#so many times i would be dashing over and over again into the ledge and it wouldn't be working. so i'd assume it'd be impossible to go ther

[zincbot]

played through tunic so fast i didn't even process anything besides filling my noteapp with "left right down up", but yo the production line for the obelisks? that was fucked

[quicktosimp]

Run

Romancing Pandora Day 04 - Predator/Prey

So'lek/Human!Reader

Warnings: 18+, Primal Play, Hunting, CNC, Bondage, Spanking, Humiliation, Degradation, Rough, Biting, Blood, Nipple Play, Fingering, P in V Sex, Cervix Play, Alien Genitalia, Use of Safeword, Aftercare

Words: 2564

Dividers by @cafekitsune

I had done it this time; I finally pushed his last nerve, and now my life is on the line. I have been running through the forest for hours now. I know that So’lek is playing with me; there’s no way a human could outrun a Na’vi, especially on his own turf. I had angered him so much that he grabbed me by the arm and dragged me away; he took us far into the wilderness. My legs aching as I pounded my fists on his arm. Once I was well and truly lost, did he let go, throwing me to the ground.

So’lek eyes were almost completely black as he turned to me, his posture ridged and angry, “Run,” He growled.

I stood on trembling legs and ran. The forest was dark, and I could barely see where my feet landed. I tripped over roots, twigs, and vines. As I scrambled through the woods, I fell so many times, covering myself in mud and bruising my body as I hit the ground hard. I could always hear him behind me, growling or chuckling at my plight. Whenever I did, I would try to hide in small nooks, waiting until he was gone. But I know he’s still there. I could feel his eyes on me. I continued to run, my heart beating out of my chest. I could barely hear anything over the sounds of my breathing. I was covered in sweat, and everything ached, but I couldn’t stop because who knows what he’d do to me. 

I screamed as a large hand reached out for me. So’lek missed me by a hair as I ducked under some low branches he couldn’t fit through. I could hear his growls behind me as I sprinted forward, trying to keep to the underbrush well outside of So’lek’s reach. But as I ran, I could hear him above me; even his steps were noticeable under here.  

“Come out, vrrtep,” He sang above me, reaching down, his large hands barely able to pass through the thicket, waving around erratically.

I fell to the floor, busting my knees open, as I crawled under his hands, making my way past him. As soon as I passed, I dashed off again. Following the path of the underbrush, I managed to get some distance, but all good things must come to an end. I did my best to slow to a stop, nearly tripping over my legs so I didn’t fall off the edge. In front of me was the ledge to a cliff over 100 feet down into shallow water. 

I heard him chuckle behind me. I couldn’t even turn to look as fingers laced themselves in my hair, pulling me off the ground.

“Look at you, vrrtep, always acting all high and mighty, but you are nothing but prey, meant to be hunted into extinction,” His voice was dark and condescending.

The pain from my hair being pulled was immense, pin pricks all over my scalp as So’lek held me in the air. I reached up, trying to grab onto his wrist and alleviate the pain, but I couldn’t reach him. I tried to complain, but only a small whimper came out.

“See? Such a small little vrrtep, but don’t worry. I’ll finally give you something useful to do,” His voice was smug as he removed his tewng, dropping it to the forest floor. 

My eyes widened in fear, “So’lek, what are you doing?” I started thrashing, needing to get out of his grasp.

So’lek threw me to the ground, stunning me in place, as he picked up his tewng again, looping it over a branch. He left it there, instead turning back to me. He grabbed my wrists, brought them together, and easily lifted me off the ground. So’lek then used the straps of his tewng to tie me there. The straps wrap around my wrists thickly many times until he knots it off, out of reach for my fingers. 

“No, So’lek! This is crazy. Let me go, and we can forget this all happened,” I begged him as tears started to fall.

“No vrrtep. I have been far too patient with you. It is time you learned your lesson,” So’lek explained disgustedly, his nose nearly pressed to mine.

So’lek reached for my shirt, which was already in tatters from running around Pandora, and grabbed fistfuls of it before ripping it apart. I squealed as I looked at the tatters in his hands, trying to distract myself from being exposed. So’lek dropped the broken clothes onto the ground, bringing his hands up and cupping at my clothed breasts.

“So’lek-”

“Shut it, vrrtep,” So’lek squeezed them in his grasp, well past the point of comfortable. 

I bit my lip while whining from the pain; my sensitive tits had never been treated like this before. Instead of breaking my bra, he pushed it down and forced my tits outside the fabric, exposing my nipples to cool air. My nipple pebbled from the air, forming stiff peaks, which So’lek decided to play with. Using his fingers, So’lek pinched both my nipples.

“Vrrtep, you are so fleshy… Txavä’” He sneered at me before pulling.

“Stop! It hurts!” I screamed as he pulled at my chest, my nipples and tits stretched taunt painfully, dragging me forward.

“It hurts!” So’lok mocked with a grin, “Good, maybe you’ll finally learn something.” He then let go, and I swang back into place.

Looking at So’lek, I realized that he genuinely meant it. He seemed livelier than I had ever seen him before, and his central slit, the home to his sexual organs, was relaxed, ready to mate. So’lek followed my gaze, realizing where I was looking. 

So’lek laughed darkly, “I have to say, vrrtep, your pretty little screams seem to be doing it for me,” His large hand grabbed at my clothed cunt, his hand covering the entire of my cunt and ass, “You keep telling to go ‘fuck off,’ and that I needed to ‘work through my tension,’ and I think this pussy will work perfectly,” So’lek smirked, as he started to rub at his slit. 

“It can’t fit,” I whispered fearfully. 

“You don’t have to worry about it fitting; I’ll make it,” So’lek reached for his knife, pulling it out; the blade shone in the moonlight as So’lek brought it to rest on my chest, “Such fragile skin, worthless to Pandora,” So’lek tapped the blades tip down my chest, over my stomach, and rested it above my pants, “Remember vrrtep your safety is in my hands,” Before ripping it clean through my pants. 

“Please! Stop!” I cried, tears falling faster as my heart started to beat out of my chest.

“Now, why would I do that?” He said before ripping my panties off.

I cried harder as the gentle breeze brushed against my cunt, watching as So’lek took in sight. He grabbed my thighs, spreading them wide apart. I tried to get out of his grasp but to no avail, as he lifted my leg so my cunt was level with his face. 

“It’s so tiny… I’m going to destroy it,” So’lek mentioned gladly. Then licking a stripe up my cunt, from my hole to my clit, sending sparks of pleasure. My head falls back as I stifle a moan, unable to believe I was enjoying this.  

“I did not believe that a vrrtep could taste so sweet,” So’lek’s voice was surprised before he delved back in.

His large tongue swiped over my pussy again before he latched on. His mouth encased my cunt as he sucked on it, his tongue focusing on my hole, slurping my juices. So’lek’s tongue keeps bullying my cunt, the large muscle barely making any headway into such a small place. He did it over and over again, bruising my entrance. So’lek gripped my hips even tighter, and I knew that marks would be left in my wake. He growled before picking up the speed, desperately trying to get inside. There’s only so much abuse my cunt could take before his tongue slipped in. So’lek groaned as he licked inside, fully tasting me. 

“No, So’lek, you’re too big!” I whined, unable to squirm away, my pussy leaking from being fucked.

I could feel his chuckle vibrate through me as he continued his efforts, sucking on my clit, while my hole was further abused. The thick muscle forces my walls to accommodate and stretch as he pleases. Each move was erratic; I couldn’t adjust to his pace. So’lek simply took what he wanted.

He pulled off with a pop licking his lips, “I thought a vrrtep only became wet when aroused?” So’lek grinned, “NO matter how much you beg me to stop, your dirty little cunt tells me the truth,” So’lek shifted me so he held me with one arm before sliding a finger inside my pussy and setting a rough pace.

I couldn’t think over the sounds of his hand hitting my ass and the quelching of my pussy, as So’lek finger fucked me. 

“NOooooo,” I moaned from the stimulation, my head fuzzy, but knowing deep down I wasn’t supposed to want this. 

So’lek stopped for a moment; I became hopeful that he was listening, only to be met with a second finger inside me. The stretch burned as he continued where he had left off, all the while wiggling and spreading his fingers.

“Listen to that, that’s the sound of your fuck wet pussy. I’m going to take what I want, and your filthy cunt is telling me it wants it too,” So’lek growled, then sinking his teeth into my thigh.

The sharp pain of his teeth, the curling of his fingers, and the filthy humiliation of it all, I came undone. It was like a dame breaking; pleasure flooded every inch of my body, my vision darkened, my thighs trembled, and my feet curled. I couldn’t stop moaning, even as drool slipped past my lips and trailed down my chin.

So’lek dropped me as if disgusted, pulling forcefully on my aching shoulders, “Screaming and begging me to stop, yet you just came from my fingers,” He shoved his fingers into my mouth, making me taste myself, as I gagged around his long appendages. 

His fingers weren't in my mouth for long, now trailing to his central slit, swiftly parting his slit and finding his cock. Bring it outside. His cock is enormous; at the base, it starts off as the same color as his skin, slowly lightening to the tapered tip, which is a pretty lavender color. The spines terrified me; all over the shaft of his cock were large spines that reminded me of his kuru. I could see them flexing in the darkness of the night. 

I could only whine at the sight; there was no way it could fit inside me. So’lek lifted me by the hips again, his fingers sliding over the forming bruises, bringing my cunt to his face, and promptly spat on my clit, before it slid down to my hole. So’lek lowered my hips, lining me up with his cock. I whined and weakly tried to wiggle away. Pain erupted through my pussy, as a loud smack rang through the air. So’lek’s large hand was once again wet from my cunt.

“I don’t care if you don’t want this, I don’t care how much you scream and cry, this pussy is all you’re good for, and now it’s mine,” So’lek growled, slowly pushing in.

I screamed as he pushed in. The tapered tip popped past my entrance and was followed by each spine on his cock. All of them wiggling once inside me, wanting to lock into place to breed. They raked my insides as he continued to push in, never giving me a break.

So’lek groaned with his head tilted back, “So fucking tight vrrtep, you trying to make me cum?” He ground his hips into my ass, trying to adjust himself inside me.

As he ground his hips, each spine inside me shifted, rolling and raking against the sensitive flesh. Many of the spines are still wiggling around, trying to find the perfect stop to lock. Those that had, were hard and unyielding, refusing to move from their spot, pulling on my flesh whenever So’lek moved. 

“OH! N-fu-aH!” I cried out uselessly, unable to even speak.

So’lek’s hips stuttered as more of his spines lined up, but he needed something more, “Look at you, my fucking slut. You’ve finally shut up, my cock fuck you stupid? Well, stupider,” His free hand threaded his fingers into my hair, pulling my head back and biting into the side of my neck. 

“NnnA-fu-A!” I couldn't stop my scream as his teeth broke my skin, my blood trailing down my neck and dripping to the ground.

So’lek pulled back his lips dripping crimson, “Now everyone will know you’re my slut,” His hips twitched more, and his cock started hitting my cervix.

The tapered tip begged for entrance, bruising my cervix in its demands. Each of his spines had locked into place, and all So’lek could do was grind his hips, none of his spines willing to budge, pulling and pushing on my walls. 

“Maybe they won't see you? I’ll lock you away, far from where another vrrtep could find you, and I’ll use you day and night. You’ll be nothing more than my obedient cocksleeve,” So’lek threw his head back as his cock breached my cervix.

It was like nothing I had felt before. A deep bruising while burning, yet it felt so good. Stretched wide in my most intimate place. More tendrils started to more, these ones near his cock head. They wiggled around my cervix, creating a tight seal, refusing to let a drop of cum leak out. 

“Brase yourself vrrtep, because this will be your life now,” So’lek grunted as I was filled with his seed. 

Each rope of cum hit my womb, filling me to the brim, marking me as his. Not a drop escaped due to his cock locking inside me. Each spine pulsating in tandem. My moans and whines were choked off as I fought to breathe. I was bent, and my ribs felt crushed; my arms were above my head, and I couldn’t move; I couldn’t breathe.

“Kelku,” I muttered weakly, and So’lek’s demenar changed.

His punishing grip turned soft, and he shifted me so I was upright, cuddled against his chest.

“Yawntutsyìp, what do you need? Are you okay?” He asked concernedly, checking for any missing injuries as he untied my wrists. 

So’lek didn’t let my arms fall limply like I wanted; instead, he eased them down, rubbing at my sore joints.

I took a deep breath; this position was much easier to breathe in, “M’okay, too squishy, and I couldn’t breathe,” I explained, resting my head on his chest. 

So’lek frowned as he cursed himself, “I’m so sorry, Yawntutsyìp. I should have known better. I will make sure that never happens again. Is there anything I can do for you now?” He asked again.

I lay there comfortably, thinking for a moment, “Just cuddles right now; maybe we can continue in a bit?” I asked him, peering through my lashes.

So’lek’s eyes were soft as he carefully walked over to the base of the tree, settling us down, “I think that sounds perfect.”

Taglist: @eywaite, @loakstahni, @justcaptiannoodles, @xylianasblog

[star-trekkin-across-theuniverse]

Worthy, pt 11

part 1 & 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10

__________

tags: @bolontiku, @rampant-salamander, @darkdragonpheonix , @440mxs-wife,  @castiels-sunflowers, @peekingsunshine, @alexakeyloveloki, @feelmyroarrrr

Word count: 3484

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I jumped back, smashing into the kitchen counter and screeched, but before I could regain my composure and run, he was on me, pinning me to the wall. I thrashed, but he was just too strong. Of course he was. He was a frost giant. And I was only half frost giant, so there was just no way for me to measure up.

He clamped his hand over my mouth and leaned close. His green eyes flashed over me, taking in everything about me in a fraction of a second. I felt almost like he could see inside me too, and was taking an accounting of everything that made me who I was. I struggled against the firm grip he had on my arms. For a slender guy, there was a helluva weight against me as he leaned across me to prevent my escape.

“Come now, Darling,” he purred. “Is that any way to greet your long-lost father?”

I struggled to protest against his hand and he just shook his head. “If you think I’m going to give you the opportunity to scream for assistance, you’re not smart enough to be a daughter of mine,” he chided. “But you do have the look of your mother to you. Is she still so beautiful?”

My skin crawled and I renewed my effort to break free. I kneed him in the groin and dashed past him. He shot up and blocked the door out of my suite, so I reeled around and headed toward the deck. Let him think what he wanted, I was getting outside one way or another. I should have spent some time over the past few weeks reading up on Loki, or questioning Thor about his powers. Even though I could clearly see him stalking towards me through my living room, two copies of him flashed into being near the edge of the balcony. He must have thought I was planning on flinging myself off the building.

“I merely want to speak, daughter. I would know my child. So many of my children have been ripped from me by Odin,” he spat. “I wish to learn everything about you before he steals you away from me as well.” The copies were closing in on me, backing me into a corner of the deck so I wouldn’t be able to get near the ledge. He honestly thought I would rather die than interact with him. I felt a flash of sympathy. How many children had been torn away from him that he would assume I would prefer death to speaking with him?

“Stay back, Loki,” I warned, holding my hands out in front of me. The edge of his mouth raised in a half-smile.

“You’ve got spirit. I like that. I only had a brief report of your abilities, of course,” he tilted his head as he closed in on me, moving the two illusion versions of him aside to look me over again. “I have heard your talents run to magic. Is that so, daughter?”

“Whoever gave you that report didn’t tell you my name?” I shot back. I didn’t understand the question. I was no sorcerer.

“No, knowing the Allfather’s tendencies towards my children, he felt it best to not reveal too much about you in Asgard’s halls,” Loki admitted. “I would know your name, child. Give it to me.”

“My name is Elizabeth Marie Carmichael.”

“Elizabeth Marie Lokisdottir, you mean,” he corrected me.

“No. I mean Carmichael. You didn’t raise me. You didn’t kiss my skinned knees better, or give me Tylenol when I had a fever. You didn’t come to soccer games, you didn’t lift me up when I was sad, and you didn’t hold me when my heart was breaking. You may have donated some genetics to me, but you are not my father,” I set my jaw. His eyes flashed and he was up against me instantly.

“Because I was not given the chance. I have had every one of my children torn away from me. I will not have you taken from me too, while you are still in your infancy,” he snapped.

“I am twenty-nine years old. I am hardly a child,” I pushed against him, but it was no use. He was solid.

“You are but a babe, Elizabeth. Half-Jotun. You will live for thousands of years yet. Long after your human father is dust, I will be there. Who better to raise you, help you understand what you are, than your own father?” His words were crisp and painful.

“You are not my father!” I pushed against him with all my force, and a spark bounced between us, pushing him away. The air around us crackled with energy, and a mask of surprise changed his features from hard and sharp to soft and vulnerable. His eyebrows knit together in confusion, and he looked impossibly young. I felt a weight in my hand that hadn’t been there before and Loki’s eyes widened in disbelief. I looked to my left and realized I’d managed to summon Mjolnir from at least ten floors above me. Which meant that Thor was not far behind.

I glanced back into my apartment, and sure enough, Thor was rushing through the door, which he had knocked off its hinges. He rushed toward the deck and then stopped to take in the scene in front of him. He wasn’t looking at me, but rather, his gaze was locked on Loki, and he didn’t even blink as he continued through my living room to the doors outside. The two illusion versions of Loki faded away, and Loki took a further few steps back from me.

“Loki?” Thor’s voice cracked. “But I watched you die. I held you in my arms as the life left you.”

“You never could tell reality from illusion, brother.” Loki took another step back, as Thor stepped toward him. Before he could make another move, Thor pulled him into his arms, crushing him against his chest. Loki looked lost and confused.

“I care not what sorcery kept you alive, Loki,” Thor held him at arm’s length and stared, tears overflowing his lashes. The damned man was even beautiful when he was crying. “But you are alive.”

“Is she your daughter, or mine?” Loki got right back to what he felt was important, disregarding Thor’s emotions. Thor looked confused for a moment, and then his laugh boomed out into the night.

“She is yours. And she is worthy of Mjolnir.” Thor looked immeasurably proud of me.

“You failed to mention that when you were in Asgard,” Loki accused.

“Considering Father’s long history regarding your children, I felt it wisest to not feed him reasons to destroy her,” Thor explained with a shrug. “How did you learn of Ella? I was careful to speak to Father with the utmost confidence.”

“I have my ways, Thor. I always have,” Loki refused to answer. “Do you really think he would destroy her? She is no monster or beast.”

“That did not protect Nari, did it?” Thor’s response was enigmatic. I was really going to need to read up on Norse mythology.

“He has never harmed Leif,” Loki countered.

“He feels personally responsible for Leif. Even all these years later, he bears the burden of guilt for what happened with Eira.” Thor’s words were gentle, and I felt as though I was listening in on something very private. “This is not about your other children, Loki. This is about Ella. And I sought to protect her from Father. I will also protect her from you, should I need to.”

“Your father will not be an issue,” Loki spat. “But I will not be kept from my daughter. So you might want to organize a custodial agreement with her for use of the hammer, brother.” He drew himself up to his full height, his eyes narrowed. Thor was so overwhelmingly big that on first seeing Loki, I’d thought he was small. He certainly was less bulky than Thor, but he was very nearly the same height, and I suspected that despite his more lithe appearance he was also very nearly the same strength. As they eyed one another, staring down their noses in matched contempt, I could see the regal bearing that betrayed their birthright as princes, and I shuddered with the realization that if Loki was truly my father, and the DNA test said that he was, I was a princess. Or half a princess. I wasn’t really sure how that worked.

“I have no wish to fight you, Loki,” Thor sighed. “But as she is your daughter, so too is she my niece. And I will honour her wishes before I honour yours.” Loki looked at me and the painful longing in his eyes was almost too much for me to bear. I blinked and looked away, feeling my own eyes fill with tears.

“We shall start slowly then, daughter. I will be back,” he promised, placing a hand gently on my shoulder. I wanted to shrug it off, but I couldn’t. I met his gaze and nodded wordlessly. He stalked away from us, around the edge of the balcony and disappeared. I looked up to the sky, wondering where the lights from the Bifrost were, and then ran around the corner, thinking he must just be hiding. He was gone.

“How did he do that?” I asked Thor. He shook his head.

“Loki knows many paths between realms that even Heimdall is unaware of. I would expect he knows of a rift he can control for travel,” he explained. I realized I was still holding Mjolnir and thrust it out for him to take.

“Sorry. Again.” I cringed. Thor took the hammer and put his arm around my shoulder.

“I will not lie, Ella,” he began. “It vexes me that you have such power over Mjolnir, but I have no control over who is or is not worthy to wield her. If I must share her, for now I will be content that it is with my own kin.”

“But, I’m not.” I couldn’t understand why he was ignoring that he and Loki were not blood relations.

“You are. Loki is my brother. And you are his child,” he explained. “It is that simple.”

“Nothing is ever that simple, Thor,” I argued.

XXX

I could feel the tension starting at the base of my skull as the plane began its descent into SeaTac airport. After meeting Loki, I’d decided it was time to talk to my mother about what exactly had conspired between them to lead to my conception. I needed to know if she had been tricked or if she had willingly gone to his bed, nearly ten years after marrying my father.

She met me at the baggage claim and threw her arms around me.

“Look at your face. Who would have thought my genius would become a model?” Mom teased as she kissed my cheek. I rolled my eyes.

“Yes, I am so glamorous,” I flipped my hair and slid a finger under my top to catch my bra strap back up on my shoulder. “Dad said you were on-call. I was expecting him.”

“I traded with Don Connolly. He owes me a few. You sounded so serious on the phone I wanted to intercept you for ice cream before we got home,” she admitted.

“Is Doc Connolly still skipping out on-call shifts for Seahawks games?” I laughed. Ever since Mom had taken the position as one of the ER attending physicians, she’d been covering for Dr. Connolly’s football addiction. Mom’s laugh was like music, and I saw myself looking at her with fresh eyes. Her hair had long ago gone silver, and she still wore it long, pulled back in a sloppy braid. Her blue eyes were sharp, revealing the strong intellect behind them. She had been stunning as a young doctor, and in a lot of ways her beauty had held her back for years, as the male doctors she worked alongside didn’t take her seriously. After all, they argued, beautiful women couldn’t possibly have brains. She’d proved them wrong, never once faltering in her goal to be the best surgeon on the West Coast. She’d taken the ER attending position when the twins were in their last couple of years of high school, saying that the ER was more relaxing than an operating suite when you had two wild teenage daughters. In short, Mom was a trailblazer.

“He more than makes up for it in the off-season. Dad and I got to spend a week working on the house this spring without a single interruption.” When Dad had retired from his position as the Director of Nursing, they’d bought an old Craftsman style house and were restoring it. I think Dad sometimes felt he had something to prove, after a forty-year career as a nurse. I didn’t think he did. My dad was one of the manliest men I’d ever met until the Avengers happened into my life. It was hard to compete with Norse gods and superheroes, but I think Dad still stood out among them.

Mom maneuvered the car through the parking lot and pointed us in the direction of the nearest Ben & Jerry’s. Ever since I’d been little, Mom had had a sixth sense about things bothering me, and would needle me into speaking over ice cream. It wasn’t any different now that I was older. Ice cream was the balm that could soothe all ills.

“So,” she said, “what’s bothering you?”

“What do you mean?” I was evasive.

“Elizabeth Marie. You did not come home after a month in New York City just to visit. Something is bothering you. Out with it,” she demanded. Like I said, sixth sense. I sighed and took a few bites of ice cream, letting the cream melt over my tongue. I hadn’t had ice cream in months.

“It’s about your fertility issues,” I started. Mom paused and I caught a barely perceptible flinch. “Is it something I need to worry about?”

“I don’t think so. Like I’ve said before, I was an early user of the birth control pills. The hormone doses in those early years were outrageous. Unsafe, really. I was basically sterilized,” she was too quick to answer, but it was the same story she’d told me my entire life.

“So what changed? I mean, if you were sterilized by high hormone dosing, how was that reversed? You had me, then the twins came so soon after.” I knew I was leading her into a trap, but I didn’t know how else to get to where I needed to go with the conversation. It’s not easy to just blurt out a question like ‘did you willingly sleep with a Norse god?’ I hadn’t pursued this particular topic with her in years. Not since I’d taken biology, so I had a better understanding of the gaps in her story now than I had as a younger woman.

“I don’t really know. It was almost like magic, and I was pregnant with you.” I could tell she was lying. I felt like I’d been punched in the gut.

“Magic? Mom, come on. Magic and science are one and the same. You taught me that,” I protested, fighting the flush of anger I could feel starting at my throat.

“Ella, you are an engineer, not a doctor. There are some things about medicine you are just not going to understand,” she hedged. I closed my eyes and looked away. It was overcast, which was unsurprising for Seattle. I pushed my ice cream away.

“Is Dad my father?” I blurted out. Mom flinched, like I’d slapped her. “I mean, was it Dad who was sterile? Did you need a sperm donor?” I was backpedalling, trying to make it sound less like I was accusing her of unfaithfulness. She collected my ice cream cup and stacked it on her own.

