“Yeah! That’s exactly the Uni I know!” Latté added.

“... Thank you, both of you…” Uni replied, her face green and eyes watery.

“But before we part ways, there is one last thing we must do.” Doom then said. Uni was confused and curious as to what he could be talking about, but Latté cut off her chance to speak.

“Oh, right! Do you need me to be out of the way?” She vaguely inquired.

“Not at all. The more comfortable Uni is, the better…” Doom responded.

After the short meeting with Black Doom, it was decided that it became late enough into the night to have Latté and Uni not go back to their respective homes. Instead, the both of them along with Mocha, the members of Mini Mayhem, and some other miscellaneous Black Arms - such as the one who provided the baby Petal-scaled Dragon that was brought into the hivemind during the night’s festivities, went to Lillian’s cabin to stay for the rest of the night.

When morning came, some of the Black Arms being housed in the cabin were given errands to run. Even little Mocha was given something to do. But Latté and Uni were not a part of such activities, as the leaders had decided that after everything that the two had been through this past week, they deserved a break. And so, the morning came and went, the two spending their time together in one of the hammocks that were in the process of being put up about the cabin. When Uni first awoke, she had insisted on wanting to do something, feeling obligated to, probably because of the pressure put on her all her life, or out of gratitude for her life being saved the night prior, or even both. But Latté relayed to her what she had been told by the leaders.

Rest.

Which managed to convince her. Hell, eventually, Uni ended up just going right back to sleep!

Just as the afternoon had begun, Lillian came by the two of them, looking to strike up a conversation.

“Tell me… Is the hammock treating you two well?” Lillian inquired.

“I’d certainly say so! And I bet Uni would too, given how she not only slept through the night in it, but has gone back to sleep still in it!” Latté answered enthusiastically.

“Oh well isn’t that just wonderful to hear?” Lillian remarked. 

She then handed Latté a newspaper.

“What’s this?” Latté asked.

“A newspaper, have you never seen one before?” Lillian replied teasingly.

“No no I’ve… I’ve seen newspapers before..!” Latté assured between giggles. “I guess I was just wondering why you’re handing this to me.”

“I figured that you might have been getting bored up there all alone. I mean, you don’t even have your girlfriend to talk to, since she’s asleep.” Lillian explained.

“Oh! That makes sense.” Latté figured.

Looking at the newspaper, Latté noticed that just like during previous stunts of theirs, the front page story was about the Black Arm’s escapades. But there was something a bit different about this article compared to the others, for as Latté read it for herself, she came to realize that the writer spoke quite positively about the Black Arms in this article! After she read the article, Latté went to see who it was that wrote it.

Endrose Ræa.

Ræa…

That name sounded familiar, but not to Latté. She could feel through the hivemind that for whom it was familiar to was actually Uni, but couldn’t exactly access why.

"Hey, Miss Lillian, did we bring a journalist into the hivemind by chance?" Latté wondered.

"I think so, why do you ask?" Lillian responded as she was nearby in the kitchen, chopping up some vegetables.

"The article about us in today's paper is positive!" Latté exclaimed, displaying the newspaper outside of the hammock for Lillian to see.

Intrigued by Latté's claims, Lillian went back over to her and Uni's hammock to read the article for herself.

"Well I'd say, you're absolutely right, Latté!" Lillian remarked with pleasant surprise. "I should get more of these for the rest of the hive! Or at least the rest of us leaders."

"I could… Do that for you… Miss…" Uni muttered out in a half asleep state.

"No no, you were told to rest! You and Latté! I'll do it myself." Lillian insisted.

"Hi Uni! Sorry if Miss Lillian and I woke you up." Latté said as Uni laid back down.

"It's… fine…" Uni tiredly replied with a yawn.

"Oh hey! Miss Lillian! Before you go!" Latté called.

"Yes?" Lillian replied.

"Uni was wondering last night if the members of Mini Mayhem aside from Rehkloos were alright… Do you have any info on that?" Latté asked, her tone becoming more serious.

"They are all alive, that I do know." Lillian answered.

"Oh thank goodness…" Latté sighed in relief. She could feel Uni be relieved as well.

"Kæ'Mirah is out running an errand right now, actually. As for Kuel and Katrien… They are unconscious, knocked out by the blast. It might take them a few days to wake back up. And they did sustain some injuries - of which we're not sure yet. Right now we have some doctors that we managed to bring into the hive taking care of them." Lillian elaborated somberly.

"Just like… Kuel's brother…" Uni stated quietly.

"... Please know that we did not intend this outcome…" Lillian told the two, trying to comfort them.

"I know… I just hope they… recover…" Uni replied.

Feeling bad about the situation, Latté turned over in the hammock to embrace Uni, handing the newspaper back to Lillian.

As Latté got closer to Uni, she began to hear someone speaking in the hivemind once again.

“Hey, is this by chance a bad time?” It sounded like Widow was the one talking. 

Heh, what are the chances? Latté gets to overhear a conversation involving Widow twice in a row!

“Are… Are you talking to me?” And the other person speaking was… Uni? This is sure to be interesting.

“Yeah, I was hoping to, anyway.” Widow admitted.

“I don’t think us having a conversation would breach the assignment I was given. Go right ahead.” Uni responded.

“I mean, I figured as much, since I’m one of the leaders who gave you the orders to rest.” Widow remarked light-heartedly. “Anyways, I was just interested in coming up with a costume change for you.” 

“A… Costume change…?” Uni echoed with confusion.

“What you’re wearing currently looks pretty battered up from what you went through yesterday… And besides, it’s a nice way to show off the new chapter of your life that you’ve begun.” Widow explained.

“... Yes, I think I’ve noticed that! You yourself as well as the other Black Arms leaders had a change of outfits in the days after the Plaza Rally, right?” Uni recollected, now seeming to understand the concept that Widow was attempting to relay.

“Indeed! And they were all done by yours truly!” Widow replied proudly.

“Were they now? I think I do remember hearing about such passions of yours over the years…” Uni testified.

“Right…! Goodness me, with everything else going on, I nearly forgot that we’ve known each other for quite a while now!” Widow admitted.

“... For me, I think I’m thinking of having myself something relatively similar to my old usual outfit… But also a bit inspired by the outfit you made for Vladmira.” Uni requested of Widow after having a moment to think about her choice.

“Really?” Widow responded, surprised, though not unpleasantly so.

“... I know, you probably figured I hated them…” Uni awkwardly acknowledged.

“Ehhhhh…” Widow reacted, clearly not wanting to give away what she actually had thought.

“I had certainly convinced myself that I did.” Uni stated. “I mean, I also convinced myself that I disliked you, but I really went in hard with it on Vladmira. It began as a desire to not be associated with the two of you, as you two had a reputation of being “cursed” and “wicked”. I wanted to stay in good standing with my family and the church, so I did everything I could to separate myself from you, from them. But then Latté joined the Riverbed Choir… And while she was there, she met Vladmira and became friends with them… I was deeply jealous… But I was also incredibly paranoid. I was afraid that if Latté stayed friends with Vladmira while I was dating her, that all the effort I had put into making me look “better” than them would go to waste, and I would be shunned as well… Perhaps even abandoned completely, like how Archæsis did with Vladmira… I even started to worry that such things would happen to Latté too… So I antagonized them even further, not just for my sake anymore, but for what I thought was Latté’s own good…” She explained in detail. “But now I look back on that behavior and I… I hate myself for it… The both of you have been so kind to me… And Latté didn’t deserve me trying to make her stop being friends with Vladmira… She told me last night just how much Vladmira helped her in trying to get me back… I want to return the favor. I want to be their friend too, just like Latté. I figured that having similar outfits would be a start.”

As Uni finished speaking, Widow hugged her gently. Latté, feeling the tenderness of the hug and being moved by Uni’s words, began to tear up a little, the sounds of her choking on her tears being heard by Uni and Widow.

“L-Latté…! Have you been… listening this whole time…?” Uni asked, tearing up as well.

“Uhm… Y-yeah, it’s just kinda something that happens to me…” Latté answered skittishly.

“You must be exceptionally good at tuning into the hivemind, then…! It makes sense, given your circumstances over the past week!” Widow pointed out with intrigue.

“Yeah… Uh, one of those times I heard things from the hivemind may or may not have been when you and Sen talked about her feelings for you, by the way.” Latté admitted.

“... I… Okay.” Widow reacted, not knowing how to respond to that, it would seem. “Do you want a costume change too, Latté?” She then asked, changing the subject.

“Sure! I uh, don’t really know what it would be yet, but I’ll let you know if I come up with anything!” Latté answered.

“Anyway, back to what you were saying, Uni… I will let Vladmira know about how you really feel, okay? I mean, I’m sure they’d understand… We all had shitty parents like that, and the church is no better.” Widow said. “And on the topic of admitting things…” She continued, “I was kind of jealous of how you were allowed to become a girl as a kid when I wasn’t, I won’t lie… But I was naive back when I had those feelings. As I grew up, and watched you grow too, I noticed just how strict the barriers that your folks made your identity be really were… and instead of being jealous… I just felt bad for you. Sure, the outcomes were different, but in theory, the expectations put onto us weren’t all that different. And in the end, I ended up just wishing so badly that you would realize that… That you would fight back… Because I felt like you deserved to.” 

“... I will. I will fight back. That’s my promise to you.” Uni pledged.

“Thank you.” Widow muttered.

“... How about tonight? I know you told me to rest, but-” Uni began to speak again after releasing herself from the hug that she and Widow had been in.

“For what?” Widow asked.

“To fight back… To get my revenge for all the years my parents controlled me and my identity.” Uni clarified. “I’m starting to come up with ideas.”

“Oh, I see…! I’ll ask the others what they think, but I personally am not against the idea.” Widow replied. “Mind sharing what those ideas of yours are?”

“Yeah! I wanna hear them too!” Latté chimed in, excited for what Uni had in store.

“Well, since you both asked so nicely…”

As day began to shift into night, the Bishop household was quite busy, as the parental figures of the home were quickly preparing a last minute celebratory dinner - excited to see their daughter Uni finally return home safely, accompanied by her darling girlfriend and her girlfriend’s sister.

