#reluctantly soft legend is such a mood

[fuckit-hero-of-trains]

Sit by the fire until... Chapter 2

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25870150/chapters/81650737

Here’s the thing they don’t tell you when you get magically transformed into a bunny rabbit against your will by the corrupted darkness of the Sacred Realm: somethings, unfortunately, tend to stick.  

Now, Legend isn’t saying that he’s hiding a cotton tail under his tunic or that his soul secretly aches to frolic in meadows or spend his time sleeping in holes or whatever else it is that rabbits do when they're not busy being very confused and scared twelve year old Hylians.

No.

But that doesn't mean he was left unscathed by having his entire anatomy re-written in less than an instant.

Because of course he wouldn’t. Goddess forbid he ever catch a break for once in his life.

He was still pretty young when it happened, so Legend can’t remember if his teeth had been quite so bucked before the incident. Regardless if they were or not, they sure as Hylia are prominent now. Then there's also the fact that he never really grew into his ears, the damn things always just a shade longer than they should be for a regular Hylian.

Before he joined this wild cucco chase masquerading as an adventure, Legend would sometimes catch himself looking at Ravio wondering, Is that how I would have looked? Besides the hair and eyes, the merchant was supposed to be his mirror image after all. Zelda and Hilda were, so it stood to reason that he and Ravio should be the same.

In which case, the bucktooth thing was going to be a problem regardless.

The ears, on the other hand, are a completely different story. From the quick glances Legend has managed to steal of Ravio’s side profile, the merchant has relatively short ears himself, which just make the Veteran’s own look comically long when the two stand side by side.

And ugh, and that wasn't even touching on his… less physical changes.

 Namely, his cravings.

Noshing on some leafy greens while home alone doing some chores? A-Okay.

Getting caught by Warriors and Twilight absentmindedly chewing on the hay he was supposed to be feeding the horses? Ehhh, not so much.  

Goddesses, his ego still hasn’t recovered from the amount of jokes the Pretty Boy had made at his expense. And that’s not even mentioning the veritable mountain of carrots he found in his bedroll, no doubt courtesy of that flea bitten farmhand.

Regardless of the less than natural way he got these… attributes, Legend couldn’t say they were all bad. ‘Cuz sure, his ears were a bit longer than average, but he could also hear better than most of his companions, able to catch the sound of crunching leaves above even their loud bickering. Like wise, his eyes were sharper than others in the low light of dawn and dusk, allowing him to see things others would miss.

Frankly, both skills had helped keep him alive during his quests. He was thankful for them in a weird huh, guess that works kinda way, but thankful all the same.

But sometimes Legend wanted to wring the goddesses necks because really? Being turned into a rabbit couldn’t have fixed this particular problem?

This particular problem being his absolutely horrible pollen allergies.

“ A-A-A!”

Each rapid, involuntary inhale feels like a simultaneous punch to the gut and a gasp for breath, the air yanked into his body and then stoppered up. It leaves the veteran in a state of limbo as a paralyzing calm falls over him; lungs full of air, shoulders hiked up, muscles tensed.

For a second, everything feels lodged in place, frozen, like the Champion had used his stasis rune on him.

And–

Legend clamps his mouth shut and tucks his face into his elbow just as tension snaps and–

“- acheew! ”

Nothing but a soft, cut off sneeze slips past his lips, yet, the force of holding it back  still sends Legend bowing over. He stays there, hunched over for a breath as his body recovers, before he straightens back up, sniffing irritably as he tries to ignore the itch prickling at his eyes and the congested pressure throbbing behind his sinuses.

A chortling huff sounds next to him and when Legend glances down he can see Wolfie– or should he say, Twilight– peering up at him, mouth open and tongue lolling in a doggy grin, but icy blue eyes too pointed, too teasing, to be anything but human.

Legend's nose twitches tellingly as it begins to tickle again and the wolf gives another stuttering huff. A laugh. Legend can practically hear Twilight’s twangy, Awww. You sneeze like a bunny.

The bastard.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, dog boy,” Legend grumbles, wiping harshly at his face in an attempt to stave off another sneezing fit. “Don't you have trees to piss on or something?”

That earns him peeled back lips and a growl, but Legend just sends the other a responding sneer as strides past the grumpy wolf and out into the rolling field of tulips that stands in front of them.

Another huff, this one more annoyed than amused, sounds behind the veteran before the wolf streaks past him, loping through the flowers with his nose down and tail high.

Legend rolls his eyes.

Twilight loves to show his teeth, but the farmhand is quite literally all bark and no bite.

And besides, they both have better things to do than needle one another. If Legend is going to be miserable, he may as well take steps to make that misery as short as possible.

Afterall, they aren't out here swanning through a meadow of flowers for pleasure.

The last Dark Portal they had all walked through had, once again, separated them. Legend and Twilight were lucky enough to find one another quickly, though, now that Legend thinks about it, it probably had less to do with luck and more to do with Twilight’s nose.

After regrouping, they had tried to search for the others more that day, but a storm had them holed up in a cave overnight to wait out the deluge. They had gotten up early to start their search again today, but so far they had no such luck in finding any of the others in the forest.

Which just left the inexplicable meadow of tulips surrounding the wood.

Legend had been hoping that the rain would keep some of the pollen at bay, but nooo that would be too merciful, wouldn’t it?

If anything, the rain just made this whole experience more aggravating. Now, along with stinging eyes, a running nose, and a throbbing head, Legend also had the delightful honor of feeling the tulip stalks and leaves and petals sliding wetly across his skin, the annoying slap of his tunic smacking his thighs as it got more sodden by the second, and the disgusting squish of water between his toes with every step he took through this Wind Fish damned field.

And sure, maybe it was worth it to reunite with the other heroes, but really, would it kill the goddesses to make his life just a little bit easier.

A bark pulls Legend from his miserable musings. Twilight's dark tail stands out among the ocean of pastel pinks and yellows and oranges, wagging frantically twenty meters away. It disappears after a second, replaced by a muzzle and expectant eyes.

Twilight barks at him again.

He must have found something.

Finally, Legend thinks as he begins to make his way over toward the other, hopefully a reason to get out of this floral hell hole.

“What is it, boy?” Legend asks, voice going high and mocking as he takes delicate care stepping on as many flowers as possible, “Little Time-y fall down the well again?”

Instead of a growl for his effort, Legend gets a flurry of black flecks falling upward, like pieces of reverse snow, in his peripheral vision.

“You know,” Twilight says as he straightens to his full height, eyes half-lidded. Unamused, “You’re really not as funny as you seem to think you are.”

And before Legend can interrupt that– No, actually, you just have a dog shit sense of humor. Literally– Twilight continues, “I can smell the smithy all over this thing.” He nods down at a small tree stump breaking through the tide of flowers. “The scent is a bit old, probably from sometime before last evening, but still traceable. I should be able to find him from here.”

Legend eyes the stump for a moment, peering into the cracked hole in the top of the wood. Inside, he can see the round, red caps of several toadstools sprouting.

He can also sense magic. Close to that of the fairies– natural and glittering and smelling of moss– but not quite the same.

The Smithy’s doing?

Or a natural occurrence?

Regardless…

“Welp,” Legend says, straightening up, “Let's go find him. Couldn’t have gotten far on those little legs of his.”

“Again,” Twilight huffs, the black fractals already consuming him once more as he transforms, “You’re not as funny as you think...”

His voice distorts and fades into nothing as the magic swallows him whole, leaving Legend once again having a conversation with a very unimpressed looking wolf.

“I like you better when you can’t talk,” Legend tells Twilight as the other sets off, snuffling at the ground.

The other pauses to give Legend a look that would be more at home on a disapproving mother’s face, before continuing his tracking.

He also whaps Legend in the leg with his tail.

Hard.

The prick.

They continue on their trek together like that for a while, Twilight occasionally pausing to shove his nose into the dirt some more as he decides which direction to follow as Legend trails behind, keeping his eyes peeled for a quadripartite tunic and a head of straight, gold hair.

It isn't long before the farmhand turned canine breaks off into a light trot and then a jog, and then a full on sprint.

And stops just as suddenly.

Legend is out of breath by the time he slides to a stop behind the farmhand, but from a cursory glance around, there doesn’t seem to be a short, mouthy smithy anywhere in the vicinity.

“What happened?” Legend asks, still searching, turning circles as he cranes his neck, “Did you lose the trail?”

Twilight gives a light whine, grabbing Legend’s attention.

Then he does two full spins and sits primly, looking up at Legend.

“The hell is that supposed to mean?” Legend crinkles his nose at the canine. “Use your words.”

Wolfie rolls his eyes in a way that Legend didn’t think was possible for dogs and then stands.

The canine stares at him intently, as though making sure Legend’s eyes are locked with his own. And then he flicks his eyes over the yellow tulip he is sitting next to meaningfully. Then back to Legend. Back and forth back and forth, his eyes go for a full minute before he stops and stares at Legend once more.

Legend feels as his face wrinkles in confusion.

It's just a regular tulip, just like the thousands currently around them. Pretty enough, he supposes. The bulb seems to be a little wilted, like it's been weighed down by rain water perhaps, but other than that, nothing to sneeze at.

Or everything to sneeze at, if you’re Legend.

Legend gives the flower one more skeptical glance before turning to look at Twilight once more, brow raised.

“Pretty,” he assures the other. “Not sure how it helps us find Four.”

Twilight heaves another too human sigh.

And then he reaches up,  takes the sleeve of Legend’s tunic between his teeth, and yanks.

“Hey!” Legend yelps as he’s dragged down into the dirt, “Watch the teeth! The embroidery on this thing took forever to do and even longer to enchant!”

Twilight pays him no mind, pulling him down and forward, closer to his chosen tulip.

Legend tries his best to keep his face away from the damn thing.

“I swear on The Three, if your slobber stains–”

Legend’s words crumple up and die in his throat.

There’s something in the tulip.

At first glance, Legend would identify it as the Smithy's earring. The small feathered one that he takes special care of. The one that Four refuses to tell Legend the origin of, besides his cryptic, “From a friend.”

Legend would say that it was just the earring, but… but it isn’t.

Rather than being completely red with a white tip, Legend can see that this little feather is only mostly red. Right before the tip, a darker red plumage takes over, followed by purple and blue and green.

Also, rather than being attached to the small, golden chain and stud Four uses to fasten the jewelry to his earlobe, it’s attached to a body.

A very, very small body.

By now, Twilight has let go of his sleeve, but Legend both doesn’t notice and doesnt care, all of his attention fixed on the little creature before his eyes.

From what he can tell, the little creature is asleep, curled up in the bulb of the flower, his feather tail tucked up near his nose for warmth. Looking past the plumage, Legend can see that the little guy has a very rat-like face, complete with a small, twitching pink nose, long whiskers and–because the creature is shivering– long, chattering rodent incisors. Oval shaped ears stick out from the creature's head, a mix between mouse-like and Hylian.

And framing those ears is shoulder length, soaking wet blonde hair.

Blonde hair held out of the little guy's face by a green headband.

And…

And he’s wearing the smithy’s tunic?

“... Four?” Legend whispers in amazement.

And just saying the other’s name out loud is like a spell because suddenly Legend can see all signs. The little guy has Four’s bag over his shoulder and the Four Sword at his hip. That same magic that was by the stump– the not-fairy, fairy magic– completely surrounds him, dusting him in the same way he is currently dusted in yellow pollen.

“Is that you, Smithy?” Legend asks a little louder.

But rather than startle awake, the small creature– Four, Legend reminds himself– simply hunkers down more fully into the flower, curling up more fully as his shivers increase.

“He must have transformed in order to speak with the Minish around here.”

Twilight’s voice, even though it is a whisper, gives Legend a start. He hadn’t realized the other had transformed, nor had he seen the farmhand crouch down by his side.

The other isn’t looking at him as he speaks, cool blue eyes instead locked on the fitfully sleeping smithy, face concerned.

“He once told me that the Minish are insatiable gossips. He must have transformed to try and find us.”

The concern on the farhand’s face darkens the longer he stares.

“He must have been caught out in the storm,” Twilight says grimly.

Legend tries to imagine what that would be like. To be the size of a mouse and out in a storm. Tries to imagine what it would feel like for gale force winds to pull at drag at him, crushing him into the dirt one moment and yanking off his feet the next. Tries to imagine dodging back and forth between tulips, avoiding the head sized, stone cold rain drops pelting down from the sky

It's not a pretty pictograph, he’ll admit.

And ugh, Legend really isn't a fan of what it's making him consider.

He spares another glance at Four.

And fuck, the little guy shivers and shivers and shivers until the fower he is sleeping in is shaking with it.

And then, he sneezes, the sound coming out tiny and squeaky and weak.

Son of a bitch.

With a sigh that is as weary and reluctant and annoyed as he can possibly force it to be even though the vetran is feeling none of those things, Legend takes hold of the flower near its stem. As gently as possible, he digs his nails into the soft green there, cutting the flower from the ground while keeping it intact.

He hands it to Twilight, who takes it from him with gentle, if slightly confused hands.

With one hand, Legend flips open his shoulder bag. With the other, he rips his hat from his head with a motion probably a tad more violent than is really called for. He arranges the hat inside the bag, making sure to cover his items with the soft fabric while also shaping a soft bed.

Without looking up from his work, Legend extends a hand out to Twilight.

Makes a grabbing motion when what he wants isn't immediately in his hand.

After a second, Twilight slowly places the stem of the flower back in Legend’s hand and the Veteran gently lowers it in the small nest he had created, making sure the bulb sits in a place both shielded from the sun and extra comfortable thanks to the extra fabric padding beneath it.

In one smooth motion, Legend takes a hold of the strap of his bag, pulls it carefully off of his shoulder, and places it on the other side of Twilight’s neck.

And then, he reaches down and touches the dark stone hanging from the necklace around the farmhand’s throat, letting the darkness flock around and consume him.  

When Legend blinks open his eyes, Twilight is looking down at him smugly.

He is looking down farther than usual.

Also looking smugger than usual.

“Shut up,” he grumbles, shaking out his fur before hopping on all fours to get closer to the bag.

“I didn’t say anything,” Twilight replies, not bothing to wipe the smug look off his stupid face even as he lowers the bag to the ground for easier access.

“Yeah you did,” Legend hisses quietly as he clambers carefully into the satchel, settling down the nest of leather and items and hat.

He pulls the flower closer to his side where it is warm.

Inside, he can feel as Four’s shivers begin to lessen.

"Cute," Twilight laughs from above them.

"Fuck you," Legend whisper spits, though he makes no move to push Four's flower away. If anything, he pulls it closer when he hears the smaller hero start to make small, chittering snores, surprised the smithy could sleep through such a racket.

Twilight, thankfully, doesn't comment, instead pulling the top of the bag loosely closed to give them some shade. Then, Legend feels as he gently lifts the satchel back up, slings it slowly over his shoulder as to not disturb the contents inside, and begins walking, hopefully back in the direction of the forest.

Legend can still hear the farmhand laughing to himself from within the bag, but without the others' eyes on him, he finds he doesn't care.

The pollen still itches at his eyes and nose and Legend can still feel the pound of his sinuses even now.  But something about the shade and warmth and soft rocking of the bag makes it hard for him to mind.

Four gives a harty twitch, kicking a petal directly into Legend’s face.

And even that doesn't dissuade the veteran from his task.

Instead, Legend sighs and pulls Four even closer, relaxing despite the discomfort.

He’s got dirt on both Twilight and now Four, the two heroes with sticks most firmly inserted into their asses. He can get out of whatever chores and lectures they try to pin him with.

Yep, he thinks , distantly. That's why he did this.

For the blackmail.

And no other reason.

[eddysocs]

Sext Blocked (Zari Tarazi x OC)

Summary: Five times Ines and Zari try to sext only to get interrupted by the team, and one time Zari can’t take it anymore.

Word Count: 1,218

Warnings: Sexting, sexual frustration

1. Sara

Sitting alone in the control room, Ines and Zari were finding it difficult to pass the time with nothing to do for once. So, Zari got an idea. She pulled out her phone and sent Ines a text.

Hey, Sexy

Ines heard her phone ping at the message and took it out to check it, surprised to find the message from Zari, seated only a few feet away. She smirked at Zari before turning her attention back to her phone.

Hello, Beautiful, she replied, hitting send.

Wanna know what I’m thinking?

You know it 😉

I’m thinking we could go to my room and… Zari began typing, ready to outline a list of dirty thoughts that were running through her mind when mid sentence, Sara came barreling in, announcing that they had a timeline thing to fix before history gets irreparably fucked again, and Zari groaned, shutting her phone off reluctantly. Can’t sext in the middle of a mission after all. They had a bad enough time not screwing things up as it was. Ines frowned but did the same. Maybe later, they both thought.

2. Mick

After the exhausting mission came to its conclusion, everyone returned to the Waverider, tired and dirty from a nasty fight in the west during the worst of the dust bowl era. Zari came out of the shower, all fresh and clean, finding Ines in the ship's lounge area, and deciding what better time than now to pick up where they left off.

Been thinking about you all day, Zari sent.

At seeing another text from Zari, Ines lit up with a smile, albeit a tired one. I’ve been thinking about you too. Actually, about you covered in nothing but dust and my hands.

Zari had to laugh at that, a soft titter that was just loud enough for Ines to hear at the other end of the couch. Ines grinned, happy that the mood wasn’t lost because of the joke. Sorry, no dust, but I wouldn’t mind having your hands on me.

As they texted back and forth for another minute, Mick came thundering in, beer in hand and plopped between the two of them on the couch, swigging the beverage, downing at least a good half of it in one go, then letting out a rather loud belch. And that was enough to ruin the mood.

3. Behrad

Ines was off helping Ava and John on a small mission that didn’t require the whole team. Something simple for once, even for the Legends, but Zari couldn’t help but make things possibly a little more difficult by sending Ines a text.

When are you coming back? I don’t think I can wait much longer.

When he text remained unanswered, for several minutes, Zari decided to take it up a notch. I’m wearing something special for you. Your favorite.

The red and gold? The text came back in record time. Zari knew that always got her, no matter what she was doing. Can I see?

Zari went to get a good angle, found her lighting and started to unbutton her top when a knock interrupted. Quickly covering back up, Zari feigned casualness as Behrad entered. Knowing her brother, Zari realized it wasn’t going to be a short visit. So she sent Ines a text of apology.

Sorry, Behrad just busted in. Later, promise. 💋

Ines breathed out a dejected sigh. It was always something.

4. Zari 1.0

As Sara and Ava were going over strategy plans, Zari and Ines were only half listening. Sticking to the back of the group, they were having their own private conversation.

Can’t wait for tonight. 💦

Ines smiled down at her phone. So they were at it again, were they? If we ever get a little alone time. 🤣

Yeah? And if we were alone, what would you do?

Ines considered it a moment. She had so many options come to mind that she couldn’t quite settle on one. When she finally picked one to go with, she began typing it out, seeing Zari look at her phone with anticipation of what she’d say next.

"Zari," came Ava's voice, breaking through Zari's reverie.

Zari slid her phone into her pocket with a "Hmm?" in reply to Ava.

"We're going to need Zari 1.0's expertise for this one. You think you can switch places with her in the totem for a while?"

Zari's face fell for the briefest of seconds. Foiled yet again. "Sure, yeah. Of course," she replied. Missions always came first. And at this point, everything was getting kind of tiring and she could actually use the break.

5. John and Astra

Zari sat on one end of John's couch and Ines sat on the other. Their knees slightly bent, so their feet overlapped a bit in the middle. They were happy to have the time to sneak away to John's mansion using the time courier. It had been nonstop interruptions for them, and despite being in the same room yet again, they continued their little game of sexting, hoping to actually get somewhere this time before anyone could interrupt them again.