“This is not something to discuss in public, Ella.” She dropped the discarded ice cream in the garbage and headed to the car. I scrambled to catch up. Once we were back on the interstate, she started speaking again. “I was desperate for children. Women’s lib had brought us a long way, but women were very much still valued by how many kids they had in the 80s. But no matter what kind of effort your father and I put into it, I just wasn’t conceiving.” She offered.

“Uh, ew,” I responded. Didn’t really want to think about effort and conception where my parents were involved.

“Don’t be such a prude, Ella, it’s merely biology,” she snapped. “Your Dad and I had terrible fights about it. It was no easier to be a male nurse than it was to be a female doctor, and there were often comments made. That I was your father’s beard, or that our marriage was a sham, so that he would look straight and I would look appropriate. It was fine for a married woman to be a doctor, but apparently not a single one. Your Dad met him first. He claimed to be an orderly, but he was far too clever to merely be a patient porter. He said he knew a way to heal me.”

“Oh god, no.” I felt sick.

“At first we were both horrified. But the more we thought on it, the more it seemed reasonable. He said he could heal my infertility. He promised that I would bear children by your father. It was magic, pure and simple. He laid a hand on my womb and I felt something entering me. Not corporeal, of course, so I assumed I just wanted this snake-oil salesman to be telling me the truth. I figured I’d imagined it. When he took his hand off my belly, he said he’d fixed the imbalance within me. Said it was a trick he’d learned from someone long ago. He looked so young, I couldn’t imagine how he and long ago intercepted,” she continued. Even though I knew how the story was going to end, given my DNA results, it somehow seemed so much worse hearing it from Mom. “It was a bargain with the devil really. Sometimes I don’t wonder if that’s who he was. I didn’t know how to thank him, and said as much. He asked me for one night. Dad and I both protested, and were terrified he would undo whatever he had done. But he promised he wouldn’t. He just said I reminded him of someone and he would feel her love again. We went back and forth about it, Dad and I, but he was a kind, selfless young man. He was handsome; he had a silver-tongue. Finally I capitulated. I vowed to your father it would only ever be the once, and I had my night with the young man.”

“Oh, Mom,” I groaned in disappointment.

“I don’t regret it,” she shook her head. “I don’t regret it, and neither does your father, Ella. I knew immediately that I was pregnant. Whoever he was, whatever he was, he’d worked a miracle, and I will never regret the result. He gave us you. And his magic allowed us to conceive the twins. I always assumed he would come looking for you, but as you grew up, and he never came, I just figured he’d vanished forever. But he must have returned, for you to be asking questions.”

“Sort of.” It was my turn to hedge answers.

“Ella, I just told you the greatest secret of my life,” she prompted. I sighed.

“Do you remember when the aliens came to New York? And how Iron Man helped save the city?” I asked. Mom nodded. “There was a group of other heroes who helped save the city. One of them was Thor. Like, actual Norse mythology Thor. Complete with the hammer, just like the myths you used to read when I was a little girl.”

“Alright,” she turned into the driveway, and put the car in park, but left it running.

“No one except Thor is supposed to be able to pick that hammer up. But my first night there, I lifted it,” I continued. I went into minute detail as I explained the story to her, even detailing the embarrassing incident with the towel. “When the DNA result came back, it said Loki was my father.”

“Loki? The trickster?” Mom paused. “No, it makes sense.”

“Thor says he’s a master shapeshifter, so I needed to know if you’d been with him willingly,” I explained. “I could never accept it if he had tricked you.” Mum covered my hand with hers.

“I know you find the thought of your old mom and sex disgusting, but I was quite willing,” she reassured me. She was right. I totally wanted to barf.

[umbralsound-xiv]

I’d opted to go on a walk. Nothing... Pressing. Just me and my own company and footsteps. I’d opted to visit Gyr Abania... No particular reason, only that it is the road less travelled. I have found myself wandering much, these last few suns.

I’d found a cosy little cliffside where i’d settled to write, to replenish myself, watching the comings and goings of people on the road. Merchants. Wanderers. Strange groups of people bound for a graveyard...

...But i didn’t think anything of it. Not then, anyway. Not until i heard the familiar sound of conflict...

By the time anyone noticed, the scene was already coming to an end. In the light of the dying Gyr Abanian sun slouched an ever-proud Ishgardian, blood spittle dripping at a careless pace with an ever-condescending grin as the man stood against a gaggle of his adversaries. Two Elezen and a Xaela brandished their blades while two more Xaela held rods at the ready. From a distance, shouts of some contention could be heard, something heated and quite definitively to the brim with ire.

Though the words of Mattisaux, gripping his sword with lamed hand, glistening with his own shade of red, held fast to a self-satisfied malice that dragged his voice. “...And I would do it again and again. This time slower... to savor your screams... and the women.” Despite there only being men present, he still knew that their faces would twist and watched as he allowed their emotions to fly. Fly in particular with a billowing stream of flames aimed straight at him to which he held his sword up at a diagonal to defend against it though the rest of himself was widely left open.

It had been a good many bells since she had seen the small procession of people enter the graveyard, high up from the ledge in which Bexy had nestled herself. Often, she found watching the comings and goings of people to have interest, and more so when no other pressing matters had garnered her attention. Still, it had been some time, now, since they had arrived, and she had spied none leaving between penning lines of poetry. Her attention was only broken when the familiar cacophany of combat filled the air. Curiosity drew her closer to the scene, expecting undead, perhaps voidsent at worst... But the scene before her was more far flung than anything her imagination might conjure up.

Bexy's eyes widen almost immediately, and instinct takes hold. Were this a contract, she may well have bided her time to learn of the situation. Alas... It was not. A bow is instinctually formed at her fingertips at a moment's notice, leather boots gaining ground on the situation until she was but only several fulms away from Mattisaux. She doesn't call his name; she wagers he would know. The telltale whistle of an arrow sails forth to one of the flame-wielding foes, with intent to end him.

In an abrupt, choked fashion, the surge of flames died and dispersed, leaving Mattisaux open to dashing forward and ripping into one of the Elezen standing close who was caught unaware by the fall of his comrade. For an instant, Mattisaux also hadn’t a clue what was happening, not until a skin-crawling chill whizzed past with the arrow that struck the mage down to a crumple. “You said he was alone!” The last robbed mage panicked, looking to Bexy with his rod pointed at her. The Xaela wielding a sword, who also seemed to hold some vague authority over the group, shouted in return. “That doesn’t matter now, kill her too!”

I had no clue, no idea for what was transpiring. My friend was in trouble, and i wasn’t just going to stand idly by and watch, be damned for the consequences!

I would put down the resistance, and ask questions later.

“Bexy!” Mattisaux barked without looking at her. “Do -not- kill these Xaela. Wound them.”

"You can -try-!" Bexy barks back, head inclined. "---You'd best have a damned good explaination for what in the -Hells- is going on, Mattisaux!" Still, it seemed that she'd heeded his words, arrow aimed for the knee of the remaining mage; attempting to skewer him and freeze the limb to the ground. "...Three Hundred and Four..."

...How many moons has it been since i’ve killed someone, now?

...It felt strange. But i can’t think about it. Not now.

The mage, in the middle of casting, thought he could at least finish his weave of lightning before Bexy was able to let her next arrow fly, but the miscalculation led to his sharp yelp of pain and an awkward fall to the ground. Now with only one Elezen and the lead Xaela left, Mattisaux felt slightly empowered enough to chuckle deep.

Mattisaux gathered a reckless rush of blackened astral energies around him, whipping bloody scarlets for that menacing effect before he jumped and dove his blade into the other Elezen who thought he could defend himself with his feeble shield. The Xaela, already seeing how bad the situation was turning, rushed to try and strike Mattisaux before his comrade got skewered.

Bexy catches the hurried rush of the other Xaela as he closed in, a breath drawn and held as another icy arrow formed, long and slender against her fingertips. The bow is drawn taught, as she watches, steady and waiting... Before the arrow sails forth. This one moves for his sword arm, aiming to render it similarly wounded.

It was merely a choice between helping a comrade or slaying the enemy and the Xaela opted for the former. However, to his misfortune, he achieved nothing. In attempting to strike Mattisaux, not only did his sword fall from his grip, he also had an ice-clad arrow through his arm.

The crippled mage struggled to raise his rod to whisper a spell, soon whipping a flurry of wind around everyone to knock them off their feet. “Gah! No, you will not best us!” Unfortunately for him, it did not stop Mattisaux from staking his sword and ending the last Elezen in their group.

Bexy narrows her eyes, opting to still her assault with the threat of the wind potentially sending an arrow anywhere but where she wished it to go. Instead, she opts to close the ground, taking her bow in her hands and seperating it; now two crudely formed daggers in each hand which sharpen to a point. She offers no words; pale gaze only dancing back and forth between enemy and ally; but poised and ready to lunge.

With the Elezen gladiator dead and bleeding on the ground, Mattisaux’s laughter grew to something that could be considered devilish. “And like that, you crumble!” Despite how his arm drenched in his blood and the searing pain that coursed from the unseen battle before, the adrenaline kept Mattisaux alive and elated. In a few fluid movements, as the leading Xaela dove to retake his sword, Mattisaux swiped low to slice his knee and lop the leg off. The wind was not quite as strong as its initial burst, dying rapidly as time drew on and his fear increased. As Bexy changed from bow to daggers, he continued to weave his spell though he seemed rather clueless on what else he should be doing that would not get him immediately killed.

Bexy makes her move, then; towards the only other who would give her trouble. A swift lunge posessed more of an animal than a woman as she skitters around him to drive a knee into his back, and a blade into the offending arm, pinning it to the ground. The tip of her free blade rests gently at the edge of his throat; close enough for the warning of cold to be felt against flesh. Only then does she speak. "...So much as another movement out of you, and i will pick the teeth from your head and peel you like an apple."

“I yield! I-I yield...!” The mage toppled easily, perhaps a bit too easily, dropping his rod to the ground in the tackle and sucking in a shaken breath then the cold edge of her knife pressed against his neck. “Arban, please! We must stop this if you want to live!” As his comrade pleaded, ‘Arban’ was naught but enraged, most especially after losing half his leg. “You disappoint me, Oktai! You-” His dialogue was cut off by Mattisaux’s boot colliding into his cheek. “Shut your mouth, you disgusting filth of the earth. You lot barely put up a fight and now you expect me to listen to your sodded crying?” After spitting in the man’s face, he finally looked to Bexy, slowly walking toward her and the mage. “You can leave him to me now, I have work to do.”

"No." Bexy's single word was spoken sharply; eyes narrowed into thin, eerie slits. "You tell me what the hell happened, Mattisaux." Her tone shifts an ilm; concern and accusation, both. "What would have happened, had you not been lucky enough that i was in the vicincity, hm?"

I wasn’t leaving without an answer. If i am to bloody my hands, even by choice, i would know why i had done it.

And i would get it from him, himself... Or his enemies.

...However i was able to.

Bexy’s curt answer widened Mattisaux’s eyes before filling them with an annoyance now directed at her. “Leave your curiosity for when I have the patience for it, girl. I would not have died to -these- things so you can step away from it now. I need to take care of him.” Of course, hearing Mattisaux so casually speak those words startled the mage. “N-no! We, no, -I- am sorry! I will never harm you again, just leave me out of this!” The young Xaela was not above swallowing his pride to save his skin, something the older, bleeding Au Ra misjudged.

Bexy's gaze settles on Mattisaux flatly, ears slowly pinning back in irritation as her tongue runs over her briefly bared teeth. "No. I want to know -now-." Her attention... Diverts, to the mage in her grasp. "You. Oktai, was it not...?" A slow tilt of her head, as her voice dips into a chilly whisper. "Since my dear friend deigns not to keep me informed of situations i am now involved in, would -you- care to bring me up to speed... Hm?"

“Bexy! You will do as I say!” His frustration yanked the collar of her coat with his less injured hand. “Or I will-” Before he could finish his threat, Oktai shrilled to attention. “Of course, madam! Please, let me!” Of course, the moment Oktai opened his mouth, Mattisaux shouted all manner of colorful expletives at the man to quiet.

Bexy -hisses- as her collar is yanked; a sound rarely heard even to her enemies, never mind her friends. "----Let him speak! Unless you have something to hide? Hm?" An interrogatory glare was given to Mattisaux, then; remaining much where she was, despite his pulling.

An intense bout of staring paused his speech, holding her in his grasp until ultimately shoving her back to herself, not like she moved to begin with. In the tense silence, Oktai thought the moment was as good as any to start explaining himself. “We came as heretics to hunt down this Mattisaux...” His bright, white limbal eyes flashed to Mattisaux before looking forward, suddenly hesitant to continue. “You will not kill me should I confess?”

...I almost felt sorry for him. I... Did. Perhaps he didn’t deserve his fate. He seemed... Young. Misguided, perhaps? I do not know.

...But he chose his path. I would not kill him, no.

I didn’t need to.

“Oktai! Do not tell your enemies about us! Have some pride in your final moments.” Arban still managed to keep afloat despite his blood loss though he was largely incapacitated.

"I will not, no." Bexy spoke, sweeter and softer than she had before; even if the blade didn't budge an ilm from his throat. "It does not sound like a personal grievance..." She mused. "Not from you, at least, Oktai. Tell me more, mm?"

Regardless of how sweet her words were, they did not give Oktai too much confidence in them. He remained stiff and afraid but spoke rather freely. “You are correct to an extent. The, uh... Ishgardian there who will not kill me, yes? He has killed a great deal of my kind and plenty worse to some others and we only wanted to put an end to him in return. Simple revenge, yes? He had slain us in cold blood, even after we have pleaded and bowed. We thought he may have died before, but now that we see he was still here and alive, we saw our chance.” Mattisaux merely sighed, resigning to hearing something he did not quite enjoy but patiently waited until the end. “There you have it, Bexy. You already know as much, now let me handle the rest.”

Bexy withdraws the blade from his neck, and releases the one still in his arm, to keep it there. Gently ruffling the hair of the Xaela, she rises more fully to her feet; to look Mattisaux in the eyes before standing beside him. "That wasn't so difficult now, hm?" As for the recipient to her words, that wasn't so easy to tell. Bexy moves her gaze away, then; towards the other who had kept his quiet, before. She offers no further remark.

Oktai voiced several breathy gasps of pain, half expecting to be killed regardless. When she rustled his hair about, he even squeaked a yelp before realizing he was alive enough to be embarrassed. “I am free...?”

Arban, meanwhile, growled weakly, growing paler by the instant. “Freeing this one will do you no good, Demon. More of us will come for you and if you are not shown dead, your friend will die by our hands.” Mattisaux had already lost his patience, and the sheer fact that the more annoying of the group taunted him stomped him by the Xaela’s side to strangle him quiet.

"I will not kill you." Were Bexy's only words to Oktai; but there's no smile that greets her expression for speaking it. Instead, it sours considerably when Arban speaks, narrowed eyes back upon him once more. "You can -try-." She repeats, watching as Mattisaux's boot is driven into him, before her attention is pulled back up to the Elezen's face. She holds her silence, and only watches, now.

In a matter of gasping moments, Arban was silenced for good and Mattisaux was only marginally satisfied. Upon lifting himself from the ground, he huffed a heavy breath, muttering, ‘Now for the other one’ before striding over to snatch Oktai’s neck. “That you would give him just false hope, dear. I would commend you if you had not wasted my time and a bit of fun I could have had.”

"I said i would not kill him. I never mentioned anything about you." Bexy responds a little coldly, watching as he grasped him. A short, sharp movement as she half moves to defend him, clear conflict on her expression. A held breath, as she moved to call out... And doesn't. A singular sharp, chilly huff is exhaled from her nose, the sorrow in her gaze evident. "Oh, do what you will, Mattisaux!" She barks, before storming away to the tree; frost catching each tuft of grass as she made her way.

...Something about the entire altercation just...

...I know it’s for the best. That they die. No one to come back for revenge. No one to watch for when you sleep with one eye open. So why, then?

Why was this... Different?

I didn’t kill him. But i know Mattisaux well enough.

A quick death was the greatest mercy he could hope for.

Mattisaux, wrapped in a need for a lengthy bloodlust, paid no mind to the madness that was Bexy’s expression, but the moment she chided him was when he had a problem. “And -what- are you having a tantrum for?” He stood up to follow after her but not before stabbing his blade into the Xaela’s shoulder to keep him in place. “Stay there, you cretin, or I will do worse than what I have planned.” Oktai merely cried in pain and grief at his personal turn of events.

Mattisaux hardly reached her halfway when he shouted at her. “You act like a child now after killing a man out here?”

"Mattisaux, if i was having a tantrum, you'd be picking pieces of your own organs out of your hair. If you knew me half as well as you claimed to, you would understand. Just..." She looks to the squirming Xaela, and back. "Get it over with quickly." She snapped, offering a glare over her shoulder, before turning away. She does not watch.

All he could do was wheel his eyes up and around at her back, soon turning around to Oktai. “Consider this a mercy at the behest of this ridiculous woman that seems to have taken a sick liking to you. Take solace that -you- have escaped my descaling, however, your brethren that I catch will not be so lucky.” He guaranteed that Bexy would be able to hear him though he never had to put the effort in with his natural volume.

Plucking his sword free from the mage’s shoulder, Oktai barely had time to react when his neck severed from the rest of his body. As much as Mattisaux would have enjoyed prolonging the inevitable, he was more concerned with the unusual attitude from the frosted Miqo’te. “Now, what happened to that ruthless Miqo’te I used to know? Have you switched conscience with that girl you lot have buried in your front lawn? The one we thought was really you?”

Bexy gives a sharp sigh at the sound. Regret. Relief. It was hard to tell which. Both, perhaps. "...It is better that he died." She responds, bitterly. Ice begins to crawl up the side of the tree, and she opts to rest on it, refusing to look behind her. "Do you know -why- i opt to kill people, Mattisaux? Have you ever considered it, just once?"

“You tempt me to be facetious, dear. The only reasons to kill a man is to do away with them for any given reason or because you enjoy the struggle before their end.” He wasted little time in answering, flicking the blood from his weapon and sheathing it away at his waist. Stepping closer to her, he continued. “You have told me of your days as that Midnight Coeurl, I know how you do enjoy it, dear, so why ask?”

"It is different, to then. And i won't deny that it is enjoyed... When it is deserved. Properly deserved... Not like this." She gazes outwards, attempting to dismiss the picture her face wore before he got close enough to see it. "Because killing them is easier than the alternative. Easier than watching your back every sun. Easier than worrying about threats of vengeance."

By the time he reached her, he, of course, tried to move around her for a better look at her face. “-You- did not kill any but the first, dear. Lamenting about -my- doing will only age you in rather unattractive ways. And you speak as if they were not planning to come after me regardless.” He huffed; the adrenaline and pain from earlier was still at bay but he could feel that he was well past the peak of it. “Listen, Bexy. I know what I have done, but I will never forgive them. Do you understand?”

"I don't lament it. They are dead. Gone. They will bother you no longer, even if others will. You are safe, for now. And that... That is what matters." She swallows, dryly. "---As my friend. That is what matters most to me. Be damned for anything else i might feel."

...How far will i take it, to see a friend safe?

...Would i murder innocent people? How many of them?

...When i am forced to choose between my own personal redemption, and their safety...

...I think i know already what my choice will be.

“And what -else- are you feeling? Pity for that scalekin I had slain? Regret that he died and you did not stop me? Sorrow that I still breath despite your empty-sounding words? Why come to my supposed rescue if you think it unjust?” Whether he willed it or not, he could not help but lace his words with frustrated soreness.

"...I don't know why they attacked you. If you'd care to enlighten me, with your side of things." She responds, a little lackluster. "...He was young. Wrong place. Wrong time. Wrong decision... But the decision was made, regardless. He picked his path when he chose to oppose you." Glassy eyes gaze to his, and finally drop to the floor after a short while. "...---Because i am your friend, Mattisaux. Or i should like to think so, despite everything... Some things are more important than justice. At least to me."

“I, too, would like to think of you as something of a friend, at least at this point of my life. Were I to chance upon someone attacking you, I would jump at the opportunity to slay them all, no questions asked, if that satisfies you. However, that does not mean you should do the same. While I do not know how they found me, I have already told you at least some of the terrible things in my past, my regrets, but you needn’t jump at my enemies even if I look like I am bloody and bleeding. Again, do you understand me? I know how hard of hearing you are.”

"It's a comfort..." Bexy half-smiles, even if it falls almost immediately. "I don't doubt the terrible things you did. Not one of them. Good or bad, justified or not... You had reason for your actions. Even if i do not agree." She takes another, more stubborn breath to drag her gaze back up to meet his again. "---What kind of friend, given the capacity, would simply stand idly by and watch as you were attacked? Not when i can do something about it." She pauses, quietly clearing her throat. "...But i want to know why, Mattisaux. Why they attacked you. You have killed so many of them, this is true enough. I... Can imagine. Is that truly the only reason?"

I did not think it so simple. I had heard it from the Xaela, for their reasoning. But i wanted to hear it from him, too.

If he would deign to speak of it, that is.

While he wanted to comment on what was likely a rhetorical question, he only sighed to the following. This time, he was not so quick to respond, not when the answer left a nasty taste in his mouth. Though, regardless of how his nose wrinkled and mouth pressed flat, he shifted himself to gaze toward the opening leading to the graveyard a few yalms away with tightly folded arms. “They have somehow convinced the one person I thought would always be on our side, my side, during the war. I suppose he still was in the end... -They- turned him against us. Not our other brethren. Those black-scaled dragons you call people. It fills me with an unimaginable fury to think that others do not feel this same way, Bexy. Especially so in Ishgard where we now break bread with them and more and laugh about the days we disemboweled each other’s families.”

Bexy gives a sharp sigh, shaking her head. "...I know my words won't convince you. I'm sure you've heard. Been told. Why would i be any different?" A long, drawn out exhale is given. "Your anger is misdirected. You are -allowed- to be upset, Mattisaux. Be angry. Hold a grudge. Seek vengeance... But for the love of Halone, or whatever god or goddess you opt to follow, direct it at the right people. You live so mired in your own past, that you either cannot, or refuse to see anything aside your own conclusions." Her words arrive more defeated; confident nothing would have swayed him, regardless. "---The longer you continue to punish people who have no hand in it, the longer the people truly responsible are allowed to walk free. And if you have put them to the sword already, as i suspect you already have... Then what is the rest of this? ...It's grief. Isn't it?"

...There are few more powerful emotions than grief. It is complicated, difficult understand. Difficult to process... And leaves a bitter sting more sharp that any kind of love.

...The things it can drive people to do, i...

...I only thank the Gods that none so close to me have been so cruelly taken. I dread to think...

The intensity at which his jaw clenched should have shattered his teeth; for a while, it appeared as if he had stopped breathing. Eventually, after a reluctant pause to keep from lashing at her, he shut his eyes. “Must you ask? The very ones who turned him are dead. Buried and tattered beneath the snow. Were I to have two wishes, one would be to bring him back and the other would be to raise those responsible so I could give them a proper, slower death. An agony they would feel for moons and years to come. How my heart yearns for that sort of fantasy yet breaks knowing that will never be. Does that answer satisfy you?”

"No. It doesn't. Not even an -ilm-." Bexy marches in front of him, head inclined even if she was several fulms shorter. "Because you don't have two wishes, Mattisaux. You have but a single, solitary life to lead. How many more people until you are satisfied, hm? Will you -ever- be?"

The instant he heard her move was the instant a long, irritated breath flattened his chest. When he opened his eyes to stare back at her chilled gaze, he glared back in defiance. “I will not. Was that not obvious already? I will continue as I am until I am killed or worse and, for everyone’s benefit, it ought to be the latter. What will you do about it, anyroad?”

"If you die? What will i do, Mattisaux?" A shred of grief laces her tone. "I will mourn a dear friend for the rest of my cycles. I will weep for the cycles spent in persuit of a revenge that could never be sated. And i will grieve for a man who so desperately wished things had turned out different, who had so deeply cared for his dearest friend, that he spent his life dedicated to the memory of how his ended." Bexy swallows a lump; but her expression holds a defiant, almost arrogant gaze that locked grief behind her expression. "I will spend some time in regret. That i was not able to convince a man that he had friends, and people who -cared-, even after the one he had lost."

Hearing her words, a not-so-terribly secret truth spoken so plainly for him to hear, upset him. “Are you through with your lamentations, dear? I do not need this from you nor do I need you to weep over me. Shed tears on someone else that matters like those you call your family should they ever pass before you expect.” After speaking his piece and loosening his arms was when the anesthetic of battle faded and the aching of his sword arm reared. Unintentional grunts of discomfort settled in his throat though he made an honest effort to keep them mostly to himself. “When next we meet, we will not revisit this topic.”

"You DO matter! And you need to hear it from -someone-, Mattisaux!" Bexy's voice rose as the temperture dropped, refusing to move an ilm from where she stood. "I will mourn and shed tears for whoever i damn well feel like, Mattisaux... Twelve knows you did for me."

