#so. extra pair of wings and mischievous look in her eyes

[scottie-draws-sometimes]

Ivorycello brainrot!!!! Ivorycello brainrot!!!!!! bc she is the coolest!!!!!!!

So yeah. Here’s just a dump of ivory drawings I’ve done. Love her so much, she is so cool

[giggly-moon]

INTRODUCING YET ANOTHER EPIC OC!! this one is named Enne! unfortunately i don’t have a character playlist for them just yet </3 also i will be adding the tickling related info later, as i’m not very good at coming up with tickle headcanons on the spot dhfndjdn

i couldn’t decide whether i wanted to make Enne male or female so i decided to make them non-binary instead! also the pronunciation of their name keeps switching between “enn-uh”, “enn-ay” and “enn-ee” in my head so therefore all three are correct. they’re confusing like that

another demigod baby! this time they’re a child of Hermes, so of course they’re gonna be a huge trickster and troublemaker. they honestly don’t resemble Hermes a whole lot, other than inheriting the ankle wings. though theirs are smaller with brown feathers, and they have an extra pair on their wrists.

Enne’s primary ability is that they’re a shapeshifter! they have the ability to transform into any animal/creature they want, and possibly transform into people too but that’s a bit trickier for them to pull off, and perfectly mimic the sounds they make.

even if their normal and more “human” looking form, they still have quite a few animalistic features like antlers, a long tail, cat-like eyes, fangs, claws, in-human ears and paw-like hands and feet. they also have dark brown fur on their tail, ears, arms starting right below their elbows and legs starting right below their knees. they also have shorter fur on their forehead going down to the bridge of their nose.

they didn’t inherit their dad’s ability to fly (unless they transform into something that can fly), but they are very agile and sneaky and can move very quietly, and because of their animal features they can jump very high and are very good at climbing.

they don’t really ever officially join the crew, but they’ve been secretly tagging along for quite a while now. they use their shapeshifting powers to hide somewhere on the ship just to watch the crew and all the shenanigans they get up to, cause they think these guys are hilarious.

although Melia has known about them the whole time, not just because of her own powers but because the two of them are cousins and they’re pretty close as well, so Enne isn’t too worried about hiding themselves from her. they know Mel won’t tell anybody else about them.

in terms of personality, they’re very very mischievous and playful, they’re just here to have fun and they love messing with people. they don’t really take things very seriously, but they’re still pretty nice and sweet considering their trickster ways. probably fascinated with shiny objects (the biggest inspirations for the way they act are cats and crows)

for someone who is a child of Hermes of all people, Enne is surprisingly pretty quiet and not much of a talker. they can talk but only do it sparingly, they let their actions and mannerisms do most of the talking

after their presence is made known to the rest of the crew, they’ll show up randomly fairly often just to hang out and see what everyone’s up to and join in on some of the hijinks. whenever they’re not around on the ship they’re either messing with some other random poor souls or they’re with the group of forest nymphs that raised them

[sarcasticdolphin]

Smrtolf fae au. September Prompt #1: "Coffee Smell."

For the amazing @adridoesstuff as all the Smrtolf drabbles are.

This one is soft and sweet. Cut is entirely for length.

Rudolf had risen with the sun, far earlier than usual. Once he and Smrt had watched the sunrise together over a curious breakfast - fruits that Rudolf could still only call strange for Smrt and more ordinary fare for Rudolf - but once Rudolf had reached his teenage years he rarely woke until a good hour or two after sunrise, and so now he dined with Smrt while the fae that had once dined with Smrt now took breakfast with him.

The kitchens are bustling but not overly full at this hour - most fae tend to sleep long into the morning. Smrt is something of the odd one out, always rising before even the sun itself. Rudolf’s eyes quickly find the ornate coffee tray. There are only three cups, so Aemilia and Anna must be Smrt’s only companions for breakfast today. Rudolf fetches an extra cup for himself - he’s not hungry just yet, that will come later - and sets off after the servant that will deliver the tray.

Smrt’s personal sitting room has a small table with four chairs. The servant sets the tray down and departs while Rudolf takes in the sight.

Aemilia and Smrt are both standing by a large map, already deep in a discussion of geography and the weather, while Anna’s gentle smile greets Rudolf as he slides into the only chair without a place setting in front of it.

“Good Morning.” Anna’s eyes have a slightly mischievous glint in them today, and her gown isn’t one that Rudolf has seen before. It’s nothing like what the ladies of his father’s court would wear, all silky and flowing with just a hint of translucency. The shimmer rather reminds Rudolf of the wings of a butterfly, while the colors fade from a gentle pink in the bodice to streaks of brazen greens and purples and yellows and blues by her feet. And while the gentle fall of the gown would itself be a scandal were any of Rudolf’s mother’s ladies to wear such a thing, the even greater scandal would be that Anna’s shoulders were left entirely bare and it was only breakfast time.

“Morning.” Rudolf inclines his head and glances at Aemilia and Smrt. Aemilia seems to be making a point of some sort, gesturing at particular features on the map. “How long have they…” he trails off, looking back to Anna for a moment before turning back to the pair.

Smrt is in his usual garb for less formal circumstances - a loose white shirt that shimmers in the light with a black vest overtop and black pants. His formal jacket will be somewhere around, but he won’t wear it until he goes to court. Likewise Rudolf imagines that his eyes are only rimmed with a little black eyeliner rather than the full war paint that he always wore for negotiations.

Aemilia is likewise in one of her usual sets of getup. The shirt is white and loose, but not nearly so loose as Smrt’s, and she wears a form-fitting vest and set of bracers. Her trousers are of a similar material - fine but utilitarian - and her hair is in crown braid and already pinned out of the way. Anna’s work, as the two tended to be the ones to tend to each other’s hair.

“Not long.” Anna picked up the coffee pot and began to pour. The heavenly aroma quickly spread and Rudolf found himself smiling. Anna filled Smrt’s cup and her own most of the way while only pouring a little in Aemilia’s cup. “Would you like some?”

Rudolf shakes his head. As lovely as the smell is, he values his siestas too much to indulge. And add to that it doesn’t taste all that good either, at least compared to what one might expect given how divine it smells. 

“Just water for me today.” Rudolf pours some in his glass as Anna sets about adding cream and sugar to the coffees. Smrt liked a little of both while Anna preferred only a little cream. Aemilia, meanwhile, was perhaps best said to to take a spoon of coffee in her milk. The chefs always sent a little pitcher of warm milk with the set just for her.

“Ehem. Coffee.”

Aemilia and Smrt do turn from the map at Anna’s announcement, and Rudolf finds himself adoring the softness in Smrt’s beautiful eyes. 

“Good Morning, Rudolf.” Smrt greets Rudolf as he sits, and Rudolf wonders if his cheeks are flushed enough to give him away. Smrt is beautiful, even more so than Rudolf thought he would be. “Did you sleep alright?”

Rudolf nods. “Yes, Majesty.” It’s so touching that Smrt always asks after such things. “I just woke up a little early.”

Smrt nods and takes a sip of his coffee. The expression on his face is indulgent and if Rudolf didn’t know better he never would have imagined that Smrt and Aemilia had been discussing affairs of state only moments before.

They spend the next few minutes in a companionable silence as Smrt, Aemilia, and Anna savor the coffee while Rudolf sips his water. When he had been a small child he’d been so suspicious of everything, even the water, wondering if there was fae magic in it. He’d been shocked the first time he’d seen and smelt the coffee to learn that unlike the majority of the food served at Smrt’s table, it was entirely human. Especially with just how enticing the smell always was. Ironic, then, that he couldn’t stand the taste. Or perhaps he just needed to follow Aemilia’s example and properly dilute the coffee.