Love your dress, Ines began, innocently enough.

I only bought it so you could take it off, Zari flirted.

Did you just quote Taylor Swift to me? 😂

Would it matter if I did? Zari began to run her foot along Ines' leg and Ines melted at the simple touch. It seemed like forever since they’d been able to even show such a small sign of intimacy.

Jarring them away from each other was the loud slam of the mansion's door opening, followed very quickly by the sound of John and Astra arguing. Zari and Ines exchanged an irritated look with one another before the magicians were able to spot them. "Oh, what are you guys doing here," Astra asked.

"Apparently nothing," Zari snapped. "For the, what, fifth time?"

"Zari," Ines warned. She knew tensions were high, she felt pretty high strung herself, but it wasn’t going to be good for anyone to start arguing. Yet that didn’t stop her.

"Can’t I just have one day off? Every time I try to enjoy myself someone has to come along and ruin it!"

+1. The Final Straw

While John was about to reply, the rest of the team walked in the open door and Zari exploded, getting up from the couch and yelling at the lot of them. "Oh, that’s it! If I see any of your faces for the rest of the day, I will claw them off!" Though it was a threat, it sounded like more of a promise.

Zari then surprised Ines by reaching down and taking her hand, pulling her up off of the couch and to the staircase. "We're going to be upstairs having sex and if any of you wish to interrupt, then be my guest, I fucking dare you. I’m sick of getting sext blocked by all of you idiots."

Ines' cheeks reddened, as Zari continued to pull her along behind her. The two of them soon disappeared, making for one of the bedrooms on the second floor as the team stood slack jawed at what had just happened. "Alright," Sara finally stated, "no one piss off Zari when she’s horny. Good to know."

Ines Powell: @borg-queer, @chickensarentcheap, @smutember

[shadowsfascination]

Shadamy Swordland | Ch 2 | Sacred Arts

“I’m going to remove my hand from your mouth on the count of three, but you’re not to make a sound! We wouldn’t want to draw any attention to us, now do we, lass?”” The stranger now held a dagger dangerously close to her throat. Amy felt the cold steel against her skin and didn’t dare exhale too deep, terrified it’d cut into her flesh. Unable to nod in agreement, she could only widen her eyes in good hopes the other understood. “One… Two… Three.” She felt the gloved fingers slide away from her now dry mouth. Automatically she gasped and panicked, the sharp lines of the dagger pressing into her throat with every shallow breath. “Good girl. Now, let’s have a chat.” The other said, stepping in to face her, still holding the dagger in place. Amy looked up in astonishment to a creature with a sensual vibe over her. Their manner of speech aligned with the smug grin on her face. She wore a dark coat with fabric that seemed to hug her body in a way that barely left anything to the imagination, her sharp shaped wings the only thing uncurved about her physique. How could she have missed her when she scanned the place? “Then talk!” Amy snarled.

She tried to keep her voice down. The woman pulled back the hood of her coat onto her shoulders, revealing her white skin and big ears. Her lips were full and her two sharp canine tooths drew Amy’s attention.

“Why so rushy? Oh, that’s right! You have to get back to your dorm in time so they won’t notice you’re gone. Imagine all the rumours you’d cause!”

“If you’re so worried about my reputation, you could let me go, you know?”

The bat suppressed her tendency to mockingly laugh in her face and shifted the dagger to her slightly press into Amy’s muzzle.

“You’re too naïve. Ah, where are my manners?! I haven’t introduced myself to you yet.”

“I’ve been wondering about your manners as well.” Amy angrily hissed at her.

“You don’t want to go down that road with me, dear.” Her voice turned dark and serious. “On the topic of manners: it is wildly indecent that a member from a low-rank family such as yourself is in a romantic relationship with a high-ranked knight, who happens to be your trainer as well.”

A cocktail of frustration, fear and disgust roared inside her, sending tremors to her limbs. If she weren’t tied up, she’d teach this woman a lesson.

“…And quite a passionate one I must say.” The bat lowered her eyelids and locked eyes with her, clearly trying to get under her skin. Amy felt her cheeks redden in both embarrassment and anger, feeling exposed and violated by how much this stranger knew about her and Shadow. “H-how much do you know?”

“More than enough to offer you a deal.” “Let’s hear it.” Amy said unwillingly. She added scepticism to the tone in her voice.

“Rouge!”

Shadow rushed in without warning and knocked her over with force, taking both of the females by surprise. He pushed the bat down, one of his hands clenched around her neck, the other pointing out his magnificent sword at her. She struggled to escape his hold and failed, but still managed to cock a smile, unnerving Shadow and Amy.

“So, you’re coming to save the day after all, my lord.” ‘They seem to know each other,’ Amy quietly muttered to herself. “Cut it out!” Shadow yelled angrily. He increased his grip on her. “Are you hurt?” Shadow asked his student. She shook her head at him, never been more relieved to see him. His courtesy towards her sent a rush of adrenaline to her chest. She watched how he confidently moved to master his opponent with his muscular arms. Amy loved how strong and masculine he was, but was suddenly alarmed when she saw this ‘Rouge’-woman seriously struggle to breathe.

“H-hear me out, Shadow!”

“You’re unreliable and corrupt to the core! Give me one reason why I would listen to you!”

A series of coughs and grated voice followed from her almost clenched shut throat in attempt to get him to listen to her. They turned into background sounds when his girlfriend called him to order, afraid he’d push it too far. The grip on her neck reduced at once, grasping both of her wrists instead now. Shadow then lost his balance when she suddenly disappeared underneath him and he tumbled unto the floor. That darn bat with her endless number of spells!

“My, my. It seems you have forgotten how well I know my ways around the sacred arts there, knight.”

Rising to already to lash at her again, he was dumbfounded when he turned around. His girl gasped and let out a high-pitched squeak, seeing how the dagger of the woman lightly scratched her neck. He sighed and lowered his sword. “Put it in the sheathe!” Rouge ordered. Reluctantly he obeyed.

How things could become this ugly in so little time?

“Talk.” He sneered at her, crossing his arms.

“Here’s the deal: you two are going to help me out. I’ve had enough of being an outcast! My clan is on the edge of perishing. There’s not enough food, we’re poor and being used as a doormat, looked down upon and being abused way too long now!”

“How is that our problem?” “I’ll tell you: It became your problem the minute your self-discipline failed you and ya couldn’t keep your hands of this one here.”

Shadow’s eyes narrowed, disgusted by the way she portrayed him, but didn’t bother to go against it. “But of course, that all depends on how determined you are on keeping this a secret, Shadow.”

“That’s dirty! You are just loving this, aren’t you?” “You think you know me so well! I wished I wouldn’t have to do this, but I have no choice. I have to find the gemstone!” “It’s always been about luxury and prestige with you. If you’d ask me, you got what you deserved.” “Well, I am in fact not asking you, so keep your rude opinion to yourself. This isn’t about jewellery! I’m at the point where I can’t even feed my children properly anymore!”

His eyes widened in shock. He didn't know that she had kids now. “If I had simply asked for your assistance, you would’ve for sure rejected my request- that is IF you even were to hear me out in the first place. There’s no other way for me to get what I want but to blackmail you. Am I wrong?” Rouge’s bright blue orbs glistered even more brightly through the tears that filled her eyes. Amy couldn’t help feeling a little sorry for her. “Probably not.” He scratched the squills on his head in discomfort. “There’s someone who can help me and my clan to get out of this horrible situation. I need to bring him the infamous turquoise gemstone for his plans to work and the two of you are going to help me, seeing how you’re able to perform special skills and all…”

Shadow seemed to understand what she was talking about.

“What gemstone?”

“Oh, you haven’t told her? This ought to be even more interesting than I thought.”

“The special skill I performed earlier is only a sacred art spell. It’s no big deal.” Amy stated in confusion.  She did not understand what was so special about it.

“And what do you think is the source of the power allowing you to do so?” “I haven’t given it much thought actually.”

“Well then, I’ll assume you are familiar with the legend of the gemstone that was used by greedy men with a thirst of power to let destruction befall our realm in the past. The one they tell you scary tales about in kindergarten, the one which’s tremendous power is a great taboo and the use of it a violation of the law.”

Amy nodded. “That’s the one.”

“That makes no sense! It’s supposed to be sealed away in a faraway kingdom. There’s no way that could be the source of power providing us the magic of the sacred arts.”

“That’s what they want you to believe.” She pointed in the direction of the academy. “Wherever that blasted stone is located, its’ range of power has an enormous scale. Its’ influence reaches our realm, providing a mysterious power, a power all the sacred arts are based on. In fact, you’re not that different from me, a dark mage.” …

“Especially him. He seems to know his way around spells I can’t even decode, let alone perform.” “Nonsense! Shadow would never use dark magic!” “It is in fact true, Amy.” Shadow heaved a sigh. He grunted and let out a soft curse under his breath, shifting his gaze away from Amy when he saw the painful look on her face. This was not the way he wanted her to find out about this.

“And you didn’t bother to tell me?!”

“I didn’t exactly have the time, now did I? Tonight’s the first time I have ever performed a sacred art spell around you. It’s complicated…”

“I’m listening…” “As much as I’d love to listen to the two of you argue, the sun is about to rise. Once your secret is out, you’ll be useless to me,” Rouge interfered. Shadow and Amy shared a glance, silently admitting they did not have a choice but to help her. He unfolded his arms and held out his hand to the bat.

“Wonderful! We’ll meet again here tonight an hour past curfew. Don’t be late.”

Shadow ignored her, hating to be ordered around by anyone but Amy and long wishing for this nightmare to be over. He walked up to Amy and untied her to rub her sore hands, only shifting his gaze up to hers once. She kept eyeing him in a mad way and he knew that look on her face meant trouble for him. “Now warp her back to her dorm so she’ll be back in time, will ya?” “Just because we’ll be working together does NOT mean you are to interfere in our relationship. Stay out of it!” “Heh!” the bat cocked a self-complacent smile. “Relationship…Who would’ve thought?” She nonchalantly shrugged her shoulders in disbelief and closely walked past them to the ladder, briefly touching Amy’s shoulder. “You’re his weak spot, lass. The only one I could ever find,” Rouge whispered.

The bat spread her wings and flew off into the distance leaving a beaten, chagrined Shadow behind with an upset Amy. Shadows hopes on a calm, peaceful day evaporated like snow on a sunny day when he realized he yet had to spend the day practicing swordfights with her. Reading someone wasn’t one of his qualities, but her offended mood was so evidently present, there was no doubt he misunderstood this time. She brushed off the dust and straw, dressing herself in her cloak. Arms crossed and boldly making him catch her gaze before she left, she made him a wordless promise: she would not go easy on him.

Fire and torments, this is not happening!

_______________________________________

< Previous chapter: read here.

> Next chapter: read here.

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My head’s been feeling a little fuzzy over the last few days. I have no idea if this is a good follow-up to the oneshot right now xD Let me know your thoughts and whether you would like a third chapter(: I have written the draft for that already.  Send me a PM for typo’s, ideas or feedback if you will. I am an amateuristic writer and English is not my native langauge^^’ LOL.

[peace-coast-island]

Diary of a Junebug

On a cliff with a silk cherry blossom tree

I'm back with some of the Knights of the Withering Woods on a sorta spontaneous trip to see the silk cherry blossoms. By spontaneous I mean Ambrosia and I talked about it when I last visited the cafe and how it would be nice if we ended up running into each other. Then we kinda started making plans and it turned into a little get together.

So with me and Daisy Jane are Ambrosia, Latte, and Olive. Things have thankfully settled down at the Harmonious Cafe to the point where it's been pretty uneventful so the others can finally sit back.

Ambrosia's been keeping us up to date on everything regarding the cafe and everyone's lives. Although she's kinda intimidating at first, she's actually a pretty cool person, one who can easily make friends. When I first met her and the others, I was impressed by how well everyone got along like lifelong friends despite not having met until quite recently. Now I know their secret - it's Ambrosia.

Harmony and the others back at the cafe are using the down time to focus on future plans like expansion and exploring further out. With more places open to travel thanks to the Knights, more and more people are passing by the woods so Harmony wants to be able to keep up with the demand. I wonder how different the place will look the next time I drop by.

According to Olive, silk cherry blossoms signify new beginnings, moving on from the past and forging a new future. In short, they are considered lucky, especially for those who are in need of a new start or are currently embarking on a new path. All I know is that there's legends surrounding them and that they're quite rare so coming across a tree is a big deal.

Now that I've finally seen them in person, I can see what's the hype's all about. I mean, they are pretty to look at with the soft and delicate pinks and reds. But something about them makes them fascinating to look at, almost hypnotizing, for lack of a better word. Like just by looking at them, I feel reassured. I'd like to think that some things in the world have that affect on us - maybe that's how the legend of silk cherry blossoms came to be.

For Ambrosia, the blooming of the blossoms serve as a celebration for her. As of today, she's been sober for a full year, a milestone that she never thought she'd reach. Likewise, Latte's almost reached the one year mark of being sober, so knowing that Ambrosia's able to pull through gives her encouragement to do the same. It's good to see and hear that they're doing well and getting the help they need - Harmony plays a big role in that.

As for Olive, she's been going through a bit of a hard time in her civilian life so she's staying in the woods on an extended break. Basically she was friends with someone from work who seemed like a nice person but turned out to be toxic and manipulative. Said person took advantage of Olive and a bunch of other people's kindness, resulting in an abuse of power that could've ruined a lot of lives.

Speaking of that, Latte happened to find a post from one of those "am I the asshole?" threads that is definitely from that person. It's one of those things that's funny because of how unaware OP is but also sad at the same time. Based on the details, Olive knows for sure it's her. And not only that, but apparently she posted there a few times, complaining about why people don't trust her, completely unaware that she's the problem.

The post in question was about OP complaining about her former colleagues being mad at her when she asked them for their most prized possessions for research. However she tricked them and instead used the stuff to activate a potentially dangerous artifact, which didn't go so well. The items were destroyed in the process so everyone got rightfully upset at her and she doesn't understand what the big deal is since the stuff was old.

Olive reluctantly gave her an antique watch that belonged to her fiance who passed away, only after she was somewhat coerced to do so. The watch hasn't worked for years but now it's broken in pieces - which was upsetting for Olive as that was something that had been in her fiance's family for generations, being his most prized possession before passing it on to her. When OP told Olive that she was "overreacting over a piece of junk owned by a dead guy" (insensitive much?), that was the point when Olive realized that the friendship wasn't going to work out.

And there was another post from last year that made us completely roll our eyes. Basically, OP said that therapy is evil because it made her lose a friend. All because that person stood up to her and told her to fuck off. OP claims to be a "good friend" who wants to help someone do things "the right way", which just means OP manipulated that friend by taking advantage of them. Then OP had the gall to get mad when the other person not only called them out on it, but also got counseling to actually deal with their problems instead of whatever OP wanted them to do.

Olive says she kinda felt bad for that person at first - and she still kinda does - but it doesn't excuse a lot of her actions. They hadn't known each other for long but being with her took a toll on Olive's mental health. It's already bad enough that she's been going through some rough times, and that person ended up making things worse. So it's a good thing she can turn to the Knights and step away from the fallout of that. She doesn't know how long she's gonna stay in the Withering Woods other than not indefinitely because she'll have to go back to the city eventually.

For now, Olive's taking the time to deal with things as well as reevaluate some parts of her life that she's been kinda putting off for a while. I remember when I first visited the woods the other Knights said they know the least about her - it's not that she doesn't fit in, it's just that she hasn't spent as much time together with the others. It's good to see her surrounded by a good support system, especially after barely getting out of a toxic friendship.

Life may be a dumpster fire sometimes but it doesn't always have to be doom and gloom. Things go to hell a lot (some more than others, unfortunately) so it's good to find something or someone to turn to so you can try to stay afloat. That's pretty much how Harmony and the Knights came together. I'd hate to think what would happen if they didn't have each other - pretty sure some - Harmony and Ambrosia come to mind - wouldn't be alive today.

Today was one of those days where we weren't expecting much so seeing the blossoms was more special than we thought. It's one of those moods where you kinda feel like doing something but don't have the energy to put a lot of effort into it. As much as we wanted to see the silk cherry blossoms, we didn't want to turn it into such a big deal that it turns stressful and takes away from the magic of exploring and experiencing something for the first time.

None of us really felt up for a hike so we just walked around with no destination in mind. We did follow a trail for a bit before going off that, choosing whatever paths look like they require the least effort to walk through but also look like it has good spots for sightseeing. So it was a nice surprise to come across a silk cherry blossom tree up close in a spot that's not hard to get to - something that we weren't sure was possible. According to our research, the trees grow best on cliffs so the higher, the better. Compared to pictures, the one we found is on the small side but size means nothing when it comes to the beauty of the blossoms.

I think it's better that we went off the usual path, finding a silk cherry blossom tree in a place others wouldn't consider looking. Since it's the beginning of the season, there's gonna be a lot of people hiking up the cliffs, which was another reason why we didn't feel up to a trek. Having this little cliff to ourselves feels special, like finding a secret location - except it's clearly not secret as there are benches for us to sit and admire the blossoms in. I think it's just one of those places we tend to overlook because why settle here when there's something better up ahead?

As I've learned over the years, you don't have to always aim for the biggest and the best. There's nothing wrong with being content with what's there. I think part of it has to do with expectations. There's nothing wrong with having them, but I think sometimes we get wrapped up with them to the point it completely clouds our judgment. It's good to have some expectations - after all, we need something to hold on to - but it's also good to balance that with an open mind.

I went to see the silk cherry blossoms with the expectation that it'll be a pleasant view. On one hand, I wanted the full experience of climbing the cliffs and reaching the top to find the largest tree. But on the other hand, I was content with just finding a tree and being able to experience the blossoms for the first time. After all, who says you can't experience something more than once?

Maybe one day I'll venture up higher and explore the cliffs some more. And maybe I'll have a different experience with the silk cherry blossoms since I'll be seeing them in all its majestic glory. Who knows how different things will be in the future? What kind of meaning will the blossoms hold then?

[heroloverangel]

Something You Like

aka how the HELL does Hawks wear shirts?

You’re only slightly tipsy as you stumble home, giving an annoyed glance at the darkened sky and the rain that’s coming down harder by the minute. You hadn’t planned on being out this late, but there was a fun crowd at the bar and you lost track of time. You even got another chance to flirt with that cute hero you met last time. It’s been a good night; not even the increasingly heavy rain is going to ruin your mood. You lift your purse over your head in an attempt to keep dry, then without warning you feel a hand tighten firmly around your wrist from behind.

“Isn’t it a little dangerous to be waving that around? Looks like you’re just asking for trouble, cutie.” You whirl around and find yourself gawking at the smirking face of Hawks, the same hero from the bar. Before you can ask anything, he leans in close to whisper in your ear. “That creep over there’s been following you since you left. I don’t wanna start a fight, I’m just gonna walk you home.” You glance over his shoulder and can just make out a shadow hiding in the alley you passed a moment ago. You feel a chill shoot down your spine and sober up instantly. You nod and resume your walk, Hawks falling into step beside you down the street.

Gradually you relax, not quite returning to your earlier spirits but it’s hard to feel too upset with your current companion. “...He was so pissed, I swear you could have roasted a turkey on his face!” He finishes his story just as you reach your apartment building, both of you soaked from the worsening storm but laughing too hard to care.