As much as he did enjoy the cold, he knew better when Bexy was the source. It was enough to slightly shake him from his stubbornness and twist his brow for another reason. “You do not know -exactly- what I have done because of you, and regardless of that, you are clearly worth doing that and more. Must I list all you have done to help those miscreants you call family? It is more a charity house than a mercenary company.”

"No, but a well wagered guess told me enough." She fights the smallest curl at her lips before they move to something a little more sincere. "...Because they are my friends, Mattisaux. You might not be of the company anymore, but that does not change the terms of our friendship. I care." She pauses. "...Even if i think you're a stubborn, abrasive ass, from time to time."

Her ‘guess’ had him narrowing his eyes, quick to find anything else she would say to latch on to. “As a word of advice, you should not consider all who join your company family and friends. You, of all people, ought to know how awful people can be. You were only lucky with me since I happen to favor you over the other vicious and airheaded kittens out there. Though, now you make me curious over the times I come off as polite and sincere.”

"I do. I consider them my family; good and bad both. If they were truly terrible, Mist nor Adelle would let them join. You know this." She pauses, considering quietly. "...Yes, i remember all four occasions very well."

“Gods, girl. I am telling you to trust in your own judgment more than those two. They both are mad, though I doubt you will truly listen to me on that. That aside, let us move on from this friendship, caring talk. Now that this false leve is completed, I need to figure out who exactly sent me here and if he has already been killed, now that I am thinking about it.”

Bexy half rolls her eyes from his words, but gives a quiet, short nod. "...Best done before the trail goes cold." She confirms, looking at his arm. "...You will be well?"

Seeing where her eyes diverted, Mattisaux shoos his able hand in front of his blood-crusted arm to distract her. “I have yet to die, I doubt I will on my way back to Ul’dah. If I cannot use my arm, I still have my teeth... You coddle me far too much.”

"I -care-. And unless you want me to stay on the topic of friendship and all the other things you love so much, i suggest you accept it." She gently rests a hand on his good arm, before stepping aside. "...Be well, Mattisaux. Don't die."

“Gods damn it,” was all he could think to breathe before moving on. On reflex as her hand rested over his arm, he lifted his other to pat hers only to realize how deep his wounds ran. A sharp gasp surprised even himself, but soon had him sighing. “I will be -fine-. Mayhap I will send a letter later if I remember. Anyroad, you ought to quit this place before long. If the rest of their band do not show up to figure why they have not returned, the wildlife here will.”

Bexy slowly looks over to the side, beyond the tree, and gives a quiet sigh, only thankful the grass and brush obscured her vision. "...Yes... Indeed.”  She slowly moves away from him, offering a small, faint smile. "...Until then, Mattisaux." She responds, before moving onwards towards the gate.

...I pray he sees sense. He finds some other way... Before he gets too far in over his head.

I won’t say he’s a good man. I believed it once, and... Now, i’m not so sure.

But he’s my friend, despite all of that. And i...

...There is so little i would not do for my friends.

[cynettic]

Burning Things with Genshin Impact Characters

Summary - Burning things together, escaping burning buildings, and raiding Hilichurl camps <3 Ahh, the epitome of love.

Pairings - Chaotic Reader x Albedo / Venti / Ayaka / Scaramouche

Warnings - Mentions of fire, alcohol, suggestive themes, and uhm- ✨ c h a o s ✨

A/N - Bro- this is just my mental break after writing 6.9k of smut in my last post ;-; And my next two posts are supposed to be for Genshin women and their smut so… I need some cute fluff before I get into that.

Albedo

“Y/n… calm down.”

Urgent eyes darting over the vicinity of your apartment, you hardly spared the light haired boy a glance. “‘Calm down?’” You asked incredulously, flapping your arms around as if that would solve the issue of smolk. “I’m not sure if you’ve noticed yet, but our house is ‘burning.’” The bits of ash stung your arms, smoke seething against your eyes.

“I’m aware, I’m just asking you to get off the windowsill.”

Looking down at your already prepped foot right on the metal of the only opening the room, you flashed him a glare. “Uhm… no? I’ll have you know I have things to do and places to be, I’m a very important-”

“‘Y/n,’” Albedo interrupted, exasperated. “Please, come here.”

“No!” You shot back, “‘You’ come here, you aren’t going down in flames with your lab experiment. No matter how important it was.”

You could slowly see the patience from Albedo’s face melt away. An incredible feat, it was far too bad you didnt have the time to admire his ticked off face. “And you plan to jump off and break a couple bones?

“Better than death by fire.”

This time, the alchemist simply pointed to the experiment table, unable to form words.

“Yes and? I already know you messed up your experiment.”

“And,” he continued, irritated. “The table is the only ‘damn’ thing on fire. ‘The only thing on fire.’ The entirety of the house is just ‘dandy.’ Now help me put it out.”

You removed your foot of the ledge. “Oh, now that you mention it…”

Albedo put a hand to his head, sigh escaping as he rubbed his temples. “You’re almost worse than Klee… no, scratch that. You’re worse. Klee wouldn't have run away, she has the decency to stick around and out the fire out.”

“I thought it as a life threatening situation!”

“Mhm,” he hummed, displeased. “Whatever you say, get over here.”

Venti

Your drunk figure stumbled across the plain of grass, arms outstretched as you spun around. The wind rushed past your face, cool against the heat that ran through your veins. You felt dizzy, the world spinning in circles around you.

“Hey!” You spun around, foot sliding around the grass as you struggled to keep yourself from falling back. “You- you over there.”

“Yes?” The bard spoke, whisking the alcohol bottle in his hand in circles. He too had chugged a few too many bottles, but nothing to get him as wasted as you were at the moment. “And I do have a name you know- I’m aware you’re drunk, but it still hurts to know you’ve forgotten it~”

Squinting your eyes, you racked your mind for a name. “Oh.. uh…” It took only a moment till the name flashed in your name, and with a giggle, you turned back around. “Venti!”

“Yes?” He responded, this time with a wide grin.

All that stretched in front of the two of you was a wide field of grass, a grand tree, and a hilichurl camp. The two of you were too far away to quickly make it to the tree, and far enough not to arouse any suspicion with the monsters.

Of course your focus was on the hilichurl encampment.

“Look!” You pointed to the wooden pillars perched upright, two or three hilichurls dancing around a fire. “Lets destroy it!”

Venti nearly choked on the beverage in his mouth, swallowing it before he let out a chuckle. “Destroy it?” he repeated bemused, staring at your knocked up state. “I’d be surprised if you managed to make your way there-”

As if to prove him wrong, you started sprinting.

“Uh oh- hey! That wasnt what I meant!!” And he was sent racing after you.

By the time you made it to the camp, the Hilichurls had taken notice of you. All three of them standing up with some kind of weapon in hand. Your joyous laugh sent shivers down their spine, wobbly walk making them back up.

You were ‘scaring’ them.

“C’mere,” you cooed, arms wide. “I don’t bite.”

“Yes you do,” Venti mumbled once catching up to you. Too low for your ears to catch.

When the hilichurls didnt move, you whirled around to grab the vodka from his hand. A high percentage of course, Venti couldnt get drunk on normal wine or too low of a vodka. With a squeak of surprise, he reached for the bottle.

But it was too late.

You’d throw the bottle right at the hilichurls, who dashed away right at that moment. They abandoned camp and sprinted towards the meadow to find some refuge in the trees.

But that wasnt the end of the chaos.

Oh no, the bottle just ‘had’ to spill its contents onto the grass. And well, knock over a torch light stand while it was at it, which meant what? Fire.

“Its burning!”

“Oh dear…”

Venti pulled you away from the camp, sending a gust of wind to pick up the remainder of whatever was burning and put it out. “What am I gonna do with you…” he whispered in a groan. You happily skipped alongside him, giggling at his remark. “My little menace.”

He made a mental note not to bring you to the tavern again.

Side note - No Hilichurls were harmed during the raid-

Ayaka

“‘I’m saving her.”’

Hanging on a tree just beside the Kamisato residency, you and Thoma crouched on a single branch, tipping from side to side to regain balance before falling. That wasn’t the main issue, because just beside you was Ayaka, trapped in a burning building as she frantically tried to put the fire out.

“I’m her bodyguard,” Thoma beside you seethed, pushing you lightly to get you to move. “Therefore its my jobs to protect her, move.”

You shoved back, “And she’s the girl I love, got an issue with that?” You stuck your tongue out, “Or maybe you’re just ‘jealous’, wanna play hero and get her to fall in love? Too bad, you know we’re a thing, get over it.”

“Do you ‘want’ me to hurt you?”

“No thanks, save that for your new girlfriend and your bsdm kinks.”

“HEY- I DONT HAVE-”

But you’d already jumped, grabbing with both hands onto the window ledge and hoisting yourself up. The smoke hit you, burning your eyes and making your nose scrunch up in distaste. If this was your first reaction- how was Ayaka?!

You looked around, spotting the girl trying to put out the fire. It wasnt a big one, in fact it was just the cooking stove and a tinge of the carpet was on actual fire. The rest was just too much smoke, and a coughing Ayaka spilling water over everything.

Racing over, you began stomping on the flames of the carpet. Noticing you, she put her attention on the stove, and the two of you managed to clear away all the fire in no time.

It was when she put her hand over her mouth to cough that you realized you needed to get her out of there. Picking her up with ease, you cradled her in your arms as you dashed to the window. You didnt want to know what the rest of the house, and if there was any more fire, Thoma could put it out right?

Unfortunately for you, that wasnt even your main worry as you made it to the window. Water had somehow made it just below the windowsill, and instead of jumping out with precision, you slipped you with Ayaka in your arms, screaming out in surprise.

So you did all you could do, tuck her in your arms with your back to the ground and hoped you didnt die.

“‘Umph’- holy you’re heavy.”

You weren’t dead but…

‘Being in Thoma’s arms is worse.’

His face said the same, so he dropped you and instead held Ayaka in his arms. You watched as his face morphed into one of worry and compassion, “Princess- are you alright?”

“I was the one who caught her!” You blurted from your position on the ground, stumbling up to stand.

“And I caught both of you,” he corrected, flashing her a grin before giving you a look of distaste. “By accident, it was by pure luck that you happened to be holding onto her.”

You flashed him the middle finger, “Well your jobs done, saved the day, now fuck off.”

“‘You’ fuck off.”

“You have no reason to be here.”

“And leave Ayaka with an incapable fool? How did you slip out of a ‘window?’”

“Water you dumbass, now let go of her before I beat the shit out of you-“

“Ha- I’d like to see you try.”

Meanwhile, Ayaka rest cradled against Thoma’s chest, a look that your bickering was getting to her, and that she was seriously getting ticked off.

“Can you both just ‘shut up?’”

Scaramouche

Everything was ‘burning.’

Scarlet flames licking the wooden planks, crackling as splintered logs came crashing down and silenced by the background screams. Chaos strewn from side to side, a contrast from the normal pace of your footsteps, the calm collected look on your face.

“That was fun,” you simply stated to the boy beside you, squeezing his hand. “We should do it again some other time.”

He squeezed your hand back, a gesture far beyond him. However, he didnt reply, just walking alongside you with your hands interlocked and casually walking away from the crime scene.

Side note - you could really tell I got hit by writers block on the last one ;-;

[keilemlucent]

mean to me

( r18+)

hawks | takami keigo x reader

ao3

word count: ~3.5k

daddy’s a bit mean

warnings: daddy kink, light bdsm in terms of dynamics, use of a safeword, spanking, light degradation, choking, a smidge of age play, subspace, aftercare 

...

oh, more daddy kink brain rot? nice. have a little snack, loves 💕enjoy!!

...

Keigo owned you, passively and completely. 

His hands settled on your hips far too easily, like they were made to lay along the curves of flesh. There might as well have been imprints of his slender fingers with the way they squeezed and held you as often as they did. You weren’t made in your shape for him, but rather he worked you into whatever form he wished. 

You loved every moment of it, love him.

Sat up in his lap with Keigo was upright as well, his wings remained tense and flattened against the headboard. They twitched every so often as your cunt fluttered around his cock, but his resolve remained firm and he remained largely still. 

“K-Keigo, please—“ Your voice wobbled as your fingernails dug into his shoulder.

He quieted you with a slap to your thigh.

“You can’t expect me to give in if you don’t even speak to me proper, right, little bird?” Keigo was obviously being harsh, this was a ‘punishment’ after all. Though, in many ways, it was more of a test of will for the both of you.

Keigo showed his own exertion and restraint on every facet of him. 

His muscles were bunched, poised and more than ready to pound you into oblivion (If only you’d been good that evening, but you hadn’t, hence why you were in the situation that you were).

His expression was desperate, but still so fucking smug. The quirk in his swear-coated brow spoke volumes about how smitten he was to keep you wanting and warm around his cock.

“You’re mean,” You tried to spit, but it left you as more of a whine. 

“Am I?” Keigo raised an eyebrow, tapping your cheek with a single finger, “I think you’ve earned this treatment.”

You definitely did, but you wouldn’t admit that to him.

Your thoughts had wandered all throughout the day to him, and it was only natural that you sent him at least a dozen very whorish photos of yourself in the new, big mirror Keigo had purchased for the two of you.

(Specifically for ‘fucking’ reason, but once again, besides the point.)

You sort of did deserve to be teased. The pictures were meant to work him up, but you hardly expected the treatment you were receiving. 

There was a wordless, nagging ledge in the back of your skull that kept you from finding a more comfortable, softened headspace, leading to any number of slipups.

Namely, referring to Keigo by his name and not the title he loved to brandish. 

“I’m sorry—“You started to say before Keigo moved his slender finger to your lips, slipping the digit into your mouth and pressing down on the flat of your tongue.

He went far enough back to gag you, tears welling at the corners of your eyes.

“‘I’m sorry’,” He mimicked, rolling his eyes before giving your cheek a few forceful pats. “Not gonna cut it. Apologies need to be genuine.”

He rubbed just below your eyes, smearing away any wetness and giving you a sinful grin, “You can’t just be a crybaby and expect me to give in. That’s not how this works.”

Sometimes, it did, notably. Keigo would crack on plenty of days if you got weepy, the reason didn’t matter too much. He only liked seeing you hurt if he had full control of the situation and could drag you back easily.

Your tears only egging on his insults. You tried to ignore the burning in your nose, sucking down any potential cries welling up in your throat.

You must’ve looked pitiful.

And Keigo must’ve loved it.

He was clearly in a particularly nasty mood, a bit more vindictive than a normal night.  Less softened and crueler.

A normal punishment would’ve been pulling you over his knee for a tender lesson that involved turning your ass hot and red. Maybe a bit of writing lines, a dash of extra chores (in that sinfully short and ruffled apron Keigo purchased for you) while he supervised and directed you as needed.

He’d never simply sat you on his cock and refused to move or let you move.

It felt a bit odd in your gut. 

If your mind had fallen deeper, you would’ve enjoyed this more. If your psyche had been floating as you both liked, his cruel words would’ve felt so fucking good, but at this point, you felt nothing but burning shame as you tried to hold yourself together beneath his words. 

Keigo noticed to some degree. He was so tuned to you and your body and expression, he could write a damn novel on the way each angle of your lips and crinkle of your eyes meant a different complex emotion.

And you had no doubt he could see you struggling with this punishment more than normal. 

You shifted your knees, trying to ease the ache of your burning thighs. It earned you a hard slap to your ass, one with enough force that Keigo had to brace your waist to keep you upright. 

“Behave,“ He warned, pulling his fingers from your lips to smear spit on your inner thighs, close enough to your pussy to make your breath hitch. 

You should’ve known not to try and defend yourself, “I wasn’t gonna—” 

“Nope, stop whining,” Keigo gave your thighs a series of sharp pinches and twists. “None of that, you aren’t getting shit.”

Keigo was being mean. 

So mean, it made your chest hurt.

Maybe you were slipping deeper, maybe not to the right place, as your head fell forward to his shoulder, a little weak attempt at hiding your budding, fatter tears. 

“P-please be nice,” Your whispered, hardly audible. “Please.”

Keigo clicked his tongue, slapping your already reddened ass, “Do you think you deserve me being ‘nice’?”

“I—“

You didn’t get a chance to answer as Keigo delivered a quick succession of spanks, all of which had you tensing around his cock and clutching at him and the headboard. Little cries and wails slipped from your slip-slicked lips, all falling on what you assumed were unhearing ears.

“You don’t deserve anything but this, little bird,” Keigo hummed. He punctuated his words with another stroke. “You just love being a little cocktease, isn’t this what you wanted? Sitting on my dick and having your fill?”

No, this wasn’t. You thought the handful of pictures you sent him, draped in one of his own shirts, would get you ponded into the mattress, not held on his cock without a hint of agency or kindness. 

Tears leaked from your eyes, even as you tried to wipe them away as fast as you could manage. 

His hand reared back, poised for another spank—

And you hurriedly gave him two firm and clear taps to his shoulder, “S-sunset, sunset.”

He froze mid-motion. 

“D-daddy, I’m s-sorry,“ You clung to his shoulder and rocked yourself. “It doesn’t f-feel good.”

You felt him take a few measured breaths, hand returning to your hips to press into any knots he could find. The deep inhales were surely meant to calm him from his own high. 

His entire mood shifted nearly instantly. Keigo jolted to rub at your lower back, up and down your spine. 

“No need to be sorry, dove,” He whispered, pressing a few kisses to the side of your head. “I’ve got you. Do you want to lay down?”

You shook your head, laying your hands over his, pressing them into your hips more firmly.

Keigo sweetened, even more, expression creasing with concern, “Can you tell me what doesn’t feel good?” 

“U-um,” You swallowed, withdrawing from the safety of his neck to meet his gaze. His pretty ambers were sharp, watchful, and immediately tender as they met your own. You licked your lips nervously, trying to find proper words, “Doesn’t feel... normal.”

“Does something hurt?” Keigo inquired, tucking some sweat-matted hair behind your ears. He dropped a few kisses around your face, stilling your both as was needed. 

You shook your head. 

“Not the right headspace?” Keigo asked, catching on quickly and speaking softly. 

You nodded, pressing your nose to his cheek, “Uh-huh.”

Keigo knew you better than you knew yourself in moments like this.

“I see why you didn’t appreciate me being so mean,” Keigo clicked his tongue, smoothing a hand over your naked waist.  “I’m sorry, little bird. Do you want to stop, or do you want me to help you?”

You thought for a moment, worrying your bottom lip.

“Can you h-help, daddy?” You kept your words as soft as you could. “I-I’ll be good this time, promise.” 

Keigo practically purred, content either way, but happy to help you settle. This was as much for you as it was for him. 

“You’re already good,” He shifted beneath you, some of his own bound up tension releasing, “Of course, little bird. I’ve got you now.”

There was an unspoken apology in words, one that was felt a moment later, as he pressed his lips to your, cupping your jaw with tender hands.

His thumbs wiped away any residual tears as you pressed closer, burying your hands in his hair. His feathers shifted and rippled nearby, his cock twitching inside you. 

“You hold on good to me, okay?” He murmured against your lips, holding you close as you massaged through his blonde waves. “Nice and tight, perfect.”

You nodded as if you’d ever let go.

Carefully, he repositioned the two of you. Your shaking thighs were given rest as he tipped you onto your back, helping you flatten atop the sheets. His cock remained buried, still hard, and somehow, Keigo’s will to not rail you remained intact.

It was surprising, given how impulsive he was so often was.

Then again, Keigo liked doing this, liked holding you close and tender while stroking the part of your mind that needed to feel smaller, weaker, and taken care of well and thoroughly. In turn, you held the part of his mind that desperately couldn’t stop taking care of others, that self-sacrificial nature that needed an outlet that was healthier than throwing himself at the evils of the world without pause. 

In the cultivated home you two had made, you cared for each other how the other needed.

“Here’s what I’m thinking,” Keigo hummed, hovering over you, splaying your legs out with wide palms. “You’re gonna listen really well, and I’ll let you have my cock like I’m sure you want, understand?”

You nodded, trying to muster up some self-confidence.

Keigo looked smitten with himself once more, though his features and poise were slack and gentle. Any of his earlier meanness had dissolved, tucked away for another night where you both could handle it.  

He nosed against your cheek, dragging his lips across your jaw to the shell of your ear. His hand drifted over your navel, higher to tease your yummy and then to your tits, twisting a nipple before he delicately laid his fingers, one by one, around your throat.

He gave a preliminary squeeze, watching your reaction. 

You swallowed around his hold, taking a shaking breath at the pressure.

“Does this feel nice, little bird?” 

“Uh-huh,” You nodded, his hold tightening a moment later. 

“Good, perfect,” Keigo grinned against your skin and nipped at your ear. “You’re doing so well.”

The simple praise made you shudder.

Keigo pressed his lips to your own, holding around your throat firmly and unwavering, throat, applying pressure just right to make your head spin.

The moment he pulled away, eyes shining, he let up.

You took sucked in a quick inhale, just before he kissed you again, repeating the pattern. Mounting, delicious pressure on your throat with each kiss, with just a moment or two or reprieve that he gave you.

It sank you perfectly. 

He kept at it, dragging you to arch underneath him with just kisses and tongue, pulling your breath from you with his hands and his own quiet groans.

If you tried to chase his lips, he easily pushed you back into the sheets, bearing down on you with the weight of his chest, wings fluffing up and fluttering. A quick nip or two had you lax into the mattress within moments.  

It was all so perfectly enough, your head spinning with each of his touches. 

And finally, he pulled away, both of your lips kiss-bitten and pupils wide and black.

“There we go,” He stroked the side of your face, kissing down your neck to your collarbones. “A little bit mean, a little bit nice. You did so well— such a good girl.“

The praise made your cunt tense, fingers curling at the base of his wings. 

Keigo looked equally as content as you. He wanted to see you slip and puddle beneath him. As much as he still had a mean streak for the day, he could channel it elsewhere, pepper it in as needed. Not teasing you at all would be sin. 

“C-can I have your cock now?” You asked, voice high and sweet. Your gaze was reverence itself, all for him.

Keigo chuckled, rolling his hips just the /slightest/ bit, “You’ve got it already, greedy girl.”

Your frowned, eyes already growing wet, “That’s not w-what I mean.”

“That’s too bad,” Keigo sighed, rubbing little circles along your hips. “Guess this is all you’re getting.”

“N-no!” Your voice almost broke as you tried to tug him closer. “I want you to be fuck me, p-please, I’ll do whatever you ask!” 

“You should already be doing that,” Keigo snorted, stilling any movement. “I don’t know if you really want it.”

Of course, he knew how much you craved him, he could see it in every twitch and desperate whimper that got caught in the back on the back of your tongue. 

“I do!“ You tried to move your hips against his own, but he held them flat and steady.  “Please, please, please—“

Keigo paused, tilting his head slowly and regarding you with pensive eyes. 

You reached out for his wrist, pulling it to your lips to lay gentle kiss after kiss over the skin. The touch, no matter the setting, always had him shuddering. Keigo was a whore for many things, but genuine, heartfelt affection was reliably near the top of the list.

Still— 

“Bribery?” He snorted. “Cute.” 

You were getting desperate. Tears started to leak from you once more, sobs held themselves in the back of your throat. The stretch of your cunt had started to burn. The lack of touch anywhere near your sex made you so needy, it hurt.

“D-daddy, please—!”

And you started babbling. 

It was Keigo’s favorite thing to see you so desperate and wanting that you lost the ability to have coherent thought beyond wanting him in the rawest and unbridled way.

Your words were dribble. Pleads and begging that your floating little mind drew up without pause. Details and filth that he’d coaxed from you so well, he couldn’t help but be burningly proud. Each word was so shameless, it made Keigo’s his split into a cocky smile. 

Losing yourself beneath him, good and proper. And you hadn’t even been fucked yet. 

“There we go,” Keigo hummed, groaning as he fucked into you once, hard and deep to where the top of his cock brushed against your deepest parts. “Let go for me, little bird. Daddy’s got you.”

And he did—

And you knew it. 

And so with the next slam of his cock into your cunt, you let your eyes roll back into your head and be enveloped by sensation. Heat buried in your yummy, slick dripping from his cock, sticky the skin that was shared between the two of you.

You both dissolved into the other.

Keigo didn’t hold back, all of that pent up stress and anger projected into the cant of his hips, the grip that bruised your hips, and the way his wings arched and stretched to the ceiling. 

He muttered to you and himself, cursing with each thrust about how much he ‘deserved to have your tight little cunt—his tight cunt however he wanted’. About how your body and all its curves and features were ‘his, only his’ and he could fuck you in and fuck you up in whatever way he pleased.

Each dripped word pushed you hotter and hotter. 

You drowned so pleasantly in his words as your peak snuck to hit you hard and fast.

You were so pleasantly high on him and his words and body, you didn’t notice his hand slipping between your bodies, hiking your legs over his shoulder in one motion, and circling and tugging on your clit the next.