He smiled at the thought and found a matching smile on Smrt’s lips. The king is so very beautiful, and in a way such that it never matters what he wears. Even when he’s in his full war-paint and armor there is a frightful beauty to him, but Rudolf much prefers him like this.

Aemilia gives them all nods and departs - she will have tasks to see to and were it not for whatever she had been discussing with Smrt Rudolf doubts she would have even stayed this long.

Smrt too has to depart, though he brushes a gentle kiss to Rudolf’s forehead as he does. It’s soothing, but Rudolf still longs for more.

“Shall we? I’ll walk you to your painting lesson.” Anna offers Rudolf her arm and they set out arm in arm for the gazebo in Smrt’s garden that Rudolf’s painting instructor currently calls his studio.

[sonicasura]

Persona 5: Blast Tower Scramble

You can thank this post I stumbled upon for the further ramped up version of 'Peppino being P5 Joker's Dad. Going to get my hand on Antonblast once it comes out so there might be more whacky stuff. Enjoy.

This is similar to my original post but Peppino Spaghetti AND Anton Blast are Ren's parents. I won't go into details about how our boy is born other than it was unexpected with a side of cartoon nonsense. Universe figured might as drop a kid on them like a eldritch troll. Also considering Anton's design is partly based on Oni Masks, there is a personal headcanon that he has some Japanese heritage.

The two definitely had quite an interesting time when it came to raising Ren B(last) Spaghetti. Moles somehow joined the list of animal friends much to Anton's despair. Do know he was an exterminator at the time and the underground dwellers love to mess with him on the job.

Kid Ren said 'Too bad' so Anton has to be friendly to his son's three moles: Chomp, Scratch and A.B (short for Ankle Biter). Peppino was chuckling at the irony in the background cause his husband teased him about the rats/mice/raccoons. Maxxie, Anton's dog, doesn't really care much. Ren is like a Disney Princess but the kind who would sick his animal friends on someone.

Annie is the chaotic aunt to go with Gustavo's responsible uncle schtick. Half of the money in the swear jar is from her. (Anton makes up 38% while Peppino gets the remaining 12%.) She absolutely gave him a small hammer as a little kid and encourage him to whack his Pops Anton on the toes a few times. Or gave Ren enough sugar so he will torture his parents with a sugar rush later before babysitting time is up.

There is going to be further differences with Ren thanks to this change in parents. He looks the same as a human but in toon form, his skin is sheer lobster red. The group honestly thought Ren and his dad were Tengus for a hot second. Both are mischievously destructive after all.

I'm also in the group that supports Anton being demonic headcanon so guess whose half demon! Ren's demon nature had remained dormant for most his life as he never gotten into a situation to flare it awake. Well not for long thanks to Kaneshiro's Palace!

Ren was already feeling shitty and stressed at this point. The Palace of Avarice further eggs him on since Oni type Shadows are a common enemy throughout it so they are extra hostile in a territorial manner to him. Piggytron boss is what breaks the camel's back though.

Ren's demon form definitely takes after how Anton's is usually depicted. (Haven't made my design for him sadly. 🥲) Thick black fluffy fur covering his entire lower half alongside his upper arms, side burns to go along with his now long curly mane around the neck and go down the entire back. Goat hooves replacing his toes while his fingers are replaced for razor sharp claws.

Can't forget the Oni like fangs, serpent like tongue, long spade ending obsidian tail or black with yellow slit eyes. There are differences though as some of Ren's demon form take after Arséne/Satanael. Mainly two pairs of black feathery bat wings and large horns highlighted in glowing red fiery markings.

His friends than just obvious enemies freaked out while Ren is just screaming 'FINALLY' in his head. (The boy been trying to awaken it with some help from his four year old pink little hedgehog sister.) Other than being a 10 ft(human)/12 ft(toon) devil, Ren's personality remains mostly the same except for a touch of very affectionate puppy.

This form isn't restricted by the Velvet Room Contract as it hadn't been awake at the time. Poor Sojiro since Demon Ren is a pouncing hugger when he gets the zoomies and is HEAVY. He's also a cuddler with a steel grip so good luck with that.

Ren's demon heritage does give some credibility to his other world story. It isn't the toon part although Haru still believes him. Speaking of that, Anton wasn't happy either when Ren vanished.

How he disappears is a bit different from the original version. It been out of hatred by someone hates Peppino and Anton so malicious intent remains as the main motive. Ren still punches Shido's lights out alongside camping outside Leblanc.

Anton goes after Satan thinking he's responsible while Peppino is stuck dealing with the events of Pizza Tower. Both reunite at the final Palace in Royal and help beat up Ren's former councilor. Anton is bringing in his hammer from his new demolition job.

The Golden Pizza Cutter is joined with a Silver Hammer which summons the construction worker alongside his coworker Annie. Both are heavy hitters that prioritize in striking large groups and can shatter Physical resistances with their hammer/mace. The Thieves' Den also comes with an additional mode called Ballbreaker.

A combination of Anton's sewer adventure in Anton Ball and the game's Punchball Tournament mode. Though Pops is banned from both. He had a large problem in the past that took time to get rid of. Peppino rather not fix up his pizzeria and ban his husband again.

Anton was definitely ecstatic when he found out Ren gotten his demon form. The two absolutely roughhouse like that, often dragging a reluctant Arséne into the mayhem. It's usually done away from Peppino's Pizzeria as they rather not cause the pizza chef more trouble with repairs. Anton is a bad influence on the Phantom Thieves.

He indulges in the chaotic antics with Johanna, Zorro and Goemon usually reigning him in than just the teenagers. Anton absolutely let them join in on a few shifts at his job cause why not? Getting to wreck old abandoned buildings is a nice stress reliever for humans, half demons and Persona.

Plus he can give Ren his late Christmas present. Considering Anton uses a giant hammer while Annie has a mace, he thought his son deserved his own tool of destruction. Thus Ren becomes the proud owner to a anchor sized pickaxe! Good thing Brulo added an enchantment so he could wield it in his non-toon form.

Rip the Shadows when Ren brings out his new weapon. I don't know what's worse. Being stabbed by a knife, shot in the face, or bludgeon via giant pickaxe. Although all three can happen at the same knowing how much of a chaos agent Ren is.

Anton definitely took meeting the Persona a lot better than Peppino. If he isn't trying to cheat at Tycoon, then he indulges in an game of arm wrestling or pool. No tables were harmed when Anton went against Zorro. (Complete lie as they shattered one to splinters just like that one match with Peppino.)

He loves the insane things the Phantom Thieves get into. Anton got a translated replica of their Calling Cards and figurines from the Thieve's Den Palace Maker. He was over the moon when Futaba gave him a video recording about the time his son summoned a demon lord to kill a god on Christmas Eve.

Overall Anton ramps up the shenanigans into a chaotically explosive cocktail. Hope he doesn't overdo it as Sojiro won't hesitate to ban him from Leblanc. And Coffee Dad is armed with One Shot Medjed for extra incentive.

[smollangrycat]

I Wish I Had Wings

Introductions

———————-

When OJ was young she would dream  of flying, high in the clouds where no one could catch her but sooner or later, she always had to wake up.

Groaning OJ untwisted herself from her blankets her back craving from another night on the incredibly uncomfortable bunk.  Begrudgingly, she sat up and combed her hand through her unruly copper curls, she was convinced one day her hair would throttle her in her sleep. 

She yawned, her attention wandering over to the dry laughter that made itself known from the other end of the room, a sleepy smile made its way onto OJs face. 

Trudy - “Morning sleepy head.” 

Trudy chuckled, walking over and throwing herself backwards on the rock hard bunk landing on top of OJs legs.

OJ - “Oi get off.”