“Thanks for everything, back there.” Reluctantly you take a step forward, seeing his wide grin fade into something more neutral as another flash of lightning illuminates the clouds. A thought strikes you, and the words are out of your mouth before you can second-guess yourself. “Do you wanna come up and wait out the rain for awhile?”

If he’s surprised, he doesn’t show it. “That’d be great.” His grin is infectious as he follows you up the stairs and into your home.

“Can I ask you a question?” Hawks looks up from your doorway, shoes halfway off and wings dripping buckets of water onto the floor. “Why didn’t you fly here? It would have been faster.”

He holds up one finger almost teasingly. “You ever seen a bird fly in a storm?” You cock your head, open and shut your mouth in confusion. You honestly have no idea if birds can fly in the rain. “Or maybe I just wanted an excuse to stick around longer.” Okay yeah, he’s definitely teasing you now. He laughs at your reaction, wings twitching and alerting you to the fact that your carpet is being soaked worse with every move. You excuse yourself to grab some dry towels, praying you have something large enough to dry his feathers.

You return a few minutes later and find him digging through your fridge like he owns the place. “There’s a microwave right there, you animal,” you scold as you take sight of the leftover teriyaki chicken enroute to his mouth and he shows you that smirk again, completely unphased at being caught sneaking food like a stray raccoon. You dump it onto a plate to heat up before tossing a towel over his damp hair, drying him off yourself to keep his teriyaki-covered fingers from staining it. His head is a fluffy mess when you pull away and two thoughts cross your mind. 

One, he’s a lot smaller than most of the pro heros you’re familiar with. His cohorts like All Might and Endeavor are massive, almost larger than life figures, intimidating just from their size alone. Hawks in comparison isn’t much taller than you, he feels more like a regular person than a living legend. It’s comforting, how normal he seems in your home.

Two, you realize you were mistaken to think of him as cute earlier. Here in your kitchen with his messy hair and that taunting grin, he’s actually wickedly, stupidly handsome. On impulse you reach up and ruffle his hair; it’s surprisingly soft and feathery between your fingers and the man in front of you practically chirps at the contact. 

Without warning his wings flap, spraying water across the room and knocking half your cooking supplies off the counter. “Hey, at least they’re mostly dry now,” he points out, giving his feathers a tiny shake as proof. He’s nice enough to help clean up before swiping the hot chicken from the microwave and sauntering over to claim your couch. You can’t help but take interest in the way he automatically unfolds his wings behind him, spreading them over the back of the furniture in a movement that’s fluid from years of practice. Something occurs to you as you watch him settle in and devour your food.

“Hey, Hawks? How do you even wear shirts? Y’know, with your wings and all?”

The hero perks up at the opportunity to show off, wipes his fingers clean of sauce and sits up to face away from you. “Watch this, it’s fun.” You keep your eyes trained on him as he pulls his arms free from his jacket and does some kind of....weird little shimmying motion with his feathers. It’s almost like he’s compressing them as he flexes his shoulders to shrug the coat off, slipping the appendages through the slits in the fabric so it can fall off behind him. He looks back at you with a wink. “Cool, huh?”

“I have no idea what you just did,” you admit, trying to figure out how he managed that maneuver. 

He shakes his head, not even bothering to hide his snort of laughter. “Okay, watch again.” Before you can protest he’s yanking at his shirt, doing that shimmying thing again that your brain point-blank refuses to understand and relaxes back against your couch, arms folded and expression smug. It’s an unfair move, it’s hard to focus on what you were seeing when there’s a half-naked demigod sitting in your living room like a king on this throne. You don’t hide your curiosity as you look him over; toned muscle showing that he puts plenty of effort into his body even though it’s unnecessary with his quirk. You tear your eyes away from his chest and meet his gaze, enjoyment clear on his face as he relishes your attention. “See somethin’ you like, huh?”

You’re not going to be out-seduced by a guest in your own home. “Yeah, I do.” You sit down, matching his grin as you curl up beside him and reach for the remote.

The two of you carry on like this for awhile, flipping through commercials and listening to the rain slam against your windows as you share the plate of chicken and crack bad jokes at each other. It feels surprisingly natural when he splays his arm across your shoulders, pulling you tighter to himself and the warmth of his body seeps into your clothes. “See something you like, hero?” you ask playfully, tilting your face up to his.

“Yeah, I do.” He can’t quite hide his smile as he leans down to kiss you. His fingers twist into your hair, holding you in place to coax your mouth open for his tongue. He tastes like teriyaki, and the beer he’d had earlier, and something indescribably Hawks that your distracted brain identifies as sexy bird, and somehow it all works for him. He bites at your lip and you groan, pressing closer against his bare chest. You break for air and he takes the opportunity to tug your shirt over your head, no weird shimmy required, and throws it over his shoulder. His fingers wrap around your waist to yank you up into his lap, wings fluttering up to cage you in. “I’m seeing a lot that I like.”

You feel yourself blushing, kissing him again to hide your reaction. He trails his hands up your bare skin, leaving goosebumps in his wake. He takes notice of your nipples hardening under your bra and wags his eyebrows. You can’t help but roll your eyes but don’t complain when he reaches up your back to pop open the hooks and slip it off you. Hawks licks his lips almost unconsciously and grabs for you, giving your breasts a firm squeeze. His lips trace along your pulse, thumbs circling over your nipples and you begin to melt into his attention. Your own hands drag down his firm abs to the front of his pants where you can feel his dick hard for you and you let out breathy sigh before fumbling with his zipper.

“Babe, chill. I’m not going anywhere,” he teases, giving you a whistle of appreciation. “Were you gonna hide these from me all night? That’s downright cruel.” He pinches your sensitive flesh in his fingers and your whimper only spurs him on to grope you more.

“Maybe we’d have got...gotten to this sooner if you hadn’t spent all night s-shoveling chicken into your mouth like--oh shit, Hawks...” your sentence trails off as his mouth leaves a trail from your collarbone down your chest to capture a nipple between his teeth. He’s got you squirming on his lap in seconds, sucking on your tender skin until you’re whining out his name with every breath. He releases you with an indecent slurp only to kiss a path across to its twin, already stiff and ready for the same treatment. You grip onto his sleek hair, raking your nails across his scalp as his tongue lathes over you, stubble on his chin teasing you to an almost embarrassing arousal. He finally separates from you after several more minutes of admiration, once you’re reduced to a panting mess on top of him and nearly pleading to be fucked.

“Sooo,” he drawls, leaning back to get a good look at you and allowing those giant wings to support your balance. “What do you wanna do now?” 

You’re already slipping out of your jeans before you answer. “Fuck me, hero.” You try to sound confident, you really do, but the request comes out sounding far too needy to be convincing. You’re not sure whether you want to slap that shit-eating grin right off his smug face or kiss it away.

He sits up a little straighter with interest, thumbs rubbing patterns into your hips and then catching the edge of your panties. That cocky smile only grows wider as he pulls your underwear down without a moment’s hesitation to see just how wet you’ve gotten for him. His hand presses between your thighs, ghosting over your clit and dragging a sigh out of you. “Wow, it doesn’t take much for you, does it?” His fingers slip into you before you can reply, scissoring your pussy open and all you can do is moan and hold on to him. You let out a little sound of disappointment when he pulls them out to lick your juices off but don’t have long to complain before he gets to the point. You can’t tear your gaze away from the movement of his hands; you watch intently as Hawks reaches for his pants and somehow manages to yank them down past his knees, taking his boxers with them and finally revealing his cock to you.

There’s no trace of self-consciousness on his face, only total satisfaction while you look him over. He’s not huge, proportioned nicely along with the rest of his body, and you have to admit it’s the best looking dick you’ve ever seen. He’s flushed such a pretty rosy color all down his length, light veins decorating him perfectly. The wide head of his cock stands eager for attention, you can’t wait to feel it buried inside you and your inner muscles clench at the idea. 

“C’mere babe,” he grabs at your hips again, voice husky as you straddle his thighs and he lines himself up to enter you. Without a second thought he’s pulling you down onto his shaft, low groan in his throat as you sink down to take him. Your cunt is so wet you offer no resistance and he bottoms out inside you in one firm thrust. A choked little gasp escapes you and he pauses, fingertips tracing a random pattern along your thighs. “You okay there?” You nod, offering a little smile of your own as you adjust to the fit and the soothing touch of his hand stops to grip firmly at your hips. “That’s good. Hold on to me.”

You know how fast Hawks can move; you’ve seen plenty of videos from his fights. You’re expecting to get fucked at some near-inhuman speed, your brain scrambled inside your skull like a plate of eggs. He surprises you instead, holding you close and rutting up inside you slowly enough to make you intimately familiar with every inch of his cock sliding in and out of you. It’s unexpectedly intimate and you find yourself focusing on his face, where he’s still giving you that same pleased smirk. “I take my time when it matters,” he explains simply, pulling you down to meet his grinning lips. Another roll of his hips has you breaking away to let out a shaky whimper as his dick presses against your g-spot.

“F-faster, Hawks,” you pant, struggling to speed up against the steady hold on your hips keeping you in place. There’s a spark of mischief in his eyes that makes something in your stomach fip.

“Ask me nicely,” he teases, squeezing your hips down just a bit more to thrust deeper in your pussy. Well, you’re not going to beg; you have too much pride for that. You clamp your mouth shut and he laughs, wings flexing around you and grazing your back. “Bet I can make you ask for it,” he challenges, gaze never leaving yours and you can feel sweat trickle down your back.

Your partner keeps one hand firmly in place to control your movements but lets the other one roam over your body. You’re hyper aware of the path of his fingers while he circles your navel, tickling over your stomach and ribs and up to your breasts. He pinches at your nipple without warning and you cry out despite yourself and instinctively tighten around his dick in response to the simulation. “You’ve got a real nice voice,” he huffs out, voice rough and you think to yourself that you really shouldn’t enjoy the sound of it quite so much.

You’re not going to beg; you shut your eyes so you don’t have to look at that absolutely sinful expression on his face as he continues to fuck you at a brutally slow pace. Hawks shows no sign of giving up, he’s only spurred on by the squeezing of your cunt that you can’t control. He pulls you closer, nips at your ear and his tongue follows a bead of sweat running down your throat. His lips find your nipple again and suddenly it’s hard to breathe, your eyes snap open and the bastard winks at you, sucking it into the heat of his mouth and you can’t stop the way you clench tight around his dick.

You’re not going to beg, you remind yourself as a sound coming out of you that’s shamefully close to a whine slips out. You’re not going to beg, even when he lets go of your nipple with a wet pop and targets the other one. You’re not going to beg-

You’re so distracted by his attack on your breasts you don’t even notice him finally releasing your other hip to rub his calloused thumb over your clit, and your resolve snaps like a rubber band.

“Fuck, Hawks. Please, go h-harder! I need more, please. I-” your words devolve into a needy moan and his attention to your clit speeds up.

“See, all you had to do was ask.” His unoccupied hand reaches over to squeeze hard at your ass and he picks up speed, your body following along with his movements. “Was that so hard, honey?” His smile is taunting but you love it, your greedy cunt milking him for anything he’ll give you. You cry out for him and his grip tightens to pull you up and down faster on him; you wonder if he’s getting as close as you are. You relish every second he’s got you bouncing on his cock, his hand continuing to make quick work on your throbbing clit and you can feel yourself starting to come undone.

“H...god, Hawks, I’m gonna come, you feel-mmm, feel so good...” you manage to pant out in his ear, unsure if you feel lightheaded from the sex or the heat of your bodies trapped within his wings. He redoubles his efforts, thrusting up inside you with even harder, faster strokes and his touch against your clit becomes almost painfully intense. Your climax comes with his lips sucking a red mark into your neck, your own hands buried in his messy hair and your ragged voice squealing his name over and over.

He doesn’t last much longer once your own needs are taken care of. He fucks you at that same frantic speed for a few more minutes, enjoying the sight of your breasts jiggling with every rapid motion of his body as you do your best to keep up with it. Lucky for you both, he’s got enough sense to slam on the breaks and pull out at the last moment, painting your shaky thighs and stomach with his cum only seconds after retreating.

“Shit.” Hawks falls back against the couch and spreads his wings out to allow you to slip from his lap and sprawl uselessly beside him on the cushions. The two of you sit together for a minute, slowly catching your breaths and shooting each other satisfied glances. “Now that’s how you spend a rainy day,” he jokes and it’s so stupid you can’t help but laugh.

You’re a good host and remember to toss the dirty plate from earlier into the sink and offer him some water after that workout, and then excuse yourself to the bathroom to clean up the mess he’s made of your body. You come back out wearing an old t-shirt and fresh underwear and find yourself a little disappointed to see him slipping his own clothes back on. You watch him pull his jacket on, doing that same weird little shimmy from earlier to get his wings through the slits and have to admit that you still don’t understand how that works.

“Oh, are you leaving? You don’t have to, you can stay over if you want.” You try not to sound too hopeful.

He shrugs his shoulders and gives you a sad little smile. “Sorry, I gotta get back to work soon. A hero’s job is never done, and all that.” He puts his shoes back on then stops for a moment and steps over to you. You’re pulled in for a quick kiss before he opens the door. “I’ll see you around,” he calls before walking out. You’re not surprised to see a red blur flying past your window after another minute, soaring higher up into the clearing sky.

You sigh quietly and settle back down on your couch, reaching for your phone to distract yourself. You never bother to lock it simply for convenience’s sake, and you pause at the fact that there’s an open text to an unfamiliar number on your screen. You read it and grin when you realize who was using your phone.

🐔 the food’s my treat next time 🍴

[fanficsforpogchamps]

The SDC bois with a reader who tries to bite at them whenever they get too close for their comfort, not caring if the have a so called 'stand'

Headcanon! Touchy-Feely

Warnings: None except a few naughty words 👀 enjoy!

My Jotakak fanfic is coming soon, but keep the requests coming lovely! I’d enjoy writing your scenarios and Headcanons for every good boi out there!

(I hope this is okay! I’ve done both emotionally and physically, like actually physically biting them lmao. It was fun, so Thank you for the first request :)) )

Jotaro Kujo-

;This man is not exactly emotion material, he doesn’t understand them at the best of times, so when he sees you being recluse and lugging behind the group, he shrugs and carries on his merry way.

; he learnt from his old man that you were their translater, but had acquired no stand- and so when you first snap at him using your teeth when he brushed against your arm in a crowded market Star Platinum shot out immediately, expecting a fight. But when no Stand appeared, the larger, more colourful Jotaro was ever so confused.

; your teeth were firmly locked into his fingers as they had been wiping some sweat from your forehead. The beads were trickling down and it bothered the hell out of him, and it was only when you let go did he see that you made a sizeable mark on his middle and fore finger.

; “you annoying bitch,” Jotaro had growled, itching at the marks left by your teeth, and you slinked away back to Avdols shadow where you resided for the rest of the trip... until they tried to get you to stay behind when they found DIOs mansion.

; “you don’t have the powers we do, you need to stay behind and live, if not for us,” Avdol tried reasoning, but your stubbornness is why earned you your title as a Stardust Crusader. But when the man, the myth, the legend, Jotaro Kujo has started to approach you, there was an internal battle. Even after a few feet he was already waaaay beyond your comfort zone. “Do as they say, and just stay behind. DIO will most likely kill you if you go in without our powers,”

; die? You will? You had bared your teeth at him before spitting out a harsh “fine,” and turned away from the group. “I know I don’t have a Stand... whatever they are. But you all better come back to me alive,”

Kakyoin Noriaki-

; Kakyoin was a very naturally comfortable person to be around, I mean hell, even Jotaro was happy when he had returned from hospital (but that’s further on-)

So when your teeth managed to snag at Kakyoins expensive school jacket on the Strength boat, he was a little more than surprised to say the least.

; he physically recoiled, before shaking his head and gently prying off your teeth. “Now now (Y/N),” he chuckled nervously, before managing to get the fabric from your teeth without damaging it. “No need to act like a dog now do we?”

;you had nearly died in that damned boat and was now out at sea again, having to deal with the infuriating closeness of everyone- but it seemed there was already a gap between both your sides as they all favoured to huddle further up the raft.

; “we don’t want your teeth in our clothes! I paid a lot for these!” Joseph cried out accusingly, finger shoved in your face to signify that there was distrust with you. That... hurt. Despite your emotional turmoil previously with them it still hurt when the man jabbed a finger your way. “Shut the fuck up old man before I shove your head under the water,” you snapped, arms crossed over your chest.

; That seemed to have shut Joseph up, as he cowered away, before Kakyoin started laughing. That was amazing! He knew there was something special about you. “Ahhh don’t mind him (Y/N), he gets paranoid,” Noriaki tired to inform you, managing to brighten up the mood from the older Joestar bringing it down a notch. “He needs to watch where he’s pointing that finger, or he will have to add another mechanical limb to the list,”

; it made Kakyoin smile, seeing as you full well meant every word you spoke and clearly Joseph was using your temper against you. Kakyoin shifted in his seat before sliding across to sit closer to you, and nudging your shoulder with his own.

; too close too close too close- is all you thought of as The red headed Japanese school student slid closer and closer to you. Despite the size of the raft you had been comfortable with no one being near you, but now that he was closer you felt your heart stop.

;”Don’t take no offence. He’ll learn his lesson soon enough,”

Jean-Pierre Polnareff-

;when you had stepped off the plane with Iggy, the man thought you was the most gorgeous thing in the world, so when his flirtatious advances caused him to nearly jump out of the desert buggy- he was shocked.

; The Frenchman swore out in french, gesturing vividly for dear life as he had come to realise maybe.. maybe you weren’t as nice as you were portrayed to be? Maybe he should stay away?

; Blast it all to hell! Polnareff thought as he continued to fling flirty-esq comments your way. The travel was hot, and on you lap was Iggy- the animal which had processed to rip out a lot of his silver locks which were gorgeously prepared this morning. He scowled, before turning up his nose and giving up for a while.

; if it hadn’t been for you baring your teeth and snapping the words “dirty bastard” at him, he wouldn’t have stopped the flirting behaviour, but something about the way you flared up at him made him believe you were a full blown Stand user. Because god knows that only stand users would be that aggressive.

;but when he found out you was just another normal person; unable to grasp the thoughts or view his glorious Silver Chariot his heart sunk. So you was just another heartless tease then. He nearly cried at the idea of someone as beautiful as you being a dastardly tease, set to destroy him.

;The buggy had been overturned, and Polnareff was clutching Kakyoins body. You had reluctantly hopped on top of the car as well, your body pressed against Jeans because of N’Doul. You could see the mental struggle in his eyes. He didn’t want to get too close to you- yet he needed to keep Kakyoin safe. So you opted to helping him, fingers wrapping around the uniform of your cherry loving friend and dragging him just a bit higher up the buggy.

;”I may not have a stand to help,” you choked out, struggling slightly. “And I may not be able to see yours- but I’m going to help right now,”

;from then Polnareff could see you was a determined person, and while you possessed no stand it drove you to help more. You would be useless in the eyes of anyone else- but Jean-Pierre Polnareff could see your worth from the moment you thought of helping them.

Joseph Joestar-

;Joseph knew you weren’t a Stand user from the start, as you hadn’t been able to see Purple Hermit when you met him. You were a translator, and as much as Joseph loved visiting Japan- it hurt him when he tried to order in English and no one could understand him, which is why you were with him.

; you used to be such a good kid, so social and friendly- yet when he met you again it was hard to believe you were the same person. You were snappy and seemingly always grumpy, ready to bite someone’s head off if they spoke wrongly. You nearly gave someone a heart attack at a store because they bumped into you, and the look from your eye caused them to sweat profusely.