Keigo might have commanded you to come, you couldn’t tell. The moment he gave your clit the slightest cruel twist, sweet pain igniting, your vision went white and you wailed.

Your nails dug into the base of Keigo’s wings, pushing him over the edge in the same breath as you. He cursed, loud and breaking as his arms collapsed on either side of your head.

He didn’t fuck you through his own orgasm, just pressed the tip of his cock to your womb and circled your clit as you twitched and cried, all for him.

And things stilled.

Your legs were lowered, your gooey mind understood. You pawed at the wetness on your face, a mix of tears and dripped sweat between the two of you.

As Keigo slipped out of you, after so long, you hissed, cunt sore and thighs aching.

“H-hurts,” You murmured, tugging Keigo closer, though he’d hardly gone ar. 

Keigo hushed you, stealing a kiss or two before rolling sideways onto the sticky sheets, tugging you to his chest.

His hand slipped between your legs, pushing a bit of leaking cum back into your sore cunt, as he so often did after stuffing you so full. Kindly, he rubbed at your thighs, any of his earlier snark gone.

“Does this feel better?” He smiled into your hair, you could feel it. 

You made a noise of affirmation, all you could muster, and leaned into Keigo, properly sated. 

Your eyes went half-lidded, exhaustion and euphoria holding you equally. After the teasing and torture you’d endured on Keigo’s cock, you imagined you’d be walking oddly for at least a day, and sore for a few more. 

You frowned, Keigo beaming you a smug smile and tugging you closer, “Something wrong, little bird.”

“D-daddy,” You huffed, patting his chest weakly. “You were so mean!”

“And you,” Keigo tapped the tip of your nose, “did a perfect job at telling me it was too much and didn’t feel good. I’m so proud, you do so good for me.”

Part of you wanted to be a brat with him, puff and sulk a bit more, but you couldn’t muster up the will. Keigo knew that praise made you the sweetest and happiest you could be and consider how he had struck a few nerves, enough to make you light-safeword, you deserved it all.

You grumbled in the back of your throat and buried your face in his chest.

“Will a nice massage and a warm shower make it up to you?” Keigo asked, the pads of his fingers flitting down your spine, less for comfort and more for looking for any visible bruises or scratches. 

“Almost,” You sniffled. “Can we watch a m-movie too? I can make tea.”

“That’s a given, we can snuggle all night, little bird, I’d like that very much,” Keigo sighed with his own contentment. “And I’ll make tea too.”

You let out your own trail of high laughter as Keigo peppered kisses wherever he could, heaping you with sweetness as his wings, still trembling from orgasm, fluttered with his happiness. 

“I can pick you out a nice, comfy outfit—  maybe those cute, toasty stockings you like so much,” Keigo knew how to stroke the most melted and small parts of your mind, so well. You fell into his offer and kisses with a smile.

“Your favorite stockings? The knit ones?” You teased, nipping at his jaw, and letting your own touch drift and linger around the tender flesh where the base of his wings met the muscles around his spine.

(Keigo wouldn’t admit it to many, but they ached most days. His body, though trained immaculately, wasn’t truly meant to bear the weight it did.)

(But, you were happy to lift some his own burdens.”

You massaged the flesh, touch firm even through Keigo’s initial arch and startled jolt. 

“Can I rub some of that oil on these too?” You murmured, tangling your sweaty legs together. “You’ve been working too hard lately, daddy. They’ve gotta hurt.”

“Hm,” Keigo cupped your jaw, drawing your face away to nuzzle your noses together, something warm and so precious, you only saw it in his most comfortable moments. “Aren’t I supposed to be taking care of you?”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t help,” You wanted to, you liked to, and you liked seeing daddy— Keigo, relax after scenes, sessions, and long days. “Please?”

“Of course, dove,” Keigo’s eyes crinkled at the corners, with a smile all for the two of you. “Let’s lay for a little longer, alright?”

His touch, honeyed and kind without a hint of teasing, drifted to the lowest part of your back, finding the roots of your tension and tending to them, as you tended to his. 

You were happy to tangle with him, content and intertwined. 

 ||||||||||

thank you for reading!! 💕

ko-fi 

[q-gorgeous]

Another Micro-Management Rewrite

Prompt: Micro-management AU where Dash finds out about Danny and insists on helping the trio out from now on. This does not go as badly as any of them had thought it would.   (PR214) @charcoalhawk

Wordcount: 2415

ao3

ffn

how many times can i rewrite that one micromanagement scene

They had just gotten the door closed, shutting it in Skulker’s face. They could hear him hit the other side. 

“C’mon!” Phantom said, waving Dash towards the window. “We have to get to the Ops Center!”

Together they climbed up Fenton’s dresser, pulling themselves up over the open drawers to the top. They ran over to the window. Phantom looked out and around for somewhere to go when Skulker was already flying up towards them from the ground. 

“Shit!” Phantom said. “He was fast!” He looked around again and saw an open bag of chips. He pulled them towards the window.

As he dumped the bag of chips on Skulker’s head, Dash watched as another white ring formed around Phantom’s waist. He had only expected it to be another slight alteration to Phantom’s outfit, but this time his whole appearance changed. 

When the rings disappeared, Danny Fenton looked up and met Dash’s gaze with wide, fear filled eyes. Suddenly, Skulker was making noises outside the window again and Danny’s expression transitioned back into the steely expression that Phantom had been wearing a moment ago. 

“We gotta go.” Danny said, looking up. “We can climb this wire up to the Ops Center.” 

Dash was still staring at him in disbelief. “You’re Phantom?” He whispered. 

Danny was already climbing up the wire. “Now is not the time, Dash! We need to go!”

Dash followed behind Danny, climbing up the wire. It waved in the wind and all he could think about was falling and the boy he was following. He couldn’t believe it. 

Danny stopped climbing once they reached a ledge. He started swinging his legs and then he jumped, landing on the ledge next to the window. Dash jumped after him but he hit the edge of the ledge. He started falling backwards. He squeezed his eyes shut, preparing to fall, but then he felt a hand grab his. 

“I gotcha!” 

Dash opened his eyes to see small, weak Danny Fenton struggling to hold him up by the hand. 

“One, two, three!” 

Danny lifted him up and over the edge. Dash stood there catching his breath, hands on his knees as he watched Danny try to lift the window on his own.

“A little help over here!”

Dash ran over and together they opened the window. They jumped in and onto a table inside the Ops Center. Danny looked around the room for a minute before pointing at a device sitting on the counter in the middle of the room. 

“There! That looks like the device. We gotta get over there.”

“And we can use that to climb up.” Dash pointed at a slice of pizza that had melted cheese hanging off all the way to the floor. 

Skulker crashed through another window and started shooting at them. They made their way down the table and across the room and started climbing up the cheese. They got to the top, Danny climbing over first and then helping Dash the rest of the way up. After that Danny started running towards the barrel of the gun.

“Where are you going?” Dash asked. 

“I need to get big again so I get my ghost powers back.” Danny stepped inside the barrel. “I need you to flip the switch to uncram and push the trigger!”

Dash stepped back a step before turning around and running halfway down the weapon. He struggled to flip the switch in the other direction and he could hear Skulker mocking Danny at the other end of the counter. He finally got the switch flipped and he ran over and rammed his body into the trigger button. He backed away and he watched as Danny grew bigger, transforming back into Phantom. 

Danny flicked Skulker into the freezer, shutting the door on him. He turned back to face Dash, picking up the device and shooting him with it. Dash shut his eyes and when he peeked one open again, he was his regular size and sitting on the counter.

“Ha! Way to go, dude. I knew I could count on you.” Dash said.

“Thanks, that makes one of us. I was pretty worried about not having my powers.” Danny’s brows drew down and he looked away from Dash. “Look. About what happened today, would you be able to not say-”

“I wanna help you fight ghosts!” Dash burst out.

Danny looked up at him. “What?”

“Can I help you fight ghosts?” Dash asked. “You’re always doing so much for us and you never get a break. I want to help.”

Danny shook his head. “No, it’s too dangerous.”

“But what about your friends? Manson and Foley help you fight ghosts all the time. Your sister too.”

“Sam and Tucker have been in this with me since the beginning. They know what they’re doing.” Danny shot back. “And ever since Jazz learned my secret she’s taken it upon herself to learn everything she can about each of my parent’s new weapons.” 

“But-”

“No. It’s too dangerous.” Danny interrupts Dash when he opens his mouth again, picking him up and phasing them through the Ops Center. He flies them to the street and places Dash on the ground. 

“Look.” Dash stared at his feet. “I want to make up for everything I’ve done. I want to help.”

“If you really want to help, then stay out of the way where you can’t get hurt.”

And with that, Dash watched Danny fly away. 

Dash stuck his hands in his pockets and started walking away. 

He could help. He knows he can. Maybe he’d just start with something small. Something that wouldn’t get him in trouble with Danny. 

Yeah, maybe that could work. 

QQQQQ

For a couple days after Dash learned Danny’s secret, Dash just watched and observed Danny. Learned his tells for when a ghost would be attacking. He always knew that somehow Danny leaving the classroom was always followed by a ghost attack, but he never knew how or why. Now that he’s paying attention, he can see that Danny gasps out a breath of cold air before coming up with an excuse to leave the classroom. 

That day when Dash saw Danny do it again, immediately he groaned and raised his hand.

“Yes, Mr. Baxter?” Lancer asked. 

“I have a stomach ache. Can Danny walk me to the nurses office?” 

Lancer squinted at him. “Why does Mr. Fenton need to accompany you to the nurses office for a stomach ache?”

Dash groaned harder. “I hate meatloaf Wednesdays.”

Lancer made a face at that. “Alright, Mr. Fenton. Please help Dash to the nurses office.”

Dash stood up, holding his stomach while Danny rolled his eyes. They walked out of the classroom together and when they were far enough from the classroom Danny shot him a look.

“I know what you’re doing.” He hissed at Dash.

“It got you out of another detention though, didn’t it?” Dash asked. 

Danny made a face as he thought about it. He looked away from Dash without saying anything.

“Look-” Dash started.

“I don’t need your help.” Danny said. “I was doing just fine on my own.”

They stopped beside a janitor closet, Danny’s hand resting on the door knob.

“But-”

Danny opened the door before Dash could finish talking, closing it behind him. When Dash opened the door again a moment later, Danny was already gone. 

The next day they were both in their math class together. Danny sat behind him and he heard it when he gasped out another breath of cold air. Dash turned around in his seat and looked at Danny for a minute, slapping a piece of paper and a book down on his desk before raising his hand.

“Yes, Dash?”

“Danny finished his homework already. Can he return my library book for me while I finish my homework? I just remembered that it was due two days ago.”

“Danny finished his homework?” The teacher started walking towards them. 

“Yes, Mr. Falluca.” Dash picked up the sheet of paper that he just slapped onto Danny’s desk. “Here it is.”

Mr. Falluca hummed. “Well done, Danny. I’m glad you’re using your time wisely today. Yes, you can return Mr. Baxter’s book for him.” Mr. Falluca walked back to the front of the classroom.

Danny gave Dash another look when the teacher walked away, but he begrudgingly picked up the book and walked out of the classroom with it.

Dash smiled. He didn’t care how unhappy Danny looked about it, but he was actually helping the other boy.

By next week, Dash and Danny had their own system going on. Danny would let out a gasp, and they’d make eye contact as they figured out how they were gonna get him out of the classroom this time. He was beginning to understand why Danny just ran out of the classroom everytime he had to go fight a ghost. Dash was running out of excuses.

Behind Danny, Dash saw a small trash bin sitting on the floor. He nodded at it until Danny looked at the trash can and back at Dash, confusion on his face.

Dash started pretending to heave and Danny’s eyes opened wide. 

“Lancer!” Dash shouted. “I think I’m gonna puke!”

“Lord of the flies!” Lancer’s hands flew to his head.

Dash pretended to heave again while Danny reached over and grabbed the trash bin. As Danny shoved it under his face, Dash made the grossest throwing up sounds he could muster. When he looked back at Lancer he licked his lips. Lancer looked like he was ready to gag himself.

“Can Danny help me to the nurses office?” Dash asked.

“Of course!” Lancer shouted, making shooing motions at them. “Just take the bin before the classroom starts to stink.”

Dash stood up, clutching the bin to his stomach while Danny followed behind him. 

“You should’ve seen the look on Lancer’s face when he thought you were throwing up. It was great.” Danny laughed. 

“Not sure how I feel about the class thinking I threw up in front of them. It’d be really embarrassing if that was for real.”

Danny laughed at that before it tapered off and he looked at Dash. “Thanks though. It’s been nice not getting detention almost every single day because I have to go off and fight ghosts.”

“You’re welcome.” Dash held a hand up for a fist bump. Danny looked at it for a moment before bumping his own fist against Dash’s. They had made it to the janitor’s closet. He opened the door.

“Thanks again.” He stepped inside and closed the door. 

QQQQQ

Dash is walking out of the school when he hears Danny and his friends talking together. 

“Dash helping out isn’t going as bad as I thought it would.” Danny said. “I haven’t had detention in like two weeks now. It’s like he has some kind of football star powers that make it so the teachers don’t question anything he says.”

“Yeah, that is pretty cool.” Sam says. “But are you sure you really want to ask him to help with anything else?”

“Yeah, dude.” Tucker folds his arms. “Coming up with excuses to give to teachers that don’t question anything you do in the first place isn’t that impressive to me. How do we know he’d be able to handle helping in a ghost attack?”

“You guys-”

The sudden pickup of wind interrupts Danny and all the students standing outside the school look up at the quickly darkening sky. Dash doesn’t recognize this ghost, but based on the expressions of the trio, this is someone they’ve encountered before. Sam and Tucker are shoving Danny into the bushes behind them and Dash sees that flash of light before Phantom is flying out and into the sky. 

Danny starts fighting the ghost and Sam and Tucker start fighting it from the ground, pulling out their own weapons and shooting at it. Dash watches as they distract the ghost so Danny can land heavier hits on it while it’s distracted. This continues for a bit, the ghost looking like it’s getting tired. 

Suddenly, it’s getting one good hit in on Danny and then it shoots an ectoblast towards Sam. 

Dash’s eyes widen and without thinking he runs over and puts himself in between Sam and the ectoblast. It hits him square in the ribs and he stumbles backwards, trying not to fall on top of her. 

“Fuck.” Danny shouts, flying over to Dash after landing one more hit on the ghost. Sam runs out from behind Dash, still shooting at the ghost. He crumples to the ground. 

Danny grabs onto Dash’s shoulders and shakes him. Dash lays there for a few moments, idly listening as he hears Sam and Tucker weapons hitting the ghost and Danny’s thermos as they finally catch it. Danny shakes Dash again and he meets his eyes.

“You idiot.” Danny starts, frowning down at him. “Why did you do that? Sam and Tucker know how to avoid and take hits like those.”

Dash took a deep breath and touched his ribs. It didn’t feel like he was bleeding, but he’d definitely have one hell of a bruise. “Gotta… Make it up to you.” 

Danny shook his head. “Not like this. You don’t have to risk your safety to help me.”

Dash sat up a little. “You take hits like that all the time to protect us though.”

“Yeah but I have super healing, you don’t.”

“You have super healing?!” Dash exclaimed. 

Danny chuckled and held up a fist. “Don’t do that again. Please.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t.” Dash bumped his fist against Danny’s. “Hurt like a bitch.”

“You took it much better than Tucker did when he got hit by his first ectoblast.” Sam said.

“Hey!” Tucker said. “We didn’t even know Danny could do that yet! It’s not my fault I wasn’t prepared to get hit by one!”

Danny rolled his eyes at his friends. “Okay, come on. We should get some ice on that.”

Sam held up one of her hands, making a face at him.

“Oh yeah.” Danny placed his hand on Dash’s ribs, his ice powers cooling him down and helping to lessen the pain. 

“Will you guys teach me how to fight ghosts now? I heard you talking about it.”

Danny blushed and chuckled nervously. “Sure. I guess we have to now if you’re gonna start jumping into battles on your own.” 

Dash smiled up at him. 

“So when does training start?”

[ragingbookdragon]

It's Who We Are Underneath That Defines Us

Kyle Rayner x Batsis One-Shot

Word Count: 1.9K Warnings: Explicit Language, Slight Angst

Author's Note: Really gotta make the story where the Batfamily learns she and GL are dating. Enjoy! -Thorne

**********************************************************************

“Hey babe?”

She hummed absentmindedly, her eyes still trained to the stars above. “Yeah, Kyle?” Fingers twitched against her palm, then laced with her own; a heartbeat pounded against her skin, like a pulsing speaker, causing her to look over at him. “Is everything alright?”

Evergreen eyes met hers and he murmured, “Do you ever think about what life would be like if you weren’t a superhero?”

She blinked, the question giving her a slight pause. Leaning closer, she propped her chin in his shoulder and teased, “Thinking about how you could’ve had an apple pie and picket fence life, Kyle?”

A grin crossed his lips and he glanced over at her. “To be honest with you, (Y/N), I’m more of a cherry pie kinda man.” His gaze dropped, and his eyes roamed her body. “Blame Warrant on that one.” She rolled her eyes, but the laugh she gave him showed her amusement. Kyle paused, his gaze searching her face. “But back to my original question...what do you think you’d be doing if you weren’t a vigilante?”

(Y/N) inhaled deeply, rolling away from his shoulder and laid on her back, her eyes scanning the immense field of stars above them. “I don’t know, honestly. I’ve never really given it much thought.” Raising her hand, she traced the scars across her expanse of her arm with her eyes. “I’ve been training to be a vigilante since I was ten years old...helping people is all I’ve ever really wanted to do with life.”

She looked back over at him. “But since you asked, if I wasn’t a vigilante, I’d probably be a stuck-up rich bitch who overcharges her dad’s credit cards and throws hissy fits when she gets told no.” Kyle snorted, and she giggled.

After a moment of silence, he looked to her and asked, “Would you ever change anything you’ve done?”

The question he’d given her had been one she’s asked herself so many times. What if’s rising to the tongue of a girl too afraid to choose a path other than that of the least resistance, but ultimately keeping them contained and taking the hardest ones anyway. (Y/N) bit her lip slightly, the memories of every mistake, every wrong choice, flashing behind her eyes like lightning in a storm. The fingers laced though hers squeezed gently, dragging her from them, and she glanced back over, her eyes tracing the wisps of hair at his temples that had fallen from the gel he’d put in it earlier.

She blinked, then gave him a smile, her voice soft as she replied, “No...I don’t think I would change a single thing.”

Kyle’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion and he questioned, “Why not? Hasn’t there been a time where you’ve screwed up monumentally and couldn’t change it?”

(Y/N) watched him carefully, the words toying with the tip of her tongue as she asked calmly, “Are you talking about what happened to Alex?”

His face momentarily darkened, a mixture of anger, hate, and self-loathing, then it fell, and she saw the pain and regret in his eyes and heard it in his voice as he muttered, “I’m talking about everything that I’ve done wrong.” He sat up, resting his elbows on his knees, the heel of his tennis shoes scraping against the brick of the roof. He let out a heavy sigh, causing her heart to tighten, and she rose beside him, curling her arm through his.

They stared at the city across the water, then she murmured, “When I was sixteen, I accidentally shoved someone over a support beam during a fight.” He eyed her, silently wondering what had happened and just what the hell this had to do with his issues. “Didn't mean to, of course. But he grabbed me from behind, and I did what I'd been trained to do—react. I freed myself and made the distance between us. But I misjudged the force of my kick and he tumbled over and down about a hundred feet onto concrete.”

She paused, thumb rubbing the back of his hand. “When my family and friends saw what I’d done, even if it were an accident, a lot of them decided to keep me at an arm's length. ‘She might kill again’, they said, ‘If she’s killed once, she’ll do it again...there’s no way we can trust her anymore.’ Eventually, I stopped patrolling with the Titans and Teen Titans. Hell, I even stopped helping the Justice League. I did my own thing by myself because no one trusted me anymore. ‘Til this day, there are some people within the superhero community who shun me and don’t trust me. And at every meeting, somehow, someway, it's always brought up.”

(Y/N) looked over at him, squeezing his hand again. “Wherever I go, whatever I do, that follows me. It’s never going to be let go, and it’s certainly never going to be forgotten. However, despite those problems and feelings, and what occurred in the past, that accident doesn't define meor my actions. Yes, I unintentionally took someone’s life, but I’m not a murderer. I carry that burden with me, and I always will and while I can't change what happened, it drives me to make sure that I don't make the same mistake again.”

She let go of his hand, slipping her legs on either side of his body, her hands coming up to cup his cheeks; she caressed his cheekbones with her thumbs, staring into his eyes, and mustered the sincerest voice she could. “Kyle, what you’ve gone through, the people you’ve lost, the people you’ve saved, and the friends you’ve gathered along the way? That’s not who you are...it’s what you do with it that defines who you are.” His eyes widened slightly, and his lips parted to speak, but no words fell from them.

(Y/N) gave him a warm smile and leaned forward, pressing her lips against his forehead; she pulled back and murmured, “It may not mean much, but I'm proud of you, Kyle. You make me proud every single day.” She watched him exhale shakily, and she swore she could see the damn inside him breaking as he lowered his head, his arms reaching to pull her against him.

She shifted, perching in his lap, and let him bury his face in her neck. Kyle let out a breath, but it felt more like a soft sob, and heat blossomed against her skin where his lips touched.

He let out a sound, crossing between a groan and grunt as he told her, “I love you, (Y/N).”

She hummed, wrapping her arms around his neck, her lips brushing his temple. “I love you too, Kyle.”

They stayed that way for a few minutes, simply holding the other. Providing the anchors needed to keep their spirits alive. Eventually, (Y/N) pulled back and dragged his face away from her neck, huffing a laugh when he whined lowly from the loss of contact.

She reached up and wiped his face. “You look like a kid who was told no to ice-cream before dinner.”

Kyle let out a chuckle, moving her hands away and rubbing at his face vigorously. She climbed out of his lap and sat beside him once more, and he looked over at her wondering, “How do you manage to stay so positive outside the mask? To be the same person in costume and out?”

(Y/N) went silent, thinking for a moment, then she said, “A few years ago, I asked my dad the same thing, and he told me, ‘It doesn't matter who we are underneath the costume or out in the real world...it’s what we do in or out that defines us. If the person you claim to be isn’t the same person inside and outside of uniform, you don’t need to be wearing it.’” She glanced back over at him, nudging him in the ribs. “Don't worry about it though, you’re still a dork inside and out of G.L.”

Kyle let out an amused scoff, placing a hand against his chest. “I can't believe you would insult your boyfriend like that. A dork? I’m hurt.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes, looking back at the city. “Kyle, you doodle in the middle of J.L. meetings, and it’s usually caricatures of my dad strangling Hal, the Joker, Jason, or Dick…typically it depends on what’s going on during the meetings and who’s been a pain in his ass for it.”

He opened his mouth to retort, but shut it, then raised a pointer finger at her. “Alright, you have me there.”

(Y/N) looked over at him, raising an eyebrow. “Of course I have you there, Dork Lantern...” She gave him a grin, wiggling her eyebrows and quipped, “I sit and doodle with you.” The two of them laughed, and she rested her head on his shoulder, letting out a sigh. “I could stay with you here forever.”

Kyle nodded, wrapping an arm around her waist. “Me too.”

A moment of silence passed them, and as they were enjoying it, a voice called out, “Oi! Kyle! Queenie! Are you guys up there!”

She let out a groan, rubbing the bridge of her nose. “So help me God, I can’t enjoy anything without dumb and dumber sticking their noses into it.”

Kyle looked over at her, his eyebrows furrowing as he pointed out, “But there’s only one?”

(Y/N) raised a hand in a ‘wait’ motion, then she waved it and, “Of course they’re up there Little-wing. The roof is where all the teens go to make out.”

Her eye twitched, and she leaned over the ledge, shouting, “The only person who’s made out on the roof is you, Dick. And it was with Kori after you guys broke up...AGAIN.”

A scoff sounded below followed by, “Hit me where it hurts why don't you!” She rolled her eyes, huffing, then he asked, “Is Kyle up there with you?”

“And what’s it to you?”

“Just wanted to make sure you guys are acting appropriate.”

“Dick...I am older than you. Kyle and I are both older than you.”

“So?”

(Y/N) turned to Kyle and mouthed, ‘Wanna get out of here?’ He flashed her a grin, then a strike of green blinded her, and he stood before her in his Green Lantern suit. He held out his hand. A beam of green light surrounded them, and a moment later, (Y/N) felt herself drop into a seat. She looked around, a grin appearing on her lips as she ran her hand along the dash of the constructed car.

“Kyle, are you trying to woo me with my love of nice cars?”

He matched her grin, laying his unoccupied arm across the seats. “I don't know...is it working?”

She nodded, sliding over into his side. “Yes. It is.” He chuckled, and they started moving, leaving her two brothers yelling for them.

“Kyle! Are you letting (Y/N) ride in the Green Machine?! You never let me do that!”

“(Y/N)’s my girlfriend, Jason!”