They had become worried sick for Uni when she didn’t come home the day prior, asking Priestess Waning to go out and search for the girl. Latté and Mocha’s parents were deeply worried as well, from what Uni’s parents relayed. Their usually very busy father actually came home for once to support his terrified wife in this time of need, telling his work that he would not be returning until his daughters came home. 

And now they were home - that’s what Uni’s parents said. After this dinner, they would send Latté and Mocha home to their likely overjoyed parents.

But Uni’s parents had been worried about the two as well, and they wanted to take this moment to celebrate the girls’ return.

Just as Uni had expected they would.

“Will the Priestess be joining us tonight?” Uni asked as her mother was setting the plates at the dinner table. “You did mention her going out to find me, so surely you let her know that I’m back home now, right?”

“Oh, I did find her back when I went out after you three arrived!” Uni’s mother replied, “She was so happy to hear that you three were safe. But she unfortunately had to turn down the offer to join us for dinner. She had gotten a summons by the mayor of Lunar High-Rise up north while she was out looking for you - she had been delaying her response to it so she could keep searching, but when I told her that you had come home, she finally allowed herself to start packing for the trip.”

“Oh… That’s quite the shame… I would have loved to see her off!” Uni lamented. “Do you know why she was asked to travel up north?” She then asked.

“She told me that apparently this awful problem we’ve been having here with those rioters has started to spread into other towns and cities…” Uni’s mother somberly explained.

“Oh dear…! Well, even if she can’t be here tonight, I still give her my sincerest wishes of luck while dealing with this whole mess…” Uni responded, mimicking her mother’s sadness.

“It’s probably for the best that she isn’t here, anyways…” Latté added.

“What… exactly do you mean by that, Latté?” Uni’s father asked, Latté’s connections to the Black Arms probably still lingering in the back of both his mind and the mind of Uni’s mother - for she too looked a bit concerned by Latté’s words. 

“What she probably means is that… It’s better that she’s attending to whatever the situation is over there. Better to act early, and all that.” Uni reasoned.

Uni’s parents looked a little unsure of Uni’s explanation, but they decided to roll with it.

Once the plates of food had all been placed at the table, everyone took their seats and gave a united prayer of thanks to Madam Moonshine. Part of Uni wanted to chuckle, considering how she knew now that Moonshine would never hear the words she spoke. But to maintain her ruse, she kept such a desire at bay, and carried on with the prayer until its end.

What Uni’s parents had made for dinner on this night was not very extravagant, which made sense given the short notice. Just fish fillet and vegetables, a very common meal in the Riverbed Town. The star of the meal, however, was instead the beverage served alongside it - a special blend of tea prepared by none other than Uni herself. 

As everyone chowed down on the meal after prayer, Uni made sure to keep her eye out for just how much of the tea her parents were having. She noticed that her father was drinking significantly more rapidly than her mother was. On the other side of things, however, Uni’s parents didn’t seem to notice how Uni nor Latté or even Mocha had taken so much as a sip of their cups of tea.

“So, Uni… How did you end up finding Latté and Mocha, anyways? You took quite the time doing so…” Uni’s mother eventually inquired.

“Oh dear me, it certainly was quite the adventure! One that I just don’t think we’d have the time for me to tell in full, I’m afraid.” Uni replied.

“Don’t be ridiculous! No one here is in any rush! There’s really no reason for you to feel that way-” Uni’s mother tried to insist, but Uni cut her off.

“Oh no, no, I’m quite sure I remembered you two having an appointment with Madam Moonshine later, surely!” Uni argued, which seemed to cause the confusion likely already stirring within her mother to come up to the surface.

“A-A meeting with Madam Moonshine? What ever could you mean by that, Uni??” Her mother questioned, a bit of panic slipping into her voice.

Before Uni could answer, the sound of the head of Uni’s father slamming into the dinner table resounded throughout the room.

Uni watched with morbid fascination as her mother attempted to awaken her husband - then realizing in her attempt that he no longer had a pulse. Her panic becoming much stronger now, Uni’s mother desperately begged Uni’s father to wake up, to not leave her side like this, as she struggled to grasp the reality of her husband’s sudden demise. But soon, a realization seemed to come to her, as she then turned to Uni with a horrified expression.

“No… No…! You… You couldn’t have…!” Uni’s mother begged, failing to truly comprehend the current situation.

“But I did, didn't I?” Uni replied simply, maintaining a smile.

“Why…? Why would you do this- Don’t you realize what you’ve done???” Uni’s mother wailed out hopelessly. Did she really not understand what has happened? What was happening at this very moment? To be so lost felt so strange to Uni. It was almost like through Uni’s perspective, that her mother’s mind existed in a different realm of consciousness from her own, an inferior realm, compared to her own. The concept captured her curiosity, making her wonder what the cause of this separation could be. Perhaps Lord Doom would know the answer.

But Uni would have to save those thoughts for later, as she did not want to lose the only chance she has at savoring her vengeance against the ones who controlled her all her life.

For now she was in control. Not of their lives, per say… But rather, of their deaths.

“Have… Have you…?” Uni’s mother muttered out, her body struggling to keep itself going as the toxins from the tea took hold.

“What else would it be, mother? I’m surprised you hadn’t even considered the idea. I was away for a whole day and a half, looking for two individuals who you knew were sworn into their hivemind… Was it really not obvious that they had taken me too?” Uni answered her, locking eyes with her mother, watching the life fade out from her mother’s eyes. “Or was it that… You perhaps, in some part of your mind… Actually considered it? But the rest of you was not ready for such a revelation? You were unequipped to face the corruption of your sweet beloved daughter… So you, consciously or not, forced yourself to remain ignorant… Heheheheheheh…. How ironic, isn’t it? That you act this way… Despite treating me as if I was already corrupt my whole life, no matter how much I tried to prove I wasn’t? Well, now I am. I’m your corrupted little girl… Are you happy now, mother?”

Uni’s mother tried and tried to speak, to respond to Uni’s words. But everything that came out was incomprehensible, the toxins and Uni’s betrayal seeming to quite literally break her mind. The sight brought much delight to Uni, as well as Latté and Mocha. Uni was able to have her revenge, and her parents - or at the very least her mother, was able to experience chaos through means of utter madness before she met her demise. A win in every aspect.

But soon enough, the last bit of life finally left Uni’s mother, and she, just like her husband, slumped in her chair and let her face fall onto the dinner table, her body without a single heartbeat.

As the tension from Uni’s reveal settled, Uni looked upon the lifeless corpses of her parents, fixated upon them, almost.

“What’re ya thinking about?” Latté asked her.

“... Do you think that in their last bits of coherent thought… Despite my own words… That they still referred to me in their minds as their son?” Uni pondered.

“Knowing them… They probably did.” Latté replied.

“Hmph… Then this fate of theirs was exactly what they deserved, that much is certain.” Uni stated.

Latté nodded, but then spoke again soon after.

“I just wish it could have been… Bloodier.” She admitted.

“I understand that, I really do. And in hindsight, it would seem I did not have much need for this way of doing things after all… But you know very well the reason why I had chosen this method.” Uni reminded her. “While I might not have the plans completely worked out just yet, I do wish to help Vladmira get their revenge on Archæsis when the time does come for that… And for what I have planned currently to work, I would need Archæsis to trust me still.”

“I know, I know! I’m just really craving some guts right now…” Latté elaborated slightly.

“Goodness me, dear Latté… Isn’t that rather selfish of you~? This is my first time doing something like this, and all you can think about is how much gorier you wish it would have been~?” Uni chastised her playfully, wrapping Latté into her arms.

“It’s not like that, I swear! I-I just-” Latté attempted to stammer out an argument in her defense as her face began to glow green.

“I’m just teasing you, my love…~” Uni reassured Latté, playing with her hair ever so tenderly. “But if your bloodlust is truly so insatiable… I’m sure your parents would just love it if we stopped by~.” She then proposed.

“Oooh, that’s a great idea!” Latté replied joyfully.

“Can I come too?” Mocha asked.

“Of course! It’d be rude of us to leave you out!” Latté answered her, Uni nodding in agreement.

“But first… Let us please savor this moment, my sweet Latté~...” Uni requested, pulling Latté in for a kiss on the lips.

Latté fulfilled Uni’s request, reciprocating the tender moment.

Case 01 CLOSED

-☆☆☆-

“Wooo!! Yeah!! Everybody give it up for Uni and Latté reuniting within the Black Arms!!” Garrick commanded excitedly. Seeing no reason to not comply with the young prince’s order, everyone else currently congregated gave their applause.

As the applause was happening, Eclipse stood up and seemed ready to return to their work, but stopped themself when they heard the sound of Shadow sniffling.

“Are you alright?” They asked her with concern.

“Oh… Y-yeah… Just emotional over the story again…” Shadow assured them, wiping away her tears.

“What’s got ya this time, hun?” Rouge inquired teasingly, though still rather sincerely.

“What… What Uni said towards the end there, about how she pushed mom and Vladmira away to look good in the eyes of those who had dictated her life… It… It really resonated with me…” Shadow admitted, its eyes watering up again as they spoke.

“Oh come here you…!” Eclipse said as they pulled Shadow into a tender hug.

“And you got better, just like Uni did!” Garrick pointed out, which really seemed to make Shadow feel better.

“I guess I did… Didn’t I?” Shadow replied.

“Considering we’ve reached the end of this part of the story, we can take a five minute break if you want some time to pull yourself back together, Shadow.” Widow suggested.

“Oh, you really don’t have to do that for me-” Shadow tried to object, but was interrupted by a rather familiar voice.

“No no, I think that would be rather good for you, don’t you think?” In the spot where Leanni once sat, Yuki now stood, its shared body having shifted back into its default form, and now wearing Yuki’s signature navy blue face mask, decorated with dark gray spikes on each cheek, just as it had always been.

“O-oh, okay..!” Shadow obliged, her face a very vibrant shade of green.

“Shall we get some drinks from the communal fridge in the energy chambers? I could certainly go for a can of ginger ale right about now.” Yuki suggested.

“Oh, I think I’m heading that way anyways, why don’t I go get them for you two?” Eclipse chimed in.

“Are you sure, you’d have to come all the way back here - wouldn’t that time be better spent working on Rouge and Relic’s assimilation pods?” Shadow questioned.