; When you met Holly however, your sour mood disappeared almost completely and underneath emerged the soft child you once was, a small smile on your face as you chatted with his daughter.

;He knew holly had that affect on people but on you? He was sure it wouldn’t work yet here you were, small Japanese tea cup in your grasp and a soft laughter to your words.

;The only way he knew you was real was when you were alone with him again, and he decided to open his big mouth and ask about why you was so nice to Holly- when your teeth suddenly bit down on his metal hand which had been waved too close to your face.

;his signature ‘OHHH MY GOOOUDDDD!’ Was raised from his voice as he viewed the missing fingers off his metallic hand. “Don’t be so loud asshole, Kakyoin is still asleep,” you had snapped, before dropping the fingers in his lap and sighing.

; the one time you showed any sort of love or kindness towards him was... well... the airport. Your entire journey led up to this moment, the three people you stood besides were sobbing, and there was a small tear that slipped across your cheek- a moment of weakness that Joseph caught as you all recognised the harrowing details of your journey... it was over-

; “I miss their faces,” you admitted to him, one hand over his metal one for some sort of comfort as you both rested in your plane seats. You felt his thumb graze your knuckles as he held your hand close. You knew he had lost Ceaser, Speedwagon, Lisa Lisa, Erina... and now Avdol and Kakyoin. It must be hard, and you felt sympathy for him, yet never disclosed this to him.

; “I know, so do I,”

Muhammad Avdol-

;his first snippet of your uncomfortable boundaries was when he first met you with Joseph Joestar, watching as you managed to snag the coat arm of the elder JoJo as the coat had smacked your nose softly as his arm raised in greetings.

;He knew from then on to avoid you, or just not to get beyond your boundaries. He was not exactly going to bother you if everyone wanted the best trip. He smiled back at you occasionally to allow you the knowledge that he was there and would respect you.

;you had only snapped at him once, but he expected it. His body appeared to move in front of you at a ghostly pace, almost as if arisen from the dead.

; you had weeped over his body, mourned and sobbed despite your harsh exterior. The tears nearly flooded from your eyes at his sudden appearance, but the anger boiled and bubbled over that sadness you felt.

;”So is there just s reason why I was not told?” You inquired, body remaining frozen as your shoes firmly remained placed in the sand of the beach. “Don’t give me the BULLSHIT you told Polnareff,” there was the snap that made Avdol twitch alway. “Let’s get this DIO shit over with so I can formally beat you all,” your teeth bared at them, before you composed the calm exterior you once had and made your way to the submarine.

;Avdol knew you meant well, the shock must have been fully graced if you admitted to pouring the contents of your heart out when his body had just been moved to an infirmary. A small smile crossed his lips as you passed him, head set forward and confidence leaking from your body as if you had a new ideal.

;”I’ll hold you too that (Y/N),” he smiled, hands now slipping into his sleeves as he followed your path with the rest of the Crusaders.

[psychosistr]

The Third Caballero- Chapter 1

Summary: Donald Duck is spending Christmas with his family and closest friends, enjoying the festivities and sharing some exciting news with his partners, Panchito and José.

Notes: This is a Ducktales/Legend of the Three Caballeros Anastasia inspired AU. Credit for the inspiration goes to @levtuve​ for making these really cool pictures that gave me the idea to write this story!

Next Chapter->

It was yet another lively night in the municipality of Vera Cruz, Bahia- a bright and vibrant port town located in Brazil. Party-goers were out in full swing, celebrating Christmas Eve throughout the state with lots of energy and loud calls of “Feliz Natal!” and “Feliz Natal e Feliz Ano Novo!”.

One surprising location for festivities was a huge, lavish mansion along the coast with a large, embellished golden image of an American dollar sign on the front of the building- making it look more than a little gaudy compared to the other buildings along the coast, but the owner of the mansion and its residents hardly minded. Well, more accurately, most of them were temporary residents, as this was actually one of several vacation homes/work bases for the richest duck in the world- Scrooge McDuck.

Normally, the grumpy old miser wasn’t one for parties, but it was a special occasion: It was his grand-nephews’ first Christmas! His niece, Della, had brought three bouncing baby boys into the world back in April (though the bouncing didn’t really begin until they hatched a month later, even if Della’s brother, Donald, almost made one bounce when he accidentally dropped one of the eggs) and this year marked many of their first holidays with the family. Scrooge promised himself that after their first birthday party, the over-abundance of joy and expensive festivities would be reigned back for at least another ten years. He wasn’t made of money, darn it all…even if he did have more of it than anyone could probably spend in a lifetime…

Still, all things said and done, it was a pretty lively party. Not one of his corporate-level holiday bashes where he invited business associates and every coworker under the sun (those were saved for back in Duckburg), but all of the family, friends, and friends of family and family of friends that turned up certainly ensured a full-house. There was music in the air, people dancing and singing Christmas songs in a variety of languages, and a large spread of food and drinks from around the world.

One happy-go-lucky duck in particular, Scrooge’s nephew Donald, seemed to be having the time of his life. It was a special occasion, so, instead of wearing his usual blue sailor outfit, he donned a sleek black-and-white one with a matching cap- special occasions deserved special outfits, after all.

Donald didn’t normally like places so packed with people that he kept bumping into someone every five seconds, but it was hard to be upset when each accidental collision resulted in a much needed conversation or an excited hug. He kept going back and forth between various family members he hadn’t heard from in a while due to his service with the navy, friends he hadn’t seen in person aside from the occasional video call, and his sister who was singing Christmas carols to her boys while attempting to feed them or at least prevent them from eating their new toys.

The one group he kept coming back to most, though, was a pair of brightly colored birds who certainly stood out amongst all the ducks and geese in the room: One was a green parrot dressed in a yellow outfit resembling a classic Malandros with a matching hat and a black bowtie on his high white collar. He had an air of charm about him as he smoked a cigar (careful to do so far away from the bebês, of course) and leaned against a black umbrella in his hand as if it were a cane. The other bird was a brown and red rooster with white hands dressed in a red outfit consisting of charro pants and a bolero jacket with spurs on his feet, a gun belt with two holstered pistols around his waist, and a giant sombrero on his head. He came off as more energetic than his green counterpart, but it was the kind of energy born of excitement and happiness that was incredibly infectious to anyone who approached him.

“José! Panchito!” Donald made his way to the pair for what was probably the fiftieth time that night, this time haphazardly balancing stacks of plates and over-filled cups in his arms. “Hey! Sorry I took so long!” Donald started in his odd but unique voice as he brought over the food and drinks. “There was a HUGE line for the pu-” His sentence turned into one of his infamous squawking sounds when his foot caught on the edge of the fancy imported rug under their feet. “!!!!” He started to fall over, arms flailing and the food and drinks becoming airborne.

The other two birds acted quickly, springing into action to assist their amigo.

First the green parrot, José, moved towards Donald and caught him mid-fall with one arm. He smiled charmingly at the flustered duck and, with a chuckle, gave him a wink that made the other’s cheeks turn red under his white feathers. “This is the fifth time tonight I’ve had to catch you, querido. If you wanted a dance, you could have just asked.” With his unoccupied hand, José gave his umbrella a twirl so that it pointed upwards and, with surprising accuracy, moved it so that he caught the three glasses of fruit punch in a neat stack right on the tip of his umbrella without spilling a drop on the expensive (though likely bought for a bargain) rug.

“¡Ay, caramba!” Meanwhile the rooster, Panchito, made a bit of a show out of catching the plates of food. He jumped into the air to catch the first plate in his left hand, then, while still in the air, he tapped the next closest plate with his foot so that it careened close enough to be caught in his right one. He did a flip before landing dramatically on one knee with his head angled slightly, the third plate landing perfectly on the tip of his sombrero. At a round of applause from the few onlookers nearest the trio, Panchito jumped back up to his feet and gave a bow of his head in thanks (careful not to tip the plate on his hat over) before joining his amantes and catching the end of the green one’s sentence. “Haha! I dunno, Zé- this is about what I’d expect from our Donald’s dance skills!” He joked while holding their plates out for them.

“Not true!” Donald tried to defend himself while standing up fully to (somewhat reluctantly) get out of José’s arms. “I can samba just fine, and you know it!” His cheeks puffed out as he sulked, grabbing the offered plate of food and stuffing a handful of chips into his mouth while muttering angrily under his breath.

“Sim, sim, we know, querido.” José chuckled softly while lowering his umbrella, allowing each of them to grab their drink from the stack on its tip. Once all the drinks were safely in-hand, he twirled the umbrella back around and let the hook of the handle catch on his arm, freeing his other hand to take his own plate from Panchito as well. “Though, you do have to admit, something does usually end up breaking whenever you dance.”

“No it doesn’t!” Donald tried to defend himself again, becoming even more aggravated and flustered. “At least…not when I dance with you guys…” He mumbled the last part of his sentence, glancing away and nibbling on a celery stalk in an attempt to avoid saying anything else.

The other two birds gazed at him with equally fond looks and soft smiles on their faces.

“El es tan lindo.” Panchito sighed.

“Ele é muito fofo.” José sighed at the same time.

Grinning, the two latin birds came up on either side of Donald, effectively trapping him between them, and gave him a matching pair of kisses on his cheeks.

Donald squawked and nearly dropped his food and drink again, his whole face turning red enough to be seen through his feathers this time. “H-Hey! Cut that out! Give me a warning next time!”

Panchito let out a loud laugh and hooked his arm around Donald’s shoulders. “Como quieras, mi amigo! From now on we’ll tell you every time we’re about to kiss you!”

“Concordo.” José said while sliding his own arm around Donald’s waist so that his hand rested on his opposite hip. “For example: We’re about to kiss you again.” Was the only warning he gave before he and Panchito each gave him another kiss on the cheek.

Donald groaned and tipped his head down, unable to hide his face in his hands since they were both full and effectively being held away from him due to the arms wrapped around him. “You two are despicable…”

“No, merely incorrigible!” José corrected with a smile. “We have to get our fill of you before your next tour.”

Although it came off as light-hearted and flirtatious, the reminder of their imminent separation during Donald’s naval tours never failed to bring a touch of somberness and melancholy to their mood.

“Speaking of,” Panchito started while squeezing Donald’s shoulders a touch tighter, though never enough to actually hurt him, of course. “When are you being sent out again? Any ideas, amigo?”

“Actually…” Donald began, swallowing even though he had nothing in his mouth at the moment. “I wanted to talk to you guys about that.”

“??” A matching pair of inquisitive, curious eyes looked at Donald expectantly.

“Not here.” Donald said while glancing around at the bustling, packed room full of beloved but nosey family members.

He gestured for them to follow him with a nod of his head towards the staircase leading to the upper levels of the mansion- an area that wasn’t currently being used for the party and was mostly empty at this time. José and Panchito followed him up the steps and through the long hallways without hesitation, eagerly anticipating their dear friend’s words. They all made sure to finish their food and drinks along the way to ensure there would be no distractions whatsoever, leaving the dishes on a coffee table in the hall to be collected on their way back.

Once they were all standing together in the mansion’s library with the door closed to block out any bits of conversations from unintentional eavesdroppers, Panchito finally broke the silence the three had been walking in on their way up. “What did you want to tell us, amigo? Did something happen?” He was concerned. It normally took a lot to break the rooster’s good mood, but Donald being quiet was worrisome to anyone who knew the duck as well as he and José did.

Judging by the look on the parrot’s face, he shared his parceiro’s concerns. “Are you in some sort of trouble?”

“Yes- I mean, no.” Donald quickly corrected himself when he saw that his initial answer was about to trigger a flurry of worried questions. He held his hands up in a disarming gesture, hoping to show them that it wasn’t anything bad. “Yes, something happened, but, no, I’m not in trouble.” He clarified before lowering his hands. He took a deep breath, held it for a second, then exhaled to try calming himself down before continuing. “I’m done with the navy.”

“!!!!” His words earned surprised expressions and slack beaks from his friends.

As expected, Panchito was the first one to speak again. “¡¿Lo dice en serio?!” His surprise turned to protective fury in an instant. “Did someone give you trouble?! Just give me a name and I’ll-!”

“Easy, Panchi.” José soothed his partner with a calming hand on his tensed shoulder. “Let him finish.”

At a reluctant nod from the still tense caballero, Donald continued. “It’s okay, Panchito, I was honorably discharged.” He explained, easing the other bird’s mood considerably. “I just..” He fumbled with his words for a moment, as he so often did. “I thought it over and talked to my superior officers about it..and..I decided to quit. Della’s gonna need help raising the boys- family help, not just a sitter or a nanny that Uncle Scrooge is gonna hire.”

“So, then, you are moving back to Duckburg?” José questioned with an understanding nod.

“Yeah.” Donald smiled a little bit, running a hand over the feathers on the back of his head. “It’ll be nice to go home again…but…” He looked away for a moment, uneasiness and nervousness clear on his face as he fought with his words again. “I..wanted to see if you guys..well..do you wanna..maybe……go on a trip together before going back to Duckburg?”

“A trip?” The two colorful birds repeated back at the same time curiously.

“Mhm.” Donald nodded, growing slowly bolder with his words as he spoke more freely. “Della brought the houseboat with her, it’s parked out by the docks- she’s gonna be staying with Uncle Scrooge at the mansion back home so the boys have a safe place to grow up- and I really wanted to go on another adventure with you guys!” The house boat was technically Donald’s, as having a mobile address made more sense than a house he’d barely stay at, and he usually found someone to leave it with whenever he went overseas for work. Truthfully, he hadn’t had a set address since the trio left Quackmore. “We can go back to Mexico, or tour Brazil again, or go somewhere new- anywhere we want! And we’ll be living on the boat full time, so we can stay in Duckburg as long as we want and just pack up and leave whenever we need to take a break and go somewhere else and-”

In the midst of Donald’s excited rambling, José picked up on one key bit of information that Donald had inadvertently let slip. “Um momento.” When Donald stopped talking, this time being the one to give the other bird a curious look, José returned it with a brow raised in question as he asked for clarification. “Are you saying you would like us to move in with you?”

Panchito blinked as the realization dawned on him as well, looking between José and Donald with a gasp. “¡¿Qué?!”

Donald blushed, realizing that he had jumped straight into talking about the idea without actually ASKING them if that’s what they would want as well. They’d all enjoyed their time living together before, but it had been a few years since those days in the crowded cabana (then later in the lavish mansion they were given for a short time). “Ummm…y-yes? Sorta? Only if you want to!” He started getting nervous again, subconsciously fiddling with the hem of his shirt. Oh no, was he blowing it? Maybe they didn’t want to? Of course not, they were adventurers that belonged in beautiful, tropical rainforests and wild plains, not cooped up in a crummy old house boat with him and-

“AAAAAIIIYYYYYHAAAAAAA!!!” Panchito let out one of his infamously loud gritos and practically tackled Donald, scooping him up in a hug that lifted the startled duck clear off the ground. “¡Este es el mejor regalo de Navidad!”

“Donald!” José was quick to join in on the hug, ending up on Donald’s other side after Panchito opened his arms just long enough to scoop his other compañero up off the ground as well. He smiled while looking at the slightly startled, but mostly embarrassed, duck trapped in the loving embrace with him. “Sim! We would love to do that!”

“R-Really?” Donald asked, still nervous that they didn’t actually want to, but so hopeful at the same time.

“¡Claro!” Both replied with matching grins and looks of excitement on their faces. To prove they meant it, they peppered Donald’s face with kisses until he finally believed them and relaxed.

“Stop that!” The trapped duck said between bursts of laughter, pushing at their heads in an attempt to escape the onslaught. He didn’t really want it to stop, though- he was just as happy and excited for the future as they were.

“Ah!” Panchito gasped with a big smile on his face as he released them. “You know what this moment needs?” He reached up into his sombrero and pulled out his guitar (the other two would never understand how he made it fit in there without magic). “¡Música!”

Donald and José chuckled at the taller  bird’s enthusiasm before he started strumming out a tune that was more than familiar to both of them. By the time Panchito began to sing, they were already moving to the rhythm.

“We’re three caballeros! Three gay caballeros! They say we are birds of a feather.”

Donald and José flapped their arms and made whistling noises to imitate smaller birds as they danced around Panchito.

“We’re happy amigos. No matter where he goes-”

José sang the next part while standing shoulder to shoulder with Panchito. “The one, two, and three goes!”

“We’re always together!” Donald finished the line and stood on José’s other side.

They laughed and jumped around for a moment, letting out happy shouts and whistles before dancing to the next verse that Panchito sang.

“We’re three happy chappies, with snappy serapes. You’ll find us beneath our sombreros!” He threw his sombrero in the air, letting it land on the ground so they could dance around it before he kicked it back up to land on his head. “We’re brave and we’ll stay so. We’re bright as a peso.”

“Who says so?” Donald asked with a fake look of confusion.

“We say so!” José and Panchito responded as they playfully elbowed him.

“The three caballeros!” All three of them sang together with a smile, José even lifting his umbrella to his beak briefly to play it like a trumpet before they continued. “Ohhhhhh!”

“We have the stars to guide us.” Panchito continued while pointing out the window with his guitar. “Guitars here beside us-” He strummed his with a flourish, as he was currently the only one with a guitar. “To play as we go!” He gave a spin, José and Donald joining him in the swaying motion afterwards. “We sing and we samba. We shout ‘ay caramba’!”

“What means ‘ay caramba’?” José asked in a normal voice, even though they all knew the answer to that by now.

“Oh, yes..” Panchito gave a shrug, feigning ignorance. “I dunno.” They all burst into uproarious laughter at that one.

“Ohhhhh!” They all sang together after their laughter subsided.

“Through fair or stormy weather…” Panchito began the next verse.

José and Donald finished the line for him, standing on either side of him with arms around the rooster’s shoulders. “We stand close together- like books on a shelf!”

“And pals though we may be,” Panchito continued, nodding towards an old poster of a lovely carnival girl on the wall with a wink. “When some latin baby, says ‘yes’, ‘no’, or ‘maybe’-”

They all gave a wolf whistle and pretended to shove at each other as they finished the verse together. “Each man is for himself!”

Though there was more to the song, they decided to end it there (mostly because they were all laughing too much to continue singing). Panchito tucked the guitar back up into his hat and scooped his laughing compadres up into another embrace- one that the other two gladly returned. Singing their song, a special one that was just for the three of them, always left them smiling and laughing and feeling close to each other like nothing else in the world ever could.

In all fairness, though, the thought of living together and traveling the world side-by-side again in the soon-to-be future was a VERY close second.

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

After the three amigos finished talking and having some quality time together upstairs, they rejoined the party below. José and Panchito complied with Donald’s request not to say anything about his early retirement- Donald wanted to tell his family at his own pace, starting with Scrooge and Della and then slowly spreading the word to his closer cousins (though some would likely find out anyway through the proverbial grapevine).

Donald spotted Scrooge sitting with Della and the boys, the one in red (Huey, he reminded himself) trying to climb up the older duck’s shoulders while Della was bouncing the blue and green ones (Dewey and Louie, gosh it was a good thing they started dressing them in different colors- telling them apart at this age was difficult) on her legs while the two grownups talked. Waving a momentary farewell to José and Panchito, Donald left their sides to go speak to his family.

As he drew closer, Scrooge looked up at him with one eyebrow raised in question. “Y’ didn’ leave a mess up there, did y’? ‘cause I’m not payin’ the maids extra for cleanin’ a whole ‘nother floor.”

Donald flinched slightly, remembering the dishes they’d left upstairs. “Just a few plates, Uncle Scrooge. I’ll clean them up, promise.”