“I’M YOUR FUCKING BEST FRIEND! WHAT EVEN!”

She leaned across Kyle, glaring at Dick and Jason. “Go do something productive with your time, losers.”

“I am hurt, Jellybean! I thought you loved me!”

“Only when I can get something out of it!” (Y/N) glanced at Kyle and grinned. “Hit the gas G.L. Don't let ‘em catch the taillights.” He smirked, and they waved as they left Wayne Manor behind them.

[imissjoongsmullet]

My Prince (6 - final)

Pairing: Minghao x reader

Genre: fluff/(angst)

Summary: Life is not exactly easy being the royal gardeners’ daughter but at least it’s simple. When you’re suddenly called upon to serve as the prince’s personal servant, things get a little more than complicated, especially considering the secret history you and the prince share.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Warnings: general angstiness, a bit of a slow burn, very romantic, very soft, the fact that this will most likely become a long series cause I have no chill

Word Count: 6.5K

Author’s Note:

This final chapter finally fulfills the premise that this is in fact fluff. I promise I’m done breaking your hearts now, woohoo!

My Prince has grown so near and dear to my heart. I don’t usually write long fanfics so this was really quite special. I know I might sound overly dramatic or corny to some of you (and that’s okay). It’s just, I try to be intentional with everything I do. That’s why I wanted to do this right. That’s why I’ve gotten so attached. That’s why it’s taken me forever to finish as well probably haha!

This story is far from perfect. There are countless things that I would have liked to sculpt out more... but I think for that to have happened this would have to become a full on novel and that’s not what this was ever meant to be, so I’ve got to let go of those thoughts and just send it out into the world as it is.

In any case, I sincerely hope you’ve enjoyed reading this story as much as I’ve enjoyed writing it. As always, please let me know what you think. As a writer, any type of feedback makes my heart flutter~

Thank you for all the love and support ♥

►

You fell to the floor, your shriek buried in the chaos that surrounded you. There was so much noise so suddenly and none of it sounded good. Panicked, you raised your head to see the entrance to the room had been broken wide open and soldiers in silver and black attire were pouring in, brandishing swords, fire and crossbows. Yientan. Another cry left your lips as you scrambled backwards until you hit the wall behind you. They were here. They must have found out about the wedding and wanted to stop it before a legend could take away their power.

Strong hands grabbed you by the collar and you screamed out for help. You struggled in your attempt to pry the stranger off of you until you noticed the face that belonged to it.

“Come on!” Minghao ordered, dragging you up. He took your hand and set off at a sprint, leaving behind the bulk of the commotion. You could hear banging and screaming from other directions as well though. They must have the whole castle surrounded. Luckily Minghao knew all the secret, little passages attackers tended to overlook. It didn’t take long for you to realize where he was taking you. Before you could come to your senses, you were dragged through the heavy doors to Minghao’s private chambers and sat onto his bed.

“Stay here,” he said, kneeling at your side, clasping your palms in your lap, “don’t leave until it’s all over.” He got up and turned to leave.

“Wait!” you called, stopping him midway, “you can’t go out there!”

“I have to,” he replied stone faced.

“No!” Now it was you holding onto him. “Please don’t—” Your fingers dug into his robes with desperation.

“I have a responsibility,” he said, “I have to go—”

“Then I’m coming too,” you cut in but he shook his head.

“You can’t help,” he explained, “I can so I’m going.” He eyed you sternly for a few more seconds before softening. He sighed, brushing his hand over your cheek lovingly and finally saying, “do not follow me.”

“Hao, please,” you called as he pulled away. You ran to him just in time to keep him from shutting the door behind him entirely. Only a sliver of his face was visible in the gap.

“Stay safe,” he said, before vanishing.

In stunned silence you let the doors fall shut. You walked over to the bed and sat down because your legs felt shaky and your head dizzyingly light. Outside, the uproar continued to grow but Minghao had told you to stay. Your heart ached. It pulled and tugged at you, trying to get you to move but you couldn’t. You didn’t want to disappoint him. Your fingers wrapped around one of the silk pillows on his bed. Closing your eyes, you hugged the thing close. It was all you could do not to cry. You just wanted everything to be okay— for everything to go back to normal. But you supposed none of Minghao’s life had ever really been normal.

A loud crashing sound made you jump. Some large piece of glass must have just shattered somewhere. You got up from the bed and began to pace the room. You clamped your hands over your ears in a miserable attempt to shut out the madness. Shutting your eyes didn’t help either. The itch to do something was growing unbearable. When a few minutes later a crack so deep it was like walls crumbling made the wooden floor tremble, you decided that enough was enough.

Head in overdrive, you went for the window. Its balcony was wide and looked out over the east side of the gardens. Tonight, there were only balls of fire within the dark. With a sickening lurch, you thought of your parents. Had they managed to hide or escape? Or had the attackers set flame to their house while they slept, trapping them in an excruciating death? Panicking, you went for the balcony ledge. Once your feet found balance, you grabbed onto the ornate pillars and started to climb. The plan seemed insane and yet, somehow you felt like the adventurous prince had definitely made this climb before. With that information fueling your confidence, you made it onto the roof above the prince’s chambers.

From here, you could see most of the castle and its grounds. A landscape of hills and valleys lay before you in the form of various curved rooftops. It would have been quite beautiful if it hadn’t been for the screams and the fire. You didn’t know what you were doing, really. You just wanted to know everything was going to be alright. Besides, you’d never forgive yourself if something happened to Minghao while you hid away like a coward.

How many people were fighting down there? How much of a chance did they stand against Yientan? And what could Minghao possibly do in all this? You didn’t even know if he knew how to fight.

Hunching down to a crouch, you made your way toward the center part of the castle. You looked down wherever you could, trying to get a feel of the situation. You saw two servant girls running on a deck as they cried. You saw men fighting in little courtyards, blood staining their clothes. You saw the wooden walkway towards the prince’s library collapse in flames. All of this roused an anger in you that surprised you. You’d never been the bravest of people— you still weren’t. But something was taking over you. It didn’t matter that this castle had been the bane of your existence for the past few months. The castle was under attack and you felt it as you’d feel an attack on your own family. You jumped from roof to roof, wracking your brain over a way to help.

Something sharp whooshed past you and you gasped. You were just in time to turn around and see the Yientan soldier standing on a nearby rooftop, reaching for another arrow. You ducked away towards a lower part of the roof, suddenly feeling the sharp sting on your cheek. There were hurried footsteps behind you and you were running out of options. Your rooftopped landscape came to an end as you happened upon the center courtyard of the castle, where more soldiers fought.

Hoping fiercely you weren’t making the wrong decision, you jumped.

The landing was harsh and you failed to stifle the noise that fought to come out your mouth. A man dressed in silver and black turned your way.

Wasting no time, hopped onto the deck and dashed into the nearest corridor, running as fast as you could in your clumsy servant’s robes. You were disoriented and scared but also determent to outrun the soldier. The long hallways of the castle once again felt like a devious maze, trying to suffocate you. You turned a corner and half-fell-half-jumped down a narrow flight of stairs. Ignoring the sting in your left leg, you rushed along a half open deck, ducked under a low archway that lead you down to the underbelly of the castle. Here, it was pitch black except for the spaced out torch light that hung from the walls. Luckily, you knew where you were going. This lowest level of the castle was used for storage and servant work deemed too dirty to be looked upon by the masters. You took a right through a small door, finding yourself in one of the washrooms the servants used. Just as the soldier’s feet hit the wood floor behind you, you opened one of the closets and grabbed as many fresh sheets as you possibly could, throwing them over him. You watched him struggle for only the fraction of a second before escaping through a side door. You knew exactly where to hide.

You reached your destination within a minute, lowering yourself into a little crawlspace underneath the floorboards of the broom closet servants used to hide from Tou Ma when she was angry. You’d only have to wait a few minutes for the soldier to give up and leave and then you’d be safe. You were about to close up the floorboards when you heard the most dreadful sound in the world.

It was Minghao. He was screaming.

Without a second thought, you burst back into the corridor. You followed the echo of the scream in your mind. It wasn’t far off. It was right here, under the castle. You tried every door, finding deserted room after deserted room, wondering why Minghao was even here, hidden away from all the commotion.

Aside from the soldier that had followed you down, you hadn’t seen a single person down this low. Perhaps you’d imagined it, you thought, just as you slid through another open door you knew lead to the pantry.

The most shocking thing was not that Minghao was there; it was that the emperor of Namin was there too.

Minghao was knelt over his father’s form, shuddering slightly.

“Hao,” you whispered as you approached, an awkward feeling settling in your stomach. Something was very wrong. Tentatively, you knelt down beside the prince, gasping when you saw the blood. Panicked, you looked down, now noticing the dark trail on the floorboards.

“What— what happened?” you stammered. Minghao hadn’t acknowledged you yet. He was doubled over, tears falling down onto his father’s chest.

“Don’t leave me.” His voice was so thick with emotion the words were barely audible.

You knew the emperor wouldn’t reply.

“Please, father,” Minghao whimpered.

You’d never seen him like this; torn apart like an old book. Afraid of making things worse, you sat by and waited. The war outside didn’t matter now. You allowed his sobs to turn to quiet slowly.

When they had, Minghao straightened his back and looked at you. His face was red and blotchy. The pain in his eyes made you want to wrap your heart around him.

“He got shot,” he said at last. His hand reached out for yours and you took it, surprised at the tightness of his fingers around you.

“I found him back in the celebration hall I— I didn’t know what to do. I just knew I couldn’t let Yientan have him so I tried to find a place to hide him but by the time I got here he was barely breathing and—” fresh tears burned in his eyes, “he just— I can’t do this without him I can’t—”

“Hao— ” you started just as a creak in the floorboards made you both jump.

Over a dozen people shuffled into the room, each person looking more perplexed than the next at the sight of Minghao and the emperor. You blinked in surprise at the appearances of the Zhong family, a bit battered and stunned-looking but otherwise fine. Last to enter the room was Tou Ma. Her face paint had smudged, there was blood at her temple and her robe was ripped at the sleeve.

“Stay back, girls,” she said with a voice just as stern as ever before coming over. Her face turned grim the moment she got on her knees and took in the sight. Her eyes widened, her nostrils flared and her thin lips parted. She took a few moments to regain her calm. Gently, she flattened out a crinkle in her robe as she cleared her voice at last.

“My prince,” she spoke solemnly, “from the heart of Namin, I offer my deepest condolences.”

Minghao continued to stare down at his father’s chest.

“Tomorrow we mourn the end of the era— tonight—” she paused, her wrinkles tugging into a frown, “tonight lies in your hands.”

The words hung in the dusty storage room air, settling over the people within it, slowly, like bits of falling snow.

“My prince?” Tou Ma said and her voice was softer than you’d ever heard it.

Minghao hadn’t moved an inch. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking either.

Strands of messed up hair hung in front of his face as he looked down at the emperor. You knew Minghao understood what Tou Ma had implied. Now that the emperor was dead, Minghao was automatically in charge. It was time for him to fulfill his prophecy and become the legend he was destined to be. Except that Tou Ma hadn’t said it like that exactly. She’d left the decision up to him. Tonight lies in your hands. Somehow, you felt like the head servant understood the pressure that weighed on the prince. She’d left the course of action open so that, should he choose to do so, Minghao could hide away with the rest of the castle’s residents. Should he choose to do so, he could surrender to Yientan. It was up to Minghao to decide his fate, not some legend assigned at birth.

Finally, Minghao looked up at Tou Ma.

“My mother,” he said, “is she safe?”

“Of course, my prince,” Tou Ma replied at once, “she was my first priority. I sent her through the royal passage behind the west room tapestry before bringing others to safety. She must have reached the safe house by now.”

Minghao nodded. “Thank you.” He sat there, thinking for a few more seconds before he stood up.

“I’m going out there. Everyone else stay here.” His voice was monotone, matter-of-fact. “I have to speak to the emperor of Yientan and put a stop to this.”

No one spoke as he turned to leave the room. Even you were too shocked to speak. It was only after he’d left the room that you found the strength to move.

“Silly girl,” Tou Ma said, her voice sharp once more as she grabbed hold of your wrist, “this is the last time I tell you to stay away from him.”

You looked the head servant dead in the eye.

“Then this will be the last time I defy you,” you answered, breaking free from her grasp and running out of the room.

You caught up with Minghao halfway up the stairs. You tugged at his sleeve and called his name, softly, inquiringly. He looked back at you, looking apologetic.

“I’d never forgive myself if anything happened to you,” he said quietly, “you’re already hurt.” His eyes went to your cheek, where the sting of the arrow still lingered.

You sighed. “And I wouldn’t forgive myself if anything happened to you.” You took his hand. “Hao, please,” you went on, “whatever happens, let’s do it together.”

Slowly, a smile formed on the new emperor’s lips. It failed to erase the pain in his reddened eyes but rather coated them in a temporary haze. His fingers tightened around yours and he whispered, “okay.”

*

“Where are we going?” you asked as you tiptoed through the castle, slipping from shadow to shadow.

“I know where he is,” Minghao replied.

You knew he was talking about the emperor of Yientan. You had no idea what he looked like but you’d overheard plenty of conversations about him during your time in the castle. He was a fierce ruler and a strong man of combat.

“Wait, you’re not going to fight him, are you?”

“No,” he replied, “I’m going to talk to him.”

The throne room looked smaller than usual. A pillar had fallen, dust and debris littered the usually shiny hardwood and on the golden throne sat, not Xu Yilan, but a younger-looking man. He was broad-shouldered and his dark hair fell in a single braid down to his waist. His black and silver armor was still spotless aside from the couple droplets of red that had splashed onto his chest. You almost couldn’t believe he was an emperor and not a war general. Xu Yilan had surely never fought like this. Judging by the tenacity in his eyes, he was enjoying this. Upon noticing Minghao he raised himself from the throne, eyes narrowing.

“Emperor Wu,” Minghao spoke up as he walked to the center of the room.

You decided to stay in the shadows for now. It was better for the Yientan leader not to know a second person was in the room.

“My father, Xu Yilan, is dead by your men’s hands.”

You had no idea how Minghao was keeping his emotions at bay but it was clearly a good thing. The man on the platform drew back, his eyes going wide.

“You,” he said in a gravely voice, “you are Xu Minghao?” He spoke loud and clear but was unable to hide his uneasiness. It was in the way he stood, overly square, and in the stark way his eyes stared ahead.

“I am,” Minghao said, “and I want you to listen to me for a moment.”

Silence. This was good. 

“I do not want to fight you,” he went on, “I just want to talk. I want to restore the balance between Namin and Yientan.” He took a deep breath. “I want Yientan to give us back the highlands.”

A low yet booming laughter filled the empty throne room.

“You expect us to just give you back the highlands?” the emperor scoffed, “and what will Yientan receive in return?”

You watched Minghao as a silence trickled into the air. He was completely still, his mind probably racing like a warhorse.

“In return,” he said at last, his voice deep yet clear, “Yientan will be spared the dragon’s wrath.”

You could see the fear spring into the emperor’s eyes.

“You lie, young man,” he said, though it was obvious Minghao’s words had derailed him a bit. Slowly, the man unsheathed a long sword and pointed it at Minghao.

“There is no dragon,” he spat, starting to walk down the platform, “where is your dragon now, huh? Did it come when our people charged your gates? No, it did not.”

Minghao’s chest heaved but he stood his ground. You couldn’t understand how he stayed so calm. He had nothing to defend himself with.

“Did it come when your father was struck down by one of my men?” emperor Wu continued as he approached, “it did not.”

This was all wrong, you thought, panic taking over you.

“Up on the roof of this broken palace, a golden dragon stands, yes,” the emperor said, a wicked smile spreading onto his lips. He was getting too close.

“It is nothing but a symbol of wealth, a meaningless decoration!”

Minghao stood as a statue, defiant.

“It could not save your father, nor your people,” he grinned, “and it surely won’t save you.”

“Stop!” you screamed, breaking away from your hiding spot. Both men turned their heads in surprise, a moment you took to jump in between them, arms out, shielding Minghao from his attacker.

“Don’t hurt him, please!” you cried. You knew you were making foolish decisions but there wasn’t a single cell in your body capable of doing anything else in that moment.

Pain shot through your arm as general Wu grabbed hold of you.

“No!” Minghao yelled, immediately jumping for the general’s second arm in an attempt to tear the sword from his grasp. Your head spun as you were tugged around, the three of you in an awkward tangle until you heard a gasp that could only be Minghao’s. You watched him fall to the floor, clutching his side, where the fabric of his shirt started to color red.

You wanted to scream but before any sound had the chance to leave your lips, the whole room began to shake.

Emperor Wu backed towards the wall, dragging you with him and that’s when you heard it. An ear-piercing cry coming from somewhere up above. The ceiling cracked and gave away right where Minghao crouched. You cried out his name in a desperate attempt to save him when you realized the falling debris wasn’t crushing him. Instead, it turned to dust mid-fall, scattering over the floor like sand on a windy day.

Emperor Wu gave a startled shriek behind you. A massive creature burst through the broken ceiling with another deafening cry. It looked like a giant, glimmering snake with horns. Its fanged mouth was the size of two grown men and its golden scales reflected the devastation in the room. It curled itself around Minhao, who was still on hands and knees on the floor, obscuring him from view. “It— it’s— it can’t be!” the man behind you stuttered, shivering all over. You took the opportunity to yank yourself from his grasp.

The dragon let out a large huff and steam released from its dinner-plate-sized nostrils. You couldn’t help but feel a trickle of fear pulse through you as you approached the beast. But you had to trust.

The dragon’s body uncurled once more, revealing Minghao. He was standing; even more, he looked revitalized. A determent look had taken over his face. He stepped in front of the dragon and addressed the cowering emperor.

“As I said before,” he said, his voice strong and demanding now, “I don’t want to fight. I don’t want this war. Yientan and Namin can live in peace. Even better, we can make each other stronger.” He glanced at you and his eyes filled with warmth. “I know we are different but Namin will no longer fear those differences. It is by cooperating that we will learn and grow—”

The emperor scoffed. “And to achieve this peace of yours,” he grumbled, “I assume you want the highlands back?”

“They belong to Namin,” Minhao replied calmly.

“And what’s next?” emperor Wu went on, his pitch rising, “you’ll invade us with your big dragon protector and we’ll have to give up everything?!”

“No.” Minghao shook his head. “Namin doesn’t need any more. Just the highlands and harmony with Yientan. If you promise me these things, emperor Wu, this dragon will never be used for violence. It too can be a symbol of peace.”

The emperor of Yientan stood there, fighting a fight within himself. All you could do was wait. Minghao didn’t look scared anymore though. The dragon had taken his fear. The cold mask had vanished as well, leaving his eyes exactly the way you remembered them from years ago; kind, curious, inviting. Years of pressure had fallen off of his shoulders, allowing him to stand up straight and confident.

His gaze went to you for a moment and he reached out his hand.

Heart swelling with joy, you took it, feeling more than ever before, like you belonged.

Emperor Wu observed all of this with pain in his eyes. You still had no idea what the man was thinking but you felt safer now, so close to Minghao.

“Alright,” he said finally, starting to walk towards you, “you win, little emperor.” He shook his head in defeat. “You’ve still got a lot to learn about ruling and, mark my words, you will regret the things you’ve said today— all this talk about peace and harmony—” he stopped just a couple feet away from Minghao, “but at least for now, Yientan will bow to Namin.” He bent over into a ninety degree bow and Minghao let show just the tiniest smile. He was proud— and he should have been. You squeezed into his hand and felt him squeeze back when, all of a sudden, a lot of things happened.

Emperor Wu raised himself, drawing from a loop in his belt a tiny dagger and driving it into Minghao’s chest. At the same time, the dragon behind you let out a magnificent roar as it charged at Yientan’s emperor, knocking the breath right out of his lungs. All this time, you stood, frozen to the spot in complete and utter shock.

When you felt Minhao’s hand slip from yours, you cried out his name. You caught him as he staggered and the two of you landed with a soft thud on the floor. Panicked, your hands dove to his chest, looking for the stab wound as tears began to stream down your cheeks.

“Hey,” you heard someone say softly, vaguely but you didn’t have time now. You had to stop the bleeding.

Something took hold of your chin, lifting it. It was Minghao. He was smiling the sweetest smile and you didn’t understand.

“I’m okay,” he said, pulling aside his robes, revealing nothing but a light cut along his ribcage.

“Hao,” you sniffled as his thumb came to wipe away some of your tears.

“I’m okay,” he said again, nodding softly.

And so all the adrenaline fled your body. Without a second thought, you flung your arms around his neck and hugged him close. It was a hug such as you’d shared when you were children; one made of pure happiness. His arms wrapped around you, holding you close. You were still crying, sort of, but you were sure it was the good kind of crying.

A gentle hand landed on top of your head, patting it in a soothing manner. You took it all in, the feel of him, his scent, the way his heart beat against yours.

“Everything is gonna be alright now, right?” you mumbled into his chest.

You felt him sigh.

“I think so.”

*

The following days were some of the strangest of your entire life.

The emperor of Yientan wasn’t dead. The dragon had hit him pretty bad but it had ultimately left the decision up to Minghao. Minghao, who of course decided to have the foreign emperor nursed back to health by Namin’s finest doctors. He still believed that peace between the two lands was possible.

You and Minghao, along with all remaining castle staff, had temporarily moved into the castle gardens. Most of the garden staff huts had apparently been spared from the fight. It wasn’t spacious by any means, but it was enough for the time being.

Not that you didn’t have any other options.

News of the attack and especially the return of the dragon had spread like wildfire through the cities and towns of Namin. Wealthy traders and investors offered their own residences in honor of the new legendary emperor but Minghao had turned them all down. He said he wanted to help rebuild the castle.

“Besides, I don’t know if I’m ready to face them yet.” Minghao’s face was contemplative as you two sat overlooking the rose garden from a hilltop.

“What do you mean?” you asked.

He leaned back onto his hands. “I don’t know,” he said, “I’m not ready to be their legend, truly this time. How am I supposed to— after my father.” He shook his head. “I’m no better than him. He was just a man and so am I.” 

Up in the sky, the golden dragon trailed patterns in the afternoon clouds. It had fluttered around the gardens all day; a beacon of hope.

“I know I have a job to do but—” he said finally, “I still can’t help but feel like I’m losing something precious.”

You nodded, leaning your head onto his shoulder. “Things will be more complicated,” you admitted. It was true. You didn’t want to sugarcoat that for him. However, you weren’t worried.

“But you won’t be doing any of it alone.”

You could feel him start to smile as his arm slid around your shoulder.

“Thank you,” he said.

“Your majesty,” a tense voice said.

It was Tou Ma. You were surprised to find you were happy to see her.

“We have received word from your mother. She will be coming home in a few days. The Zhong family meanwhile have arrived home this morning. They are well.”

Minghao nodded, his face stony but a lot going on behind his eyes.

“Should I send word back?”

“No,” Minghao was quick to answer but then he caught himself, “I think I’ll write Zhong Mei and her parents a letter myself. They deserve that.” He was frowning to himself now. “And tell my mother I’m sorry— and can’t wait for her arrival.”

“I will,” Tou Ma said solemnly, her eyes trailing off. She was searching for words.

“What is it?” Minghao questioned.

Tou Ma pursed her lips.

“He is awake.”

*

You followed Minghao to one of the larger huts in the garden, where emperor Wu was being treated. The room was bare, save for a bed and a night stand upon which stood a bowl of water and a clean cloth. A middle-aged lady in simple blue robes stood by his bed. The moment she noticed Minghao, she fell into a deep bow.

“That’s alright,” Minghao said, taking her hands as she rose, “thank you for your amazing work.”

The woman went red in the face but smiled brightly back at him.

The emperor of Yientan still suffered a few bruises, one below his left eye. You couldn’t help but feel a bit uneasy around him so you watched Minghao approach from a distance.

“How are you feeling?” he asked the man in the bed.

Emperor Wu let out a heavy sigh as his eyes landed on Minghao.

“I’ve been better,” he said.

There was a silence you weren’t sure of the meaning of. Minghao seemed to be waiting.

“I’ve sat here for a while now, you know,” he went on, “been awake since sometime last night— in and out of it most likely— but I’ve been thinking.”

The man in the bed looked nothing like he had during the battle. He’d been full of fire then. Now, he had a depleted look about him.

“Do you know what I was thinking?”

Minghao shook his head softly.

To your surprise, the emperor of Yientan let out a chuckle. Maybe he really had suffered brain damage after all.

“I was thinking, why am I in this comfortable bed?” he snickered lowly, “I thought I might have died. Thought it might be the afterlife. But then I was informed of your decision to let me live. To let me go.” His face went sad suddenly, brows furrowed. He looked almost silly.

“I realized I admire you, your majesty. You chose to spare the life of the man who invaded your land and took it for his own, the man responsible for your father’s death, the man that might have been responsible for your own death—” he let out another chuckle. “I thought you must be either mad or genius— I, um— I’m still not truly certain which one it is but I can say one thing for sure: you’ve got more bravery in that little body of yours than I’ve seen in any ruler of my lifetime. And I have no choice but to respect that.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Your hands were anxiously clutched in front of your chest.