“... Have you not considered that I could just use Chaos Control to teleport back here? Or even just teleport the cans themselves?” Eclipse responded incredulously.

“... Wait.” Shadow spoke, the realization registering in her mind. “... Oh yeah.” She added with embarrassment. 

Yuki couldn't help but chuckle a bit at the situation - something that several others joined him in on.

"Oh, wait! I just remembered! I had something to tell you about!" Shadow suddenly exclaimed.

"Tell me through the hivemind. That way I can easily store it within the databases for later." Eclipse responded as they prepared to take off.

"That's quite a smart idea of yours, I must say…!" Widow remarked.

"Thank you, Madam Widow." Eclipse replied.

"I agree! This is something you'd probably want to have documented, honestly." Shadow noted.

"Well then, you shouldn't waste anymore time stalling! Tell me every detail of what you've had in mind." Eclipse instructed.

As Eclipse began to travel back to their laboratory on the opposite end of the Aerth Temple, and Shadow and Yuki began to get themselves seated back in the area that everyone else was still congregated in, Shadow began to lay out the plan she and several others had devised earlier that night to take over Starlight City to Eclipse through the hivemind. Even from a distance, Widow could see that at some point, Eclipse had stopped walking, clearly incredibly intrigued by Shadow's ideas.

"Lord Doom Almighty, how did I not pick up on this when you all first discussed this??" Eclipse questioned with awe over the hivemind.

"Must've been so absorbed in your work that you just didn't hear it! Sounds like something you'd do!" Harazuki suggested an answer quite teasingly.

"Oh quiet you…" Eclipse sneered, everyone being able to tell that they were absolutely rolling their eyes at that moment despite the distance.

"Well it's good that you're hearing about it now, isn't it?" Relic chimed in, to which everyone else agreed.

"Yes! Shadow! Everyone! This plan you have plotted is quite brilliant, honestly!! If we are to use anywhere to rebuild our once great army, why shouldn't it be a city with "Star" in the name?! And besides, I'd like to think that I've already made a start on something akin to this! You all are aware of the fact that I've already assimilated the Starlight City Militia, yes?" Eclipse continued on with enthusiasm.

"Oh yes, that's right! What a useful bit of leverage!" Relic recollected.

"And my most recent work will do wonders in keeping off that foolish Doctor, too!" Eclipse added.

"Ooh! Ooh! And for the rally, we could attract a crowd by having Roses & Renegades play a show beforehand!" Shadow suggested.

"Well aren't you three being quite productive right now…?" Doom remarked, a sense of admiration coming from his voice.

"I'd certainly say so!" Eclipse responded.

"Goodness, this reminds me of when we would plan out the rallies on PetalBloom!" Widow pointed out, her comment clearly making Shadow feel very proud of herself.

"I concur…" Doom added, contributing to Shadow's sense of pride, which seemed to start rubbing off onto the other members of the hive.

"Yippee!! We're gonna make the Black Arms a big name once more, just like those before us!!" Garrick cheered.

"Oh! This actually has me thinking of something of a prelude into the next part of the story!" Widow said suddenly. "We can still take our little break, but may I tell that first?" She then asked everyone.

"I say yes!!" Garrick answered.

"I'd love that!" Shadow agreed.

"You are the one telling the story, your majesty." Yuki remarked.

"As you had said before yourself…" Doom added.

"Of course, I would love to listen in as I make my way back to the lab. Just let me make sure our plans are not forgotten…!" Eclipse responded.

! One new item added to the Black Arms Information Inventory under "Future Plans" !

"There! You now have the floor, Madam!" Eclipse concluded.

"Thank you very much!" Widow replied cheerfully.

-☆☆☆-

It had been about a week since the rally at the schoolhouse. With how hectic the week following the plaza’s rally had been with so many newly recruited Black Arms taking shelter at Lillian’s place after having abandoned their old residences for whatever reasons they may have had - most of the time it was that they had killed their resistant caretakers, the past week’s focus was to truly expand the Black Arms’ presence beyond the Riverbed Town. Sure, they had already attracted some folks from other towns and cities, but the people from there had to come to Riverbed to be with their brethren in arms, which was the root of the problem as far as overcrowding goes.

Slowly but surely, the Black Arms that had emigrated from other towns moved back to their old residences to spread the hivemind’s influence. A good lot of the Black Arms that were native to the Riverbed Town were also traveling to other places, too. They had come to understand that the cabin was becoming too crowded and desired to help clear out the space, as well as hoped that they could spread the hivemind into parts of PetalBloom that were still untouched by its metaphorical tendrils.

Eventually, the cabin had become a lot more habitable, with only about a dozen members left living in the cabin, not including the leaders that were in there as well - all but Death and Tsunami.

But it was still kind of crowded, at least to Sendrir’s liking.

Despite being constantly made to do such labor all her life by her now late father, Sendrir found herself usually in the kitchen helping Lillian with cooking and/or cleaning. It kept her away from the crowd, at least. Though it also kept her away from her friends and her girlfriend most of the time, which did bum her out. She could tell that they could tell it did, but what were they to do? She figured that she’d just have to wait it out til the last of the non leaders found a place to be other than the cabin.

But for now, she was in the kitchen, cleaning the dishes from the most recent meal. While she was fortunately not too closely reminded of her childhood, she still was a bit bored. So she decided to pass the time by eavesdropping on whatever it was that was happening this time in the living room.

“I was told that it should be any day now that he wakes up, but I just couldn’t stand to see you so upset for days on end like that… So I figured I’d bring you here.” The voice of a man said in a comforting tone.

“I… Thank you… But I’m still… I still feel lost.” The voice of another man, noticeably younger than the first, responded.

“Heh… Sorry ‘bout that, kiddo.” The older man apologized.

“So what does this all mean…? Are you… one of them?” The younger man questioned the older one.

“You’re in a room with several of us, buddy.” A bystander remarked.

“O-oh, um, right. Sorry…” The young man muttered with guilt. “... Is he one of you?”

“Partially. Though even that partial introduction into his body and mind is irreversible.” The older man explained.

“And why should I trust you on that matter? I mean, other than because you’re my boss. How can you possibly have an unbiased viewpoint?” The younger man argued.

“Funny how you’re asking me such a question about this and not about the recent articles I’ve written.” The older man retorted.

“W-well-” The younger man was about to speak, but was interrupted.

“We’re just about ready to go!” A woman called out to one of the people in the room.

“Oh shit! Thanks, honey. I got distracted.” The bystander from before replied.

Shortly afterwards, Sendrir heard the door to the kitchen open. Not putting two together in her mind at first, she immediately lamented to herself about possibly getting an unwanted flirting with when she didn’t pick up the new presence as that of another Black Arms leader.

“No need to worry about that, Miss. I’m a married man!” But when the new person in the kitchen spoke, Sendrir recognized it to be the same voice as the bystander in the living room, and as she turned and saw the bystander for herself, her mind started finally connecting the dots.

“Well if it isn’t Ferosæ the Dragon Trainer?” She greeted him.

“That would be me, yes.” Ferosæ responded.

“So, was the woman I heard out there that wife of yours, then?” Sendrir inquired in a playful manner.

“Indeed she is! She’s just about ready to head back home to Lunar High-Rise!” Ferosæ answered.

“And I assume you’re going with her, right?” Sendrir asked, wanting to mess with the guy while also admittedly being relieved that the cabin was clearing up more.

“Of course!” Ferosæ replied. “Though we won’t be traveling alone, actually.” They then added.

“Is that so? Who’s coming with?” Sendrir queried.

“Lord Doom, Queen Widow, and you! The three of you will be staying in a hotel that us High-Rise Black Arms collectively funded!” Ferosæ explained quite casually, as if Sendrir wouldn’t be completely caught off guard by that answer.

“I’m sorry??? ME??? I-I’m going to Lunar High-Rise???” Sendrir reacted with absolute shock.

“No one told you? Like… Actually no one told you?? I thought you were doing a bit!” Ferosæ questioned, just as surprised.

Just like that, a memory of Doom talking to her about the trip a few days ago came to Sendrir’s mind.

“... I think I forgot.” Sendrir admitted.

“Hey, that happens to the best of us. I was supposed to tell you to get ready like thirty minutes ago but when I entered the living room to get here I ran into another Black Arms with an outsider and it caught my attention.” Ferosæ testified, clearly trying to kill two birds with one stone as he comforted Sendrir as he also explained his lateness.

“Well, we’ve got no time left to waste here talking then, don’t we? Come on, let’s get packing!” Sendrir told Ferosæ, setting down the cleaning supplies she had been using and heading off to where her stuff was.

“Yep! Got it!” Ferosæ uttered, following behind her.

In just a couple of minutes, Sendrir had gone from being bored out of her mind to incredibly excited. After all, she had never been anywhere outside of the Riverbed Town before!

[daybreak-tkler]

❝He's Alive!!❞

Lee(s): creation! Felix

Ler(s): alien! mad scientist! Hyunjin, alien! mad scientist! Minho

Small Synopsis: now that their creation has sprung to life and is like a baby chick after hatching, the two scientists decide to discover how much the creation can feel, they don't expect him to be so sensitive.

Frankenstein vibes, anybody?

It's the chilling night of October 31st on a planet near our solar system. In a laboratory on the planet, a dastardly plan takes place. It's cold, dark but not unhomely. Within the laboratory's testing chamber, a wicked laugh echoes out into the night. "He's finished, finally," one voice chortles. "It's taken,, at least an eon," a second one agrees. Doctor Hyunjin and Doctor Minho are two scientists of alien kind, attempting to recreate the human life form on their own planet's surface. Strapped to the chair in the centre of the lab was a resting male, adult in stature with blonde hair brighter than light rays with the sun's very own kisses adorning his face. "He looks beautiful, perhaps too beautiful to be human," Hyunjin murmurs, fiddling with the long strands of his hair that had been tied back.

Their kind is similar to the human race, with small changes and tweaks. their skin tone is a light purple and they breathe carbon dioxide as opposed to oxygen. Their IQs are much higher than a human could even comprehend. Minho, Hyunjin's lab partner, chuckles "Perhaps so,, luckily he's made by us,, he's not technically human," he reminds his co-worker. Hyunjin nods slowly "So, shall we finally bring him into existence?" he asks, excitement bubbling in his throat. He pulls a pair of goggles that sit neatly on his head down to cover his eyes as he steps over some cabling to approach a machine.