The curly hair woman laughed as she halfheartedly tried to shove her friend off her legs. Trudy ignored her, getting comfortable (somehow).

Trudy - “I head we’re getting a new shipment of Science Sorties, wonder what Augustine will think of em?”

OJ wondered, Grace was definitely a character. She knew that will Grace had a hard, no nonsense exterior she was warm on the inside. She had take OJ under her wing and OJ isn’t even technically apart of the “science sorties” she’s one of the active medics on Graces team, joining when she was fifteen.  She just happened to pick up on some Pandorian fauna and ran with it. Grace supported her the entire time, encouraging her to explore Pandoras intriguing creatures.

OJs mind wondered a little of track but she soon came back to reality when Trudy elbowed her in the stomach. OJ winced slightly, slapping her friends shoulder but then it hit her. Oh shit. Her eyes widened and she jumped up, scrambling to change into her grey tank top and camo army pants (which coincidently belonged to Trudy). 

Trudy, alarmed by her friend sudden change in demeanour sat up on the bunk.

Trudy - “What? What going on, are you okey?”

OJ took a few minutes to answer as she looked around for her crocs and lab coat. They were both extra … unique, a pair of lavender crocs with little plant stickers on them and her lab coat was a faint pink colour. She tied the ends of the lab at into a bow before craving her lap top.

OJ “I said I would help Max unload the new avatars.”

Oh looked at her military grade watch that she’s drawn a happy face onto with yellow highlighter. 

OJ - “15 minutes ago.”

Trudy stood up, shaking her head while she laughed.

Trudy - “You’ve really gotta be more organised J”

She sighs in defeat, trying her best to wrestle her hair into a short pony tail. Finally she was ready! She rushed off down the corridor after hugging Trudy goodbye, hoping that there was still time to help Max unload the avatars.

She met Max just outside the lab, the avatars had been brought to them (for a change) so after she helped Max check them over she headed to her desk, her desk was covered with papers and note books as well as little bits and bobs. OJ had left out some of her research so she could finish off her most recent report on the study of  Thanators aka “Palulukan” breeding patterns and mating rituals. She got busy with her work, sticking in her wire earphones and selecting a motivational playlist.

A little while later as more people started to filter into the lab OJ decided to take a break. Unplugging her earphones and putting them to the side she stretched and walked over towards Max. He was standing next to the avatars watching their electronic charts, OJ studied the avatars for a few moments until one of them caught her eye. A make, maybe early twenties with a mischievous look on his face - she picked up his electronic chart and read the name. She faintly recognised it but couldn’t quite put her finger on who it was.

OJ - “Tom Sully”

Max visibly paused, his face changed and OJ immediately noticed. She wanted to ask why the sudden change in demeanour but instead Max hastily passed her his pad. Reading the information her eyes widened.

Thomas Sully 

22, Male

Scientist

*UPDATE*

Thomas Sully (deceased)

Avatar replacement 

Jake Sully

22, Male

Ex Marine.

OJ heart broke for this poor guy, he looses his brother and then gets shipped off to another planet. Handing the pad back to Max she stares sympathetically at the avatar. And other hour of so past, OJ buddies herself around the lab checking that her fist aid pack was fully packed and not missing anything. 

Another paramedic, Mara sat beside her checking over her own pack. She wasn’t apart of OJs group but they had grown close over the years.

Mara - “Your mom said anything to you?”

OJ froze, she hadn’t spoken to her mother in years - not since their big argument. Since then, if they ever crossed each other path Kate pretended that her daughter didn’t exist and would walk right by her without as much as a glance.

OJ - “No.”

It was short and OJ felt bad about her brashness but her mother was a topic she didn’t like discussing. Thankfully Maras attention was drawn to two men who had entered the lab. Maxes waved her over, OJ said goodbye to Mara and made her way over to her friend.

Max - “And this is OJ she’ll be the paramedic on your team.”

Max introduced to the two men. Oh recognised them, they where the riders to the avatars she had helped unload earlier. OJ waved, she shook one of the man’s hand who introduced himself as norm and then turned to the man in the wheelchair. He held his hand out for her and quirked his brow slightly.

Jake - “OJ?”

The woman laughed, rubbing the back of her neck with her free hand.

OJ - “Yeah, long story. Mostly involving Orange juice.”

The both laughed a small blush tinted OJ face. Shit, he’s really hot. Max noticed the slight rosy tint of OJ face, he smile. He had grown close to OJ over the years - she was only a teenager when she fist started working in the lab. He thought for a moment and then a mischievous smile crossed his face.

Max - “OJ why don’t you help Jake set up his video logs?”

The woman smiled completely oblivious to Maxes intentions, she was just happy to help.

OJ - “Yeah sure, follow me and I’ll get you set up.”

OJ waged him over to the station next to hers and started filling in the computer log in details. After that she got his log ready and started explaining how it works.

OJ - “You can say anything thoughts, feelings all sorts it’s mostly so you won’t lose your mind for the next six years.”

Jake nodded, in a honestly he wasn’t really paying attention. He couldn’t pull his focus from her eyes, big warm grey eyes that seemed so gentle and caring. His attention snapped back when he noticed OJ putting something on his desk, it was a little blue dinosaur with pink speckles. 

OJ - “There! Now it’s officially OJ approved.”

Jake smiled, OJ seemed odd but in the best kind of way. He picked up the little dinosaur inspecting it, it was carved from wood and it looked kinda rough up close but you could see the care and effort that went into it. OJ must have noticed him starting at the little wooden thing because she covered her eyes and sighed.

OJ - “Oh Eywa, I’m so sorry! Your gunna think I’m a compleat space case, I promise I’m not. I give one to every newbie in the lab so they have something to personalise they’re desk with.”

Jake looked at her with confusion, how could he not like this little dinosaur? It was hella cute and anyone would be lucky to revive something that thoughtful on their first day.

Jake - “No I like it, it’s gunna be my second in command”

OJ smiled.

OJ - “Honestly, it won’t offend me if you don’t like it I kinda jumped the ball with it.”

Jake put on a mock offended look.

Jake - “You better show some respect to my second in command.”

He laughed while he said it, making OJ smile more. She mock saluted the little dinosaur.

OJ - “My apologies lance corporal sir.”

Once they where finished laughing at OJ silly antics, Jake got lost in her eyes again but then he got curious - how did she know marine ranks? 

Before he could ask the moment was interrupted by Grace coming out of her link pod.

Grace - “Where’s my god damn cigarette? Guys, what is wrong with this picture?”

OJ watched as another scientist rushed to grab Graces lab coat, lighter and a cigarette.

OJ - “Morning sleeping beauty.”

Grace playfully rolled her eyes at OJ antics. 

All four of them moved closer to the link pods, Max and Norm introduced Jake to Graces reputation and when they finally meet grace by the link pods Max introduced Grace to both Norm and Jake.

Grace talked to Norm about his Na’vi and she was quite impressed but gave him a few pointers. Her expression changed when she looked at Jake.

Max introduced Jake and Grace stood annoyance resisting from her body language. 

Jake - “Ma’am”

Grace - “Yeah, yeah. I know who you are, and I don’t need you. I need your brother”

OJ winced at the look on Jakes face.

OJ - “Grace.”

She tried but was ignored as the older woman continued.

Grace - “I know the PhD who trained for three years for this mission.”

Jake - “He’s dead. I know it’s a big inconvenience for everyone.”

Graces eyes widen slightly before she regains her original composure.

Grace - “How much lab training have you had?”

Jake - “I dissected a frog once.”

OJ totally caught of guard burst out laughing but after she sees the pointed look Grace give her she is quick to shut up.

Grace annoyed by the hole situation, declares that she is going to see Selfrig as she is sick of having the shit taken out of her.