“Thank you, your majesty,” Minghao said, his shoulders relaxing a bit.

Emperor Wu raised himself in the bed, took the cloth from the nightstand and wiped his face with it. When his face was revealed once more, he was smiling.

“Alright,” he said, looking up at Minghao, “let’s get this over with. Let’s talk.”

*

This is how Namin was restored. The highlands were returned and multiple treaties were formed between Namin and Yientan, promising peace and collaboration for all time to come.

Minghao hugged his mother close a few nights later, and a ceremony was held for the death of Xu Yilan. It was a sombre meeting in a nearby temple, the only other attendees aside from direct family the thousands of fireflies that lit up the air.

Then, finally, it was time to go public with everything that had happened. The coming of the legend emperor had to be celebrated and the people of Namin were not going to let that opportunity go to waste. Banners were raised, fireworks set off, as a magnificent parade made its way through the capital.

Throughout all this, you found yourself completely overwhelmed, not only because so much was happening at once, but also because Minghao wanted you to be a part of it all.

“Are you alright?” Minghao whispered into your ear.

You hardly knew how to respond to that. You were sitting in a luxurious golden carriage, wearing the most beautiful silk you’d ever laid eyes on. Layers of pale pinks and greens, adorned with gold thread fell from your shoulders. Your hair had been elegantly put together by Tou Ma herself that morning, with flowers and ribbons she’d handpicked for you. If all that wasn’t enough to make your heart do cartwheels, Minghao, the new emperor of Namin sat beside you, holding your hand while he waved at the people cheering. And there were a lot of people around you. It seemed as if all of Namin had come out to watch the procession. You weren’t as confident as Minghao, darting your hand up occasionally to wave at the public, only to change your mind the next second and put it back down.

“I’m terrified,” you replied, “ecstatic and overjoyed and terrified.”

“That sounds about right,” he said, grinning, “but don’t worry, we’ll be there soon.”

Surely enough, the procession halted in the main square of the capital. A tall platform had been put up in the center of it. As you’d expected, your carriage opened its doors right beside it. It was time for Minghao to give his speech. With one last smile in your direction he left for the platform. You watched him breath in and out, visibly shaking the nerves out of his body before he began.

“People of Namin,” he spoke loud and clear, “in the last week, a lot of things have happened and rumors have run rampant. I believe you all deserve to know exactly what has happened at the castle and what this means for the future of Namin.”

You looked in complete awe and adoration, as Minghao explained the events of the past weeks and even before that; the protests, the arrival of the Zhong family and their plans, the attack, death of Xu Yilan and finally, the legend of the dragon.

“It is true,” Minghao said, “the dragon lives once more.”

Just then, a bright glimmer fell all over the square and the people squinted upwards to see the golden dragon fly overhead.

“It will protect Namin for as long as I live and hopefully longer.”

The crowd erupted in jubilant cheers. Minghao took this opportunity to look back at you. You were suddenly highly aware of the ridiculously wide grin that had been plastered on your face ever since he’d begun his speech. He returned it gladly and, to your surprise, beckoned you to join him onto the platform.

Your eyes went the size of daisies as you vigorously shook your head at him. He only smiled kindly at you and turned back around as the commotion had died down mostly.

“My dear people, it has been a glorious day!” he yelled  “but I have one more announcement to make.”

This turned the whole crowd silent.

“Throughout the challenges of the past week I have had to be strong. In order for the dragon to arise, I’ve had to be strong. I’m the true leader, I’m Namin’s hope, I am a legend come to life— I’ve been hearing these types of statements all around and I would like to say that, while your praise is appreciated, I fear I’m not entirely deserving—”

“There’s a reason I’ve been able to be strong. There’s a reason I’ve been able to keep my head on the right track, there’s a reason I feel like I can be a worthy leader to you all and it is a reason entirely outside of myself.”

He turned back around to face you. Your face went hot when you realized he was actually coming down to fetch you. He took your hand, gave you the most loving smile and pulled you up.

Everything looked simultaneously tiny and overwhelming from up on the platform. Luckily you had Minghao holding onto your hand or you for sure would’ve fainted.

“I can be the leader I am because of this woman,” he said, “she has been the one thing that’s grounded me in all of this and if it hadn’t been for her, I’m not sure I’d be standing here making this speech today.”

Your heart was pounding out of control and you felt lightheaded. You were grateful when Minghao’s arm slid around your waist and steadied you.

“On this special day, we celebrate the resilience and rebirth of Namin,” Minghao stated confidently, “but I would also like to use this day to profess my undying love for the girl standing beside me.”

A sea of murmurs welled up from the crowd. Minghao came to face you again and suddenly, he looked less like an emperor and more like the boy you’d always known.

“I’ve always loved you,” he said quietly, “it’s always been you.” His hand came to hold your face gently. “I know the life I lead from now on will be full of challenges and responsibilities, it will be a life in the spotlight, maybe—” he sighed, “maybe nothing like the life you’d imagined for yourself but—” he was really searching for words now, his eyes darting in all directions until they finally landed back on yours.

“If you’ll have me, I would love for you to share that life with me.”

It was as if a collection of fireworks set off inside of you, shooting from the top of your head all the way down to your toes, setting you aflame. It was an overload of feelings. You didn’t even notice the tear trickling down your cheek until Minghao wiped it away.

“So, will you?” he asked, looking like he might collapse from nerves as well now.

The smile burst free from its own accord as the reality of the situation finally sank in.

“Yes, of course!” you let out and your arms flung themselves around Minghao’s neck.

Now the people of Namin were really cheering, their noise like drums in your head as you embraced Minghao. Even when you broke apart the cheering didn’t stop; it only grew wilder as Minghao pressed his lips to yours. 

In all your life you’d never thought this would be yours. Even as a child you’d known that Minghao, your playmate wasn’t to be wanted. He was different, above others, untouchable, and for years you’d struggled to come to terms with that grim fact. And yet here he was, in front of you and all of Namin, telling you he loved you. It was the beginning of a new era for Namin and it seemed that its residents were ready for change. And you were more than certain Minghao was the right person to lead the people with justice and, above all, love.

♥

[redorich]

It stays in the pit

TW: sparring, weapons, cuts, fighting, hallucinations, minor mention of blood, angst

Hey it’s Split again! Follow me maybe? @split-em I have a lot more oneshots like these coming!

I like attention so maybe drop a like if you enjoy this! It’s about Hermit!Tommy sparring False,, but with a twist!!

This actually has so many words my fingers hurt aaaaaaaaa

Hey uh idk how to do a read more,, maybe if you want you can do that again pleasey? Also I love your hermit Tommy stuff keep up the great work!

(redorich here, thank you for the food lol)

‘It stays in the pit.’

Simple words that mean oh, so much.

When you’re reminded of the horrible memories that come with those words WHILE fighting, they mean so much more.

.

The newest build on hermitcraft is an underground, boxing ring style pit. There are stairs leading into a giant room below ground level with audience benches, a storage room with every different kind of weapon and armour, and a boxing ring in the middle.

When False offered to spar Tommy, she suggested they could do it in the new build that had not yet had its first official match. What made it even better, was that this would be Tommy’s first actual match against False since he first came to the server. She has been training him for months, improving his fighting techniques and strategies. You could say he went under her wing, and now he was ready to spread his own. This was a ‘student duels master’ fight, and the hermits wanted to witness it. They wanted to see how much Tommy had improved.

Though they over exaggerated juuuust slightly, because that sparring suggestion turned into a three (3) round mini tournament, and every single hermit wanted to watch.

Annoyingly bright lights shine down on the otherwise dark, amazingly massive room. The adrenaline in the air is intoxicating; downright addicting. Voices yell loudly, people scream and shout while waving, cameras are out, and Iskall is taking bets by the entrance.

Tommy and False stand across from each other, a confident smirk on each of their faces. The handle of an iron sword is gripped tightly in their hands, and the hermits watching are on the edge of their seats already. Tension mixed with excitement crashes down in waves. It chokes Tommy, but also sends his blood pressure through the roof. He feels like his head is underwater, but he’s walking on clouds. Never in his life has he been so excited yet so scared.

But god, does he want to win.

He exhaled, practically bouncing back and fourth as he waited for the countdown. False’s stare made him break into a cold sweat, but he composed himself. ‘This wouldn’t have been such a big deal if we were alone,’ he thought ‘but this is way more exciting than just fighting on the ground.’

That’s when he heard it.

Tommy looked up. The mayor, Scar, sat higher than any hermit in a chair on a ledge like you’d find in those old time-y theatres. His smile was proud, and he arched with peaked interest. “Holy shit,” Tommy breathed out, glancing back to his opponent “the mayor..”

B-Dub’s voice could be heard shouting with glee. He clearly was just as pumped as the rest of the audience, and you could head the smile in his voice as he counted down through a megaphone.

“Remember, no hard feelings. This is for fun!”

The fighter’s eyes met. False gave him a nod, Tommy looked down at his sword.

“WE ALL GOOD?!”

Tommy was shaking, out of fear or adrenaline he couldn’t tell.

“READY!”

False took in the younger boy, all she could think of was how proud of him she was. Look how far he had came. He went from this quiet and kept to himself boy, to an amazing friend that was full of energy.

“STEADY!”

Impulse looked quite concerned. He didn’t think it would become this big of deal, the sparring offer. But here he sat, chewing on his nails, waiting for what would happen. The rate the energy here made his heart rate increase was higher than any amount of sports drink or red bull could ever manage.

“SET!”

Tommy laughed. He needed to release everything. So he laughed, and felt all his stress melt away. Right now, fight. Right now, focus. Fight like she taught you.

“GO!”

Instantly, the teenager made the first move. No hesitation and certainly no mercy was shown as he swung his sword quick as lightning. It collided with the wood of False’s shield and he was thrown back slightly. False used this to her advantage and advanced on him, slicing horizontally with a small shake of her head.

“FALSE!! GO FALSE!!”

“TOMMY, DODGE!”

Tommy ducked, barely missing the sharp blade, and decided to fake. He stepped forward, jerking the sword forward and waited for False’s shield to come down from it’s position in front of her face before the cold metal cut her shoulder. His next swing was parried, and False managed to make him stumble to the ground as their blades touched and they both pushed with all their might. Cheers rang out, but both fighters knew it wasn’t over.

“WHAT THE-“

“YOU’VE GOTTA BE KIDDING!”

“COME ON KID, LETS GO!”

He saw her raise her sword in the corner of his eye, and in an instant he rolled to the left. Successfully dodging the attack, Tommy quickly put an arrow in a crossbow and hit her..in the wrong arm. “Shit” he hissed. What would Technoblade think of that stupid mistake? False used the pause to take him by surprise and use her other arm to slash him in the thigh with her newly equipped iron axe.

“GET UP, GET UP!”

“COME ON DUDE, GET UP”

He couldn’t. He couldn’t stand. The boy raised one hand, and False stepped away with a smile. If this was anyone else, Tommy would’ve gotten angry. He would’ve cursed them out or spat on their shoe. But this was False, and he knew that smile was one of genuine happiness.

“THE WINNER OF ROUND ONE (1) IS FALSE!”

Screeches and ‘awws’ were muffled in Tommy’s ears by the sound of his heart. He panted, before a dopey grin found it’s way to his face. False helped the other stand, and Cleo was quick to administer healing potions to both of them. “Never let your guard down.” False advised. He could tell she wasn’t mad, but rather in the mood for a quick lesson.

Once the hermit’s noise had died down and the fighters were back in their corners, all healed to full health and full saturation, round two (2) began.

“READY!”

“I’m gonna beat ya, bitch” he swore in his now usual Tommy fashion. False shook her head and couldn’t bite back the chuckle that escaped her

“STEADY!”

“Stop swearing. And, in your dreams.”

“SET!”

“Lets turn this up then, yeah?”

“GO!”

It was different now, they both turned up the heat. They couldn’t help it, it was so much fun to spar and the hermits’ energy only made them feel better and more excited.

Tommy was first again, sprinting towards the older then jumping high with arms gripping an axe above his head. False held her shield up and ran, blocking his attack.

“OH MY GOD!”

“THIS IS NOTHING LIKE LAST TIME”

He slid back with a smirk and their blades collided again. False started running. Tommy loaded a crossbow and advanced, quickly dashing behind her and shooting her back. False hit the ground hard, but held up as she kicked forward and got back on her feet.

“YES! GO FALSE!”

“COME ON TOMMY, DONT TAKE THAT”

“TAKE HER DOWN!”

They ran together, Tommy swung, she dodged, she swung, he jumped out of the way. False blocked an incoming sword swing, but was shocked when she was jerked forward after a fish hook implanted itself in her shirt.

“WHAT??”

“WAIT WHAT”

He cried out, laughing the loudest he had in a long time, as he pulled False towards him with a fishing rod. He pinned her to the ground with his sword pointed to her neck. His grin spanned ear to ear.

“TOMMY!!! WOO LETS GOO!”

“THAT WAS AMAZING HOLY SHIT”

An uproar was heard, people were standing up and others stared in amazement. They totally forgot that was allowed, it seemed. False didn’t really think to use the fishing rod, she didn’t think Tommy would bother to either. But, Etho insisted on it anyway just in case. Same with the crossbow.

False raised a hand, accepting defeat. Tommy helped her up this time, his sweaty palm and bony fingers holding her hand that had knuckles white from her death grip on her sword. Impulse helped Cleo to pass them towels. The break started, and the two returned to their corners once again.

“TOMMY WINS ROUND 2 (2)!”

Tommy popped the cap off his water bottle and chugged it, gasping for breath. He had no idea how tired he was until now. His bones ached and his body screamed to stop, but he payed it no mind once again. He used the towel to wipe the sweat from his forehead. Cleo rubbed a healing potion onto his wounds. “You’re doing amazing, that fishing rod trick was awesome.”

“Thanks, Dream taught me it after I saw him use it in a manhunt.”

He stood back up, babbling on about how ‘all the women are going to be cheering me on when I win.’ False rolled her eyes “focus, Tommy. Women can wait.”

“WOMEN ARE IMPORTANT. I WOULD KNOW, IM A LESBIAN. WAIT, NO-“

“FINAL ROUND!!! THIS IS THE FINAL ROUND!”

Grian and Mumbo sat next to one another, the smaller of the two standing up with his hands on the rail in front of him as he cheered. He wanted to cheer for both, but he supposed for the sake of competition he had to pick a side, and decided he would support his newest friend Tommy. “LETS GOO! COME ON,, WOO!! GO TOMMY!!”

“READY!!”

“Tommy, I want you to know, no hard feelings, okay?” False looked at him. It wasn’t with pity, but friendship. Tommy nodded. “No matter what happens, it stays here.”

“STEADY!!!”

“It stays in the pit.” The moustached man mumbled, arms crossed and watching the two with peaked interest.

“What?” Grian questioned, sending a puzzled glance to the other hermit.

“It stays in the pit. Techno said it to me as a joke, he said it was something his friends said when he and Tommy duelled.” He explained, not taking his eyes off the boxing ring in the centre of the practically stadium-sized room.

“Oh..” Grian thought for a moment, before a smile formed on his face once again.

“SET!!!”

“IT STAYS IN THE PIT, TOMMY!!” He cheered, putting his fist in the air. He tried his hardest to make his voice heard, despite sitting a little ways away.

“What?” Tommy’s voice was small, and his eyes widened. His whole being stood still. Who was that? They didn’t..they didn’t just say..?

“IT STAYS IN THE PIT!!”

His eyes darted around the room, and suddenly the underground room seemed a lot smaller.

Tommy had never considered it a ‘pit.’ To him, it was a just a boxing ring that was below ground level slightly. It had no significance. He didn’t care what it was, he was just happy to have somewhere to fight.

But after hearing that, suddenly he was back in that dammed pit with his damned brother and his damned friends watching him

But after hearing that, suddenly False was no longer across from him

It was Technoblade

“GO GO GO!!!”

His iron sword dropped to the ground. “You killed Tubbo.” A look False had never seen before came across Tommy, and she didn’t know what to think. This wasn’t right.

All he could feel was pure rage. It fuelled his actions. The teen basically flew towards False at full speed. “What-“

“YOU KILLED TUBBO!” She was cut off as Tommy pinned her to the floor, “Tommy stop-“

“SHUT UP!” He spat violently, seeing nothing but red. His skinny hands clenched into fists as he threw punch after punch into her face.

“TOMMY!”

“HEY WHAT THE FUCK, GET HIM OFF”

“GET HIM OUT OF THE RING!” Scar ordered, his voice booming out over the crowds shocked gasps

“YOU BETRAYED POGTOPIA” He shouted, his voice loud and rough. This wasn’t Tommy. His eyes were cold and piercing, his face was flushed “YOU CALLED SCHLATT PRESIDENT, YOU SICK FUCK. YOU BETRAYED US!!” Big, salty tears ran down his cheeks as False’s wrists that attempted to block the punches were twisted. She screeched out in pain.

“ILL NEVER FORGIVE YOU!” Tommy knuckles bled, but he didn’t care. He wouldn’t stop, he couldn’t stop. All he ever wanted that day was to kill Technoblade. Techno had killed his best friend, and betrayed his own family. He deserved to die. “YOU BETRAYED ME AND WILBUR. I WANT TO KILL YOU!!”

Tommy’s arms were restrained by Etho and Doc. “LET ME GO, LET ME GO!” He trashed and kicked, blinded by anger and hurt. They exchanged horrified glances, and tried to calm him down. Nothing worked.

False was crying. Her eyes were already swelling up and she was just in the purest form of pain. Some hermits comforted her, while others dragged Tommy out of the ring and away from whatever the fuck just happened.

“TOMMY WHAT THE FUCK” he was screamed at by a couple people, while being shaken by the ones that could tell this wasn’t what it seemed.

“Stop it! Stop you’re making it worse! Let me through” Impulse pushed his way through the crowd, eyes widening as he saw the young boy snarling and pulling to get out of the two men’s grips. Tommy looked feral. “Stop crowding him!”

He knelt down and gently shook the other.

“Tommy, you’re in Hermitcraft. Okay? Grian’s here, Impulse is here, False is here. Technoblade is gone. Tubbo is okay. You’re safe, you’re in Hermitcraft.” He sighed with relief as Tommy came to, the anger in his eyes being replaced with tiredness and confusion.

“Wha..” Tommy went to grab his head, only to find his arms restrained. He panicked, “NO DREAM IM SORRY-“

“Calm down! Tommy you’re safe, you are restrained by Doc and Etho right now, okay? You tried to kill False.” Impulse explained

“I what?!” Tommy gasped, still trying to wiggle his way out. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Why would he ever want to kill False?! Last thing he could remember is that he was sparring, then someone shouted something about..

“..the pit.” His voice went quiet. Impulse nodded in understanding. “Technoblade”

“..yeah.” Tommy thought about what happened. He thought False was his brother. He..he tried to hurt False.

.

Back in the audience, Grian sat completely still, staring in shock. Mumbo had a hand clamped over his mouth. The smaller looked to his friend, scared. “Mumbo, Did..did Techno tell you why he duelled Tommy?” He shook his head

“No..but he said Tommy wasn’t happy Techno won. I thought he meant the dude was a sore loser..”

Grian and Tommy exhale in sync, their hearts beating fast and hard, trying to process everything.

“What the fuck did I just do”

—————

This has like,, 2 700 words kill meeee

Well I hope you enjoyed that, I accidentally hyperfixated on the idea of Tommy getting pit flashbacks after reading an ask about it so now it’s 3AM! I got this done in 2 hours!

Should I upload these to Ao3??? Let me know!

[lifeofkaze]

The Easter Dragon

Charlie Weasley x Reader

A/N: Happy Easter to all you lovely people!

Word Count: ~ 1.800 

With a sigh of relief, Charlie shut the door to his old room behind him and leaned against it for a moment. The Burrow was a madhouse today; all his brothers and his sister had arrived with their families to celebrate Easter with the Weasley grandparents. His parents loved their house being filled with the laughter of countless children once more, but Charlie was glad for the respite his old room provided him.

Everyone was here already, except for you. You weren’t scheduled to arrive until tomorrow, for the actual Easter celebrations. There had been some last minute emergency back at the dragon reserve that had demanded your immediate attention; under usual circumstances, Charlie would have stayed as well, but the circumstances were anything but usual this time.

He carefully placed his bag on his old bed and produced the giant chocolate egg he had secretly crafted in your kitchen back in Romania before he had left for England. His mother had told him how to do it; gifting each other chocolate eggs had been a tradition in the Weasley family since Charlie could remember.

He had given it his all; he had spent countless hours meticulously carving the scales out of the crimson coloured chocolate before he had sprinkled it with a fine layer of golden glitter to make it look like the egg of a Chinese Fireball; he knew they were your favourite breed.

Charlie brushed his old dragon miniatures on the desk to the side with his elbow before he delicately placed the dragon egg on the wooden surface. He lifted the top off and set it aside before he dug deep into the pocket of his trousers and pulled out the small red box containing your present and placed it in the middle of the lower half. He assembled both halves again, making sure the scales on the outside were aligning, and sealed the crack in the chocolate with a flick of his wand.

He observed his work with a self-satisfied grin before placing the egg in the wicker basket he had stuffed with hay and some smaller chocolate eggs and pushed it back under his bed until the time for its great appearance had come.

Relieved that this part of your surprise was finished, he left the room to go help Bill put up the garden decorations his mother had forced on him, whistling happily to himself. He was so caught up in his thoughts, he didn’t notice the two intrigued pairs of eyes watching him leaving his room from the shadow of the crooked staircase.

*

When he returned an hour later, he stopped dead in his tracks upon finding the door to his room standing slightly ajar. The colour drained from his freckled face as he frantically raked his mind for the memory of whether he had locked the door or not. He pushed it open and went straight for the hiding place of his special Easter basket. He crouched down on the floor to peek under the bed and found his worst fear confirmed; the basket was gone.

His heart pounded faster as the panic started to set in; he had to find the dragon egg again. He searched the whole floor for it, then the next one down, and the ground floor afterwards. He was just rummaging through the kitchen as the sound of crinkling paper and giggles reached his ears from the adjacent living room.

Charlie spun around and followed the laughter to find his nieces and nephews assembled in a circle on the carpet, surrounded by heaps of coloured wrapping paper, mouths smudged with chocolate. In the middle of the carnage sat his basket, the red dragon egg the last thing to survive the feast.

“Where did you get that?” he asked them with the sternest Uncle-Charlie-voice he could muster.

The little rascals froze on their spot as their eyes collectively darted to their scolding uncle.

Little Lily finally plucked up her courage to answer him. “The Easter Bunny brought us chocolate!” she stated defensively. “We were even sharing!”

Charlie stemmed his hands into his hips. “The Easter Bunny, huh? Does this,” he pointed to his chocolate dragon egg, “look like a regular Easter egg to you?”

They all shook their head. “No, Uncle Charlie,” muttered Hugo.

“That’s because it’s something special,” Charlie lowered his voice conspiratorially. “It belongs to the Easter Dragon.”

James crossed his arms in front of his chest critically. “The Easter Dragon?”

“Exactly,” Charlie crouched down next to them. “He lives in Romania and like proper dragons do, he guards his treasure until the time is right. And he wants you to give his egg back.”

James hummed and leaned over to his cousin Fred II without taking his eyes off Charlie. “Do we believe that, Freddie?”

The other boy shook his head. “Not at all, James.”

“Thought so.” With a sudden lunge forward he tackled Charlie, who immediately lost his balance and crashed to the ground. James wrestled Charlie’s wand from the waistband of his trousers and held it up triumphantly before leaping off his stunned uncle.

“Run!” he shouted to the other children. Fred grabbed the precious egg and lead the pack out into the garden in a full sprint, James hot on his heels.

Charlie cursed in Romanian and scrambled to his feet. He cursed again as he realised his wandless state and set off after them.

Although their legs were fundamentally shorter than his, they were surprisingly fast, he had to give them that.

He was chasing them through the garden and back into the house again. George had joined him as he had leapt over the fence of the chicken compound. “Why are we running?” he had shouted at Charlie with his unmistakable mischievous laugh, but Charlie had been too out of breath to answer.

They raced them through the kitchen and up the stairs to the top landing. Charlie thought they had them cornered there, but these kids were surprisingly resourceful. They had climbed out of the window and onto the roof one by one and were clambering down on the many nooks and ledges of the Burrow by the time Charlie had reached them.

He could hear Hermione hysterically screaming from outside as she saw Hugo dangling from the ancient drains, but by the time she had her wand out, he had already let go and landed safely in James’s arms.

Charlie dashed down the stairs again with newfound determination; if he managed to reach the porch before they did, he would be able to intercept them and get his treasure dragon egg back.

He skittered out of the patio door to see the kids already making their way off the porch in the direction of the fields unfolding behind their garden. Freddie was still carrying the egg under his arm.