Scrooge noted the reply and shrugged, looking down at the baby that had moved over into his lap. “Ah, if that’s all, then it’s fine. You lot were up there for so long, we thought y’ were-”

“Uncle Scrooge!” Della cut him off while placing one hand on each side of her children’s heads to cover their ears, pressing their fluffy heads together to cover the other ones in an attempt to mute the conversation. “Not in front of the boys!”

Scrooge rolled his eyes a little. “Aye, I’ve got it- no need for the ‘evil eye’.” He held Huey out towards Donald when the baby started squirming and making grabby hands in his younger uncle’s direction. “Now then, I know that look- what’s on your mind, lad?” He asked after Donald grabbed the baby, giving Scrooge a chance to finally stretch his arms and legs properly.

Donald held the little fluffy baby dressed in a red onesie gently in his arms, looking down at him with a soft, caring smile. Seeing his nephews like this, as well as the rest of his family, definitely made his life-altering decision much easier. “I’ve got some big news…”

He spent a few minutes telling Scrooge and Della what he’d told his partners earlier (Della having almost the same reaction as Panchito and threatening to feed someone to a shark until Donald calmed her down). By the end of his explanation, he was met with two tender, grateful smiles.

“Aww..Donald..” Della’s eyes were misty with unshed tears. She moved the boys in her lap over to lean against one arm so she could rub her sleeve across her face before motioning for him to come in for a hug. “Come on, bring it in- you’d better not leave me hanging, bro!” She grinned and made a grabby motion with the extended hand like Huey had earlier to get attention.

Memories of several years-worth of aggressive tackles and feather-removing noogies flashed through his mind. “Yeah, yeah, I know what happens if I do that.” Donald said after shifting Huey to one arm as well and leaned down to hug his sister.

They embraced for a moment, the loving bond between the siblings still so incredibly strong. After all these years and all the times they had to be apart over that time, it would be nice getting to live near each other again.

Scrooge regarded them with a fond smile. The look in his eyes silently saying that he was proud of them, proud of his niece and nephew and the fine adults they’d grown into over the years. “When can we expect y’ back in Duckburg, then?”

Donald sat down properly in a chair next to his sister, the two of them bringing the boys closer together so they could play and babble at each other easily. “I’m not sure. I’m gonna go on a trip with Panchito and José, first, and we’re not sure where yet. After we go on one more big adventure, we’ll move the houseboat over to the docks by Duckburg-”

“You guys are moving in together?!” Della asked with an excited smile. Her voice, unfortunately, came out too loud in her eagerness and it startled the babies who looked about ready to cry. “Ah! Sorry! Mama’s sorry! Shh, shh, it’s okay!” She rocked and patted them while speaking in a hushed voice until they all calmed down and went back to their baby-talk. With the potential crying crisis averted, Della looked back to her brother with a still excited smile, but a much softer voice. “That’s great! Ah! I can’t believe it!”

Della had been the most supportive member of his family when it came to Donald’s relationship with Panchito and José. From the day he introduced her to the two odd guys he’d gone on a world-saving adventure with, she’d made jokes about them dating, pestered them until they finally admitted they were going out, and was always the first one to ask for updates on their relationship whenever the three got together. There was no doubt in Donald’s mind that, if marriage were a viable option for the three of them, Della would be the first one to volunteer for any and all available wedding positions.

“Great,” Uncle Scrooge started sarcastically. “Two more deadbeats t’ mooch off me…”

It was mostly a joke. He didn’t mind having them over as guests, and he didn’t really mind Donald’s relationship with the other birds since they made him so happy. He just had a general irritation with people who coasted through life on good luck without much worry for their own finances.

Unfortunately, that was a way of living that the Three Caballeros were more than familiar with, whether they were adventuring or just living day-to-day. They usually got by selling off treasure they found on their adventures, finding ways to make the money last until they found a way to get more. Donald joining the navy helped to supplement his own income, and he happily shared it with the others when they needed it.

After all, that’s what they always did and always would do: Look after each other.

Life wasn’t always easy in their world. They had their share of ups and downs. They had good adventures and bad adventures. But, being friends- being FAMILY- meant looking after each other during the rougher patches so you could enjoy the brighter ones together. It was a bond that Donald wouldn’t give up for all the money in the world..

“We can look after ourselves.” Donald stated, defending both himself and his friends with that firm statement.

“Maybe so,” Scrooge had a thoughtful look on his face, as if he was weighing a few options in his head. “But..a wee bit of motivation never hurt anyone..” He got up from his seat and walked off. “I’ll be right back- don’ go runnin’ off nowhere.”

“??” Donald watched his uncle walk away with a confused tilt of his head. “O..kay..?”

His uncle was an odd one at times. Eh, what could he do, though? Family was family.

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

Scrooge caught up with Donald about an hour later, managing to catch the duck in rare moment where he was alone. “Just the duck I was hopin’ t’ see.” He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small, simple box with a red bow on top. “Thought I’d go ahead and give y’ your first Christmas present a tad early.”

Donald was certainly surprised. “Huh? A present?” He took the box and examined it closely. Giving gifts wasn’t something Scrooge was overly fond of- usually each relative only got one from him and that was it. To say he was giving Donald more than one was a little strange, even more so to do it now instead of waiting until Christmas Day like they usually did. “What is it?” He asked while untying the bow, only receiving a knowing smile from his uncle in return. Once the bow was removed, Donald opened up the box and looked inside. “A necklace?” He asked with a confused look on his face.

He pulled it out to examine it properly in the light. He had to admit, it did look nice: It consisted of a simple but somewhat wide golden snake chain with a twisting clasp on the back for the neckpiece. There was only one thing on the chain- what appeared to be a round locket the same color of gold as the chain and seemed to be welded to it to keep it in place. The middle of the locket had some sort of opaque purple glass-like material in the center of it on the front, obscuring whatever was inside and adding a touch of color to it.

While inspecting it, Donald noticed a hastily written inscription on the solid gold on the back of the locket that said “Fortune favors the brave. –See you in Duckburg.” He also found a small hidden switch along the side of the locket and, curious to see what was inside, he pressed it, causing the purple glass to pop open and reveal-

“?!!!!!” Donald made one of his surprised/startled squawking sounds. He quickly caught himself when some people started staring and slapped a hand over his beak, holding the locket close to his chest with his other hand so no one would see what was inside of it. Once everyone went back to their own conversations, writing the sound off as another one of Donald’s false-alarm overreactions, he uncovered his beak and looked to his uncle with wide eyes and a hushed voice. “Uncle Scrooge! This is-?!”

“Aye.” Scrooge nodded sagely, reaching over to carefully close the locket with one finger. “I thought it might give you lads some motivation- a chance t’ start thinkin’ about your future t’gether.” He pointed at Donald with the cane in his other hand. “Now, just so we’re clear, I’m not givin’ it to y’ for good: I’m trustin’ y’ t’ look after it with your LIFE until you can bring it back safe and sound to Duckburg. Are we clear?”

Donald nodded his head up and down vigorously. “Uh huh! Uh huh! Crystal clear, Uncle Scrooge! Thank you!”

“You’re welcome, lad.” Scrooge smiled again and walked past Donald, giving him a pat on the shoulder as he passed him. “Merry Christmas, Donald.”

Donald smiled softly at his uncle before looking back down at the locket in his hands. He brushed his thumb over the switch on the side to look at the contents of the locket again, knowing how important it was to his uncle and honored that he was being trusted with something so precious to the older duck.

“Merry Christmas, Uncle Scrooge..” He said while looking at a tiny version of his reflection looking back up at him from the small, shiny silver dime safely secured and hidden away in the locket.

This was turning out to be the best Christmas ever!

Next Chapter->

End Notes: I’ve got the first couple of chapters already written and I’ll post them as I finish final edits/proof-reading. Hope everyone likes it!

Translations:

“Feliz Natal!” and “Feliz Natal e Feliz Ano Novo!” - "Merry Christmas!" and "Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!"

“El es tan lindo.” - "He's so cute."

“Ele é muito fofo.” - "He is very cute."

Como quieras, mi amigo! - As you wish, my friend!

Concordo - Agreed.

“¡¿Lo dice en serio?!” - “Are you serious?!”

“Um momento.” - “One moment.”

“¡Este es el mejor regalo de Navidad!” - "This is the best Christmas present ever!"

“¡Claro!” - “Of course!”

And all of the other little words sprinkled throughout are different terms of endearment from both Portugese and Spanish meaning things like honey, love, dear, partner, boyfriend, etc.

[truth-and-lies-drv3-imagines]

Hello, may I please request headcanons of Shuichi, Rantaro, and Kokichi with an s/o who loves to compliment the guys but gets extremely flustered if the guys returned the favor?

Whew, now this was fun to write... got me in a good mood. I’ve written a similar request before, so I took a little inspiration from there. Thank you kind anon for requesting, hope you enjoy!

Rantaro Amami

-It’s no surprise for Rantaro tocompliment their s/o, as it happens more than the latter could expect. Everysingle time, it catches them by surprise and it all ends in intense blushingwith a bit of tsundereism on the side.

-If s/o thought they’d manage to take abreak with him around, they were dead wrong. Even in the most inappropriate ofmoments, he’d always find the time to wink or whisper sweet little nothingsinto the air. They wouldn’t hear them in most cases, but what he was trying todo was obvious enough. Cue the flustering.

-After a tiring day of work, there’snothing more precious than the peaceful silence and comfort of a bed; until acertain someone breaks the silence, that is.

-“Your skin is so soft, s/o.”

-Getting so flustered a single day getstiring easily, so with a slight blush they suck it up and throw themselves intohis chest.

Shuichi Saihara

-s/o just loves complimenting everysingle thing they notice, whether it’d be about his looks, tastes or intellect.Wholeheartedly, they believe Shuichi to be a wonder for this world, and moreso, a miracle that he decided to settle with them of all people. Yet, no matterhow stable an individual may appear, it never lasts.

-One late night, he was attempting tostudy without getting a single wink of sleep. Having woken up for some unknownreason, s/o stumbles across his tired eyes and body. They asked him nicely togo back to sleep, but it couldn’t possibly be that easy.

-“I’m sorry s/o, but I have to do this.”

-“O-oh.”

-They reluctantly go back to their bed,before they’re suddenly stopped.

-“But thank you for worrying about me.Honestly, I wouldn’t know what I’d do without you.”

-They mumble a small ‘thank you’ beforehurrying back to the bedroom in a blush.

Kokichi Ouma

-Before entering a relationship with him,there are two rules you have to abide by: never leave the panta in his sight,and prepare yourself mentally the instant you wake up. There’s no telling whatmind games he might play, but it always consists of getting deep into your headwhile taking advantage of every weakness found. Of course, that is an edgy,verbose way of putting it; all he does is excessively compliment s/o whilebeing a bit of an ass about it.

-He lives for every single stutter andblush, but not in the way s/o expects it. Evil intentions are the last thing onhis mind; he’s just cutely teasing his lover to get a reaction. It warms hisheart immensely each time.

-s/o isn’t completely harmless though.One day, they decide to fight back with all they got; and that’s…  tickles!! After the confrontation is alldone, they stop to take a breath.

-“Kokichi… you’re really cute, you know?”

-“Eeeehhhh? No way, you’re way cuter thanme!”

-Legends say, it still goes on to thisday…

[fistsoflightning]

unending character meme // zaya qestir

RULES: repost, don’t reblog! tag, and good luck!

TAGGED BY: tagged in spirit by @to-the-voiceless

TAGGING: any and all who want to do it but haven’t actually been tagged by anyone!

BASICS.

FULL NAME: Zaya Qestir

NICKNAME: none, really.

AGE: 29 by the end of Stormblood. 30-ish by the end of SHB? Haven’t figured out the time distortion thing.

BIRTHDAY: 17th of the 4th Umbral Moon (8/17)

ETHNIC GROUP: Au’ra; Xaelan

NATIONALITY: Nomad? From the Azim Steppe’s Reunion, if that helps.

LANGUAGE / S: Eorzean Sign Language, Xaelan (crude/unpracticed); understands most languages through use of the Echo

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Bisexual

ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: Demiromantic

RELATIONSHIP STATUS: dating Thancred Waters??? unsure of status during post-SHB but getting there.

HOME  TOWN /AREA: Reunion, Azim Steppe

CURRENT HOME: A shared room in the Rising Stones or a shared house in the Mist; depends on where they are at the time of night.

PROFESSION: jeweler, weaver, gladiator of the coliseum, bard teacher (appointed reluctantly by Sanson after many a problem with Guydelot’s schedule), adventurer and warrior of light

PHYSICAL.

HAIR: Straight and somewhat below shoulder length. Most of their hair is black, but slowly changes to blue and white at the tips.

EYES: Dark blue; navy color? Light blue limbal rings that glow in the dark, too.

FACE: Sharp jawline accented by their scales, often covered with some royal blue facepaint similar to Arenvald’s own.

LIPS: Often chapped, but otherwise normal.

COMPLEXION: Ashen brown? Hard to describe bc of weird lighting everywhere they go.

BLEMISHES: None

SCARS: There’s a lot, and I might make a scar map at some point??? Major ones happen to be their legs and their left arm; the legs from Ifrit and the arm from Elidibus in Zenos’s body in 4.5

TATTOOS: None, no matter how much people think the facepaint is one.

HEIGHT: Taller than the average Au’ra, about 5’4

WEIGHT: about 135 pounds

BUILD: Muscular, especially due to their main fighting style requiring muscle literally everywhere. Fistfighting for money is no small feat.

FEATURES: Their scales are an odd color (think black and blue borealis dice, but as scales), and their horns definitely look a bit… ragged. Watching them fight will give the odd realization that lightning sparks in cobalt blue come off of them sometimes.

ALLERGIES: Some undetermined fish allergy. Higiri fed them some assorted sushi once and never did again, so the Scions (and themselves) have no clue what fish they need to avoid.

USUAL HAIRSTYLE: Tied into a loose ponytail at the back. Sanson often comments how they share a hairstyle, but it’s simply from need of clear vision when moving around for monk skills and attacks.

USUAL  FACE  LOOK: Stoic as all hell. Not used to making full-on facial expressions outside of conversation, so normally looks bored.

USUAL  CLOTHING: Tabards, cyclas, or generally something with flowy fabric that doesn’t restrain movement all that much. Metal boots and gauntlets/knuckles are also common, but not always.

PSYCHOLOGY.

FEAR / S: being the last one standing, change, losing their younger siblings/younger friends, spiders, breaking a promise with their mother.

ASPIRATION / S:  To have a proper adventure, and to inspire others to live their fullest lives.

POSITIVE  TRAITS: Devoted, comforting, slightly protective, carefree

NEGATIVE TRAITS: Easily angered, impulsive, emotional, stubborn

MBTI: ISFP-T (Adventurer)

ZODIAC: Leo, apparently? Sort of fits, if you look at it closely.

TEMPERAMENT: Some crazy blend between phlegmatic and choleric? Generally carefree and easygoing with friends and willing to spend a lot of patience on them, but unrelenting and downright frightening in serious situations, especially when involving Garlemald.

SOUL  TYPE / S: Server/Caregiver

ANIMALS: Birds and dogs.

VICE HABIT / S: Drinking, although the Echo does prevent it from having any effect whatsoever, so its more of a taste thing? Tends to sleep a lot when stressed, and often spends their leftover money on gemstones for their shared collection.

FAITH: Polytheistic; the Twelve and Nhaama are gods they generally believe in.

GHOSTS?: Yes, mainly because they’ve seen one.

AFTERLIFE?: Yes.

REINCARNATION?: Probably, with how they’re sure they’ve seen someone who was supposed to be dead before

ALIENS?: before becoming Warrior of Light, it would be no, but with the revelation of Elidibus on the moon and Midgardsormr and OMEGA‌‌ (ALIEN‌ ROBOT????) they aren’t so sure anymore.

POLITICAL ALIGNMENT: Does not care enough even though they are staunch friends with Nanamo. Didn’t care enough to try and challenge Oktai for the seat of Qestiri Khatun, certainly doesn’t care enough to take a political stance in Eorzea.

EDUCATION LEVEL: Barely any; just enough to read letters written in Eorzean and faintly Ishgardian (courtesy of Alphinaud and Haurchefant).

FAMILY.

FATHER: there was one, once, but he’d rather he be forgotten in pursuit of a happier future. Zaya remembers him as Baatar, but they don’t remember if that was actually his name.

MOTHERS: Erhi, Odgerel.

SIBLINGS: Oktai (older brother), Taban (older sister), Sarnai (sister), Delger and Tuya (fraternal twins)

EXTENDED FAMILY: any of the Scions (former or current) or their fellow Warriors of Light, if we’re talking found family. House Fortemps, Aymeric, Estinien, Sanson, Guydelot, Sidurgu, Rielle, and all of the Qestiri tribe are up there too, but you know, that’s kind of a lot of gifts to be sending around during Starlight. (zaya totally sends them all gifts anyways.)

NAME MEANING /S: Zaya means fate in Mongolian, which all of the other Xaelan names seem to be based on. Their previous name, Dzoldzaya, meant light of fate.

HISTORICAL CONNECTION?: Recorded history on the Azim Steppe is easily lost, but if asking around the different tribes, one could learn about a rather prominent Qestiri warrior whose image is painted in some of the caverns nearby where much of important, unforgettable Xaelan history is recorded by the Gharl, swathed in blue cloth. In the days of Amaurot, there was one standout Amaurotine who shared a love for lightning and birds…

FAVORITES.

BOOK: They don’t know enough Eorzean to read a full book, not even a children’s book. The Echo doesn’t help with reading. Urianger has read a book of myths and legends that turned out to be true to them, however, and that has been their favorite for a while. They’ve been considering asking him to read more for them, but that’s been placed on hold after the events of the First and following Mt. Gulg.

DEITY: Nhaama, or Rhalgr, if talking to someone who thinks ‘what’s a Nhaama’ when they mention her.

HOLIDAY: Starlight Celebration. Something about the festive mood always makes them happy.

MONTH: August (4th Umbral Moon)

SEASON: Summer

PLACE: On the Source, Reunion in the Azim Steppe just because interacting with other tribes is rather fun. On the First, Il Mheg all the way!

WEATHER: Clear nights where they can trace the constellations, but it isn’t too cold to need a blanket.

SOUND / S: Excited chatter, harp, singing, small hammers clinking against metal.

SCENT /S: Rain, fresh wood, the air in Gridania, light perfume, Syhrwyda’s food.

TASTE /S: Snurbleberry, honey, most Doman seafood, buuz.

FEEL /S: Soft and smooth fabrics, cold metal, the grip of someone’s hand around theirs, wind blowing through their hair on a warm day.

ANIMAL /S: Yol, chocobo (birds!).

NUMBER: 17, for their nameday and the first year they spent in Eorzea

COLORS: Cobalt blue and indigo, pale gold, soot black.

EXTRA.

TALENTS: Extremely good when working with cloth or metal; even more so when tinkering little trinkets. Interestingly enough, very good at playing flute and harp without much practice. Expert at pulling a person’s true emotions out with simply body language.

BAD AT: Sneaking around/stealth. Do not, under any circumstance, give them a job involving secrecy or stealth unless you want it to fail. Speaking/reading is also pretty horrible, due to how they were raised. Also bad at taking change or lies well.