Grace - “You see? There pissing in use without even the Curtiss of calling it rain.”

Max tried to stop her but it was to no avail and after giving a few words of wisdom to Jake he left. At some point Norm had also left, probably introducing himself to the other scientists.

OJ and Jake spent the rest of the day talking. Ok asked him about his time on earth and Jake asked her about her time on Pandora, by the time they were finished it was late and they both headed their separate ways. When OJ finally got back to her room a goofy smiled stayed in her face all night. 

———————

@mxyz-nex

@inutheangel

@abbersreads

@mashiromochi

@emery-aka-emmy

@octavias-next-meat-bite

@sophiexoxo-lol

@ksata

@just-another-queer-writer

@quietshyashlyn19

@kitkat27

[persoc30]

Kinktober Day 11 - Symbiote / Null Bulge

“Hmm, how best to explain it to you…” The demon sat in thought, her muzzle resting on one hand, the other idly running a talon around the rim of her glass. “How bout this, you’re from a magic and monsters kinda world right?” She lazily gestured to her drinking buddy with a third claw.

“I… suppose so? I’ve never really thought about it in those terms.” The small, mousey haired human maid with a sword strapped to her back responded. “Are other worlds not like that?”

“Nah, there’s worlds out there people go their whole lives not seeing a monster.” The demonic messenger, known as Chainmail to anyone who didn’t get to know their True names, took a sip of their drink. After expertly pouring the drink between the unmoving exposed fangs on her muzzle she continued. ”But that’s not the point. You ever run into like, a suit of armor that’s possessed, or mechanical or just, kinda alive?”

“A time or two, yes. Possessed and mechanical at least.” The maid replied, lost in thought. In the demon queen’s realm even mortals were encouraged to keep their true names close to their chests, and she had the misfortune to end up with the teasing nickname ‘Hero’ after the embarrassing events that led her to be indentured to the queen. She was still trying to process the idea of worlds without monsters.

“There you go then. We’re actually two demons, and I, me Chain the one you’re talking too, am basically one of those. A living suit of armor!” She gestured at their body, a smooth glossy purple torso and limbs covered in a thick, leathery, almost insect like black armor and ending in sharp taloned hands and feet. Behind their back were two pairs of bat-like wings, one pair currently folded to act as an extra pair of arms, and a long segmented tail. Above the bulky collar that covered her entire neck and collarbones was a green face, mostly covered by a muzzle shaped like permanently snarling fangs, and surrounded by short black hair and massive bull horns where a human’s ears would be. “Most everything you see is me, and more or less what I looked like on my own. But the exposed bits of face are Mail! She’s my, I guess partner? Host?”

The maid took a moment to nurse her own drink and gather her thoughts before responding. “That makes quite a few things make more sense. I suppose that means when you were muttering to yourself when we fought that was you speaking to her?”

“Yep! I can talk directly to her but when I’m stressed it’s easier to just talk out loud and let her hear it.”

Hero took another thoughtful sip. “You said what you looked like, were you not always like this?”

“Yeah, originally we were just two demons fooling around. I distracted Mail from doing her job as royal messenger one or ten times too many, and the queen decided to punish us by turning me into this. I think her specific terms were ‘Now you can distract her as much as you like, but you bear all the responsibility for making sure her job is done.’ Honestly we’re both pretty happy with it so we think she was doing a, ironic punishment that’s secretly a win-win kinda thing.”

“So because of your irresponsibility she’s a prisoner in her own body?”

“Hey I’ll have you know she had her fair share of irresponsibility. But nah, I can let her go anytime, like whenever one of us needs a break. Just need another host to wear me if I wanna be able to do anything worthwhile.” A mischievous glint in her eyes didn’t escape Hero’s notice. “Speaking of, you wanna meet her?”

At a cautious nod from Hero the muzzle on Chainmail’s face snapped slightly open. Steam poured out from between the no longer interlinked fangs, and threads of drool linked the jaws as they smoothly resumed separating. The lower jaw and apparently attached tongue retreated down to meet their collar, and as the upper jaw rose the face beneath it began to… change as it passed. An open, panting mouth with a thin line of drool in corner. A blush that hadn’t been there before on freckled cheeks. But the biggest change was the eyes. Before they’d been cocky and direct, but when the fangs passed over them they became unfocused and almost glazed, staring into the middle distance. The exposed face was softer and cuter than Hero had expected would be under that mask.

“Wh- Where’d Master’s tongue go? Please… please Master I’ve been good! I’ll do anything please just let me c- Wait, aren't you that-” With a snap the fangs sealed back up and the eyes above them were once again filled with teasing confidence. Almost daring the maid to say anything.

“Isn’t she cute?”

[rowan-sins]

𝕸𝖆𝖙𝖈𝖍𝖚𝖕 𝖋𝖔𝖗 @fijiflower​

𝕿𝖍𝖎𝖘 𝖎𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖙𝖈𝖍𝖚𝖕 (4) 𝖔𝖚𝖙 𝖔𝖋 (10)

𝕿𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊 𝖆𝖗𝖊 (6) 𝖘𝖑𝖔𝖙𝖘 𝖑𝖊𝖋𝖙

This world is new to you, the islands, the waves, the breeze in your hair. It’s all foreign. But the sun shines so bright from between the leaves of Nami’s tangerine tree. They light up your face, her face, as you both lounge quietly in the afternoon on the going sunny.

She’s smart and savvy, and the both of you click together immediately. Did you meet because she had the gutsiness to steal your wallet, and you had the grit to chase her back for it? Maybe. But it was truly love at first sight on that dock. She proposed a game to win your wallet back, and when you just snatched it straight out of her hand mid-sentence, she knew that she needed more of you in her life.

You both share a common love for the nice things in life. Money, shopping, being served bubbly beverages by a certain blond tripping over you. At the core, you’re both incredibly similar souls. And friendship, that’s such an important thing to the both of you. Above all else you’d do anything for your friends, for her friends, as you join her family and become their nakama as well.

You share mischievous grins before sneaking off the One Thousand Sunny to go shopping, or before sneaking into the kitchen for a second helping of breakfast (that marmalade was so good, you can’t help but want a little bit extra on that freshly sliced sourdough… and maybe an egg too). You help her do her hair in the morning, and design fun dresses for her to wear, and she makes maps that lead you to the most scenic sunsets (“Oh would you look at that!” she exclaims with joy, “there’s already a picnic basket for the two of us.” You can’t help the laugh you let out at that, Nami, forever your love, trying to act like she didn’t plan this.)

Ask her to steal for you. Please ask her to steal for you. Her fingers are itching for matching diamond rings and gold necklaces and pearl strings longer than your wing-span. She has a treasure chest of jewelry, that she shares with you, and only you. (“You look good in that necklace! Where’d you find it?” She’ll ask, knowing full well you snatched it off her dresser this morning. You kiss her cheek as you slink by, and watch her melt into the railing of the ship. “Where I find the rest of my jewelry,” you throw over your shoulder before slide through the gap of the door into the kitchen.)

The two of you click together, like gears in a clock, or the lid on a bottle. You match like two pairs of socks and if people couldn’t see the mutual longing in your eyes for each other, than they would think your twins, or two halves of the same, very strong beautiful person. But her hand on your shoulder, well manicured nails almost digging into the soft skin tell the story well enough itself, they’re mine back off!

[thethreebroomsticksficfest]

Countdown

Day 3 is the first submission from one of our mods. Read it on AO3 here

Title: Countdown

Author: StarlingFlight

Pairing: Harry/Ginny

Warnings: None

Prompt: Advent Calendar 

“Does this mean we can put the tree up?” Ginny asked hopefully as she and Harry exited the tiny brick archway which separated the courtyard of the Leaky Cauldron from Diagon Alley. 