Minho nods his head adjusting his own goggles over his eyes before double checking the machine at the foot of the chair their creation was strapped to. Hyunjin's gloved hand hovers over a lever and he grasps it firmly, eyes glued to their creation. "On,, on the count of three, I'll pull it!" he states, voice brimming with happiness.

one.

two.

three!!

Hyunjin heaves the lever downwards and a spark of electricity zaps their creation's body. The creation jolts, squirms, his eyes fly open and he heaves deeply for air. "He's alive!!" Hyunjin yells with joy "He's alive!!!!!" he repeats. Minho claps his hands together in excitement as their creation's eyes flutter open and then closed and then open once more, raspy voice whispering out a "Where,, am I? Wh-Who am I?" in his state of confusion. It's endearing to the two aliens. "You're awake, our creation,, wait... that sounds really dumb," Hyunjin pouts as he lifts his goggles once more so they perch atop his head. "Let's call him,, a basic human name,,,, Felix, he looks like a Felix!" The younger alien chirps and his partner nods in agreement. "That's good, Felix - how do you feel?" Minho asks kindly, loosening the straps that held the created being to the table; not completely freeing him.

"Mm,, I feel,, alive. I can breathe, I can feel," Felix attempts to explain and Hyunjin nods. "Right, about feelings, we need to test exactly how much you can feel," he states before bringing up a chart. "You don't mind, do you? The sooner we figure this out, the sooner we can free you and test your reflexes," Minho tells the pale boy on the chair. Felix nods his head "I want to learn about myself too," he agrees easily. The oldest scientist pokes Felix's chest carefully and hums "Your heart beats, yes?" he asks calmly and their creation makes a small sound of affirmation. As Minho's fingers softly trail down to Felix's wrist to check his pulse, the blonde squeaks. "Hm, what was that noise?" Hyunjin queries as he steps closer. "Repeat what you just did," he urges and his lab partner obeys, pulling another squeak from their creation. Minho pokes Felix's bare side and grins "I see, I believe we've replicated human nerves by accident, shall we test?" he hums towards his coworker and Hyunjin eagerly nods. "Yes, let's, that noise was so cute,"

The freckled male squeaks a third time as both exposed sides are prodded and as Hyunjin's fingers wiggle up and down his left side he begins to feel a sensation he doesn't quite understand. "Eek! Ehehehhahaaaha!" Felix giggles, alerting the two scientists. "How curious, I didn't know the human body was this sensitive... or did we miss something?" Minho hums in confusion. "Does it matter?~ let's run a few more tests!" he suggests with a wicked smile. Minho reaches over to scribble his fingers over both of Felix's sides and Hyunjin gently begins to poke the creation's tummy. "Wahaahahahaait! Pleheh-Plehehehheeease! Hahahahhehheee!!"

The human recreation's reaction to the light sensation leaves the two scientists curious. Neither of them knew humans could be this sensitive, since neither of them have actually met a human before. They went purely off of images and files found by other planets to get to where they were now. The data files certainly were interesting,, they had based Felix's form on that of what humans call an "idol" whatever that meant.

Hyunjin tilts his head as his finger slips into Felix's belly button and softly scritches inside it, causing the blonde being's head to fall back and for unintelligible giggles to pour out. "W-Waihit- n-not- eAheheheheehahhaahhaa!! Ohohohohohoh! I cahahahaan't stohohop lahahaaughing!" he chortles out. Minho coos at their creation as his fingers gently poke and pluck at his exposed ribs. "He's so adorable, I think you were right, he's too beautiful to just be considered human," he says fondly as he teasingly wiggles his fingers in the gaps between Felix's ribs.

The blonde creation clenches his fists as the light sensation shoots through his body, cheeks flushing as the two scientists tease him for being so sensitive. "Awh, he's trying to squirm.. how sweet," Hyunjin smiles as he ticklishly pinches Felix's hips. "Does that make you laugh more, little creation?" he asks in a teasing manner, making Felix's laughter turn to silent squeals. "Awhh, his cheeks are all red, according to the human files that means he's embarrassed or shy,, isn't that the cutest?" Minho croons in a tone of saccharine, taking the pads of his fingertips and brushing them ever so lightly over the nape of Felix's neck. "Eeehehehehehahaa! Aahaha ihihihit's bahahahhaad!"

They give the blonde male a moment to breathe whilst Hyunjin looks over their data. "Aha! It says here,, "tickling is a sensation that causes the receiver to laugh, they can't control this reaction. Some people don't like being tickled, others enjoy it!" there's also a list of trading phrases and where most humans are sensitive! Let's check, shall we?" Hyunjin giggles as he approaches the chair again. Minho had adjusted the straps so that Felix's arms were above his head. "The data says that here is usually a good spot..." Hyunjin whispers in a taunting manner as his fingers slowly wiggle against Felix's underarm. "eEeeheee ohohohoh nohoho! Pl-Plehehehehease!" The blonde responds.

"It also says that the natural response is to beg to stop, but most don't actually mean that,," Hyunjin explains slowly as Minho repeats the same action on Felix's other underarm. "Tickle, tickle, tickle~ does that make you feel more sensitive?~" Hyunjin coos as Felix squirms in his seat, giggling uncontrollably at the two different feelings. The younger alien scientist slowly wiggling his fingers against his left underarm with the elder scientist speedily scratching his right. "Wahahahaahhahahh ohohoahahaahahee! I cahahahhaan't tahahhahaake thihihihis!"

Before Felix can even realize that what was going on, Hyunjin was by his bare feet and he wiggles. Somehow he can tell this will be bad. Hyunjin's index finger trails down his arch and he squeaks. He doesn't have time to focus on the light, teasing touches for long as he'd like because Minho's hands knead into his underarms. "Coochie coo~" Minho sings as Felix cackles cutely. "Nahahahahaha! Oho, ehehehhahahahaaa~! My feeehehheheheheeeet!!!!" he shrieks out. "My, my.. he's very very ticklish.." Hyunjin smirks as his fingers trace beneath Felix's toes.

They mercilessly "test" the sensitivity of Felix's body all whilst smiling "So cute," Hyunjin laughs as his fingers dance against the blonde creation's lower tummy. The freckled boy grows tired after a time and his laughter becomes silent. "Ah, I believe this is a good time to stop, Minho," Hyunjin hums as he switches to gently rubbing the sensation away from the skin. "This was fun, I think we have all the data we need but I want to try it again.." The younger scientist chuckles. "Please don't fall asleep yet, Felix, let me get you some of that H2O stuff humans consume and then we must test your reflexes!" Minho grins as he runs his fingers through Felix's hair whilst his lab partner undoes the straps tying him down to the chair. "Thank you," the little creation murmurs shyly.

[gholateg]

please think about why you can understand emet selch and empathise with him and not the ancient who was dark skinned. then off yourself LMAOOO

Hermes being tanned/black means fucking nothing nonnie.

Dead ass nothing.

He literally tried to end all of creation because he was in charge of cleaning out the pokeboxes at the lab and got sad about it. Nothing in fucking Elpis is alive, it's a holodeck made with Aether.

He made a bird daughter who was unable to eat, then ate candied apples in front of her so she could feed on how good it made him feel.

He made her so empathetic that just him being sad put her into a autistic-stereotype over-stimulation panic attack.

THEN MADE MORE OF HER, LINKED THEIR MINDS, AND SENT THEM ALONE INTO SPACE.

Then he called them back, and they all downloaded into Bird Daughter Prime who went into Cascade Failure and was screaming in pain so hard even fucking EMET felt bad for her.

And what did Hermes do? Did he show his love for his creation? Did he force a shut down to save her from the feedback loop of hundreds of sad birds crying directly into her mind?

He fucking grabbed her by the waist like a barbie doll and King Kong'ed his ass to the top of a tower so he could "Get his answers"

THEN, when his answers aren't what he wants to hear, he fucking mind rapes everyone in the room and let's his daughter in hive form go on to literately END EXISTENCE ENTIRE because his ass can't code a query correctly.

Him being Anime Brown has nothing to do with his piss poor ass actions. He could look like fucking Emet with the white on the other side and I'd still fucking think he was an irredeemable monster.

AND ANOTHER THING.

Hermes rejoined the life stream at one point and got his memories of that day back. THEN WATCHED AS EMET FORCED MORE REJOININGS. KNOWING DEAD-ASS FULL-WELL IT WOULDN'T SAVE THEM FROM BIRD DAUGHTER.

Emet did what he did to try and save his friends and the loves of his life from being stuck inside the god they created to try and save their world from utter destruction. For thousands of years mostly alone, with broken husks and shadows, he fought and did terrible things to right what he thought was wrong.

Then, when he found he lost, he took it on the chin like a champion and helped the WoL and crew to save his world their way, even if it cost him everything he ever loved.

Hermes just wanted everything dead and reveled in the destruction because he couldn't handle being fucking sad.

Fuck Hermes.

And fuck you.

[xfindingtrouble]

❝  your scars are nothing to be ashamed of.  ❞ for cass!

Today had been a strange day. Cassandra wouldn't call it bad, per say. Her worst days were spent locked in her study, pouring over seemingly endless paperwork to distract herself from a cloudy reality. She wasn't sure why it was so strange when she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Her eyes were still hers, as was her skin, but they did not quite feel like her. It had driven her to recede, to indulge in a bit of privacy... but her door was unlocked. She did not need to entirely sever herself from the world so much as she needed a moment alone.

She looked less & less like a ghost with every day, but she still felt like one. But there were still bits of her that showed she was still alive, her scars being one of them. They were a private testament to everything she had survived thus far & so she kept them to herself... perhaps, woven into this sentiment, was a certain fear. to persevere was to live long enough to deal with the fallout of survival. She was alive, yes, but at what cost? It was not a question she could afford to answer herself, not with her voice at least.