TURN-ONS: Loyalty, bravery despite all odds, kindness and love even when it would be easier to be otherwise, being able to understand other beliefs, and a love of freedom or new experiences

TURN OFFS: Lying to their face knowingly, extreme greed, lack of self-worth, anger for no good reason

HOBBIES: making music with Guydelot and Sanson, attempting to keep a journal, idle tinkering, dancing, gardening

TROPES: Good is Not Soft, Hope Bringer, Magnetic Hero, Omniglot, The Power of Friendship, The Quiet One, Silent Snarker, Dark is Not Evil, Five Stages of Grief, Horrifying Hero, Magic Music, Warrior Poet, Dance Battler, Warrior Monk, Determinator, Pintsized Powerhouse, Pragmatic Hero (don’t let me stay on TV‌tropes pls)

QUOTES: have a snippet of some writing?

Scrawled onto a piece of paper underneath his arm in Thancred’s handwriting and marked with Zaya’s name reads, “Your words, no matter how I react, do not change how I love you all.”

MUN QUESTIONS.

Q1: If you could write your character your way in their own movie,  what would it be called,  what style would it be filmed in, and what would it be about?          

A1: Honestly, I think there would be two movies that could include Zaya; some comedy musical revolving around Zaya’s bard lifestyle while placing their active lifestyle in the background (called “A Bard Knock Life” bc i think puns are cool) or an action drama framed around Zaya and the Scions living some sort of high fantasy/DND type adventure bc I love that stuff called “The Unbroken Thread”. (THAT‌ QUEST‌ NAME STILL GETS‌ ME)

Q2: What would their soundtrack/score sound like?          

A2: Something featuring a flute, probably. I got attached to Zaya playing the flute being a former flute player myself. (I only wish the oboe performance sound bank clicked with me a little more…)

Q3: Why did you start writing this character?          

A3: Originally, Zaya wasn’t meant to exist. I was literally planning on just creating A’dewah, Syhrwyda, and maybe Lumelle and Elwin in different roles. Then the Au’ra came out; I‌ used my free Fantasia from the sub rewards just to be an Au’ra (I was a miqo’te before; shh, i was still babu who liked cats) and suddenly Zaya started being formed as Menphina Jewel. Before I knew it, that Menphina Jewel grew a whole backstory and a new name and new friends (Azim Steppe arc of Stormblood MSQ? Final nail in the coffin.) that slowly took over the previous two Warriors as the focus of my attention. I wasn’t even supposed to keep playing FFXIV‌ past HW, dude. I had like a million other things to be doing at the time, but here I am, lying in my grave 3 years later still attached.

Q4: What first attracted you to this character?          

A4: They’re (mostly) mute. I really wanted to explore what it’s like to not be able to talk and only converse in body language, but then I discovered that might be a problem, so my interest in sign language collided with Zaya’s backstory. It also helps me work out a personality without them sounding/looking too much like what I think is Basic Story ProtagTM like I tend to do on accident (see A’dewah and Valdis’s dialogue sometimes.)

Q5: Describe the biggest thing you dislike about your muse.

A5: They can’t really speak. Funny how the thing I like most is also the thing I hate most. It’s very frustrating when I want them to convey something and then they can’t without using actual words and a voice because I haven’t got a clue on how to convey that through body language. How in the world do you convey ‘I feel like I’m doing arcanist calculations when you speak’ in nonverbal language??? I have no damn idea and every attempt looks like I meant something else.

Q6: What do you have in common with your muse?          

A6: The snark, man. I have friends constantly commenting on how I’ve made a burn without me realizing I’ve done so, and it’s hilarious. The love for music also carried over big time, especially after discovering how fun the bard NPCs were to write and how they’d fit into Zaya’s relationship web. (they’re totally the more comedic side, but I love Guydelot and Sanson anyways.)

Q7: How does your muse feel about you?          

A7: No clue, dude. Maybe thinks I’m boring? I don’t tend to want to drastically change things or look for new adventures; the biggest leap I’ve taken in two years is probably changing to a reed instrument from flute, and even then I don’t have to change key when‌ I read music, so it’s not that big a deal.

Q8: What characters does your muse have interesting interactions with?        

A8: Urianger and Lyse, maybe? I like the exploration of repairing relationships after something that might have ended another, weaker bond. It’s also kinda fun trying to see how Zaya would react; they’re a lot more rash than I am in real life, and that’s honestly saying something. Alisaie and Alphinaud, however, are the most fun just because I know what I’m doing when I write them, and it’s funny to see how Zaya reacts (or has a lack of reaction) to their dynamic. Guydelot and Sanson fall into another category of ‘dear god I simultaneously love and hate these two’, while Thancred, Y’shtola, Urianger, Syhrwyda, Duscha, and Ryne fall into some sort of strong found family vibes that just get me everytime I think about it

Q9: What gives you inspiration to write your muse?        

A9:…Doing job quests or side story quests or even MSQ I haven’t caught up on yet. Watch as I slowly rewrite as many MSQ‌ and job quest scenes as I can in any of my Warrior of Light’s viewpoints. (currently chiseling away at some backstory/before they were Warriors stories after reading too deep into the race/subrace text and lore keep an eye out LOL-)

Q10: How long did this take you to complete?          

A10: A day or two; don’t remember when I began. It was probably when I was procrastinating on homework, though. I didn’t post it until a week later whoops.

[draconia-bsd]

Can I please get 7 for Oda x Yosano? (Yoda? Looooool xD)

Lmaoooo, that's it, Yoda is their ship name now. xD

Thank you for requesting this, and I'm really sorry it took so long to finish. ;-; (also I hope you don't mind me setting this in BEAST au)

7- "I've missed you" kiss:

Auburn paysages appeared to have hastily changed through the narrow glass windows, and in such an overwhelming manner it made all the more tired passengers think about the train as a cage spinning in circles, holding them in the same time and place until they finally go insane and catch fire to match the colour of their surroundings. Despite it's appearance, however, the morning itself wasn't particularly poetic, at least not to one man. Oda, just like majority of people around him, stared into the nature, but it's beauty failed to impress him as his mind was entranced by a force of a different sort. His heart ached for warmth, arms longed for tenderness and soul craved the sweet, familiar smell of a loved one. Nothing in this world did he cherish more than her, making their separation during these numerous days unbearable, and this journey, ultimately, the most vicious torture.

Habitually, Oda would reach for his phone ready to dial her number, just to be faced by the cruel reality of his current situation. The mission he and his protégé, Akutagawa Ryunosuke, were given was of extreme importance for the whole city and it's surrounding aeria as it was their job to dismantle a group of criminals coming from various organisations, calling themselves "The Midheaven Clan". What made them so dangerous was not only their access to sensitive information from their original affiliates, but their grudge against both the underworld and the goverment, making them a threat which could easily cause mayhem all around. Considering a similar event has happened in the past, it was in everyone's interest to destroy this newly formed group, but of course, that was no easy job for they had known majority of people who could be involved in their demise. Naturally, this asked for an obscure party to join in the game, and who better than an organisation whose entire existance is considered an urban legend- the "Armed Detective Agency". President Fukuzawa was seldom to accept the mission at first, but after realising it is, indeed, the best way of dealing with the situation, he decided to help for the love of his city and people within it. Not long after this, Ranpo announced a plan which consisted of their two most capable members infiltrating the problematic group and gathering information that is to be sent to the goverment. During this time, their connection to the Agency is strictly to be done through Katai as he is the only one who can protect them from being spied on or tracked. The mission started immediately leaving time for goodbyes to a bare minimum. Luckily, with meticulous study of the backstories Ranpo provided, everything turned out as planned. Both he and Ryunosuke felt a weird mix of pitty and anger towards people they had spent the past two months with, but in the end, even with all the suicides upon their capture, justice was served and the city was safe for the time being.

Gazing through the train window with a blank face, Oda remembered how horrible it was day after day on that forsaken mission. Yes, Ryunosuke is a dear person to him, like a younger brother he never had, and he did enjoy the time they spent together away from those awful people, but nothing could put his mind away from his precious Akiko. In a way, she was his biggest strength, and also his biggest weakness. Every day he would think of her to get through with his act and every night he would curl up and silently cry for her. He was well aware she will be fine, after all she is a tough person, sometimes even more so that himself, but the thought of her coming to an empty apartment, having nobody to vent her frustrations to, nobody to hug and feel her warmth...it tore him appart. Despite being aware of his role in her life, he oftentimes found himself uncontrollably exploring scenarios where she replaced him with someone else, causing him to feel like a fragile child before a wicked illness, short with air and filled with burning rage he only dared express upon himself. Those nights were the hardest, all he wanted to do was hear her voice, be reassured, or at least grab a straw and ask Katai how she is...and a few times he almost did listen to his heart, but thoughts of how disappointed she would be if he failed the mission, not because of his natural weakness or sloppy planning, but because he was lacking trust in her, of all people! Akiko's heart would undoubtedly ceumble like a fallen autumn leaf beneath his feet, and that was not allowable, he was a better human being than that.

This bitter reminiscing was soon interrupted by a flash of sunlight burning his azure eyes. Instinctively, he closed them tight, but in a way, it was a perfect indicator that they are close to home, he needed something to shake him up. Oda then woke his protégé up with gentle strokes on his sholder and the black haired man reluctantly moved his body in a straight sitting position. It was rare to see Ryunosuke this tired, but somehow dark circles around his eyes looked more natural on him than his regular rested look; probably because that was the state they first found him in before recruiting him into the Agency- a vulnerable boy with despair deep within his midnight eyes. It was in times like this that Oda wished to hug and comfort him, but his ego was still a frail one, making him still a child in many ways.

"Are you alright Ryunosuke?" Oda asked.

"Quite fine, thank you." the younger man replied while rubbing his eyes.

It was obvious something wasn't right, but before Oda could say anything, it was time to exit the train. Stepping outside, Oda thought to himself that time seems to be an insignificant variable in this place, since it was as busy as in any other part of the day, the only difference being colour and intensity of the light. Holding onto his luggage and his fellow detective, Oda frantically searched for the fastest way to distance from this mess, guided solely by desire of his heart. Ryunosuke followed with great difficulty to keep up with such energetic movements, basically jumping a few times in order not to let go of the redheads hand. To bypassers it was a funny scene, but neither of them were in the mood to laugh. When they finally came to their usual parting spot, on Oda's initiative, the two men hugged and exchanged their well wishes for the other. It will definitely take them a while to start working and see each other again, so as an elder, Oda felt the need to know his partner won't be hard on himself and will take the rest he deserved. Albeit, the hug may have been too much for his younger co-worker, but he didn't worry, kindness and tenderness were needed in that boy's life, and he was full of it, especially now.

Yet again, swiftly moving through the streets, Sakunosuke constantly checked his watch, hoping he arrives before Akiko's lectures. She never missed them, but he had to see her, at least for a few minutes, before she leaves. His lovesickness was ever-growing and had reached it's peak, if they missed each other now, he would fall asleep and remain imprisoned in sweet dreams filled with her image until the end of time. Even with his mind in a sweet mist, he managed to notice that a flowershop on the corner was opening. Accepting the risk, he quickly got in and asked if they had her favourite flowers, carnations, in the colour of red. With a smile on his face, an old gardener put down his scissors and with a snap of his fingers made a bouquet worth of a queen. Oda never saw such a graceful ability before, but he didn't think much of it at the moment- with glee in his eyes, he left a generous tip to the shopkeeper and thanked him before hurrying off again. When he came to the apartment door his hands begun shaking and throat became dry, still he unconsciously curled his mouth into a dumb smile, making him look much like an excited dog. He rang the bell, and to his surprise, the door opened immediately revealing to him a mesmerising sight. Her. Akiko was standing there only for a second before wrapping herself around his neck and locking him in a tigh hug, but he had already absorbed her appearance. Purple eyes shined with a light so bright and soft it looked like fairy dust and her skin was so mild and soothing that neither ice or fire could overpower it. Breathing out of sync, feeling each others heartbeats, their lips slowly merged into a kiss, gentle but passionate, so long they were both left out of breath. But that wasn't enough.

"Welcome." She whispered, gazing into his deep blue eyes as she dragged him inside and closed the door.

He smiled and placed a series of small kisses on her lips, cheeks and neck before officially giving her the flowers.

Akiko smelled them and smiled innocently "How wonderful of you." she exclaimed and kissed him passionately as a thankful gesture.

From this moment on words were unnecessary, all they needed was each other, and with no obstacles anymore, there was absolutely nothing that could distract them- this was a torture for far too long...

[frostyembers]

Mask

Previous: “Silver Spoon” | Next: “Losing Hope”

A look into Borealis’ daily life 

Borealis had a few items on his to-do list that day.

He needed to get more food ingredients to restock the dwindling supplies on the Orbiter’s mini-kitchen from Cetus. While he was there, he also had to gather the Auron and Coprun that Callisto had requested from the Plains. Then, he needed to deliver a pendant to a Tenno Operator at the Strata Relay who had commissioned Callisto about a week ago. Perhaps he could drop by at Steel Meridian too to see if they needed any help with supplies.

He stopped for a moment. Borealis was a warframe, a deadly and ancient warrior from the era of the Orokin that was the stuff of myth and legend; a sign of hope and liberation for the innocent living in colonies around the System. Yet here he was, minding his own business, with his most important task at hand being a shopping list to be completed.

Borealis didn’t mind it. Instead, he actually quite enjoyed it. Callisto and he had withdrawn themselves to a peaceful lifestyle away from the mindless killing most of the other Tenno in the System had chosen. The both of them never really trusted the Lotus anyway, and they were already used to muting most inbox messages and mission alerts from her.

He immediately made his way to the Ostron market once he’d arrived in Cetus. As the Frost Prime weaved through the bustling crowd of Tenno, he attracted a few disapproving glances and stares from some of the Tenno. The usual vendor where he bought spices from greeted him with a bright smile on her face as they wordlessly exchanged the usual ingredients he’d always get every week. After a fairly successful fishing and mining trip in the Plains, he left for the Strata Relay.

The Tenno who commissioned Callisto was pleased with the pendant and the Steel Meridian’s operations were doing just fine. Up until that moment, it was a fairly normal and uneventful day for Borealis. That was, until he felt a tap on his shoulder just as he was about to leave the Relay.

He turned around to see a red-coloured Volt and a male Operator behind him. The latter had dark hair that was slicked back and an eye guard over his left eye with void scarring across the same side of his face. Borealis looked at him, slightly irritated from the fumes he puffed into the Frost’s face from the pipe he was smoking. His Volt was behind the Operator and waving at a passing Oberon, visibly distracted as he attempted to make conversation.

“Greetings, warframe. I am Shun.” Shun extended his arm for a handshake.

Borealis already did not like this guy one bit. Shun exuded an aura of pure aristocratic arrogance that was rather reminiscent of the Orokin. He reluctantly shook Shun’s hand. Shun squinted for a split second when he felt the Frost’s icy cold hand that held his with an unusually tight iron grip.

“Is your Operator the artisan Callisto?”

Borealis nodded curtly.

“Good. Would he available for a meeting in person?”

Borealis knew Callisto did not like face to face meetings. The Operator was already a disaster at small talk, much less a formal conversation with such an arrogant asshole like Shun.

He shook his head.

Shun narrowed his eye. “Hmm?”  He took a long inhale from his pipe before letting out a huff of smoke that was obviously directed at Borealis’ face. He smiled in amusement as he noticed the Frost crossing his arms, clearly very irritated at that point.

Shun went on. “I think Lua would be a suitable place. Maybe the day after tomorrow?”

Borealis had had it. Shun’s face that was plastered with one of the smuggest expressions he had ever seen wasn’t really helping either. Who did this spoiled Orokin wannabe think he was? He turned on his heels and began walking away. Shun’s red Volt noticed this and stopped flirting his conversation with the Oberon and looked expectantly at Shun, as if asking him to do something.

Shun was already one step ahead.

“I’ll see you both there at dawn.” He smirked.

“Operator, Borealis has returned from Strata Relay.”

The Orbiter remained silent except for the sound of the docking landing craft. Borealis stepped into the Orbiter, still albeit in a rotten mood as he noticed that it was already late, and Callisto had probably not yet eaten as usual. He ignored Callisto’s note that had always been taped onto the door to the workshop and walked straight in without notice yet again as he had done earlier that day.

Inside, Callisto was sitting on the floor with his back slumped against the wall and his head between his knees. His worktable that would usually be cluttered at the end of the day was still empty. Borealis inched closer and tried to get his attention through his Transference link.

Callisto jolted awake, eyes rapidly darting to find the Frost already staring at him suspiciously. 

What are you doing?

“I was just working after I finished rest.” 

Silence. 

“Uh,” Callisto stuttered. “I meant resting after I finished work.”

Borealis redirected to his attention back to the empty table before proceeding to continue interrogating his Operator.

It doesn’t seem like you’ve worked.

Callisto stood up shakily and rubbed his hand on the back of his head as he let out a soft yawn. 

“I’m fine.” He sighed before he started heading for the door. “I’ll go get something to eat now before you shove me there yourself or someth-”

Borealis had planted his hand on Callisto’s shoulder before he had the chance to walk out.

Stop lying to me. We both know you’re not fine. Something’s wrong with you.

He felt the Operator’s muscles immediately tense up at the word ‘lying’.

Callisto wrenched his shoulder away roughly from Borealis' grip and continued walking towards the door.

"I am fine. Please, leave me alone." Callisto’s voice had gained a certain edge to it. One that Borealis hadn’t heard in years.

You know you can't hide it from me forever. You can’t keep up your 'I'm so kind and happy and carefree' persona forever.

Callisto stopped in his tracks just as he reached the door. His hands clenched into fists.

They will find out too, you know? They won’t just stand there and watch you tear yourself apart. They will do to you what I’m doing to you right now.

Callisto said nothing before he walked out and the doors shut behind him.

Operator Shun belongs to @alexdrawsthingies , Callisto, Borealis, and Aster are mine :y

[officialleehadan]

Unknown Beasts

Helle flicked her ears nervously, hands shaking a little on her tablet. Report day was always terrible. “in conclusion,” she stuttered. “Homo Sapiens, or Humans, are remarkable pinnacle predators that show an impressive ability to survive, despite all suggestion otherwise. Thank you!”

Presentation finished, she scampered back to her seat on soft paws, relieved to be finished with the big project. 

Her pad chimed softly and she opened the new message with trepidation. It was from Teacher Jasy. 

[D+ see me after class.]

+

Helle squirmed nervously in her sweet and managed a smile for Tsheek when her friend stopped by her desk. “Time forrr midday-meal,” the scaled lizard said. “Arrrre you coming?”

“Staying after, Teacher says,” Helle answered with a sigh. “Meet you there, or in Astromaths.”

Tsheek looked dubious, but raised left, throwing one last glance up at the teacher before they did. When everyone was left, Teacher Jesy beckoned Helle up.

“Why did you chose humans for your project? He asked quietly. Halle liked Teacher Jesy, even if he looked a little strange, with no rotating ears to give away his mood. “There are nearly four thousand known species.”

Helle reached for an answer, ears layer back and quivering. “I think humans are interesting,” she said shyly. “They breed really fast- and their religious system has been such an influence on their culture. I especially liked the documentation about Ram-Bo, the ancient god of jungle warfare.”

That made Teacher Jesy chuckle and bare his teeth in amusement. That had taken a while to understand- a threat display meaning amusement- but she was starting to get used to it. “Yes, Ram-Bo does have an interesting history,” he agreed. “Helle, the reason I had to give you a D+ on this project is because almost all of your sources seem to be media-based. I did specify that you needed at least two scholarly sources.”

“But there’s not very many,” Helle protested unhappily. She had looked! But most of what she found was just too outlandish to be true. “I tried! They- they didn't seem like trustworthy sources!”