Harry sighed in affected exasperation as he took in the festoons of holly bunched in the shop windows, the garlands wrapped cheerfully around the lampposts, the wreaths hung upon each of the shop doors. 

“It’s not even December yet,” he reminded her, though in truth he already knew the battle was lost. 

“What’s two extra days?” Ginny asked, waving a gloved hand in front of her face. “Teddy’s staying over tomorrow. Imagine how much fun he’ll have decorating - he’s old enough to properly appreciate it all this year.” 

“Are you using my godson to manipulate me?” Harry asked, trying and failing to conceal his smirk as he looked down at her beseechingly.

Ginny smiled mischievously back at him.  Her cheeks glowed rosily in the frosty winter air and her eyes sparkled with excitement. She was practically skipping up the street. “Is it working?” 

“You have to explain to him that Father Christmas isn’t coming for another month,” Harry warned, mentally preparing himself to spend the next month answering constant questions about the progress of Santa and his elves. 

Ginny, however, seemed unconcerned about potentially being driven to the brink of insanity by an overzealous four year old. She smiled triumphantly as she tugged on Harry’s hand and guided him into Quality Quidditch Supplies. There, they gazed happily at the flashy new Firebolt model that had been released in time for the Christmas rush, treated themselves to some new wood polish that advertised itself as warming, so their hands wouldn’t get cold flying in bad weather, and deliberated on whether or not it was lazy to buy Ron more Chudley Cannons merchandise for Christmas. Harry was quite happy to go home then, and leave the rest of the Christmas shopping to later in the season - preferably as late as he could get away with - but Ginny insisted that they visit ‘just one more shop.’ 

Three hours later, laden with more bags than Harry could count, the two of them exited Eeylops Owl Emporium. Two large bags of owl treats had been added to their haul. 

“Can we go now?” Harry asked as they exited the busy shop. “Your mum will kill us if we’re late.” 

A stinging wing whipped at his cheek the moment he stepped out into the street. He pulled Ginny closer to him, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and pressing her warmth against him. 

“Can we stop in at Sugarplum’s first?” Ginny asked, already guiding Harry through the throngs of shoppers in the direction of the sweet shop. 

“Don’t tell me you’re out of Fizzing Whizbees again?” Harry asked, allowing himself to be led down the street. “I got you that massive box at Halloween -”

“I’m not out of Whizbees,” Ginny said as Sugarplum’s pink trimmed storefront came into view. 

“Did Ron eat all the chocolate frogs?” Harry asked, trying to mask his mild annoyance. “I told him he needs to tell Hermione she’s not in charge of his sugar intake.” 

Ginny simply shook her head as they passed through the threshold to the sweet shop. A toasty blast of air enveloped Harry as he stepped inside and he recognised the welcoming effects of a warming charm. 

Sugarplum’s was almost full to bursting. Children hung off their parent’s arms, begging for their favourite treats. An elderly couple stood beside the shelves of fudge loudly debating which flavour cousin Elsie would prefer, and teenagers dressed in deep green aprons hurried about the place summoning items or else replacing them back on their shelves. 

Ginny moved with purpose towards the far row of shelves, around which a small crowd seemed to have gathered. The shelves in this part of the shop towered all the way to the ceiling and contained a variety of narrow cardboard boxes, the front of each was covered in numbered flaps and decorated with moving pictures. 

“Aren’t you a bit old for an advent calendar?” Harry asked, his eyebrows raised expectantly at Ginny. 

“Which one do you think Teddy will like?”  Ginny asked, ignoring his comment and keeping her eyes fixed on the display before her. “If we get him one he’ll know exactly how long until Father Christmas gets here.” 

Harry turned his attention back to the selection, scrutinising the designs upon each with utmost seriousness now he understood the task at hand. 

The styles varied wildly from shelf to shelf. A group of children building a snowman, fairies fluttering around a lavishly decorated christmas tree, Santa’s sleigh being pulled by a herd of hippogriffs. 

“Oh, I think he’d love this one,” Harry said gleefully, pulling a green and gold advent calendar from the shelf. Ginny’s face smiled up at him from the front of it along with the rest of the Harpies team, each of them wearing tinsel around their neck in place of a scarf. 

“I think he’d rather have this,” Ginny said with a disappointing lack of indignance. She withdrew her wand and summoned a calendar from the highest shelf, catching it deftly and immediately waving it in Harry’s face.

He groaned, recognising his own untidy black hair and lightning bolt scar in an instant. The Santa hat placed jauntily atop his head, however, was entirely unfamiliar to him. “Where did they even get that?” he demanded. “I’ve never worn a hat like that!” 

Ginny shrugged as though the use of Harry’s likeness without his permission to sell novelty items was of no concern to her. “Just think how pleased Teddy will be to slowly tear your face open in search of chocolate! Very festive!” 

“I’m sure that won’t traumatise him,” Harry said dryly. 

He reached over and plucked the calendar depicting his face from Ginny’s grasp; taking care to hide it at the very back of a stack of Chudley Cannons calendars he was reasonably confident no one but Ron would ever buy. 

“What about this one?” Ginny asked as Harry turned back towards her. She held another calendar up for him to inspect. This one was bright blue and held a picture of a niffler under a christmas tree surrounded by shining baubles, glittering gold coins and shimmering tinsel. “He’s been carrying that stuffed niffler everywhere with him recently.” 

“Digby,” Harry supplied, having received a very strong lecture from Ted only two days ago about not addressing the niffler by his given name. 

“Exactly,” Ginny agreed. “He even insisted on taking Digby in the bath the other night.” 

“I had to make him his own bowl of cereal for breakfast on Monday morning.” 

Ginny smiled fondly at Harry’s admission. “Well, in that case, I think the niffler is the only way to go.” 

**

Ginny was proven correct the very next afternoon. 

Teddy’s arrival through the fireplace was accompanied by an excited ‘hello!’ bellowed so loudly Harry heard it from his office on the floor above. 

He hurried downstairs and found Teddy standing in front of the sofa in the living room, Digby the niffler clutched securely in his arm. Andromeda stood behind him, her hand held firmly against Teddy’s shoulder. 

“Hello,” Harry said in greeting, crouching down and opening his arms to pull Teddy into a hug. “Have you been good for Granny?” 

“We’re a bit overexcited,” Andromeda said before Teddy could answer. “There was an advert for a make your own potions kit on the wireless.” 

Harry immediately felt Teddy begin to quiver with excitement in his arms. His hair turned from a sedate brown to luminous green, as it always did when he was particularly excited.

“Can we write my letter to Santa?” Teddy asked, his small features arranged into a serious frown. “And can I use Stacey to send it to the North Pole, please?” 

“I think that can be arranged.” Ginny’s voice sounded from behind Harry. He turned to find her levitating several dust-covered cardboard boxes with bits of tinsel and paper chains sticking out of the top. With a flick of her wand, she settled them on the floor. 

“Decorations?” Andromeda asked, eyeing the boxes skeptically. “Isn’t it a bit early?”

“You would think,” Harry said, earning him a reproachful glare from Ginny. 

Teddy seemed not to have heard him. He extracted himself from Harry’s grasp and hurried over to the far side of the room, where Ginny was already extracting baubles and ribbon from one of the boxes, scattering bits of glitter and dust around the room. 

“Are you really putting the decorations up?” he asked, peering excitedly into the box nearest him and extracting a particularly sparkly bauble. “Can I help?” 

“That’s the plan,” Ginny said, ruffling a hand fondly through his bright hair. “And we got you a surprise.” 

Teddy paused with his hand in the box of decorations, looking trepidatiously between Harry and Andromeda as though searching for confirmation that what Ginny had said was true. 