In each scar was a story she had not learned how to tell. At least not yet. Perhaps this is why she had peeled her gloves away, putting her quill to paper before her thoughts could ferment. There was something terribly grounding about the simple act of rolling up her sleeves & resting her elbow on a desk carved for her. It was difficult to transcend this distant discomfort. She may have stayed like this, consumed by the simple act of being. It was a personal kind of intimacy, one she was trying to process with each passing day. But when she hears a knock on her door, she is drawn back to reality. After nearly jumping out of her skin she calls for the intruder to

" Come in. " she doesn't have enough time to think before she speaks, the response instinctive. It's not until she see's Astoria's stray hairs falling from her braid that she fully recognizes she had invited another person into her space. Cassandra drops her quill on an empty piece of paper before moving to roll her sleeves down as if hiding could drive the memory of her tortured skin from Astoria's mind. Though her expression does not betray her, there is a nervous energy to her voice, " Astoria? I wasn't expecting you. "

 " Your scars are nothing to be ashamed of. " Astoria's words are too understanding. she always seems to know things, to know what to say. Cassandra lets out a deep breath, sitting up straighter in her chair instinctively... Only one of her sleeves is entirely rolled down & she is sure she looks ridiculous, but at this moment she doubts Astoria cares.

It had been immediately clear to Cassandra how taken her brother was by the woman before her. It had been enough to raise more than a few questions inside of Cassandra about the stability of her brother... but it was not a new query by any means. In fact, it had been one of the first things she had wondered about them upon being reuinited. Most people knew better than to let a vampire drink from them, no matter how pretty she may be... But the notion, no matter how insane, was only one on a rapidly growing list of his insanities.

" I know. " Cassandra lies, well. She doesn't know if she should be ashamed of them or proud of her scars. But she knows she treasures them. despite any initial misgivings Astoria had proven herself time & time again. Cassandra would be a liar if she didn't feel a strange sort of understanding of the other. Perhaps this is why her words strike Cassandra, almost too deeply. She feels more grounded than before, a bit more human. Cassandra clears her too-dry throat, trying to redirect the conversation rather than simmer on the moment of realization, " What brings you to my study? enlighten me, if you will. "

[crimsonophelia]

hi basil !! can i request for an imagine with zhongli and an adeptus reader? the reader has been in love w him since the archon war but never told him bc they were scared, and when rex lapis “dies” they’re absolutely crushed. but when they see a certain funeral consultant preparing his funeral, they tell him about their friendship w rex lapis and how they regret never telling him how they felt. thank you!

featuring: zhongli x gn!reader

warnings: angst, a little suggestiveness, some god complex stuff if you squint hard enough, typos lol

published: may 14, 2021

form: imagine

a/n: hi anon! thank you for the request~ i’m assuming reader recognizes zhongli in his mortal form and confesses in that way! in canon, it’s kind of dubious whether or not zhongli explicitly told the adepti that he actually isn’t dead, but i’m going to take some creative liberties and assume that he tells some of his adepti friends that he’s alive in person, like so~

Time slowed to a halt, as the body of the magnificent dragon, Rex Lapis, plummeted to the earth from the heavens, like a meteor summoned by Celestia. You felt like it was all a cruel, eldritch dream that the Archons had cursed you with, frozen among the crowd of onlookers, as the body tumbled, tumbled, and fell in a lump at the alter. Not a single sound emerged from the crowd, as they all stared in horror.

To them, their deity, their Archon who had pulled Liyue from the depths of the abyss and ascended it to wealth and prosperity, had come crashing down to earth in front of their eyes. But to you... Rex Lapis was your world. It was not Liyue that he saved from the grasp of darkness, but rather, you, you were the one he rescued. It was you to whom Rex Lapis had shown more compassion than you had ever thought possible coming from any living being—warm hands grasping your cold limbs, pulling you up, up, and up, into the light of day, giving you a purpose. A reason to live.

The body lied there, as Lady Ningguang acted fast, trying to ease the onlookers, her own horror still painted visibly upon her usually cold and composed countenance. The corpse of your god still retained some semblance of life, you thought, scales still glimmering with a slight sheen, mane fluttering in the wind of commotion, almost as if he were glowing with vibrant life not a few moments ago.

Please. Rex Lapis. Please don’t leave me. I have so much left to tell you. 

*****

“Master!”, you called. “Wait for me!”

You ran to catch up with archon, who had begun his daily routine of assessing the growth of his blossom trees. Tianheng Shan was a favorite location of Rex Lapis, particularly in the springtime when all the flowers on the treas began to bloom, and the glowing flowers that sprouted from the ground took root and broke up from beneath the soil.

Rex Lapis, hands locked behind his back, looked back at you, as you joined him at his side.

“Hello there, [y/n]. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

The archon really did behave like an old-spirited mortal, you thought. He had the mannerisms and idiosyncrasies down to a tee, certainly the polar opposite of the likes of Barbatos.

“I was just about to view the blossoms as well! They should be in season within a week or two”, you responded innocently. This certainly wasn’t an opportunity purely to spend time alone with Rex Lapis. You would never be so silly.

The both of you strolled along the banks of the river, eventually reaching an opening where tens, even hundreds, of pink-blossomed trees wove their way about the bottoms of the cavernous cliffs, some delicate petals already beginning to fall, sprinkling upon the river like memories across the stream of time.

Rex Lapis proceeded past you, craning his neck upwards to get a closer look at the blossoms. As he did so, the hood of his robe fell back down onto his shoulders, revealing long, silky locks of earthy amber resting upon shoulders as hardened as Cor Lapis.

“Quite lovely, aren’t they?”, he mused, almost absentmindedly. “These yinghua are often mistaken for taohua—yinghua do not produce fruit, and their blossoming period is much shorter.” For some reason, you thought, the archon’s gaze seemed to stray elsewhere, somewhere beyond the mass of trees.

“That is why the yinghua is renowned for its beauty. Its life is fleeting, yet so utterly captivating.”

Now, it was all gone. All that was left was a husk—a shell of the god you loved and devoted every ounce of your existence to. A mere gnarled tree that once possessed a beauty that transcended seasons.

*****

You entered the foyer of Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, hearing the bell jingle solemnly as the door closed behind you. The place seemed to be rather empty, with nobody manning the front desk. Assorted coffins and various floral wreaths adorned the rooms of the parlor, a rather gauche little showroom of death. The taste and aesthetics reflected quite well the nature of the parlor’s director.

You treaded through the silent shop, wood creaking beneath your feet. The building must be quite old, you supposed.

“Hello?”, you called out. “Is anybody here?”

Before you could take another step, you heard a man’s voice coming from a back room, tucked away behind the main desk and obscured by a curtain.

“Just a minute, please. I will be with you shortly”, the voice called back.

After some further rustling emitting from what you guessed was the storage room, a man stepped out from behind the curtain, slightly ducking below the doorframe due to his rather imposing height.

Dressed in sharp formalwear, hair tied neatly behind his head in a long ponytail, he stepped forward from behind the desk. You noticed a geo vision dangling from the belt at his waist. How familiar, you thought. Something about him tugged at a string deep inside you, but for the life you, you couldn’t put a finger upon it.

“Greetings, how may I be of service to you?”, the man queried, amber eyes penetrating into you. There it was again. Maybe it was his voice, or his gaze, or perhaps just the way he carried himself, that felt so awfully familiar. His words seemed so... warm, even. Like some fond old memory that is slipping off the precipices of your brain. I must be going mad, you thought. One thousand years and still fawning over every handsome man I see.

Clearing your throat, you replied, “Yes, I am here on behalf of Lady Ningguang and the Qixing. We are looking for a supply of flowers to send off Rex Lapis at his funeral next week.” The man eyed you, curiously. “I was wondering if perhaps you could suggest a suitable flower wreath, preferably something in-season.”

Without a response, your odd companion began to walk towards an adjacent room attached to the lobby, hands crossed behind his back, quite like an old man, although he looked to be in his early thirties, at most. Assuming you were to follow, you stepped into a side room filled with vibrant flower wreaths of all sizes and colors.

The man begun to the scan the selection closely, as you stood to the side and watched him work. Oddly enough, the silence in the room wasn’t awkward, but was even quite comforting, in the same way a blanket warms a body.

Settling upon a modest, pink-flowered wreath of bouquets, he turned to you, indicating that he has decided upon a suggestion. He turned to you, those same eyes once again boring into you. Those were not the eyes of a young man, but something much, much more ancient, and for a moment, you stood frozen, frightened.

“Might I suggest the lovely yinghua? They are a personal favorite.”

White. White was all you saw for seconds, and when you opened your eyes, everything looked crisper, like a veil had been lifted. The world felt clearer, your thoughts came at you with greater clarity, but above all, it was no longer the funeral parlor manager that stood in front of you.

It was him. Rex Lapis.

The room started to twist and warp again, but this time not because of the spell of fog that the archon had cast to maintain your ignorance, but rather because of the salty tears clouding your vision, and the pressure of pure relief, joy, and utter agony that brought you collapsing to your knees, right then and there.

You couldn’t believe it. What about the body? Was that a mere fabrication ? Or was this vision before you an illusion, an echo of the past that had somehow manifested itself in front of you? Why would Rex Lapis do this to you, make you endure such pain? If he knew how much you loved him, how much gratitude you felt for him, how much you didn’t want to move on without him—

“Oh Archons, [y/n], please, I’m so, so sorry—”, he uttered. You felt a soft pressure surrounding you, as you became vaguely aware that the man you loved was now embracing you, the both of you huddled on the floor. “Please forgive me, I hate myself for it but I had to do it, and for the pain I have caused you, I’d much rather die, myself. ”

You could barely understand his words over the sound of your own weeping, forgoing all manners and letting your tears run free. You felt your master tighten his arms around your middle, as if scared to let you go, after already sacrificing you once.

You mustered up the strength to look up at him, seeing that now the dragon’s eyes themselves had become watery with emotion, something you had never seen in the archon before. The regret you felt was threatening to burst from your throat, a lump preventing you from being civil, or talking like a proper adeptus, or confessing your feelings to the man who you owed your life to. No more. No more weakness that plagued your heart for centuries. You may never have this opportunity again.

“[y/n], I beg of you, please forg-“

You pulled your savior’s face towards you, and without hesitation, placed your lips upon his. Too long, had this moment been forgone, and the both of you knew it, as the archon gradually deepened the kiss, intertwining his hands through your hair. This was life. The clarity of it all, the energy surging into you from the points where your skin touched, the infinity of your lips melding against his. This is the god you worshipped and would lay your life down for. Without him, there is nothing.