As they passed Victoire, who was lounging in a sunchair at the end of the patio, flicking through the pages of a magazine, she stuck her foot out all of a sudden without even batting an eye. James, who had been running in front, stumbled and came crashing down on the floorboards; the other children were unable to stop their momentum and tripped over him, landing on top of each other in a cluster of arms and legs.

“That’s for ratting Teddy and me out earlier,” Victoire stated indignantly, got up and strutted off.

Charlie was finally able to catch up with them, this flanks burning from the lack of air. As Freddie scrambled to his feet rubbing his elbow, he was able to take in the amount of damage the fall had wreaked on what had been the focal point for his great surprise for you only an hour ago.

The crimson chocolate egg had crushed beneath the weight of his nieces and nephews, the shattered remains scattered all over the floor. Charlie’s eyes quickly scanned the area for the small box the egg had held; unseen by the children, it had rolled under Victoire’s sunchair. Before anyone else could get their hands on it, he quickly scooped it up.

“What in Godric’s name happened here?”

Charlie jumped at the familiar voice coming from behind him. He quickly got up off the floor and hid the box behind his back as he turned around to face you.

He smiled in what he hoped looked like a surprised and innocent way as you strode up the steps from the garden to place a quick kiss on his lips.

“What’re you doing here already, love?” he murmured against your lips. “I thought they needed you back at the reserve until tomorrow.”

You hummed as you smiled up at your oddly flustered looking boyfriend. “We were able to settle things quicker than we thought we would, so I caught an earlier portkey.” You eyed him up and down. “Is everything alright?”

He was spared an answer as the kids, who had disentangled themselves from one another, took note of who had just arrived.

“Auntie Y/N!” they screeched as the raced past Charlie and almost knocked you back down the steps into the grass.

You laughed and ruffled their hair. Lily hugged your waist tightly and exclaimed “Look at what we nicked from the Easter Dragon!” She was waving one of the bigger shards of the chocolate egg in your face.

Your eyes found Charlie’s as you smiled down at the girl; they were shining with the laughter mirrored on your face. “The Easter Dragon, huh? Now that’s a dragon I’d like to meet; do you want to tell me all about him?” You picked Lily up and made your way over to the big tree at the corner of the garden where the old swing Charlie and his siblings had played on when they were children was situated.

All the kids followed her without so much as another glance at their uncle. Only Lily stuck his tongue out to him over your shoulder.

Charlie smiled to himself at the sight of you surrounded by the youngest members of your family. He opened the box he had still held hidden behind his back until now to check its content. He sighed with relief upon seeing that the ring situated inside was unharmed.

“Do you think she noticed something?” Bill had walked up to him, leaning on the railing lining their porch and casting a quick glance at his younger brother.

Charlie snapped the box shut again and stuffed it deep into his pocket. “I don’t think so.”

“And what are you going to do now? Your plan seems pretty much ruined to me.”

Charlie shrugged it off. “Doesn’t matter,” he grinned, “the Easter Dragon always finds a way.”

[amphxtrite]

harry potter x reader

warnings: abuse, self harm, crying, choking and alcohol.

⚠️ tw: subjects may be upsetting ⚠️

summary: learning to grow from a broken past is the hardest thing, but luckily for you, you have someone to help you through everything.

word count: 1.3k

a/n: this is for the lovely @oldschoolkiddo mwah ily.

hope you enjoy!

———————————————————————————

Life is not kind to many, people break down, suffer and put up with so much in their lives, sometimes so much you wonder why life bothered to put you there anyway. From the moment you were conceived, your muggle mother didn’t want you, she was simply trying to get your father to stay with her and not go back to the world of magic.

It almost worked, but after you were born, your mother would throw fit after fit, neglecting you all together if your father should stay out a minute too late, or hitting you whenever he would do something wrong.

Because of the relationship he had to endure, your father drank himself to death, and when police officers knocked on your door to tell you your dad had died, your mother had given you the worst beating of your life, blaming all her problems on you, your father’s death on you, everything wrong in the world was your doing, and for a seven year old, it took quite the toll.

When you were eleven and you received your letter from Hogwarts your mom was more than happy to ship you off to the school of magic and never see your face again.

You couldn’t tell if she didn’t know you would need a place to stay during summer or if she didn’t care when she dropped you off at the train station, but you had a feeling she wouldn’t be there to pick you up when the weather was warm again.

You sigh and pick up your bags, finding your stop after a little wandering.

Hoping life would be better once your mother was out of your life, you entered Hogwarts with high hopes, but life seemed to say it didn’t want you to be happy yet.

During your first year you met a boy in fifth that absolutely swept you off your feet. He was tall, dashing and mature, he made your heart race and giggles leave your lips when he smiled at you.

When he started to flirt with you, you couldn’t see anything wrong with it. When he spoke to you, you felt so grown up, you couldn’t see the deceit in his eyes or the harm he could do.

He started to touch you a week or so after he asked you out, not even bothering to take you on a first date before inviting you to his dorm to lay with him. You didn’t understand what he was doing, why was he touching you all over and trying to kiss you. You did your best to keep him at bay, but one night, in your second year, he snapped.

He screamed at you for not letting him do what he wanted, he put his hand around your neck and pushed against your throat until you were clawing at his hand so he would let you go. Tears were streaming down your face and you pleaded with him until he finally let you go. He didn’t talk to you afterwards, but you were left crying to yourself every night thinking about your mother, his words, his grip around your neck and how you were better off dead.

You took your ex’s words to heart and decided you needed to be punished for disobeying him, you needed to be punished for all the things your mother blamed on you. So in the night when your roommates were asleep, you closed the curtains around your bed and pulled a small blade you had brought from the muggle world. Night after night, the blade would meet your skin and bring dark red lines onto your arms. It hurt so bad and the blood was messy, but you felt relieved that you had punished yourself, and could sleep easily that night.

It got to the point where every night you would consider cutting more and more, deeper and deeper, just so the guilt from your past would leave you.

It was your fourth year when you started to reach out to more people, meet friends and try to talk to your professors about your troubles. You were tired of constantly hurting yourself in order to sleep, you wanted to be free.

Your friends would stay up long hours with you just talking about everything in the world, making sure you did not hurt yourself before you fell asleep. Professor McGonagall would sit with you in the afternoons and talk with you about your struggles, reassuring you that you did nothing wrong and you were safe now.

Your life was finally starting to turn around, you could see the light at the end of the tunnel, your smile was returning and so was your love, and by the time your fifth year rolled around, you found yourself crushing on Harry James Potter.

Harry was the greatest friend you ever had, he didn’t know about your past, but treated you with the same amount of care. He was simply incredible.

You hung out with him everyday, exploring the castle, doing homework, practicing spells or running around honeydukes, you could feel your feelings for him grow everyday. You could get lost in his gorgeous eyes for the rest of your days and stay in his arms for eternity.

Harry felt that feeling too, his heart beating out of his chest, lips curling whenever he saw you, and a constant need to impress you. At the end of the day it was the feeling of your arms around him and the sound of your voice that lulled him to sleep, he knew you were the one for him, and that he wanted you in his life as more than a friend.

Harry asked you to be his girlfriend the very next day and with a wide smile you accepted and practically flew into his arms. In that moment you weren’t scared anymore, the monsters were finally gone, and you finally felt complete, well… almost.

“Y/n, where are we going?” Harry asks as you pull him up a stairwell.

“The astronomy tower, obviously.” You laugh, reaching the top andpulling Harry closer to the ledge.

“Well, yes I see that darling, but what are we doing here?” He chuckles, wrapping his arms around your back.

“I need to tell you something, we should probably sit for this.” You murmur, gently lowering yourself into a sitting position with Harry following closely behind.

“What is it, love?” He asked, concerned since the look of happiness on your face melted and was replaced with solemn sadness.

You push your lips up into a forced smile as you take a deep breath and brush away the tears poking at the edges of your eyes, beginning to retell your story, from the start of your life to this very moment.

Tears begin trickling down your cheeks as you speak and Harry listens intently with his eyebrows furrowed. Your breath hitched, your hands moved to wipe at your tears and Harry pulled his handkerchief from his pocket and offered it to you.

By the time you’re done, Harry has tears in his eyes and his hands are holding yours. His grip tightens on your hands and he smiles softly at you.

“Darling, thank you for trusting me.” He murmurs. “I’m always here to support you y/n, I appreciate you and I am so happy you’re here with me. You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me, I am so grateful for you every single day.” Harry sighs happily, leaning into you to push his lips against your forehead.

You sigh in relief and nod cheerfully.

“Thank you Harry, it means a lot to me.” You smile, shuffling closer to his side and leaning your head on his shoulder.

Harry smiles, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pressing a kiss to your hairline.

“I’m always here for you, darling.”

[maraudersandlily20]

Can you please write a Drarry fic for this prompt

“A cat.”

“Yes.”

“We broke in here to steal... a cat?”

“Yes.”

Prompt from

“I don’t like the feeling of this place,” Harry whispered, crouching down beside Draco. The pair were trying to move as silently as possible through the grounds of a large estate that loomed over them like the harbinger of death. 

“Well, Death Eaters live here Harry,” Draco’s tone matched what a person would use with a child. 

“Which is ridiculous, by the way! I mean, it’s pretty obvious at this point who the Death Eaters were. They’ve arrested most of them. But they are lagging behind.”

Draco shrugged. “The war ended four years ago. Most people just want to put it behind them.”

“Lucky them.”

Draco pulled Harry lower behind the stone wall they were using as cover. “You’re going to get us caught if you keep talking like this.” He pulled Harry’s hand and the two dashed closer to the house. They picked their way to the left side of the front door, constantly checking around them.

“That’s another thing. What exactly are we doing here? What are we taking?”

“I told you. My grandfather, Abraxus, has something in here that requires better care than he is giving it. I didn’t even realize he still had it. But I’ve had confirmations from my cousins.”

“I didn’t even know you had cousins.”

Draco smiled over his shoulder as they got to the foundation of the house. “Yeah, they’re not people I like to hang around. The wrong sort, I guess you could say.”

“You’re never going to let that go, are you?” Harry rolled his eyes as he stepped into Draco’s intertwined hands and grabbed onto the window ledge, pulling himself up. When he had himself firmly situated on the lip, he unlocked the latch on the window and swung it open slowly. Making sure that the room was clear, he leaned back over the window and grabbed Draco’s hands in his and helped him maneuver his way up the stone. The dust cleared and it was the two of them after they had broken in the magnificent estate of Abraxus Malfoy. 

“Rather gloomy place, don’t you think?” Harry whispered, feeling like it matched the mood. 

“No one comes here anymore,” said Draco, walking over to a wall full of portraits. “After father’s arrest, Grandfather got rather ill. He didn’t want any visitors unless they were invited, like my cousins, and he sits up here alone in his grand estate, cursing mudbloods.”

Harry stared up at the wall of stern and severe faces. He could see Draco in many of them, in the face shape, eye color, hair color, thinness. All of them sat sleeping, paying no attention to the noise of their entrance. This was his family. He was struck with the feeling that there was so much about Draco that he didn’t know and maybe never would. With a family like that, it would be hard to talk about. 

“Well, he should think about getting a maid,” he said in response, gesturing to the coating of dust on everything. 

A chuckle escaped Draco’s lips and he shoved at Harry, making the other boy grin. It was such a warm moment that Harry had to catch his breath. Their friendship was new, fragile, untested. And neither of them could deny that there was a spark underneath the friendship, just waiting to catch fire. They both worried though that the fire wouldn’t keep them warm but burn them alive. Harry didn’t want to push Draco into anything, so he didn’t speak about it, hoping the other boy would bring it up. He never did. 

“Alright, Malfoy. Let’s go steal from dear old Grandfather, hm?”

Draco’s smile twisted into something sinister and wicked. “I would love nothing more.”

He turned and left the room, having removed his shoes to lessen the sound. Harry wondered what they looked like, sneaking around on their tippy toes with their muddy shoes in hand. It was like a bad crime novel. 

Together, they went up the stairs, not the grand main staircase, but a more convenient, small staircase that most likely was used by staff and elves. Harry was grateful for the illegality of having house elves now so none of them would have to suffer in such a horrible place like this. 

“It’s just up here, on the second level.”

“You know,” Harry whispered, “I have done many stupid things in my life. Ron and Hermione can attest to that-”

“You mean like going into a corridor that was strictly forbidden when you were 11? Or entering a tournament that required you to be 18 even though you were 14?”

“I didn’t enter-”

“Or maybe learning spells that weren’t really tested and then using them on people, giving them scars for life?”

“Scars are hot,” Harry whispered.

Draco looked back, unimpressed. “Or maybe you were referring to the time where you willingly walked into a forest where Voldemort was and got yourself killed-”

“I came back to life!”

“-And continued to make ridiculous decisions throughout the battle of Hogwarts even though there was a chance you could die a second time? You mean stupid and reckless like that?”

They had paused in their ascent up the stairs as Draco recounted the misdeeds of Harry’s life. His face bloomed red, because Draco saying this meant that Draco noticed what happened to Harry. Meaning that Draco was watching Harry just as often as Harry was watching Draco. 

“When you say it like that, it’s like you’re implying that I’m a daredevil with a death wish.”

“You think that was an implication?”

Harry narrowed his eyes. “What I was GOING to say, before I was so rudely interrupted,” Draco scoffed and continued up the steps. “I may be reckless but I’ve never really broken in to someone’s house before. This is a first for me.”

“The way you lithely got onto the windowsill says otherwise.”

“I’m spry.”

“And a felon.”

“I’m an accessory, at best. This was your master plan, Malfoy. Remember?”

He couldn’t see Draco’s face, but assumed he was smiling at Harry’s insistence on that fact.

“I’m just impressed you can use such big words like accessory,” Draco snickered, making Harry smack at his back, causing Draco to go up the stairs faster to avoid him. 

They emerged onto the second level, pausing for a moment to gather whether or not someone had heard them. No obvious noise seemed to be approaching so Harry turned to the other boy. “So, let’s accio this thing and get out of here?”

“We can’t.”

“Why not.”

Draco walked swiftly down the hallway to a pair of ornately carved wooden doors. “Accio doesn’t work on live animals,” he threw over his shoulder before easing one side of the doorway open. 

Harry stuttered to a stop, confusion filling him. “I’m sorry, did you just say live animals?”

He met Draco in the doorway and peered into what seemed to be a music room, equipped with a variety of musical instruments, like a grand piano and an array of cellos, basses, and violins. He might had paused in awe at the state of them, but he was distracted.

By the black cat sitting quietly on a cushion on the sofa.

“You have got to be kidding me,” he whispered, looking at Draco with an expression that clearly said that the joke needed to end and they could move on. Draco didn’t move.

“Nope.”

“A cat?”

“Yes.”

“We broke in here to steal... a cat?”

“Yes.”

Harry didn’t often feel like facepalming himself, but now would have been one of those moments. He flicked Draco’s shoulder, causing the boy to flinch and look over in outrage. 

“WE ARE RISKING OUT LIVES FOR A CAT?!” he whisper yelled.

Draco walked into the room, kneeling in front of the cat who’s eyes were a strange misty blue and allowed it to sniff him a few times. When he understood there was a new person there, he pushed his head into Draco’s hand so he would pet him. Draco smiled and picked the cat up gingerly. With their kidnapped cat safely in his arms, he gestured for Harry to leave the room.

Though he was angry beyond belief, Harry did as he was instructed and made his way back to the little staircase. The two moved through the house quickly before exiting through the same window they had forced their way into. It was quick and painless and not a single person saw them.

When they were free of the grounds of the manner and had apparated back to Draco’s flat, he placed the cat down with a gentle touch. After making sure his new guest was settled, he turned to Harry, and grabbed him. His hands went on either side of Harry’s face and before Harry could even blink, Draco’s lips were on his. 

His response was immediate and enthusiastic. He was FINALLY kissing Draco! He felt like his heart was going to burst. 

After a few minutes of them being wrapped up in each other, Draco pulled back smiling. “As a thank you,” he whispered, face flush. 

“You’re welcome.”

“Also,” Draco leaned forward and nudged Harry’s nose with his own. “We weren’t risking our lives by taking the cat.”

“No?”

“No. My grandfather wasn’t even home.”

The sentence settled in the air as Harry took in what had been said. As understanding fell over him, he felt aghast. Draco has USED him? LIED to him? For a CAT?!

“Malfoy!!!-” But Harry couldn’t finish his yelp of anger, because Draco was kissing him again. And that effectively shut him up. 

[dandelionflower]

She hikes alone

Marinette skipped to her friends, tapping Adrien on the shoulder before hugging him tight.

“Hey, Princess,” he gave her a smile that melted her heart, “we were just talking about things we could do on our free day.”

He gestured to the class, who were all deep in a debate over ice cream place or pizza parlor.

“I was thinking we could go to a park; a new friend of mine has a couple of places we could check out. I think it would be really good as a lazy activity to get rid of jet lag, or in Kim’s case, excess energy.”

“Sounds really nice!” He smiled and began to open his mouth to tell them; he had become Marinette’s representative to the class, when Lila stood up.

“Hey guys! What if, since today doesn’t have anything planned, we went to a park and hung out?”

“That’s a genius idea, Lila!”

“I could play frisbee!”

“I’d enjoy observing the local flora.”

That’s genius Lila. You’re so smart. Marinette growled under her breath, Lila obviously overheard her talking with Adrien and took credit for her idea.

“I actually know some parks we could go to, from when I visited with Jagged Stone a few months back. We could go to one of those, if you want?”

“That sounds great Lila!” Adrien cut in before Marinette could protest. “Let’s go now!”

“Don’t worry,” he whispered to her as the class cheered and stood up, “I’ll make sure we go to a nice park.”

That’s not what I’m worried about. Marinette thought as she watched Lila attach herself to Adrien’s arm.

She followed at a fair distance from the class; not by choice, her friends just seemed to speed up whenever she tried to walk near them.

“Marinette!” Grace tapped on her shoulder, a broad grin on her face. She was wearing the headband. “Where did you decide on going?”

“A park.”

“That’s great! Which one are you going to? Because if you haven’t decided, I have a ton of great places for you to go...” she plucked some pamphlets from her back pocket and displayed one. “I think this one would suit your needs best.”

“Thanks, Grace, but...” Marinette spared a glance at the pack of students, led by Lila and Adrien. “I think it’s already been decided.”

Grace’s expression soured. “Okay, but keep ahold of that pamphlet, will you? You might end up finding time to go.”

“I hope I do.” She waved Grace a quick goodbye and dashed back to her friends, who were already going through the door.

—

They hopped on a bus and Marinette smirked as Lila worried her lip, eyes darting towards every sign that could possibly lead her to a park.

As fun as that was, Marinette quickly got bored and began perusing the pamphlet Grace handed to her.

Quarry Stone Park

Known for its towering pillars of black stone, it is rumored that Quarry Stone Park was where the brick for the famed Culpa Manor was mined.

While the parks naming is rather obvious, it also contains many hidden paths, leading to waterfalls, gem-filled caves, and even the ocean.

A popular landmark of the park is Quarry Ledge, which overlooks the ocean. The natural black spires and stark white sands make for an amazing view.

That’s where we should be going, Marinette mused, not wherever Lila’s going to take us.

“Here we are!” Lila sang. “The best park in the whole town.”

Sure... Marinette glanced at the rotting wooden sign, the crumbling letters reading, Wooded Glade Park.

The class ran in, Alix already tossing a frisbee for Kim to catch. Adrien fell back and greeted Marinette with a silent smile and had just grabbed her hand when everyone fell silent and stared at the open field surrounded by borderline rotting trees.

“Uhh, Lila?” Ivan asked, shielding Mylene’s eyes from the mistreated plants. “Are you sure this is he place? It looks a little run down.”

“Definitely!” Lila protested, and though her back was facing Marinette, she could almost see the false tears welling up in her eyes. “I- I don’t know what happened; it used to be so beautiful... I’m so sorry everyone.”

“What if we helped you clean it up?” Rose offered. “Got rid of any trash and planted some flowers!”

“Yeah!” The class cheered, voicing their agreement.

“You- you would all do that for me?”

“Of course!”

“I can’t believe this! I... thank you!”

Mylene pulled Ivan’s hand from her eyes and glared at the offending trees. “Babe? I need a lift.”

Ivan picked her up and placed her onto his shoulders.

“Alright everybody!” She shouted, voice abnormally loud. “I need someone to carry heavy stuff, a couple people for trash and, Marinette! Can you organize our efforts?”

She smiled and was about to pull out her notebook, when Lila opened her mouth, which had proven to be a tragedy in itself.

“I don’t know guys, remember how late Marinette came in? She didn’t even get to have breakfast, we don’t want to tire her out what with the jet lag and all. I can just organize, you know I was an organizer to a famous charity.”

“That’s a great idea, Lila! I’ll help!” Adrien leaned over to whisper in Marinette’s ear. “Don’t worry, I can keep her out of trouble while you just relax and walk down one of the trails, it’s a win-win.”

But I want to walk the trails with you...

She smiled, gave him a kiss on the cheek and walked to the closest trail as fast as she could so Adrien couldn’t see the tears collecting in her eyes.

She loved how selfless Adrien was, she did. It was just... he never seemed to choose her.

She stood there for a moment and allowed herself to cry. This was supposed to be a fun trip where she could hang out with her boyfriend and friends as they all explored her favorite place in the world.

Marinette finally looked up and observed the signs marking the different paths she could take.

Daisy Walkway.

Riverside.

Quarry Stone Path.

Quarry Stone?

Marinette pulled out her pamphlet and compared the names.

Maybe I will get to see Quarry Stone after all.

—

It was a fair hike to Quarry Stone, but it was so worth it.

The trees were lush and green, every bench and table were in perfect condition, people were everywhere, and interspersed across the field were dozens of giant black pillars of rock.

Marinette gave a glance to the other trails.

Waterfalls, meadows, beachside.... there were so many choices.

“Excuse me, sir?” She touched the arm of a nearby elderly man, who was exiting one of the trails. “I was wondering, do you know these trails well? Could you maybe recommend one to me?”

“Never been to Quarry Stone, have you dear?” He gave her a friendly smile.

“No.”

“Well, when I was young and adventurous, I would go on the Nymph’s River path. On a sunny day like this, it’s sure to be a magical sight.”

“It’s cloudy, you old coot!”

A frail old woman in a worn pink dress stumbled from the same path.

“What?” The man put on a thick pair of spectacles and squinted at the sky. “So it is.”

“I’m Henry’s wife, Meredith, and what’s your name, sweetie?”

“I’m Marinette. It’s nice to meet you.” She grinned at the familiar banter that reminded her of her parents.

“Likewise, dear.” A bony hand grasped her own. “Now, what’s a little thing like you doing out here all alone?”

“Um, my class, we’re here on a field trip and we had… a disagreement on what to do.”

“Ah, and they let you do your thing but it’s not as fun alone, is it?”

“No, not really.”

“I’ve got just the place for you dear. Henry, what about...” she leaned in to whisper in his ear.

“You’re a genius, Mere. Kiddo, just go down that path,” he pointed her to the forest, “and I promise it will be a sight worth seeing.”

“Okay, thank you both so much!” She waved to the couple as she headed down the path, memorizing their faces in case they encounter one another again.

—

It truly was a sight worth seeing, as promised.

When Marinette finally broke out of the dark greens in the surrounding the trail, she was met by the most soothing sight she’d ever laid eyes on.

She was standing on a large ledge carved out of the hill; metal posts and railings were surrounding the platform. Nothing noteworthy.

But the sight it was there to show was unimaginably perfect. The sand was a pure white, which would have been blinding if it wasn’t for the clouds covering the sun. The stone spires that decorated the entire forest were dotting the beach in all their splendor, rising proudly and casting barely noticeable shadows across the sand and the pale, rolling waves.

She leaned on the railing; taking in the soothing spectacle. It was almost like she was falling asleep, her consciousness drifting until she had no other thought but the muted colors in front of her...

“Meow?”

Marinette screamed and leapt away from the sound, pushing her back against the railing and gripping it with both hands likes she was on a crashing elevator.

A black cat with startling blue eyes stared at her, tilting its head in a quizzical motion.

“Mrrrrrr.” Was its only reaction to her panic.

“He- hello?”

It stared at her waved hand, like it was the most interesting thing it had seen.

She held it out tentatively, in an open gesture, leaving enough space for it to leave.

It stared at it for a moment longer before tentatively leaning forwards to place its head in her palm. It purred as she scritched its chin.

“What’s your name, kitty?” She mused. “Garfield? Like the Culpa that started the mansion?”

It leaned its head into her pinky in a silent gesture to go on.

“Harriet? Darrian? Abigail?”

No cigar.

“What about Culpa?”

The cat purred and nuzzled her hand with a vigor.

“Culpa it is.” She brought her other hand to pet at the newly-christened Culpa’s ear.

Culpa mewled with a satisfaction that seemed... almost human on the face of the pitch cat.