“We did,” Harry agreed, unable to contain his smile at the look of pure delight on Teddy’s face. “It was Ginny’s idea - she can give it to you.” 

Teddy turned back to Ginny who was smiling almost as widely as Harry. She flicked her wand and summoned the red and white striped Sugarplum’s bag from the kitchen. 

“This is to help you count the days until Santa gets here,” she explained, holding the bag just slightly out of Ted’s reach. “You can’t open it until tomorrow when it’s December, alright?” 

Teddy nodded vigorously in understanding. Digby the niffler was now squeezed so closely to his chest that Harry was concerned his head might need reattaching later. 

Ginny shared a glance with Harry and Andromeda, both of whom nodded in confirmation, before lowering the bag and handing it to Teddy. Ginny’s hand had barely left the bag before Teddy was tearing it excitedly open. 

“It’s Digby!” he cried excitedly, before carefully setting down the stuffed Niffler, freeing his hand to properly inspect his new present at arms length. 

“Granny, have you seen?” Teddy asked, his eyes moving excitedly from the advent calendar to Andromeda. “It’s Digby!” 

“I can see!” Andromeda said, smiling indulgently down at him. “Do you know what it is?” 

“It’s Digby!” Teddy said once more, looking to Harry as though for reassurance that this was as obvious as he thought it was. 

Harry smiled to himself as he crouched down in front of Teddy. Savouring, just for a moment, the smell of cookies Ginny had baked earlier this morning, the soft lilt of Christmas songs coming from the wireless and the look of joy on his Godson’s face. 

“It’s an advent calendar, Ted,” Harry explained, reaching over to point at each of the numbered doors. “Behind each of these is a chocolate, once you’ve eaten all the chocolates it’s time for Santa to come - but you can’t open it until tomorrow.” 

Teddy’s cherubic face suddenly turned serious. For one heart-wrenching moment Harry worried he’d said something wrong, something to ruin the magic of Christmas. “With presents?” 

Harry bit his lip to keep from laughing as relief washed through him. “I don’t know,” he said slowly, looking at Andromeda. “What do you think, is he on the nice list?” 

Andromeda folded her arms across her chest, giving Teddy a shrewd look as she did so. “There was the incident with Victoire the other day -” 

“She started it!” Teddy cried, his tiny hands bunching into fists around the edges of his advent calendar as his hair turned a violent red. “She took Digby even after I told her not to!” 

“I thought we talked about sharing?” Harry reminded him, trying his best to maintain a stern expression. 

“But she’s just a baby and she gets everything sticky!” 

“Well, we can’t have that can we?” Ginny said smoothly, leaning down to scoop Digby up and inspect him closely. “He looks fine to me, but if you’re sure he’s dirty; Digby can get in the bath with you later.” 

Teddy brightened at this. “Can we have a bath now?” 

For a moment, Harry was sorely tempted to say yes. Getting Teddy into the bath had been a struggle recently and it seemed foolish to let such an opportunity go to waste. One look at Ginny, however, and Harry knew it was not to be. 

“You could go in the bath now,” she said evenly. “Or you could help Harry and I decorate the Christmas tree.” 

“I can help?” Teddy repeated, his eyes glistening with excitement. 

“Yes,” Andromeda agreed. “But you have to listen to what Harry and Ginny tell you and you have to be careful with the ornaments.” 

Teddy nodded solemnly in understanding. Harry plucked the Advent calendar out of his grip and placed it on the fireplace ready for Teddy to open the first door in the morning. 

“Do you want to stay for some hot chocolate?” Ginny asked Andromeda, who had begun to gather her handbag from the sofa. 

“No, thank you,” Andromeda said, already making her way towards the door and past the apparition wards. “I’ve got lunch plans and plenty of Christmas shopping to get done this weekend. Teddy, come and give me a kiss.” 

Teddy did as he was bid, throwing his arms around Andromeda’s legs in a tight hug before allowing her to bend down and kiss him lovingly on the cheek. 

“Be good,” she said. “Or Santa won’t come at all!” 

“I will!” Teddy promised, his back already turned in the direction of the decorations and the bare tree as he waved behind him in Andromeda’s general direction. 

The fireplace whooshed as Andromeda disappeared. Ginny waved her wand in the direction of the wireless, causing the dials to spin and increasing the volume of the jingling Christmas songs. Harry moved quickly to Teddy’s side. The top half of him had been lost to one of the boxes, so intent was he on clambering inside and pulling out every decoration he could reach. 

The living room quickly descended into chaos. Ginny seemed happy to follow Teddy’s lead when it came to decorating and Harry was quite content to watch the two of them, though it certainly wasn’t resulting in anything like the carefully coordinated decor he had grown up with at Privet Drive, nor the grand elegance he’d been used to seeing at Hogwarts. 

Tinsel was draped haphazardly over the windowsill and the back of the armchair, the star which usually sat atop the tree had been given pride of place in the centre of the mantelpiece and the colourful array of baubles had not been dotted artfully around the branches, but rather bunched at the bottom of the tree where Teddy could reach. 

“Are you sure you don’t want us to put any a bit higher for you?” Harry offered, a blue and silver bauble poised ready in his hand.

“No,” Teddy said without hesitation. “I want it here.” He took the bauble from Harry and placed it on the very bottom branch beside all the others. 

Harry caught Ginny’s eye just in time to see her lift her mug of hot chocolate to her lips. Amusement sparkled in her eyes and her shoulders shook with silent laughter. 

“Doesn’t the top of the tree look a bit bare, though?” Harry tried again, struggling to suppress a laugh of his own. 

“No,” Teddy said simply, already walking to the other side of the room in order to place a snowman figurine inexplicably on the carpet beside the sofa. 

The sky outside the window had turned dark by the time Teddy declared the decorations complete. Harry surveyed his living room; it looked as though a tornado had stormed through it, throwing Christmas decorations about at random. 

“Bath time then!” Ginny said, gesturing for Teddy to lead the way upstairs. 

“Digby can come too?” Teddy asked, clutching Digby - who had acquired a festive red and white striped ribbon around his neck - close to his chest. 

“Yes,” Harry agreed. He stepped carefully over a hand painted red and blue nutcracker, which usually stood on the table beside the wireless but had now been placed beside the doorway for reasons known only to Teddy. 

“I’ll straighten up,” Ginny whispered as Harry passed her and began to follow Teddy upstairs to the bathroom. 

Bathtime passed in a rush of splashed water. Harry somehow ended up wetter than Digby who had been pulled into the tub by Teddy, intent on giving the stuffed niffler a swimming lesson. 

Finally, Harry pulled Teddy out of the bath and wrapped him securely in a fluffy towel only to discover little specks of gold and red glitter still dotted his skin. Sighing resignedly, Harry used his wand to dry Digby and corralled Teddy towards his bedroom. 

Three readings of Three Little Hippogriffs later, Harry left a softly sleeping Teddy tucked securely in his bed. His Navy blue duvet, dotted with snoring dragons, was tucked up to his chin. Digby peeked out from beneath Teddy’s arm. 

The living room had been returned to some semblance of order. Ginny had moved the randomly placed ornaments so that they were no longer trip hazards, the star now sat high on the tree and the tinsel had been draped artfully around the room. 

“Better?” she asked as Harry fell onto the sofa, exhausted but content. 

“I see you didn’t bother moving the baubles.” 

Ginny looked appraisingly at the half-decorated tree, her hands behind her back and a smile upon her face. “It has a certain charm,” she said decidedly. 

“It does,” Harry agreed. His thoughts drifted to Teddy, sleeping peacefully upstairs after a day of fun and laughter, completely secure in the knowledge that Harry would be there in the night if he needed him. 