His lips, initially hesitant, grew more confident, more desperate as they clung onto yours. His fingers were soft as they traced the back of your neck, as if trying to memorize each one of your vertebrae. A feral yearning, something only a dragon was capable of, was unhinging behind Rex Lapis’ ministrations, as you proudly latched yourself deeper into him. The silence of the parlor was now filled with heavy pants and the rustling of fabric, as the two of you clung onto each other, one not wanting to depart before the other.

As you felt the breath in your lungs dwindling, having given all of your life and energy to Rex Lapis’ mortal body, you pulled yourself off of him. Streaks of wetness along his cheeks glinted in the late afternoon sunlight filtering through the windows. His hair had become undone in the minutes where he had been attached to you, and his face showed something of a quenched desperation. He was mortal, and he was perfect.

“Promise me. Promise me, that you will stay by my side forever.”

a/n: ohoho i hope you like it anon~ this is a little bit spicier than i usually write but tbh i kinda vibe w it

[drabsyo]

I was wondering...I was always confused about Narcissa’s hair. It’s been a while since I read the books. Did she color it blonde to show her now belonging to House Malfoys. Or was it naturally blonde? Movies confused me a bit I guess.

Yes, this had me confused too! I've agonized and toiled over it, more than I probably should, about how I should draw her hair because people have generally different views, which is totally understandable! 💕

And I've always wanted to discuss it, so now that I've been given a reason to... Well.

If you take a look at some of my Narcissa fanart, you'll notice the different ways I'd color her hair. I was so confused. Is she a light blonde? Dark blonde? A mix of raven hair and blonde hair? If she has blonde hair then why does her family have (mostly) dark hair? And WHY does she have blue eyes?! This woman is absolutely confusing! (Which is kind of, you know, fitting because Narcissa always loves to be a mystery to literally anyone lol)

So I did my homework, asked around, and scoured every bit of information, canon or otherwise, that I could find about her. It led me to this:

In canon, this is what the Black sisters look like. You can find the page here. Narcissa is a child here, and already has blonde hair. So we can go ahead and safely assume that she was born with natural blonde hair. But in the films, Narcissa has black and blonde hair. I don't actually know why they gave her that hair color, maybe so that the audiences wouldn't question her blood relations with the Blacks--I don't know. I really don't. But now we have a book version Narcissa, one who has full blonde hair. And a movie version Narcissa, one who has raven and blonde hair. At least, that's how the different hair colors started: a movie version, and a book version.

So... here's where it gets confusing.

To my knowledge, it isn't actually explained why her hair color is the way it is in both the movies and the books. Having blonde hair does raise many questions, how is she the "only" blonde in a family of dark hair and dark eyes? To top it all off, it gets even more confusing, because fanon writes and draws her either as a full blonde or a mix of raven and blonde hair. We just have this large pile to sift through of her having either hair color. No one actually explains anything. She's just... infuriatingly there. She's either blonde or raven haired and blonde. BUT fanfiction writers, as I've observed, give their own reasons why Narcissa's hair color is the way it is in their respective stories. And it's actually pretty creative and interesting! It adds even greater depth to her character, and it fits the narrative of the story even better. Remember, the character we're dealing with is Narcissa Black. One of her main traits is "she won't do anything unless there is a clear purpose behind it." This character is deliberate, meticulous, and she makes sure to plan ahead at all times. And so, some fanfiction writers decide to play on that.

You can skip this part if you want to avoid spoilers but I've compiled a small list of instances in (Cissamione) fanfiction where Narcissa's hair is mentioned.

🔹 In Extinction by rubikanon in Chapter 10: Build and Break, Hermione asks Narcissa about it. Here, Narcissa has black and blonde hair. She explains that she only decided to dye it blonde to "fit in with the Malfoys." We can gather two things from that alone, which resonates with her character perfectly: 1.) Narcissa is loyal and 2.) Narcissa purposefully wants to show the rest of the world how loyal she is by committing to having blonde hair. The woman has some serious commitment, and it shows. But now, the way that it's slowly growing back into her natural black hair color, hints that perhaps Narcissa no longer wishes to fit in with the Malfoys. However, if we take an even closer look, we can safely assume that Narcissa isn't the kind of person to just leave her hair color "unattended" like that. Remember, she's meticulous. And this is a big deal for her, the fact that she's just kind of letting it grow back instead of either fully dyeing it back to black, or dyeing it back to blonde. It suggests that perhaps she's a little unsure this time, perhaps it is her uncertainty that is the reason why it's now a mix of both. Another grey area? Or maybe it's actually something more deliberate? Maybe now, she likes that it's a mix of both. That other half now being solely for Draco, and not to fit in (completely) with the Malfoys any longer. Who knows why Narcissa does things the way she does? We can speculate to the ends of the earth, or be as smart as Hermione Granger (or with the case of Extinction, see Hermione's thoughts), but something tells me we'd still be a good step behind.

"Which one is your natural hair color?" I wondered aloud.

(Narcissa) She glanced up at the unexpected question. I was relieved she hadn't sensed my attention yet. It's not like I meant anything by it, I told myself. She was so beautiful, one couldn't help but notice. And feel physically drawn to her. And want to see her two-toned hair fanned across her back, slipping over the bare skin, silky beneath my fingers...

"Why do you ask?" Her query brought me back to reality, and I hurriedly corrected my imagination to include a pretty dress covering the rest of her.

"I don't know." I chewed the inside of my cheek, suppressing my other thoughts. "I'm just curious."

Her gaze returned to the fire. "You've seen enough of my relatives to guess which color is genetic. The blond is something I added to fit in with the Malfoys, after Draco was born." She was quiet for a moment. "He looks so much like his father. I suppose I wanted to share some resemblance."

🔹 In Killing Me Softly by Looktotheedges in Chapter 4: Nagging, Hermione suggests that perhaps Narcissa is part Veela because of her blonde hair and very attractive features, like Fleur. Which is this whole other theory/plot that's very interesting, but won't be discussed in this post. Narcissa tells Hermione that Sirius has always been blonde, and that it isn't out of the question for her to be blonde either. Sirius Black. A blonde. I know! Maybe it's there because it's funny that Sirius is actually blonde like Narcissa. Prissy, haughty, lady-like Narcissa. Arguably the 'girliest' cousin that he has. No, no, no. He doesn't want to be anything like Narcissa. Anyway, if that's the reason, I think that's hilarious and cute.

Narcissa turns away. 'I am aware my appearance is frightfully drab. Work has been…'

Hermione holds back a disbelieving scoff. 'Narcissa. You always look beautiful. And you’re talking to the witch with grass in her hair who practically lives in her office all week.'

Narcissa just leans further over the crib. 'A blonde little boy. It has been so long since… I can almost imagine…'

Hermione stands next to her. Looks down at the peacefully sleeping Louis. He does look remarkably like Draco. 'Are you sure there’s no Veela blood in you? You weren’t secretly switched at birth?'

'Like a changeling?'

'It would explain your blonde hair.'

'Sirius was also blonde, it is not completely out of the question for us Blacks.'

What?!

(...) 'I know. But it is the truth. He was blond until he was about seven… then it began to darken. Mousy. Dull. He wanted to look cool and brooding instead, so he got his hands on some kind of charm right before he set off for Hogwarts. A new, edgy Sirius. It was around then he forbade us from calling him Siri. Said it sounded too girly.'

🔹 In Fixed in Time by TheWorldsaBeastofBurden in Chapter 9: Sisters and Saviors, it's also tackled a little humorously. Andromeda let's a little comment slip while they're in the middle of trying to heal Hermione. Something funny, something that suggests Andromeda and Bella, when they were children, have always wondered why Narcissa is blonde unlike them.

The first words spoken occurred after they’d risen and attempted their casting. Andromeda’s preparedness to take on their task had been clear in her mind so Narcissa rose with her sister, wrapped an arm around her waist and held her near as the woman raised her wand to draw up the rest of the injury she’d dropped, half a slash across Hermione’s hip bone…

That remained half, as Andromeda growled out, “...it isn’t working.” she looked to Narcissa, “Why aren’t you powering me?”

What nonsense? “I am!” she insisted. She was! Or “I- I am trying to!” Her magic was active and alive, pulsing to rise from her skin and transfer into Andromeda’s but it- it wasn’t working! “Could...could it be that you were disowned?”

“Disowning doesn’t take away the fact that we share blood, our magic is directly related. Ugh, Bella always said you were adopted!”

“Oh ha- oh.”

“...oh?” Andromeda returned.

“...it’s not an issue of power. It is what I intend to aid in casting,” Narcissa slowly worked out. Oh, it was most blessed Mister Goyle could be brought to assist the present Hermione. If her present self had been brought to aid Andromeda? “...I cannot harm Hermione.”

Andromeda sighed with some frustration. “I understand you are so tenderly in love-”

“It isn’t- I’m avowed! I- when we arrived from the future we had to escape Malfoy Manor, I couldn’t bring Hermione through the wards without...I couldn’t add her directly, that would be visible. I had to...attach her permission to mine.”

🔹 In Glass Silence by Zarrene Moss (Menzosarres), which probably gives one of the most interesting backstories for Narcissa's hair, for why it's blonde. I can't put a clip of the scene here without hogging up a huge chunk of space on your dash, so I'll try to explain it as best I can instead.

Understand that these come with serious 🛑spoilers🛑 so please do read it at your own risk.

In Glass Silence, Narcissa's hair and eye color was black at birth. But after an accident with raw magic, something Bellatrix wasn't able to control when they were children, Narcissa almost dies. Bellatrix, using even more raw magic, tries desperately to pull Narcissa's "life force" back, but at the cost of losing the eumelanin that made Narcissa's eyes and hair black. Narcissa survived, but now has very little eumelanin left, which is why she's so pale, blonde, and has blue eyes. Every time Narcissa looks at a mirror, her reflection is a reminder of the day she almost died. Bella, on the other hand, is reminded of that day every single time she looks at Narcissa.

So! These are only a few fanfictions I could think of at the top of my head that tackles the issue of Narcissa's hair. In the books, to my knowledge, she is described as having blonde hair and very pale skin.