That made Teacher Jesy sit back and regard her carefully. His leathery brown skin was patterned with dyes all down his front-limbs. “You spent a great deal of time on the Thraxxis war,” he commented, a tap bringing up her report on his pad and hers. “Humans were very involved, so I do understand your featuring it, but this was supposed to focus on culture, not history.”

“But humans have spent most of their culture-span in war!” Helle protested, starting to get upset. “Everybody knows that a human warship means your ship is doomed!”

Teacher Jesy sighed. “That’s a direct quote from Preet-Chk and the Soft Skins,” he chided gently. “It’s a good vid, but it is not accurate in the slightest. You also seemed to focus primarily on the far northern variant. You know that that they are only one of the many human-variants?”

She had, but there was even less about human variants than they're were about their culture. That didn't seem like a good thing to say. Most of the Human media seemed to focus on their Northern Variant too, with little exception. 

“Yes,” she admitted reluctantly. He nodded. “There wasn't much about them.”

Teacher Jesy say back and tapped on his tablet for a minute. Hers chimed with a new message. A list of titles, all about humans.

“I’m allowing everyone a seven-cycle to rewrite their reports. Since you’re having a hard time finding accurate sources, I’ll make allowances. These are a list of good, solid sources that cover a range of human variants. I also suggest you interview at least one human to get a perspective. There are several on the station who would be happy to talk with you.”

Helle laid her ears back. Humans on the station? No! This was home! They would eat everybody!

“But they’re violent!” she exclaimed, her fur standing up. “They worship war- they-“

Teacher Jesy was staring at her, before he started to huff his amusement. “Helle, I promise none of the humans on this station are violent,” he assured her between huffs. “Only one of them served on a human war ship and he’s retired from that. The rest are scientists and their families.”

“I’ve never seen a human up close,” Helle protested. Humans were interesting, but she didn't want to MEET one! “Only once from a distance, at the trading post and- what?”

Teacher Jesy was giving her a very strange expression that she struggled to translate. She slumped back in her chair unhappily.

“Helle, you know I’m Equator-Variant Human, don't you?”

+++

HGE - Human/Alien Relations

Get That OUT of Your Mouth

Medical Attention

Claws

Ingenuity

War and Peace

Echo-Folk

HGE - Invasions

Invasion Denied

Blood Will Tell (What Waits in the Dark)

No Moon

HGE - The Others

Through Shattered Glass

Sea and Sky

HGE - Conflagration

Fire District

HGE - Smoke before Fire

The Legend, The Rumor

Deep Water and Scales

Black Scales and Open Spaces

Screams in the Dark

Warning Lights

Into the Wild

Nobility and Flames

+++

Support me on Patreon!

[girls-love-girls1200]

37. Seulgi x Reader •Bad Girl•

Tapping your fingers in a fast continuous motion on the large wooden library table, you silently prayed for inspiration to hit you, the daunting white page in front of you burning through your skull.

Essays, you hated them, don’t get me wrong you loved writing, and had a talent for it too, just not when you were given a theme and track to follow.

“Could you stop with the damn tapping?

The harsh voice scared the hell out of you, and once you realized whom it belonged to, your heart rate did not slow down, on the contrary, it sped up.

Kang Seulgi, also known as one of the most popular people at your school for some reason obscure to you.

You heard her name being whispered in the hallways every day, the same hallways that seemed to be cleared every time she passed and you found yourself squashed against a locker as the other kids parted for her like the Red sea.

Legend had it she had been kicked out of her last school for vandalism and sending one of her classmates to the hospital.

All you had seen her do was bite back at some teachers and stare at everybody that got in her way with a burning hate.

In your opinion she was like any other person in this high school except for your best friend, pretty annoying.

“If you ask nicely I will.”

Her dark eyes filled with surprise, you took notice of her grunge, goth look, heavy makeup on her face, even more noticeable as her eyes seemed to burn with indignation,

“How about you stop being a huge pain before I break your fingers and shove them up your...”

A loud shush interrupted her vulgar statement, the old librarian’s face bright red, hands on her waist.

“Get out of my library right now, the both of you!”

You huffed in annoyance before grabbing your stuff and sticking it in your bag hurriedly, you fixed your round framed glasses before turning towards the bother next to you,

“Thanks for this you vulgar little emo.”

Seulgi seemed ready to knock your front teeth out as you made your way out of the library, her eyes making their way to your jean clad cute little butt.

A strange feeling rising in the pit of her stomach as she watched you walk away, two questions swirling around her head,

who is this girl and how dare she?

Your next encounter was on a rainy Thursday morning, Seulgi had been wondering aimlessly down the hallways, not feeling the current algebra class. She turned a corner and almost ran straight into you,

“What, are you skipping or something?”

Seulgi’s arrogant voice already bothering you, “I’m actually hanging some school clubs announcements, you should think about joining them, do something with your life.”

Seulgi really had a good time teasing you, she loved how your cheeks turned a light shade of red whenever she spoke,

“And who gives you permission to do it during class hours?”

Your eyes rolled dramatically at her insistence,

“My mom is the vice principal, I do some favors for her, and she just lets me and my photography group alone.”

Seulgi scoffed at your answer, “Sounds a lot like nepotism to me.”

You turned around, skirt slightly rising at the sudden movement, Seulgi’s eyes lowering in an instant,

“Oh wow, such big words!”

Her eyes darkened as she took a step closer, trapping you between herself and the wall, your heart making a strange little tap dance in your chest.

“Don’t sound so surprised, a girl can be pretty and smart at the same time.”

There was barely any space between your faces when the bell rang suddenly, making you jump on the spot. It took a few seconds to register her words and for the offense to hit you, “I never said...”

Your words got muffled by the noisy stream of students flooding the hallways, you stood still, mouth agape and thoughts all over the place as Seulgi disappeared into the sea of teenagers.

On Friday the weather seemed to have worsened, leaving your photography group, you sprinted across the school parking lot, backpack hanging from your shoulder and protecting your new Leica M5 under the heavy parka you were wearing.

You were in a good mood, photography had been really fun today, and the rain always somehow made your mood brighten.

Unsurprisingly you struggled to open the door of your grandpa’s old car, a gift for your last birthday.

Once inside you sat for a few minutes, waiting for the old beast to warm up, listening to the rain outside falling incessantly.

As your eyes wondered at the the outside world they fell on a trembling figure just outside the main entrance.

From the dark clothing and smoke coming from her you could tell who it was in an instant.

As you slowly stopped the car right in front of her you rolled down the window, offering a warm smile, “Need a ride home?”

She seemed taken aback by your sudden friendliness, stubbornly shaking her head in a refusing manner, you couldn’t help but feel your heart warm as you took in her appearance with more attention than usual.

There she stood, shaking from the cold, cigarette in one hand and smuged mascara from the rain, pretty eyes staring right through you.

Not taking no for an answer you stretched over and opened the door for her,

“Stop being so stubborn and get in.”

Seulgi reluctantly flicked the cancer stick away, getting in your car she gave you a thankful smile, immediately nearing her hands to the heating vent.

“You can pick a cd, they’re all in the glove compartment, oh and it’s kind of...”

A loud laugh escaped her lips as a waterfall of cds and random stuff fell from the compartment as soon as it opened,

“Messy.”

She only laughed louder as your cheeks turned a deep shade of red, eyes focused on the road ahead.

“I live in Rosewood by the way.”

You tried not to give away your surprise at her words.

Rosewood was a gated community just outside of town, it was known for being the home of some of the richest families in the area, the elite.

You couldn’t hide your surprise though, when Seulgi picked one of your favorite R&B albums and the soft notes filled the car,

“What, did you think I only listened to heavy metal or something?”

Eyebrows lifting playfully, she hit your arm lightly, “I thought the vice principal would have taught her daughter not to judge a book by its cover.”

You loved how easy going Seulgi was acting at the moment, there was someone special behind the mean girl facade she put on every day at school,

“It was the cop actually that taught me that, my dad.”

Your chest tightened just a little as you thought about him, the girl next to seemed to sense you were uncomfortable with the subject so she immediately switched to how she was positive she had failed her algebra test earlier.

“You really should try a bit harder Seulgi, your parents must have paid a hell of a lot to get you accepted in december and I heard my mom talking about how the principle is really not happy about your attitude.”

She shrugged her shoulders, “I don’t really care.”

You scoffed at her words, “I know for a fact you do though, I’m not falling for this bad girl facade you have going on.”

Seulgi finally realized how different you were from any other kid at your school, somehow more mature, and absolutely beautiful.

“So, does the cop know you smoke weed?”

So she saw it.

The cheeky smile on her face indicating she had no problem with it calmed you down a little,

“Actually my dad passed away last year while on duty, but if you ever wanna smoke give me a ring and I’ll be there.”

The pretty girl sitting next to you couldn’t understand how you still had a smile on your face, she couldn’t even fathom losing her own father, even though they often fought, she absolutely loved him.

As you passed through the security gate you seemed to enter a world of privilege.

Lowering the windows and looking around, you felt extremely out of place, “Wow, this neighborhood even smells of rich people.”

Seulgi hit you in retaliation as she kept indicating where to turn until you reached this huge property, a perfectly mowed lawn with a path on the middle that led to a large white painted mansion, extra security guards stood at the beginning of the path eyeing your old vehicle suspiciously,

“Well, I’m not a fan of any type of guns, so I’ll just leave you here okay?”

Seulgi thanked you before stepping out of the car, and slamming the door shut.

You were watching her leave just to make sure she arrived safely when she turned around in a rush and ran back towards you, thinking she had forgot something you lowered the window, Seulgi took a few deep breaths before actually being able to talk to you,

“How about we meet up to study algebra on Saturday and then I take you out for dinner?”

Anxiety seemed to be painted on her face as she waited for an answer, it was actually nice seeing her so flustered,

“Is it a date?”

Your hopeful tone seemed to give her back her usual cockiness as she smirked at you,

“Absolutely Y/N.”

Eyes shining, she looked at you with the purest look on her face,

“I guess I’ll see you on Saturday then.”

[blueheartedmayor]

Monologue - Until We Meet Again

Title is the name of the song that inspired this. I highly recommend listening to it first to get a rough idea of the mood. A spiritual successor to ‘Apology’ The idea of it being shippier than my last self-insert monologue was from a Di.scord group, so shout out to them.

Warning that it’s a little angsty.

Ship - Reader x Damien tw: ghosts

--

God, you just missed him so much some days.

It made sense. After all, Damien was one of your closest friends. You two had gone through so much together. It wasn’t fair how one man’s obsession for revenge caught you both in the cross-fire. Damien became part of a monster, and you... Well, you used to be trapped in a mirror, but you managed to escape as the magic holding you there wore thin. Now you’re alone in a modern world.

Damien would know what to do.

You managed to get a job as an assistant in a small law-firm. It wasn’t anything wonderful, but it helped sharpen your rusty skills in the area you once adored. It also gave you an excellent opportunity to learn more about the 21st century, and start over. The events of the poker night became urban legend, a case never fully explained away. No one was ever arrested, and if someone wasn’t found, they were assumed dead. It had included you, but you were able to keep your name without too much difficulty.

Life was certainly interesting these days, but lonely too. Some nights, you would sit on the couch after dinner, wondering what you could do differently. Each time, you came to the same conclusion - nothing. Revealing who you were and searching for those who were still alive would only land you in so much trouble. Thankfully, they were so busy running a channel of some sort that it was easy enough to keep partial tabs on them.

Didn’t exactly help ease things.

But then... One day you woke, went about your daily routine convinced something was strange. It was only as you were stamping a letter with the date stamp you realised - it was Damien’s birthday. You took an early break to lament in the bathroom.

Last time you had been able to celebrate Damien’s birthday was before the poker night. It almost didn’t happen, since Damien was up to his eyeballs in work. However, you were determined, and kicked the office door down, arms laden with a big gift and cupcakes. The poor mayor let out a shout of surprise as he fell out of his chair and crashed onto the ground. You were laughing so hard, it was a miracle you didn’t drop anything.

“Hey...” A friendly face peeked over the next cubicle. One of your co-workers was standing on the toilet to look down at you. “Are you okay?”

“Sorry...” You sniffed, wiping your nose with some tissue. “Today’s just... a hard one for me. It was my best friend’s birthday.” The friend nodded in understanding. You had told them about your past, but implied things were more recent. Mainly, how you had been in a special recovery unit for over a year, and your best friend died tragically. “There was so much I never told him...”

-

The rest of the day went slowly, but the office took good care of you. Since you were the newest member of the team, you had been adopted as the unofficial youngest sibling. Some had taken some of your workload off you, since there was no way you were able to focus on it; others made it their mission to distract you will silly jokes and memes. Your friend from earlier brought you out for lunch, where you accidentally revealed that you had loved your best friend and never got to tell him.

Needless to say, you were emotionally drained by the time you finished for the day. You decided to walk home, passing a bakery near the office. Plans changed immediately when you left the premises five minutes later with a large cupcake with blueberry frosting. You weren’t sure if Damien even liked blueberries, but the colour was impossible to pass up.

Next thing you knew, you were standing at the gates of the abandoned manor. Since no gravestones had been erected for those who had never been found, the only place you could go to was here. It was the last building you wanted to ever enter for the rest of your life, but right now you didn’t care. In and out in ten minutes max. It wouldn’t be hard.

The manor had long fallen to ruin. No one had wanted to buy it after the stories began emerging. Murders, betrayal, deceit, evil. The building had become popular to adventurers after two reporters published a video of them summoning a ‘demon’, and so it was easy to enter unnoticed. Thankfully, you were the only one there as you made your way through the entrance hall.

Anything that wasn’t too heavy or bolted to the wall had been stolen, making the place feel even emptier than it had been the night you arrived. But that wasn’t why you were here. You had remembered Damien telling you about the manor before your first visit, describing his favourite room in detail - the parlour. The furniture was torn and ragged, but the baby grand still stood. It was rotting, but it was still in one piece. You crept over, mindful of anything that may have been dropped on the floor over the years. Once you were close enough, you placed the cupcake on the piano.

“Damien... I’m so sorry I can’t be there with you today. But no matter where you are, or what’s going on... Happy birthday.”

“You didn’t have to get me a cake, Y/N...”

With an impressive jump in fright, you spun to face the source of the voice, only to freeze. There was a ghost in front of you! The stories were true! You were about to high-tail it out of there when the ghost raised its hands.

“Hold on, old friend... It’s me. Damien. Can’t you see me?”

As soon as that was said, the ghost began to shift slightly, like someone was digitally reducing the blur and sharpening the focus. After a few seconds, Damien stood in front of you. He wasn’t fully transparent, and was surrounded in a blue glow that reminded you of what the monster had. A sad smile formed as he stepped closer to you. Instinct screamed at you to run and hug him, but you knew you were run straight through him. If Damien was still terrified of ghosts like he used to be, he would not appreciate that gesture at all.

“You... But... How... He...” Words were utterly failing you as you instead tried conversation. Damien raised an eyebrow at this.

“I assume you are trying to say ‘Damien, you’re dead, and you are part of Dark. How are you here’?” He paused. When you nodded blankly, he continued, “I’m not entirely sure. Dark was in the middle of a meeting when this happened, but I’m hopeful he won’t have time to figure out why it happened... You aren’t dabbling in the occult, are you?”

“Oh, no! Maybe the house has been used for it so many times?” You are, of course, referring to the infamous ‘DEMONS, JIM!’ video. He seemed to catch your drift and chuckled, moving toward the baby grand so he can examine the cupcake. “I... Uh.. I thought it would help.”

“Help?” He glanced at you with a puzzled look. You swallow a lump in your throat and nod.

“All I could think of today was the last time we celebrated your birthday and...” Oh great, you could feel tears threatening again. “I miss you, Damien.”

“I miss you too... But it’s okay. I’m here, if only for a little while.” You noticed one hand clenching - the lack of cane very clear. While he didn’t need to, he took a breath to face your properly. “Since we only have a short time, may I be blunt?” 

“With what?”

“With something I was meant to do before. Listen, Y/N... If I had known I wouldn’t make it out of this manor alive, I... I would have asked you out to dinner. Or to see a play, o-or something... I loved you, but I was too hesitant to do anything about it.” He doesn’t notice your stunned expression as he continued, “I had feelings for you for years, but... You were one of my closest friends. I was terrified of losing you because of that. But then I became Mayor, and I foolishly dedicated myself to my work and-”

“I love you too.”

“-other responibi- what?” His eyes widened. “But I thought you... Your old tutor-”

“What? Don’t be ridiculous! There was nothing happening there!” You laughed, grinning wider as you noticed his cheeks turning blue in a blush. “Did that stop you?”

“I didn’t want to intrude on something, but...” The ghost coughed into his hand, trying to save himself somewhat. “We have now. If you’ll allow it.” Before you can question this, he leans forward, and you can feel cold air on your chin. Damien took a slow breath in concentration, and you could feel the air solidifying. He was cupping your chin with a hand. You could see him give a soft, if slightly bashful, smile as he closed the gap between you and gently placed his lips on yours. When he pulled back, it was clear from the look in his eyes that it was something he had wanted to do for some time.

“... That was worth the wait,” you teased, causing you both to laugh. God, you missed this so much. “You’re actually good at this, Dames. So does this mean I’m dating a ghost now?” You regretted the words as soon as they came out of your mouth, especially as he stepped back with true sorrow in his eyes. “Damien, I’m sorry, I-”

“No, no... It’s alright. I’ve come to terms with that. But no, we aren’t dating. We can’t. Dark doesn’t know you’re free, and I refuse to put you in danger again. I love you, but I am willing to let you go. Don’t refuse the second chance that has been handed to you. You will always be my dearest friend.”

“And you, mine.” Kissed and effectively dumped within two minutes. That has to be a record.

-

You only had an hour to talk together. He wore himself out by trying to maintain a mostly physical form. The two of you had taken to sitting against the wall, you curled up against his side, his fingers gently combing your hair. It was very reluctantly you both untangled yourselves and stood up. He looked exhausted, like how he used to be after staying in his office until 2am and crashing on the couch there.

“Don’t worry about me. Myself and Celine... We’re okay. I know it’s scary, but we’ll get by. But promise me: go out there, live your life. Don’t let your memories of me hold you back.” He made you swear on the cupcake. It would have been funny had the timing not been so sad. Damien was starting to fade now, and it was taking all of his might to stay a moment longer. “Take care, Y/N.” He pulled you into a tight hug.

You held on firmly, but could feel your grip loosen as he disappeared.

“Until we meet again.”

[userlando]

Morning Dew (Ethan)

Summary: You have an adventurous day in with your boyfriend that consists of a lot of sleeping, bed-lounging and eating. Word Count: 2,095 Warnings: Fluffiness and laziness. Also, lots of cute banter. A/N: This idea just flitted across my mind and me being me, I just couldn’t resist writing it. This is heavily inspired by the tweets from Chrissy Teigen and John Legend where they spend the whole day in bed. I love them. - THIS IS NOT EDITED.

Everybody knew that Ethan Dolan was a morning person. And not one of those who would get up at the ass crack of dawn and instantly run around like child on adderall. But he didn’t like wasting his days with just stretching under the covers, he actually wanted to make his days count.

Which is why, you barely reacted when you felt him press a gentle kiss to your shoulder. You didn’t know how early it was, but it was early enough for you to still feel sluggish and tired, like you hadn’t had your full eight hours of sleep.

“Babe,” You heard him murmur into the silent room, the warmth of his breath hitting your exposed skin, making it pebble. “Come on, get up.”

You made an indignant sound from the back of your throat, burying your cheek even deeper into the pillow as you drew your eyebrows together in a displeased scrunch. Ethan touched your shoulder, letting his fingers skim across your skin before they stopped their journey.