Ginny removed one hand from behind her, waving a gathering of green leaves and white berries in Harry’s direction and pulling him from his thoughts. “I didn’t put this up,” she said, coming to sit on the sofa beside him. 

“Best not,” Harry said seriously, leaning towards her as Ginny lifted her arm to dangle the mistletoe above them. “I don’t want to get caught under it with Ron again.” 

Her responding laughter was cut off as Harry’s lips met hers. Ginny’s hand released the mistletoe; it fluttered to the carpet. Her hand slid into his hair, pulling Harry closer. He moved instinctively, his hands exploring her body. 

It had been a day unlike any he’d dared to wish for when he was younger, one he was sure he would not have been able to imagine even if he tried. The decorations were not worthy of Witch Weekly but they had been placed with love and joy by the two people who meant the most to him. 

He kissed Ginny now, allowing himself to sink into her embrace. Here, in this moment, with the fire crackling merrily in the hearth, the lights of the Christmas tree glowing softly behind them and Teddy sleeping safely upstairs Harry felt utterly at peace. 

**

Harry was awoken the next morning by weak winter sunlight filtering through the curtain of the bedroom. The duvet was bunched securely around him and Ginny’s warmth radiated from beside him. 

“I think Teddy’s up,”  she whispered softly as Harry wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her closer. 

The words had barely left Ginny’s mouth before a series of small thuds could be heard from the living room below. Harry buried his head in the crook of Ginny’s neck, yawning widely and catching a hint of her floral shampoo. 

“I’ll go,” he said, pressing a kiss to her temple before rolling out of bed. 

“I’ll be down in a minute,” Ginny said, stretching languidly. 

Harry retrieved his dressing gown from the back of the door, pulling it on and knotting the belt about his waist. “Don’t rush,” he said to Ginny before slipping out the door. 

The sounds from the living room became louder as Harry descended the stairs. Teddy’s hushed voice travelled to him though Harry couldn’t make out what he was saying over the melodic rhythm emanating from the wireless which he had presumably switched on. A curious tearing sound could also be heard; Harry sped up, unable to work out what the source of such a noise could be. 

The source of the ripping noise became apparent the moment he pushed open the door to the living room. Teddy stood in front of the fireplace, still wearing the violently orange Canons pyjamas Ron had bought for him at the start of the Quidditch season. Digby had been placed carefully at his slippered feet and all around his mouth was the sticky residue of what Harry recognised instantly as chocolate. 

Teddy grinned happily from beneath the chocolate. The advent calendar that Ginny had given him yesterday was clutched in his hand, the little cardboard doors stuck haphazardly open. 

“Did you eat them all?” Harry asked, quickly crossing the room and kneeling in front of Teddy. 

“No,” Teddy said, holding out the calendar for Harry to take, which he did. “I saved the last one for you.” Teddy pointed to the final unopened door in the centre of the calendar. 

“You were only supposed to eat one!” Harry said, disbelievingly. He could hear Ginny begin to move on the floor above but he was barely paying attention. 

Teddy frowned at him, as though he too couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. “You said when I ate all of the chocolates Father Christmas would come.” 

Harry paused for a moment, his mind replaying the conversation he’d had with Teddy yesterday at double speed. “Right,” he agreed after a moment. “but you’re only supposed to open one a day.” 

Teddy’s face clouded further with confusion at this. “But then it’ll be ages before he gets here.” 

“He always comes on the twenty-fifth of December,” Harry explained, fighting the urge to laugh. “The chocolates are just to help you count down.” 

Teddy looked between Harry and the almost-empty calendar, his eyes growing wide with horror. “But I’ve eaten them all!” he cried. “I won’t know when Father Christmas is coming!” 

“It’s alright,” Harry said soothingly. Footsteps on the stairs signalled Ginny’s imminent arrival. “We can go to Diagon Alley later and get you a new one.” 

Teddy relaxed instantly at Harry’s reassurance. His arms wrapped tightly around Harry’s neck just as the door opened to admit Ginny. 

“Everything alright?” she asked, her gaze travelling from Teddy locked firmly into Harry’s embrace to the open advent calendar still clutched in Harry’s hand. 

“Yes,” Harry replied. His arms tightened around Teddy as he lifted him up and carried him over to sit beside Ginny who had headed straight for the sofa. “Just a small misunderstanding about how advent calendars work.” 

“You left Digby!” Teddy announced, climbing off of Harry’s lap the moment he sat down in order to retrieve the stuffed niffler from the floor. 

“I take it we’re going to Diagon Alley later?” Ginny asked quietly, looking at the empty calendar in amusement. 

“Yeah,” Harry said, smiling back at her. “He saved me the last one.” 

Ginny’s fingers pried open the final door on the calendar. She extracted the small chocolate Christmas tree inside and handed it to Harry who popped it into his mouth. “I’m not surprised,” she said. “He loves you very much.” 

Harry’s gaze wandered to Teddy who now sat in front of the fireplace, muttering softly to Digby about the proper usage of advent calendars. Harry’s smile grew as he watched him. “I love him too.” 

[royallyjoon]

nephilim (cinq)

you know where the cred goes 💙

cult au, supernatural creature au

yandere bts x f! reader

warnings: yandere themes, physical assault, graphic descriptions of violence, manipulation, (slight) gaslighting

you were left, abandoned by mortals and immortals alike. darkness knows no bounds, and neither does punishment. there is no refuge in neither blood nor flesh from its wrath. if darkness welcomes you, should you open your arms to it in return? if darkness turns you away, does that mean you’ve won? should you choose to cast aside this lonely path of yours, and your conviction along with it, regardless of whatever other horrors lie in wait, you will be saved. 

——————————————————————

What is one to do when they hear the words they’ve feared the most leave someone else’s mouth?

The moment they graced Jin’s eardrums, he gripped his phone so tightly he could hear the glass screen crack. 

He and Yoongi had been assisting their father in the woods with preparations for the next meeting, the ominous hour approaching in no less than ten days.

He ignored Moonsik and Yoongi for a moment to answer his phone. 

“Hello?”

He could barely make out any of Jimin’s words--the boy’s blubbering masked too much of the information.

“Robotics...bathroom...”

“Jimin, I can’t hear anything over the sound of you crying. What’s going on?”

“(Y/N)...rooftop...Aemilia...”

“What are you trying to say?” Yoongi stopped talking to the older man, shifting his gaze toward his elder brother as he noticed Jin’s voice raise in irritation and concern.

“Blood...”

“Blood?!”

——————————————————————

Jimin had walked out of robotics a little early today, bored to tears.

He had felt much better after getting rid of the idiotic gaggle that dared to threaten you, and threaten him into abandoning you.

He should have known it wouldn’t be enough. He should’ve never left your side, he thought as he kneeled on the rooftop, staring forlornly at the pool of partially dried blood on the concrete.

“She was bleeding, hyung. Aemilia or her people must have taken her, but I have no idea where they went.”

Namjoon had been in the middle of a meeting with the school board, representing the student council.

Hoseok had been in the dance studio, barking orders out at somewhat competent underclassmen.

Jungkook and Taehyung were holed up in the younger’s room, playing games rather than doing any actual work.

In short, none of them were prepared. None of them had been there for you as they had promised.

You trusted them when you needed them most, and they left you high and dry.

Jimin felt like he would never be able to get the disappointment and guilt off of his chest.

——————————————————————

Namjoon bounded into the clearing, his usually polished exterior uncharacteristically tarnished. 

Hoseok appeared not long after him, having raced to the woods the moment he received the news.

They were met by Seokjin and Yoongi, who stood with their arms crossed over their chests, near a miserable Jungkook and a pacing Taehyung. Both boys had been in the house, so they were the first to arrive.