But let's take another deep dive, if you're up for it.

These are mostly theories, which are largely unconfirmed, but I think they're interesting to think about.

There's this description in the wiki:

"Narcissa Malfoy is described as tall, slim, "nice looking", and very pale, with blue eyes, long blonde hair, and a clear, cold voice. Her hair colouring thus differs from most of the House of Black, who generally have dark hair, though Narcissa does possess the arrogant good looks characteristic of her family."

There's also this pinterest photo of the Black sisters being compared to each other side by side, descriptively and physically. I'm so sorry, I don't know who drew it, but here's a link to the post on pinterest.

"Narcissa threw back her hood. She was so pale she seemed to shine in the darkness... long blonde hair streaming down her back."

Which is interesting because this hints that she's... different. It's a bit literal in this sense--she comes from a pureblood family, arguably the most influential and notorious one, the Blacks, who mostly have dark hair and eyes, and yet her physical appearance directly contrast that. There's also the matter of her namesake. She's the only Black to be named after a flower instead of a galaxy or a star. We aren't really given any explanation why she's the only one who's different. Even Sirius, who fought and died for the side of the Light, is named after the brightest star in the sky. Even Andromeda. It's been said that this is actually meant to be a parallel of some sort to Lily Evans. Narcissa and Lily are both named after flowers, even Petunia (Lily's sister). And I know there's this thing where it's a tie up to how Harry was ultimately saved by a mother's love: Harry lived at the beginning because of his mother's love, and Harry lives once again at the end of the books because Narcissa, a mother who wanted to save her own son, saved him.

If you read that scene in the books where Harry is saved by Narcissa, the whole scene is actually... pretty soft? There's that sort of disarming softness about Narcissa in that moment, where Harry expected to be callously dragged and prodded for a heartbeat. Instead, he gets a surprisingly gentle touch, a curtain of long blonde hair shielding him from the darkness, and the kind of tenderness he wouldn't expect from his enemies, "Is Draco alive?"

It's almost like Narcissa's appearance is something of a "tell". With Andromeda, she's described to have kind eyes, open, unguarded. She inherited her family's dark eyes and dark hair, and she even looks like Bellatrix's twin. I suppose we could say, Andromeda wants to fight that in any way she can by being openly kind. Narcissa is quite literally the opposite--guarded eyes, stoic expressions, cool and calculated emotions. We're veering into this fine line between fanon and canon in terms of their characterization (but only due to lack of canon materials) but personally, I think Narcissa having blonde hair and blue eyes is somewhat more fitting for her character. Again, this line:

"Narcissa threw back her hood. She was so pale she seemed to shine in the darkness... long blonde hair streaming down her back."

It's like that one glaringly obvious hint that everyone overlooks simply because... because it's the most obvious one. "Me! I'm different! I'm the last person you'd expect, but it really is me!"

Anyway. I've rambled on long enough. Hope this clears up some of that confusion, anon. Hoping it didn't ADD even more confusion... 😂 At the end of the day, this is just me speculating, gushing, and being One Big Fool™. So.

But either way, blonde hair, dark hair, mix of both, I adore her. Pretty much.

[bugsy-maria]

Winchester's x Demon Sister! Reader

Warnings: Mention of burning alive, mention of torture and abusive past

"You know I find it hard to believe that you don't recognize your own Daughter," I played with the blade of John's hunting knife, "Were you that much of an absent father?" I looked up at the three hunters I hold hostage. my black eyes staring at them, a deadpanned look across my may face.

"I don't have a daughter!" he lost his cool fast. he yelled at me and I barely said anything.

"Of course you do," I bent down to his eye level, "You just forgot about her in the fire."

~~~~~22 years before~~~~~

3rd POV

Marry had just tucked in her two latest pride and joys. today was their six-month birthdays and something about that felt familiar to Marry as she forgot about it. as she walked out of the room after kissing the twins goodnight, she dismissed the feeling.

Mary passes John as she leaves the nursery, he's on his way to put Dean to bed. Once all children were put to bed, the adults of the house decided that it was their turn to turn in fr the night.

About an hour or two later, Mary stirs in her sleep. the noise from the baby monitor keeping her from sleeping. he sat up ready to make her way to the nursery to see little Sammy and precious (Y/N). she walked through the hall and sees a dim light coming from the TV downstairs.

Mary looks into the room in which the baby duo occupied, just to see the silhouette of her husband standing over the crib both babies slept in. they hadn't expected twins so they had only used the one that Dean used.

"John?" Mary spoke up, "Are they hungry?" she queried.

"Shh." her Husband shushed, she took it as a sign that he had just managed to put the two tots to bed. Mary made her way downstairs to turn off the TV, once she made her way to the bottom of the wooded steps she saw the last thing she expected to see.

On the couch was her husband sleeping, but in the room was John putting the babies to sleep. Marry quickly darted up the stairs turning on the lights to her own death. John awoke to the sounds of his wife screaming.

John saw the sight of the fire in the nursery, he also saw Dean standing in the hall scared.

"Get your siblings!" he shouted at the poor child. as he ran down the stairs to call for help.

~~~~~Present day~~~~~

(Y/N)'s POV

"(Y/N)?" his voice shook.

"Ding! Ding! ding!" I stood straight, "We have a winner!" I pointed at him.

"Get out of her, you black-eyed bitch!" I heard Dean speak up from the end of the line.

"Oh Dee," I chuckled, "I am your sister, I'm just upgraded." I smiled, looking back down at the knife I'm now twisting in my palm.

"You're not my sister, you're just a girl I met at school." his voice turned down yet sterned.

~~~~~9 years before~~~~~

Another day, another motel, another school. I never knew why we moved around a lot. all I knew was that it was for dad's work. I woke up to a single-bed hotel room once again. why only one bed you may ask? well, my dad is a crossroads demon for Hell so he's never around, but when he is I get new marks on my skin.

I got ready for school, I put on a black sweater with a white-collar shirt underneath. I slid my legs into a pair of ripped black jeans and tied my dirt-stained white converse. I slung my bag over my shoulder and walked to the school.

the day went by miserably slow. I was walking to the lunchroom, books safely tucked into my locker. I wasn't going to eat anything, I just had to be there. I felt someone's shoulder knock into mine.

"Sorry." I squeaked out, my frame folding into itself. I looked at the person I ran into. he looked to be a senior, 6' 7" and built like a chad.

"You think you can just push me around?" his voice boomed throughout the hall, making everyone stop.

"n-no," I stuttered. I felt my shoulder get grabbed and my back gets pushed up against the locker.

"I'm gonna make you pay for even laying eyes on me short stack!" he reeled his fist back, I closed my eyes waiting for the impact.

"You wanna think about that again?" a stern voice spoke up. I opened my eyes to see a familiar face, he had light freckles on his skin, dark brown hair, and an old leather jacket. he was always at every school I went to, and always managed to get the reputation of the bad boy everyone was scared of.

the giant quickly scurried off, leaving Dean and me in the same spot.

"You okay?" he looked at me.

"mm." I hummed, "Thanks, Dean." I quietly thanked about to make my way to the lunchroom.

"You know me?" he stopped me.

"Of course, you're always at every school I go to." I looked back at him, "Almost like you follow me." I smiled. most are scared of him, but when you see him almost every day for 13 years you tend to not be as scared.

~~~~~Present day~~~~~

Ever since that day he protected me from bullies and on occasion tended to my wounds caused by my father.

"That happens to also be your sister." I smiled at him. "I swear we crossed paths so many times. I was left to burn in a fire, saved by a demon instead of my own father, always in the same motel just one room over, in the same class as Sam, always saved by Dean, always kicked out by John, and always left behind for the wolves." I walked around them.

"The demon did this to you," Sam concluded.

"You'd think that wouldn't you?" I kneeled in front of him, my knife gliding across his jaw. "Sam it always was you, you were the one to push me over the edge."

~~~~~5 Years Before~~~~~

"You might have had Dean fooled but I'm not!" sam yelled at me. I was hoping Dee would be at their room so he could help me sew up a deep gash I got on my arm. a wound that was being held closed by an old tee-shirt. "I know you are one of those things that killed our mother!"

"Sammy what are you talking about?" tears of pain dried upon my face, but new tears forming on my face. how could Same think I'm a monster?

"Don't call me that!" he pushed me back a little from my shoulders. the harsh movement caused a sting in my wound, but I won't let any pain show now. "I hate you I always have! You're nothing but a monster!" he grabbed my uninjured arm and shoved me out of the room. I stood outside as he slammed the door in my face.

something changed in me that day. something big broke. I hated what I was, so I changed in that split second. my eyes turned black that night.

~~~~~Present day~~~~~

"You know you don't have to watch me." I stood up and looked in the direction of Crowley, the demon who found me burning. "I've been planing this since I was 17." I smiled, watching him disappear. I looked around the room, making sure that he was absolutely gone.

"Thank Lucifer he's gone!" I smiled, I quickly walked over to Dean undoing his restraints.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"I may be a demon now, but I still care about you Dee," I said standing up hugging him after dropping the knife.

"I know." he hugged back.

"Dean are you crazy? She's a demon?!" I heard John yell.

"And you left your child to burn alive so it's not like you're all that good either." I went over to sam to undo his restraints too.

"How do we know we can trust you?"

"Well you never did before, so don't know." I smiled, crawling over to John's chair.

"Sam, get the Colt." I heard Sam listen to John.

"Wrong direction Sammy boy." I pulled the gun out of my pants while I stood up.

"So you planned to get the gun from us?" john stood up, facing me.

"no, I'll give it back once you guys are out of  here." I looked him in the eyes.

"She wouldn't hurt us, dad." I heard Dean speak from his spot near Sam.

"And how can we trust her?" venom leaked from the old man's words.

"Fine." I sighed, "Let's make a deal." I smiled at them.

"For what our souls, you might as well kill us now then." sam sounded angry

"No of course not. I'm a demon there for I have to keep the deals I make, I let you escape if you shoot me, not dead but in the shoulder."

"Why?"

"I don't want to hurt you guys, so I need to make it seem like you escaped on your own without my help."

"And you thought I wouldn't notice?" I heard crowly say from behind me.