“Baby.” He was whining now, and you hated to admit it but his voice sounded extra sexy with how raspy it was from sleep and lack of use.

As you went to turn around so you were laying on your stomach, facing away from him, he shot his hand out and grabbed your arm; Rolling you over so you were laying on your back. You could feel his eyes on you, but you refused to open your own, just to spite him. And it seemed to have worked when you heard him huff, making you bite back a smile that was threatening to escape.

“You think you’re being funny, huh?” You could practically hear his eyes roll and you peeked one eye open. The sight of him in front of you made your breath catch in your throat.

The sun had crept up over the horizon, casting a beautiful ray into the room through the cracks of the thin curtains, the orange and yellow glow painting the usually white walls of the room. Your boyfriend was on his knees by your side on the bed, the mattress sinking under his knee-caps as he loomed over you. But it was the sight of his messy hair that was partially sticking up on the back of his head and partially laying flat on his forehead, the puffiness of his eyes from sleep and his naked torso that made you open the both of your eyes to take in the sight of him fully.

Ethan seemed to take notice of your change in mood, lips stretching into a boyish grin as he shuffled on the bed, swinging one of his legs across your body so he was straddling your thighs. You couldn’t help it as you reached out your arms to touch the softness of his stomach, letting the pads of your fingers trace the lines and ridges.

You realized what you were doing and let your hands drop to the covers, peering up at Ethan to find him staring at you in silence, a look in his eyes that you knew too well. One full of fondness and love, one that made your heart thump heavily in your chest. The both of you stared at each other, and it didn’t take you long for your eyes to droop as sleep started to take over again. Ethan let out a huff of laughter and you squealed as he dropped his entire weight onto your body, trapping you between his solid one and the bed.

“You’re being a lazy ass and I’m hungry.” He complained when you gave him a weak glare, shrugging his shoulders like it was no big deal. You groaned.

“Your weight is hurting my boobs.” You complained, squirming underneath him so he could lie on top of you without squishing your beloved balls of fat.

“Are you calling me fat?” He gasped in mock offense, mouth dropping open into an o as he raised his perfectly shaped eyebrows so they disappeared beneath his flat hair on his forehead.

“I would do no such thing!” You let out a gasp of your own, finally settling into a position where he wouldn’t crush your chest completely.

Ethan let out a hum, blinking his eyes lazily as he looked down at you, smile playing on his lips. He bent down and pressed a swift kiss to the top of your chest, where they were exposed from the deep u-neck of your tank-top and your lack of a bra.

“Sorry, ladies.” He apologized sincerely, staring directly at them and you let out a loud laugh, hand coming up to cover your mouth as you threw your head back.

Your boyfriend was ridiculous.

“Don’t cover your smile, you know I hate when you do it.” He tsked you, his hand reaching out to grab yours, pulling it down and placing it on his hair. “You can scratch my scalp instead.”

You grinned, “So needy.”

But you still dug your fingers into his hair, scratching his scalp just the way he liked it. You could feel the dampness at the bottom which confirmed your suspicions that he’d woken up way earlier than you thought, taking a shower before coming to pester you. He let out a content sigh, turning his head to rest it on your chest as he relaxed into your embrace.

It didn’t take him long to fall asleep, his small snores escaping his lips as he snoozed on your body. And it pulled you into a content sleep, eyes shutting as your hand went limp in his hair.

* * * *

The next time you woke up, the sun was looming high up in the sky and you were burning up. Ethan had managed to wrap himself around you like vine, arms holding your body with his cheek pressed to your stomach. You grinned, thinking that he looked absolutely adorable as you quietly reached for your phone on your nightstand. You pressed the home button, trying not to wince at the time - 2.43 p.m. - as you brought up the camera, angling it downwards so you could get a clear shot at Ethan snoozing on your body.

“If you’re going to take a picture of me, try to at least get my good side.” His voice startled you and you gasped loudly, phone slipping out of your grasp and landing on your chin. Ethan peeked up as you yelled out, a loud, boisterous laugh bubbling up as he caught sight of you holding your face with your phone on your throat.

“It hurts!” You whined, pouting as Ethan continued to laugh. He eventually settled down, crawling up to close the distance between you two. But you turned your head just in time, making him recoil in confusion. “Morning breath.”

Ethan rolled his eyes, nuzzling your cheek with his nose before pushing himself off of the bed. You pulled the covers over you fully, just so your eyes and top of your head peeked out from beneath; Marveling at how Godlike he looked as he stretched his long arms into the air, the sun hitting him just right, making him glow.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” He popped his butt out, a very delicious looking one at that, and turned to walk into the hallway.

Your mouth dropped open as you giggled, scrambling up to get to the hallway. He was already standing in the bathroom, scrubbing away at his teeth with his blue toothbrush, humming a familiar tune. You walked past him, knowing fully well that his hands were about to start wandering as soon as you stood beside him. You were clad in pajamas and your hair looked a mess, but Ethan had admitted several times that you managed to turn him on everytime you looked like you’d just rolled out of bed. He was a strange one.

As you stood there, brushing your teeth, you couldn’t help but steal a few glances at each other through the mirror. Grins took over your faces when you caught the other one staring, and soon enough, Ethan started poking your side and stroking your arms; Knowing fully well that you were ticklish.

After an incident that involved toothpaste on the mirror and Ethan laughing so hard that foam dribbled down his chin, you rinsed off and walked out. Your boyfriend was following closely, letting out a disapproving sound as you were turning towards the way to the kitchen.

“Oh, hell no.” He said and before you had time to react, he was picking you up. You squealed in surprise, yelling out as he charged back towards the bedroom.

A loud laugh left your lips as he let you down on the unmade bed, letting your body bounce and throwing himself down right beside you. You couldn’t stop laughing as he crawled towards you, looming over you before pressing chaste kisses to your smiling lips.

“You taste like mint.” You said between kisses, hand coming up to cup his unshaven cheek as he continued to pepper kisses to your lips.

“What a coincidence,” He pulled back, mock shock written all over his face. “Yours do too!”

You narrowed your eyes at him as if to say that he wasn’t being funny, and he shot you a grin. He hummed as he leaned in, kissing you with a tenderness that had your toes curling in delight.

After a few moments, you pulled back and looked over his face. He looked drunk on love. Eyes drooping, lips swollen and pink, cheeks flushed... You could only imagine what you looked like.

“You know what I want?” You asked, dropping the tone of your voice as you bit your lip. Ethan perked up, leaning in that you almost went cross-eyed.

“What?” He whispered and he actually looked excited that it almost made you feel bad for what you were about to say next. Almost.

“Your soggy french toast.” You whispered seductively, giggling as he dropped his head in defeat. It shot up just as fast when he realized that you’d just taken a shot at his cooking.

“My french toast are not soggy!” He exclaimed, drawing his eyebrows together as he pouted.

You pressed a kiss to his mouth before pushing him away with the help of your other hand on his shoulder. He stood up reluctantly, swaying from having been laying down for too long.

“They kind of are, darling.” You said, waving your hand dismissively as you didn’t care much for his opinion.

You were kidding and you both knew it. No one loved Ethan’s cooking as much as you did, which is why you always let him do the cooking. Not because you were lazy, or anything.

“Fine,” He sniffed as if he was hurt by my words, turning around before walking away. He swiveled around by the doorway and you knew he was gonna shut you down. “But just so you know, your eggs are rubbery.”

Your mouth fell open as he hurried out of the bedroom. With a happy sigh, you laid back in bed; Letting the comfort and warmth of the sheets pull you into yet another nap.

It wasn’t long before you were awoken by Ethan again, this time with french toasts on a plate and a tall glass of grapejuice. He placed the glass on the nightstand and crawled underneath the covers all the while holding onto the plate, settling in comfortably before placing the plate on his lap.

You sniffed the air, almost drooling at the smell toast which made you realize that you hadn’t had anything to eat since last night. Suddenly you felt grateful that Ethan had made so many, sighing in content as you snuggled up to him while still lying on your side next to him. He peered down at you with an affectionate smile on his face.

“Giddy up, princess. They’re gonna turn cold.” He teasingly whispered and you grinned, pushing yourself up so your back was against the headboard.

Without a word, Ethan handed you the biggest toast on the plate before proceeding to turn the television on. He murmured incoherently when he realized there was nothing good on TV, eventually settling on a movie on Netflix. All the while, you were munching on your food, watching him in silence.

“You okay?” He asked, turning to look at you with a furrow of his eyebrows.

Okay? What an understatement.

“I’m more than okay.” You shot him a grin, which he reciprocated with one of his own.

[acourtofrosesandbooks-blog]

Ribbons of Flame - Chapter Four

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Word count: 2383

Ella had found some semblance of peace in the book she now clutched tightly in her hand. She had always been a curious fae when she was younger, and that curiosity seem to still burn. She remembered days when her mother would teach her in anything she could, with any book she managed to find. Mr. Soarven would do the same if time was on their side after dance lessons. She was no scholar, but she could read well enough, and knew basic histories, among other knowledge. Whenever she could get her hands on a book of any kind she would devour it as best she could. She had been surprised when she found the old dusty shelf in the corner of her large room, somehow forgotten for however long. Kedron did not seem to mind the books now stacked on her bedside table or caught in her hand the nights he visited. If she did as he asked, and he stayed in a good mood.

“We are having guest today, Eleanor.” Ella looked up from the words she had been so focused on, to Kedron who entered her room. She nodded slowly, bringing the now closed book tighter to her chest, almost afraid he would take it away from her. She would not be surprised if he did.

“Your brothers will be here within the hour. They want to check up on their dear sister before her wedding day,” Kedron chuckled with a soft smirk on his face. Dread filled her before a hope lightened in her eyes. Perhaps her mother would be here as well? It quickly died away when no mention of her mother or even her father was made.

“Our High Lord and Lady are unfortunately due as well.” All humor fell from his features at the mention of the two fae. Clearly not happy that they would be making a visit. She had heard many stories of the High Lord and High Lady, and The Night Court itself. Some Good, Some bad, some simply myth and legend. She wasn’t sure who to believe or what was real or myth. Ella’s fingers tightened around the book as he stepped closer, holding his hand out for her to take. She slowly took it and accepted his help in standing from the chair she was found in.

“You will not speak to any of our guest besides your brothers, or appear unless summoned. Is that clear?” He spoke firmly, his hand holding her own tightly in warning. She only nodded in reply, knowing what would happen if she disagreed or disobeyed. Keir’s whipping had only been a week ago. The throbbing pain of her torn back would not let her forget that lesson anytime soon. Kedron placed a tender kiss against her head.

“Go dress in something presentable for your brothers, I’ll come get you when they’re here.” Kedron dropped her hand, and turned to exit the way he had come. Despite his back being turned she only nodded in understanding. She had no desire to see her brothers but if they were coming there was no way of avoiding it. Nothing they could do was any worse than what she had already experienced anyway.

~~~~~~~~

Lucien knew that coming to the Court of Nightmares would never become easier. Coming here would never stop reminding him of every minute he and so many others spent Under the Mountain. The very court that inspired Amarantha. Everything in him would be thankful that it was not often he had to come here with the others. It was likely that Lucien would not be here at all today if wasn’t for Elain’s prompting. She could say nothing more to the Inner Circle except she felt a strong urgency for him to be there.

He stood in his directed corner of the throne room, watching his High Lord and High Lady play their game with Keir, getting statuses on everything they deemed important. It had been a week since that night Elain had shared that vision with him. Though he didn’t want to admit it, he was beginning to think far too much on it. Elain had told the rest of them what she had seen, but no one seemed to be able to make sense of it. Was it a vision for his future? Was it some warning?

Lucien tore his gaze from Rhys and Feyre as they sat on their thrones, dismissing Keir. He spotted the other inner circle members throughout the room, Mor, and Amren. And no doubt Azriel, somewhere here blending into the shadows. Cassian opted to protect the town house while they were away, keeping Nesta and Elain company.

He froze when his eyes landed on Eris, and his three other brothers mingling with members of the court. Straightening up, Lucien turned his attention back towards the High Lord and High lady hoping none of them would notice him. With no such luck Eris sidled up to Lucien with a smirk drawn across his features.

“My, my brother how good it is to see you,” he chuckled with an air of arrogance, patting Lucien’s shoulder as if they were old friends. When his eldest brother refused to leave when met with silence he turned towards him to speak.

“What, may I ask, are you and the others doing here?” Lucien crossed his arms over his muscled chest, no ounce of kindness in his russet eye.

“Only checking up on some business between our courts is all,” Eris simply shrugged.

“And what Business does the Autumn Court have with Hewn City?” Lucien’s cool and collected demeanor did not falter as he turned to his brother.

“Now, I can’t go off sharing court secrets, now can I?” Eris chuckled, leaning against the stone wall they both stood by. “How is everything going dear Lucien? Is Mor still being the slut she is? How about your High Lady? She hasn’t been crushed by the pressure of her position yet, has she?” His smirk did not leave his lips as he continued. Lucien clenched his fist as he kept his attention to the Rhys and Feyre. He would not make a scene. He would not let it show these insults affected him, no matter how badly they did.

“Oh, and how’s sweet Elain? She must still be mourning that human scum, Greyson. Poor naïve little Elain.” Oh, that bastard knew. He knew Lucien and Elain were mates, knew they had accepted that years ago. He knew that any comment towards Elain would get right under Lucien’s skin.

“If you value your life, Eris, I suggest you shut that mouth of yours immediately,” Lucien seethed with complete and utter silent rage, placing a hand on the hilt of his sword strapped to his side.

“Are you threatening me now, brother?” Eris pushed off the wall making a step towards the long-haired man. “We both know you don’t have the guts to end my life, you never have.”

“You underestimate me far too much. You insult my family again and I won’t hesitate, brother.” Eris let out a roaring laugh, only stepping closer to Lucien.

“Oh, that’s cute isn’t it, they’re your family now? It only makes sense. A group of worthless bastards, whores and outcast that no one else wants. You fit right in.” Lucien’s control and unbothered demeanor rushed out of him as his right fist swung against Eris repeatedly. His face, his stomach, anywhere Lucien could reach. Eris only laughed that cruel roaring laugh again before swinging right back. There was no doubt everyone had turned towards their brawl now. The crowd began murmuring before shouting was heard and the crowd parted for Keir and his son. Lucien did not slow his attack, letting years of anger boil out. He did not step away even when the inner circle members crowded around them, shouting for him to stop, albeit reluctantly.

“Get your dog off my guest,” Keir roared towards Rhys and Feyre as they descended the dais towards them. Lucien released a snarl far more animal than Fae as Azriel finally managed to rip him off Eris, but not without one last punch to his gut. Eris stood to his feet breathless as he wiped the blood dripping from his mouth and chuckled. Lucien released another growl lunging for the Fae male again, but Az held firmly.

“You’re just going to let him get away beating people to a pulp?” Keir raged on, waving a hand towards the younger Vanserra. Rhys only shrugged, but Lucien caught the gleam in his High Lord’s eyes, his High Lady’s eyes as well. The urge they fought to smirk.

“We’ll deal with him later. Frankly I think we can all agree Eris deserved it.” Feyre spoke stepping closer to the gathered crowd.

“Setting such bad examples for our little sister, Lucien. She might think she can just attack whomever she pleases,” that mischievous glint only shone brighter in Eris’ eye, “On the eve of her wedding as well. I’m sure she’s already terribly overcome with stress and nerves.” Lucien’s heart began thundering. Little sister? He quickly glanced at the high Fae surrounding him. A few blinks from Mor and Feyre were the only shock any of them seemed to show.

“You seem to be going mad,” Lucien grumbled, “We don’t have a…” He paused as his focused turned towards Keir’s son, who gestured as if calling someone over. Ice filled his veins as a young female stepped forward who no doubt looked like Lucien, yet so many features resembled his mother as well. His confusion was pushed aside as horror raced through him when he took in her state. Her long fiery hair fell in naturally loose curls down her back, a braid crowning her head as she wore a simple black gown. But her skin was unnaturally pale, her eyes sunken in with dark color circled under them. She looked so unhealthily thin, seemingly drowning in the fabric she wore. The worst of it was the brutally damaged tissue that wrapped around her right shoulder, ran down her arm and covered her frail hand as well. She had clearly been burned, leaving permanent scars. He even spotted a few bruises scattered across her skin. Was this his sister? How had he never known, and why was he never told. He watched as Kedron lifted his hand, grazing a knuckle across her moon white skin. The girl blinked a few times turning her gaze away at his touch. His other hand lay on her waist and a damning smile fell across his lips.

“Eleanor Vanserra, my future wife. She truly is a beautiful thing, isn’t she?” Lucien couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, couldn’t even think properly as he just stared. She was to be married to Kedron, and the thought made bile rise in his throat. Just the thought of what they already seemed to have done to her was too much. He felt Azriel’s hold relax as he studied the girl, Eleanor, as well.

It suddenly all made sense. This was Elain’s vision, at least in part. This was why she had felt so strongly he should have come. To meet this girl. His sister.

“Are you out of your Cauldron damned mind?” Lucien did not flinch as the shouts of Rhys reached his ears once they had all landed back in Velaris, safely in the town house. “For the Mother’s sake what were you thinking attacking Eris like that? We said to keep low,” he almost snarled. Feyre stepped up to Rhy’s side, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, no doubt trying to calm him. The others simply watched the interaction, not saying a word.

“I was provoked,” was all Lucien said. He was in a state of shock, and could not bring himself to defend his actions more than that. Rhys huffed out, running fingers through his night black hair, relaxing ever so slightly. The commander and other two Archeron sisters made their way down the stairs at the commotion.

“Like Feyre said, he deserved it. In fact, maybe Lucien was a little merciful on him,” Mor replied, falling back onto the plush couch in the living room and examined her nails. Lucien let out a soft snort. He couldn’t disagree with her on that.

Elain made her way swiftly to his side, wrapping her soft hand in his own. She asked the question he was sure the others wanted to know as well. “What happened?”

So, Lucien began telling her exactly what he had done, exactly what had been said and done to him. “Your vision was me and my sister, Elain. It was me and my sister meeting.” His fingers squeezed lightly as he spoke. The iron grip of shock did not leave his body as the girl, Eleanor, his sister flashed through his mind. Horror held firmly as he remembered the state of her body. He could not shake those eyes that just stared at him, but did not quite see. Eyes full of every ounce of pain she had endured and was enduring.

“How could you have not known you had a sister?” Cassian mumbled, arms crossed over his well-defined chest. Pity flashed in his eyes as Lucien recalled what he had seen.

Lucien’s lips parted as if he were about to speak, but no words fell. He had asked the same question the moment they stepped from the Court of Nightmares and he didn’t quite have an answer. Guilt began to rise in his chest. Guilt that he had not known about her, guilt that he could not have saved her from the horrors she surely went through at the Autumn court, and the horrors she was surely going through now.

“She’s young even for Fae standards. She can’t be more than eighty maybe ninety. I have little contact with my family in the Autumn Court, even now.” Lucien tried to rake through his thoughts, putting them in whatever orderly way he could manage. “We have to bring her here, or somewhere safe,” he mumbled, running a hand through his long hair, frantically looking between everyone in that room.

“Lucien, we can’t just…” Rhys could not finish his sentence before Lucien yelled.

“We have to save her!”

So I’m super excited for the next chapter! Some shit goes down and I hope you guys like it and get excited. Let me know what you think! As always I adore all of your reblogs and comments. Honestly one of my favorite parts of sharing my work is hearing what everyone thought.