—

The rest

@miraculous-of-salt @calliopeia @drama-queen-supreme @kaydenth3gayden @mcheang @nomiegnome @never-say-donuts @vixen-uchiha @miracul0us-multishipper @hauntedfreakdeputyhero @chocolatecustarddanish @iwantswifttoblessmysoul @digitalmagpie @ilseofskadi @nerdy-and-a-little-birdy @minty-goose @nataladriana9 @aestheticnpoetic @constellation-king @animegirlweeb @persephonebutkore @ahalloweengirl @r0sebutch @marinettepotterandplagg @beelzzebop @akalovelymaybe @pleasefollowmeuwu @angelost4r @constancetruggle @speaknowtome @some-oxymoron @nerdy-scifi-birdy @toodaloo-kangaroo @purplesundaze @aestheticnpoetic @neptuningkai @2confused-2doanything

[nompunhere]

Guilt and Good Intentions (H/ollow K/night Vore Fic)

w-what do you mean it’s been a month and a half since my last oneshot? haha, nooooo

Characters: M/ato, Ghost Word Count: 2,834 Warnings: Minor H/ollow K/night Spoilers, Bugs, Safe Soft G/t Vore (don’t like don’t read), Minor Injury Other Notes: This could theoretically take place a while before Friend of a Friend, but it can also stand alone (and when I say a while, I mean before the events of TATG). anyway, uh, here you go

Fic under the cut

—————————————–

With a light tug, the roots of the dull but hardy plant slipped free from the ashen soil of the Howling Cliffs. Though not very tasty, they were nutritious, and that’s what mattered to the foraging Nailmaster. Survival was tough out here, but Mato valued the peace that his solitude offered. He added his latest find to the bag at his hip, already looking for more as it slipped in among the vengeflies, tiktiks, crawlids, and vegetation. Some of it contained traces of Infection, but he was experienced in draining his catches to be safe for consumption.

It took a lot to feed a beetle as big as Mato, and the cliffs weren’t known to house large creatures, so to make up for it, he had to collect many smaller things. He was always careful not to over-hunt and further disturb the fragile ecosystem, but it made hunting and gathering quite a chore. At least it was something to do with his day. Though solitude brought peace, it wasn’t uncommon for that to be accompanied by boredom.

His thoughts drifted towards his brave, diligent pupil as he stepped closer to the edge of the outcropping he was searching. The little one’s visits were a wonderful disruption to the monotony of his days. He never knew when they were going to show up, but it never failed to bring a smile to his face when they did. Even if they only sat silently beside him for a time before leaving, their company was more than enough.

Shielding his eyes from the incoming wind and sand, Mato gazed out over the cliffs for anything else that looked mostly edible. He had enough to sustain him for a bit, but it never hurt to have spare rations.

Something at the very bottom caught his eye, but it wasn’t food. No, it was an oddly-shaped white blob, too reflective to fit in with all the other inhabitants of the area, with two dark spots on one side, and something that looked to be made of metal resting nearby. He squinted. Was that… his student? They weren’t moving. Well, that wasn’t good! He cursed and began to make his way down. Even if it wasn’t them, he had to be sure. His sure footing carried him down the familiar hidden paths. Still, it took longer than he would’ve liked to reach the base of the cliffs.

Upon hopping down from the last ledge, Mato looked up towards the shape he had seen, and his breath caught. He hurried over and knelt beside it. That was his pupil alright. Judging by their sprawled position and the shallow crater they made in the sand, they had fallen. Recently, if the lack of dust coating them was anything to go by.

“Little one? Can you hear me?!”

Cautiously, the Nailmaster put a hand to their chest. They weren’t breathing, at least, not perceptibly. For any other being, this would be a definite cause for concern, but Mato knew from past meditations with the little wanderer that they could go for long periods without a single hint of life and be just fine. They weren’t leaking any black particles, either, like they had once when he had caught a glimpse of them dashing out of one of the Howling Cliffs’ narrower caves, covered in injuries. The last thing of note was that they were colder than any husk would be. Past experience again told Mato that this was normal for them, as though they emitted cold rather than heat. Hopefully, all this meant that they still lived. He didn’t dare think about what it meant if they didn’t.

He sighed and gingerly picked the little wanderer up. Turning them over to check for injury, he hissed through his mandibles. At the base of their shell was a small crack. Not enough to draw hemolymph, or… whatever it was that they bled, but certainly enough to knock them out, if they got it from the fall. A glance at the ground confirmed it. There was a small rock right where their head had landed, driven into the loose dirt by the impact.

“You’ve gotten yourself into quite the mess here, huh?”

Mato shifted his pupil into one arm and retrieved their nail. The next logical step would be to bring them home so that they could recover. He looked up at the long climb that composed the way back, heaving another sigh. Getting down quickly was challenge enough, but getting back up was another story. He would need both hands for that. He looked down at his charge and considered his options.

Slinging them over his shoulder and expecting them to stay there through the whole journey was out of the question. He snorted at the very idea. He looked over his armor and cloak for other ideas. The straps that held his cloak in place might work…

An experimental tug was enough to tell him otherwise. Too tight. They were meant to fit him and his armor, and by the Wyrm, that’s what they did. It kept his cloak secure, sure, but there was hardly room to slip anything else in there, let alone a small knight. Tucking them under the ruff of his cloak presented similar problems. It would either be too loose and allow them to fall (again), too tight and hurt them more than they already were, or it would force him to hold his head at an awkward angle, which would be dangerous for climbing.

Another potential spot was the bag at his hip. Yeah, no, not there either. It was full of dead bugs, possibly Infected ones at that. He wasn’t about to toss them in with those, nor was he willing to empty the bag and make all those creatures’ deaths meaningless. He wasn’t one to put lives to waste, no matter how seemingly insignificant.

That left only one option.

Mato would really rather not resort to this, but he didn’t see any alternatives. It would be messy, of course, and most likely frightening for the little one if they were to wake up before he got home. He’d much prefer it if he were able to explain the situation to them—assure them of their safety and all that. In fact, if, under better circumstances, they agreed to let him do this,  he’d probably even enjoy it. But not like this.

After slipping their nail into his bag (it could be cleaned off easily enough later), he held his student to his chest and began to murmur reassurances. They most likely couldn’t hear him, but the well-meaning beetle did it anyway, if only for his own peace of mind.

“It’s alright, we’ll get you fixed up. I’m gonna bring you back home for that, okay?” He patted their back and took in a breath. “I gotta put you somewhere until we get there, though. This may be scary, but you’ll be safe, I promise. I would never hurt you. Never…” he trailed off in a whisper.

Slowly, he held them out in front of him and looked them over once more, this time to figure out how to best go about his next action. First, Mato moved them back into one hand to lift his mask away from his face, then secured the wanderer in a gentle but firm grip, raising them above his open maw. He hesitated for only a moment before lowering them in, letting them slide feet-first toward his throat. That done, he closed his mouth, simply holding them behind loosely-closed mandibles while he steeled himself.

It struck him then just how easily they fit. They were only slightly larger than his master. It had been a long, long time since he had last taken in the Great Nailsage like this, but he remembered the feeling well. This would no doubt be similar, if not for the knight’s stillness.

Mato forced himself to stop stalling. He had to get them home to recover. He gulped once, twice, fully enveloping them in the strong muscles of his esophagus. One more, and they were sent down, a cold mass descending through his thorax. He rested a hand over his chest and focused internally, following their journey.

It was somewhat ironic; he had a whole bag of food right there at his side, and yet it was his pupil, who was very much not food, that he was sending to his stomach. He huffed out a small laugh, then cut off as he felt the telltale drop. They remained completely still, and didn’t weigh much. If not for their inherent chill, he may not have felt their presence at all. It filled him with concern.

“You’re okay, it’ll all be okay,” he said, giving them one last pat through his armor, chitin, and flesh.

With that, Mato checked that his mask was back in place and looked around to make sure the little one hadn’t dropped anything besides their nail. Nope. He turned back toward the cliffs and glanced up, sighing at how far he had to go. The Nailmaster walked forward, grabbed the first of many footholds, and began to climb. This would take a while.

—————————————–

Mato was panting slightly by the time he trudged into his hut. He had high stamina compared to the average bug, what with all the training he regularly did with his greatnail, but it was still a lot of work to get all the way up the cliffs with the wind pounding at his back. He set his weapon in its usual spot by the door, followed by the sack of food he had scrounged up.

Speaking of, er, “food,” there was still no sign of life from the little wanderer in his belly. He pressed a hand into his abdomen. The hard curve of their horn confirmed that they were still there. Upon giving them his full attention again, he could tell that the area of his stomach they rested on had gone numb from the extended contact. It was hard to detect, but it felt very strange, to say the least.

Now that he was home, it was time to get his ward a comfortable place to rest until they awoke. He had reason to believe that his insides were, in fact, plenty comfortable to sleep in, but again, he didn’t want to frighten the poor being by having them wake up there. In this case, a blanket nest should work just as well. With a fresh burst of energy, the beetle set to work building one. The many pillows scattered around his hut came in handy for its construction.

About a dozen pillows and a few blankets later, Mato tucked one last cushion into place before he realized that he couldn’t make it any cozier than it already was. Funny how he had little care for the cleanliness of his own hut, but when preparing a space for his student, it needed to be perfect. The Nailmaster pulled himself back to his feet with a grunt and retrieved the sheet he had set aside. It was the least pleasant one he had—being a greyish-brown color and made of somewhat rough material, it found use as a towel far more often than it did as a blanket. That’s what it would be used for then, too.

Layering it across his hands, Mato held the sheet out in front of him and took a deep breath. His stomach muscles contracted as he began the process of bringing out the little wanderer. This part was never his favorite. The hard lump that was their shell pushed its way up his throat- Oh, wyrm, mask! He internally berated himself for forgetting about it as he hastily shoved it out of the way of his mouth. Not a moment too soon, either.

The soaked form of the knight fell into Mato’s covered hands. Quickly, he wrapped the makeshift towel around them and held the bundle to his chest to free up an arm. Once his mask was pulled back into place and he could see properly, he more carefully dried them off.

Hooking the blanket around his thumb, he lightly swiped the last traces of fluid off of their horns before laying them in the nest. Excellent. Now all he had to do was wait for them to wake up. …Probably. It felt like there was something more he could do for them, but no matter how hard he wracked his brain, he couldn’t think of anything.

Mato stared down at his pupil. Just as he was about to sit down to watch over them, he was interrupted by a growl. Right, food. He hadn’t eaten much that day, and gathering what he had had taken up a lot of his energy. As much as he wanted to keep an eye on them, it was important to take care of his own needs too. Besides, maybe they’d want something to eat as well?

He wondered what, if anything, his student ate as he grabbed the sack of ingredients and plodded off to the area he called a kitchen.

—————————————–

A slight shuffle at the edge of his hearing brought Mato’s head shooting up from where it was bowed in meditation. He leaned forward in anticipation as the little wanderer before him twitched into wakefulness.

It was a slow process. On the way up, they hadn't moved at all, only minutely sliding around with Mato's more sudden movements. They were completely still over the few hours that they had been resting in his hut, too. At first, he had fussed over them, adjusting their blankets, wiping off their nail and setting it where they could retrieve it, feeling for any sort of breath or shift from them, mumbling his thoughts aloud, and anxiously getting up to reheat the meal he had set aside for them whenever it went cold. After a while with no response, however, he simply settled down to wait. The large beetle may or may not have dozed off a few times.

Now though, the little ghost started to sit up, putting one hand to their head and struggling to support themself on the other.

"Here, here, it's alright," Mato murmured as he helped them get situated. He soothingly rubbed their back, free hand hovering nearby. "How are you feeling, my pupil? That was quite a long fall back there, or so it appeared. Would you like something to eat? I made a, uh, a stir-fry, that's what we'll call it. I can reheat it for you, if you like. Does that sound good? Is there anything you need?"

The only response to the Nailmaster's rambling was a blank stare. The knight had gone completely motionless once more. Mato's hand stilled and he glanced to the side.

"Um-"

Before he could say anything else, they shook their head and jerked to a stop when it made them dizzy. Hunched with their head in their hands, they looked ever so small. Mato couldn’t help but pull in closer to comfort them. “Okay, there isn’t, that’s okay. Are you sure?”

This time, they looked back at him and gave a slow but certain nod. From there, they noticed their nail beside them and returned it to their back, then turned to face him a bit more and continued staring. Mato scooted back to give them some space. It was at this point that the beetle considered telling them how he got them up the cliff. It… wasn’t strictly necessary to disclose that information, but they deserved to know, didn’t they? A lie of omission was still a lie, and Mato didn’t like lying. On the other hand, it might scare them, and again, they didn’t really need to know. All that mattered was that he got his student home safely. The means weren’t too important, so long as no one got hurt, right?

As he thought about that, the little wanderer’s gaze drifted downward, evidenced by the tilt of their head. From meeting his eyes (he assumed, anyway) to slightly below that. He wasn’t given much time to wonder what that meant before they looked away, shifted, and climbed forward out of the blanket nest to stand in front of him.

Mato huffed and returned his pupil’s stare. They seemed to be thinking about something. Suddenly, they rushed forward, grabbing him in a hug.

“Oh!” Shocked, it took the Nailmaster a few seconds to return it. He barely got his arms around them before they slipped away from his hold. That was a shame. He loved hugs.

The little wanderer gave him one last glance, unsheathed their nail, and ran through his front door. He called out a quick farewell, stuttering off into a surprised laugh when they sat on the bench in his entryway for approximately 2 seconds before hopping back off and rushing outside. How odd. They were a strange being, but Mato was glad to have them as his student.

***********************************

Do they know what he did? Mmmmmmmaybe. Who knows? Mato might just be worrying over nothing  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Next up will probably be the other Oro and Tiso fic I mentioned a bit ago, and then idk. I’m still working on a multi-chapter TATG fic and the bee comic. I can’t be certain what order I’ll get things done in, or how long it’ll take.

Thanks for reading! Feedback is greatly appreciated, and criticism is accepted, so long as it’s constructive/respectful. Asks are open.

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DNI NSFW blogs, blogs that post exclusively hard and/or fatal vore, weight gain blogs, proshippers, TERFs, ace exclusionists, etc.

[seriouslysnape]

First your writing is amazing! Second if you’re willing to write for young Snape will you consider writing him with a fellow classmate (Slytherin)? They’re best friends and there’s been mutual pining but neither of them recognize it, even though her other friends have tried to convince her that Snape is into her. And eventually he’s the one to finally confess and as he anxiously rambles on, she interrupts him by kissing him.

No worries if you don’t want to write it!

SO CUTE. THESE ARE THE BEST IDEAS. This one is stupid cheesy and fluffy. 

(Below the cut ofc) :)

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Taking Chances

Young Severus Snape x Fem. Reader

Warnings: None.

Word Count: 2,355

“Doesn’t it just take your breath away?”

__

“He’s looking at you again.” Your friend whispered from where she sat across from you.

You glanced over your shoulder to see the familiar Slytherin boy that you had become so acquainted with over the years. He was sitting by himself at one of the tables in the Hogwarts library, an overly large Advanced Potions book open in front of him. His black hair was unkempt and had grown well past his ears, his slender frame hunched over his study material as he quickly averted your gaze once you gave him a friendly smile.

You turned your attention back to your friend who was looking at you with a knowing smirk. You raised a brow.

“What?” You questioned.

“He likes you.” She stated quietly so no one else could hear.

You gave her a heavy sigh in response. Not this again.

“We’ve been over this. Severus doesn’t like me like that. We’re just friends.” You explained, hiding the disappointment in your voice.

“Friends who spend every day together and very clearly have a thing for each other.” She argued back, tapping her quill on her parchment.

It was common knowledge within the Slytherin House that you and Severus Snape were the unofficial couple of all the sixth years. The two of you had grown extremely close during your time at Hogwarts, and there weren’t many things that the two of you didn’t know about each other. You tended to be so close that you were blind to the fact that you both were crazy about each other.

“Is it so wrong for me to have a close friend who happens to be a boy?” You asked, feeling Severus’ stare on you again.

She shrugged, completely forgetting about the assignment she had been working on. Your other friends had been telling you for years that he admired you. They noticed the way he hid his face behind his hair when you complimented him or said something kind. Or the way he squirmed in his seat whenever you entered a room and sat next to him. The only time he ever really seemed to smile or have any sense of happiness at all was when you were around.

Other students always gave him such a hard time. He was a shy, quiet kid with not a lot of backbone to defend himself. He let other kids toss him around and walk all over him. You had always felt sorry for him. Any initial encounter you had with him had been nothing but pleasant. You were a popular Slytherin girl, boys and girls alike of all Houses were constantly feigning for your attention.

Severus was the only one who you had ever had any interest in.

He had a pure heart, which was more than you could say for anyone else who had ever tried to win you over. He was just a little different was all. There wasn’t anything wrong with that. You steadily began to build a beautiful friendship, and you saw a side of Severus that you were sure no one else would ever witness. He quickly became your best and most trusted friend.

You didn’t expect to fall in love with him though.

“Not at all. I’m just saying that it’s clear that you’re dancing around one another.” She pointed out, briefly looking at Severus and then back to you.

You didn’t offer any kind of response, hoping she’d drop the conversation. You were sure that she, along with the rest of your friends, were horribly wrong. You didn’t believe that Severus had feelings for you, no matter how badly you wanted it to be true.

She leaned in even closer, her voice even quieter than before.

“You know, [Y/N]...there’s no shame in making the first move.” She advised.

You snorted, rolling your eyes.

“Yeah, and be horribly rejected and humiliated? No thanks.” You replied curtly.

She shot you a doubtful look.

“Come on. Severus would never embarrass you. The worst that could happen is that he says no to a date,” She said, trying her hardest to persuade you; “Just take a chance. You never know what might happen.”

You rolled your eyes again, packing up your stuff. You were done with this conversation.

“If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to spend my time with someone less pushy.” You insulted your fellow Slytherin friend.

She didn’t take that personally. She brushed it off, knowing you were just frustrated. You moved yourself and your belongings to the table where Severus was sitting.

“Can I sit here?” You asked him sweetly, knowing he wouldn’t mind.

He nodded in response, acting as if he hadn’t just been staring at you for the last half hour. A hot blush crept onto his pale cheeks so he shook his head slightly to push his hair in front of his face to hide it.

“How is your Potions homework going? I haven’t done mine yet.” You asked, eyeing the book he had been reading from.

“Rather well. I can help you with yours, if you want.” He said.

Your chest fluttered gratefully at his offer. Severus was exceptional when it came to Potions. It wasn’t a shocker that he had chosen to take Advanced Potions this year. You were decent enough at it to qualify for the advanced class, but you still struggled with some concepts. Severus, on the other hand, completely aced it.

“That’d be great. This chapter has been hard for me.” You admitted, reaching into your bag to retrieve your less impressive Potions textbook.

He began to walk you through the homework, pointing out what each section required you to do. You had placed yourself next to him, watching as he scribbled the names of ingredients and amounts of each on the parchment. You watched how his focus trained in on what he was doing, and how he carefully explained certain concepts to you.

He was so cute when he was confident.

“You try this last one. It lists the ingredients and you have to figure out what potion the question is asking for.” He said, handing your quill back to you.

When you took it from his grip, your fingers brushed against his for a moment. His skin was surprisingly supple, yet calloused in some areas on his hand.. He spent a lot of time brewing potions, so you expected him to have some wear on them. Your eyes met his for a moment, looking stunned that your hands had just touched.

You quickly zoned back into your work, ignoring the flushing feeling you felt in your legs. He patiently waited for you to read the ingredients listed. He noted how your brows furrowed in concentration while you racked your brain of all the possible answers. You were dedicated to your work and education. You were motivated to be a successful witch after you graduated next year. He admired your work ethic and determination. He was so fond of the way you went out of your way to make him feel seen. You genuinely cared for him and made him happy.

“I think it’s...Everlasting Elixir?”” You said, half content with your answer.

“Exactly,” Severus confirmed; “You’re better at Potions than you give yourself credit for.”

You swallowed hard at his compliment, but gave him a kind smile. He really could be so charming...even if it was unintentional.

“Thanks, S. You’ve been a huge help.” You returned the compliment.

He gave a rare, but cute smile in return. He was more than willing to help you. A silence grew between the two of you. Suddenly, neither of you could think of what to say. You thought about what your friend had been saying. Maybe you should make a move. It wasn’t like it would kill you if you did. You didn’t want to ruin your friendship by any means, but you were afraid you’d regret it if you let this go undiscussed.

“Do you want to meet me in the courtyard later? The sunset is always so pretty this time of year and I hate watching it alone.” You said, deciding you needed more time if you were going to do this.

Sunset watching? Severus thought about that idea for a second or so. You hadn’t ever done that together. Wasn’t that something that couples did?

“Yes. I’d like that.” He accepted.

You sheepishly laughed, nodding excitedly.

“I’ll see you then.” You said, getting up from your seat and dashing out of the library.

You had to prepare yourself for any outcome. At least now you wouldn’t spend the rest of your life wondering what could’ve been.

__

Dusk came quickly over Hogwarts castle, faster than you wanted it to. The sky blended into a beautiful canvas of orange, purple, and red. You were sitting on a concrete ledge, your feet swinging over the side. You had been building this moment up in your head all day. You still didn’t even know what you were going to say. How would he react? What if it totally destroyed your friendship?

There were too many unknowns that you just didn’t want to deal with if you didn’t have to.

The courtyard was surprisingly quiet for a Friday evening. Usually there were all kinds of students spread out around it. You took that as a blessing though. At least now there wasn’t anyone around to witness your possible rejection. Soon after, you spotted Severus entering the courtyard. He was walking with his head lowered slightly, per usual. However, he seemed to be standing a little taller than he usually did.

“Hi, Severus.” You greeted.

He was lovestruck at how beautiful you looked in the golden hour lighting. Your skin glowed and your eyes sparkled with perfection. He just couldn’t understand how anyone could feel this strongly about someone. He often wished that you were trained in Legilimency so you could read his mind every time you saw him.

That way you’d know how he felt about you. He thought that he made his feelings clear over the last few years. He was obviously interested when he had conversations with you or even when he was in your presence. You were the only person he helped with Potions or any class for that matter. He had laid his feelings out on the table in the only way he knew how. Couldn’t you see how his heart yearned for you?

“You look wonderful.” He said as boldly as he could, taking a spot next to you.

You smiled for the thousandth time that day, thanking him graciously. You  looked to the sky, mesmerized by the pretty swirls of color.

“Doesn’t it just take your breath away?” You asked, sighing contently.

Severus replied, but his eyes weren’t on the sky. But you didn’t notice.

“Yes. Every time.” He confessed, his black eyes on you.

He continued on.

“I wasn’t aware that you watch the sunset often.” He stated.

You shrugged.

“I don’t do it every day. Just when I have time for it.” You explained, gaze still fixed on the sky.

He nodded in understanding. He thought about how you were a lot like a sunset. Beautiful, comforting, calm, consistent. He knew he could always count on you to show up for him. He loved that. He was close enough to you that your shoulders were almost touching. If he paid attention, he could feel body heat radiate off of you.

“Did you have a nice rest of your day?” He questioned.

He was always so curious to hear about your day. Every aspect of your life fascinated him. You liked that he always cared about the seemingly small things.

“I did. I managed to finish all my homework. I’m tired of having weekend work.” You laughed.

He laughed as well, a soft, calculated sound bubbling out of him. You felt your nerves begin to rise back in your belly. You had to do this while the moment was right. You had to get on with it. Just ask him how he felt...or rather confess your own feelings. You had put this off for far too long.

Take a chance. Just take a chance.

You took a breath to speak, ready to bite the bullet, but he beat you to the punch.

“[Y/N], can I tell you something?” He asked, forcing his hands to stop shaking.

You were stunned for a split second, but recovered rapidly.

“Of course. Anything.” You prompted him to go on.

He looked to his feet, his shyness shining through. He gulped and anxiously pushed his hair behind his face.

“I really like you.” He confessed through a tight breath.

Your brain short circuited. No way. The tables had surely turned. A million emotions crashed over you like a giant, ocean wave. You were flooded with excitement, relief, happiness, and love all at once. Severus went on.

“Uhm a-and not just as a friend. I lov- I like you a lot more than that,” He announced; “I d-don’t want you to be mad at me now, but-”

And then you kissed him, gently and sweetly.

It caught him off guard at first, not expecting that reaction. He took it as a good sign, kissing back before it was too late to do so. He never saw this moment coming, but he was so glad that it did. He had never had a girlfriend before, but he was pretty sure he was going to like it.

You pulled back to look at Severus, who was wildly blushing now.

“I’m definitely not mad.” You smirked.

He smiled softly and contently.

“You like me too?” He asked, wanting to be absolutely sure.

“Yes. I absolutely do.” You nodded happily.

He exhaled with relief. This was more than either of you could’ve ever dreamed of. It was something you had wanted for long that it almost didn’t feel real. He kissed you this time, adoring the feel of you against him. For a moment, your mind went to the conversation you had earlier. You knew one thing for sure.

You would definitely take chances more often.