"I'm not going to hurt them." I looked at him.

"No you were always too sensitive, it's the human in you." I threw the colt at Dee.

"And it what has kept me alive." I smile at him.

"It's what's going to kill you,"

"But you haven't killed me, I think that's your human side." he stepped in front of me.

"You better choose your next words very wisely," he advised

"If you wanted to kill you would have by know, face it. you care for me a little bit." he snapped his fingers and I was back in hell. in my room, well more like a holding cell.

"Argue with Crowley again?" a demon asked me from outside from my cell.

"Mmhmm." I slumped on the floor in the corner of the small cement room. just hoping that my brothers would come and save me this time.

[seriouslysnape]

Sticky Kisses

Neville Longbottom x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Fluff. A short mention of death.

A/N: I hope Google translate did this justice lmao.

Word Count: 2,069

“Can you stir the syrup, please?”

Neville was awakened by the sunlight filtering in through a crack in the curtains in your bedroom. The morning sunshine splayed across his face caused a gentle warmth that also caused black spots behind his eyelids. It took him a moment to register where he was, the sight of the still foreign bedroom causing him brief confusion. He lifted his head from the squishy pillow, sighing in content remembrance when he identified the clean sheets of your shared bed. It had been exactly two weeks since the two of you had moved into your new flat, and it was taking Neville some time to get used to it. Living with you had been pure bliss so far. He adored waking up to you in the mornings and going to bed with you at night.

He was counting down the days until your wedding. In addition to moving in together, it had also been three months since he had officially (and shyly) popped the question. Neville wasn’t always sure about everything, but marrying you and spending forever with you was a no brainer. Moving in together had been the first step, and he was loving every minute of it.

Not long after he woke up, the most delicious smell filled his nostrils. The moment his eyes opened to bring him out of his slumber, his mouth was salivating at the scent floating around in his bedroom. His belly grumbled audibly, reminding him that neither of you had eaten dinner the night prior. The plan had been for the two of you to have a date night in London, consisting of seeing a movie and going out for dinner. However, the two of you had gotten handsy during the film and, well, coming back to your apartment and making love well into the night sounded like a better plan.

Eventually, the delicious smells coming from your kitchen had tempted him long enough. He sat up in bed to stretch his tense muscles and crack his unpopped knuckles, it was always his first step in getting out of bed every day.

He pushed back the duvet, wincing at the feel of the cool air hitting his skin. He made his way out of your bedroom, following the aroma of what he knew to be cinnamon and vanilla. His padding feet stopped short when he saw you turned at the stove, clad in his cream colored sweater that he had worn the night before. He felt a heat creep onto his cheeks. He loved this picture.

He felt his heart swell at the sight of you making breakfast for the two of you and dancing around your quaint kitchen. He watched you move around, expertly whisking and pouring to prepare whatever it was that you were making. You sensed his presence behind you, turning to smile at him.

“Good morning, Nev,” You greeted sweetly, “Did you sleep well?”

Neville grinned in response, entering the kitchen fully. In the last six months, Neville had slept better than he had in his entire life. The war had been over for several months now, Neville was to begin his teaching position at Hogwarts in the following school year, you were engaged to one another. Things were falling into place perfectly. His life was finally heading in the direction that he wanted. He had control over his future. 

And his future was with you.

“Yeah, love. I did,” He answered, his hand finding the small of your back as he pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head, “But I missed waking up with you.”

You craned your head so he could lower his face to leave a peck on your lips before returning to what you were doing. Neville was watching over your shoulder and, truthfully, he had no idea what you were making. You had an interesting line of ingredients going, including bread and a bowl of some sort of egg and cinnamon mixture. 

“I know. I figured that a nice breakfast that’s more than three cups of tea might be good. That and we never had dinner last night,” You explained, your cheeks heating up slightly at the remembrance of why, “I’m sorry if I woke you.”

“No, no, flower. I’m partial to waking up this way,” He replied with a chuckle, “What...what are you making anyway?”

He was puzzled when you dipped the bread into the slimy mixture before laying it into the frying pan on the stove. The summer leading up to your fifth year at Hogwarts, you had taken a few months to live in London, studying Muggles and their lifestyle. You learned all kinds of things, including many popular Muggle cuisines. It wasn’t at all uncommon for Neville to find you cooking something that he had never seen before, but it almost always was delicious.

“French toast.” You told him with a smile.

Neville cocked his head curiously. He had never heard of such, and he was intrigued.

“French toast?” He questioned.

“Mmhm. It’s bread that you dip in cinnamon, milk, egg, and vanilla. Then you cook it on both sides.” You listed off to him.

The smell was incredible, but Neville didn’t quite understand it yet.

“But...what makes it French?” He questioned.

That made you pause. You hadn’t the slightest idea as to why French toast was called French toast. Leave it to Neville to ask a question that you didn’t know the answer to.

“You know...I don’t know. They didn’t teach me that part.” You giggled.

“I know French.” Neville announced.

“Do you?” You queried, turning around to look at him in surprise. 

“Well...a little. A few phrases and words.” He blushed.

Your excitement caused a flutter in his belly as he watched you get riled up over this.

“Tell me something in French!” You squealed, absolutely stunned that Neville had never told you this before.

“Uh, what should I say?” He returned.

“Anything. Come on, please?” You pleaded.

Neville racked his brain, trying to come up with a sentence that he could say fluently. Neville wasn’t fluent by any means, but he knew a few things. He looked around the kitchen for inspiration before his eyes spotted a wooden spoon on the countertop.

“La cuillère est là-bas.” He said after a few moments.

You stared at him blankly. You had no idea what he just said.

“Hm. Translate?” You requested.

Neville smirked, nodding towards the spoon.

“I said, ‘the spoon is over there’.” He told you.

Your jaw dropped minorly as your impressed expression increased. Never in a million years would you have guessed that Neville knew even a lick of French.

“Tell me something else!” You shrilled, bouncing on the balls of your feet with jittery thrill.

Neville didn’t really know much beyond that, but there was a phrase that he knew very well.

“Je t'aime.” He hushed out, his lips close to yours. 

You let out a short, airy laugh. Taking his round face into your palms.

“Now that I know,” You beamed, “I love you too.”

You caught his soft lips in a kiss, giving him a burst of energy. Mornings with you were one of his favorite times of day. Seeing you in such a relaxed state made him unbelievably happy.

 “Can you stir the syrup, please?” You asked when you pulled away from him.

Maple syrup was something that Neville was familiar with, but he hadn’t ever had homemade syrup. Only the kind that came out of a bottle.

“You’re making syrup?” He gawked, reaching around you to stir the thick liquid, “You’re too good.”

Neville chuckled again in your ear when you bashfully shimmied against him, keeping you close to him while you continued to make breakfast. When the syrup was okay to stand alone for a bit, his hands found your waist, rubbing easy circles with his thumbs. Every few moments, his fingertips would find the sides of your knickers under his sweater that you were wearing. You weren’t sure if it was the privacy of your own home or what, but Neville’s touches had become more frequent. He wasn’t one for PDA other than hand holding and an occasional kiss, but when you were at home, he was all over you. 

The war had really awakened something in Neville. You both had endured it. You had both experienced it. But it affected Neville differently than you. Innocent lives were lost, some of them being people that Neville cared about a lot. He had a couple of close calls himself, and it taught him not to be so careless with his life before he hurt the ones who loved him. Every day he worried about you. Every day he was terrified that he’d find that your body had joined the corpses in The Great Hall. Losing you had been something that plagued him. Every moment that he wasn’t with you, he was worried sick. 

He was forever thankful that you both made it out of the war relatively unharmed. He was even more grateful that his future plans were still intact. The first night after the war, the two of you spent the night in his childhood bedroom at his Grandmother’s house. The two of you were crammed into his tiny bed, pressed so close against each other that you could hardly move. Neither of you cared though. You slept maybe two hours that night, while Neville didn’t sleep at all. Silent tears streamed both your and Neville’s cheeks as the two of you just soaked up each other’s presence. Thinking about how you were grateful that you were still there together. How you were grateful that you still had a chance at a long life together. 

You were grateful that you had both made it out alive.

That was the night that Neville made a silent vow to himself. For the short time that you had slept, Neville watched you. He swore to himself that he’d never take life for granted again. He’d take advantage of every moment with you. The good and the bad moments. The small and the big moments. He’d take the inevitable arguments and the passionate moments of love with full seriousness.

Because he had learned that those moments could be taken away in an instant and without warning.

“Breakfast is ready, honey.” You said happily, turning around with a plate stacked with delectable French toast. 

Neville reached for the pot of syrup, eyeing it hungrily.

“Can I?” He motioned towards the bread.

“Go ahead.” You granted, knowing what he was asking. 

He poured the syrup from the pot onto the stack of French toast. He made a noise of satisfaction when the syrup seeped over the bread, spilling over the side and onto the empty parts of the plate. Neville always had an appetite for breakfast, unlike you who often chose a quick breakfast over a filling one. You didn’t bother waiting to sit at the table, reaching for a fork and digging in where you both stood in the kitchen. You stabbed a cut triangle of toast onto your fork, holding it up to his lips. His pupils dilated at the sight, his lips wrapping around the fork as he took the food into his mouth. He chewed slowly to savor the taste, his eyes rolling back into his head at the almost orgasmic taste. 

“How is it?” You asked, bursting with anticipation. 

He smiled once he swallowed, taking the fork from your hand.

“Spectacular. So amazing,” He complimented, taking more on to the fork to let you try, “Open up.”

You opened your mouth as well, Neville feeding you a bite of your wonderful creation. You had to admit, you had outdone yourself. 

“Not bad if I do say so myself.” You bragged, snickering when Neville barely waited before taking another mouthful. 

“It’s absolutely perfect. Just like you.” He grinned.

He kissed you again, your lips sticky and sweet with syrup. You tasted of maple and cinnamon, two of his favorite tastes in the entire world. Although, he loved the way you tasted without it. Just like the dinner from the night before, your breakfast was put on hold suddenly for other activities. He was overwhelmed with love and care. This was the life he wanted. He knew this would be his forever. 

And he was excited to live every minute of it to the fullest.

******

Tags: @lupinsslut @writingscape @msmimimerton @thefilmcity​