Jimin got there last, his hands and uniform pants stained red from the puddle he had kneeled in on the rooftop.

Six pairs of eyes landed on him and his appearance, confirming the worst.

“Three!” Seokjin cried incredulously. “Three of you were on campus, surrounded by a bunch of humans, and not a single one of you managed to keep an eye on her!”

“She could be anywhere,” Jungkook groaned in fear. 

“By all means, please don’t start caring now. It’s too late.” Yoongi snapped at him. “You and Taehyung drove straight home to do absolutely nothing. You could at least have offered her a ride home and ensured that she was safe. You’re just as responsible as they are.”

Jungkook’s eyes grew glassy, but only because he knew his brother was right. 

“As much as you enjoy playing the blame game, we have more pressing matters to address.” Namjoon interjected in an attempt to calm them down.

“That doesn’t even begin to cover it, Namjoon.” Seokjin’s icy tone sent a chill down their backs. “If we really wanted to play the blame game, we would have recognized how this is all your fault.”

The leader stood in tense silence.

“What did I tell you mere hours before this happened?” He continued, walking toward Namjoon until they were face to face. “I told you to get your shit together and to keep that girl in line. Hell, none of this would have happened if we hadn’t followed your idiotic plan in the first place.”

Seokjin was rarely ever angry enough to hiss in his brother’s face. They had all learned a long time ago that to provoke the oldest was to invoke Death.

“We all agreed his plan was the best choice at the time, hyung.” Yoongi cautiously approached the two and lay a hand on Seokjin’s shoulder, leveling a glare of his own at Namjoon. “We can deal with him later. We need to find her first.”

Jimin took the opportunity to step further into the clearing and brandished his phone, the device still open to his messages. “(Y/N) texted me saying Aemilia invited her up to roof and that she assumed it was for a confrontation of some sort.” 

“Aemilia doesn’t have the ability or strength to do damage like that by herself, though.” Taehyung frowned as he gestured to Jimin’s clothes. “Unless...”

The brothers looked at each other in realization and one by one, rushed out the clearing and out the forest. 

A quick drive to the center of the city and one pitifully short interrogation later, their suspicions were settled.

Hoseok growled as he re-entered the van, slamming the car door shut. “How dare he? When did he gain the courage to mobilize our own forces without our knowledge?”

“Never mind Augustus,” Jimin said, although his eyes blazed with anger. “Where would they take her?”

“That dog wouldn’t have taken her to the normal base, she has far too much malicious intent for (Y/N).” Taehyung growled.

Jungkook lightly tapped his fingers on the car door, looking out the window when the thought hit him.

“You don’t think they’d take her to...?”

His brothers looked at him in confusion, but he pointed out the window at the tree line of the woods. 

Having grown up in those woods, they knew it like the back of their hand. 

They knew the places were young townspeople would go to goof off, the places they had claimed for themselves, and the places that were...strictly off-limits.

It didn’t take much longer for the realization to set in.

Once it had, they took off in the direction of the forest.

——————————————————————

In your dream, you once again stood before Ichabod Chapel.

The Chapel, adorned with green vines, had long since been abandoned. Once, the walls must have been a beautiful ivory, but now they were a dark beige, having rotted with time.

A complete opposite to the image of the decrepit church, the seven Kim brothers stood on the ground in front of the entrance, visions dressed in various black silks.

Contrary to its original purpose, the material looked anything but light and airy--in fact, it looked as though it was weighed down or soaked, doused in some unknown substance.

You looked down to see that you were dressed in a white, ceremonial outfit. It billowed out like a ball gown, the sleeves drawing lacy patterns swirling up to your thumb. 

When you looked up, you were stunned by the brilliant, black wings that extended from the backs of the seven men before you. 

The sight of their wings enraptured you, those gorgeous appendages, feathers glossy under the moonlight.

Each of them had their own, unique set, varying in shapes and sizes, though the largest pair of wings belonged to none other than Kim Namjoon, who stood in the center of his brothers, hands in his pocket as he flashed you a familiar, mischievous grin.

Namjoon was the first to step out of the line, casually extending his hand out to you, and you hesitantly raised a dainty, (s/c) hand in return, placing it in his.

He pulled you into his arms and you felt him wrap them around you.

His brothers came to circle around the two of you, eventually joining the hug as well. 

Then, the whispers began.

Their tone was loving, though their words were anything but.

They were desperate, consuming, obsessive, threatening. 

They wanted you to love them, they needed you to love them, why couldn’t you understand? 

Your head pounded, filled to the brim with cruel promises of tenderness and affection.

The substance from their silks seeped into your clothes, rapidly staining your white outfit red.

You realized just what it was that they were doused in and tried to pull away from their arms but they surrounded you, locking you into their hold. 

The harder you fought to get out, the tighter they held on to you until you felt as though you couldn’t breathe.

Things were better this way. There’s nothing they wouldn’t do to protect you.  There’s nothing they wouldn’t do for your love.

How could you scorn their love for you? How could you treat them like this?

 They didn’t want to hurt anyone you cared about. They didn’t want to eliminate everyone you love in order to bring you to their side, but they would if they had to. 

They paid no mind to the way you were drowning in the smell of it, drowning in blood. Was it yours or someone else’s? Was it your mother’s? Mana’s?

All you knew was that they were done playing games.

——————————————————————

Your eyes flashed open and you winced as you immediately wished they hadn’t.

Your head pounded, each thump forcing your eyes shut with the intensity, still not having recovered from the several hits it received. 

For a moment it felt as though you were still unconscious and drenched in darkness, as when you tried to get a glimpse of your surroundings, you only saw shadows and moving, ambiguous shapes. 

The movement of the ground beneath you, however, quickly dispelled such thoughts. 

It appeared as though you were being carried over someone’s shoulder. Despite the extra weight, the person you currently rested on was light and quick on their feet, moving with a speed that made you feel worse than you already were.

The familiar crunching of leaves and branches on the ground made your heart beat just a bit harder. 

According to their footsteps and what you could see of your surroundings, you surmised they had taken you to the forest.

It had been mid afternoon when Aemilia and the people who worked for her and her family accosted you at the roof. Now, there was barely a hint of the moon in your surroundings.

Did she intend to have her people tie you up to the wooden pyre and set you aflame, like some sick imitation of a witch burning at the stake? Or to make it seem as though the Kims had done it?

Despite how afraid of Mayor Kim the citizens were, there was no way everyone would believe you died in such a gaudy display. 

Only the purple fire that Mayor Kim was capable of conjuring left nothing behind, after all. If they were to going to get rid of you by fire, your remains would be found.

There’s no way you could ensure that, however. 

There’s no guarantee that Aemilia wouldn’t be able to make good on her promise and utterly destroy you.

A light cough broke the silence, bringing you back to the present, and you tried to calm your heartbeat. There’s no way your captors would believe you were asleep if you kept scaring yourself like this.

You felt a tight, scratchy material around your wrists and your hands laying against your back.

You successfully clenched your hands. So they hadn’t drugged you while you were out. 

You were hesitant to shift, as you feared your captors would notice your cognizant state, so you resorted yourself to blinking at the ground and gritting your teeth from the pain and nausea. 

Thankfully, the people you were with appeared to be none the wiser. 

“Are we almost there?” A deep voice, seemingly annoyed, huffed.

“Be patient, Lee.” You felt the vibrations of the person carrying you as they replied. “This isn’t just any other job.” 

“I understand, but don’t you think Miss Augustus is going too far?”

Your captor scoffed. “If you want to question the Augustuses, thereby questioning the Kims and their authority, be my guest. I just hope you and your family will be able to deal with the consequences.”

The second captor, Lee, had nothing else to say after that. 

The quiet of the forest left a buzzing in your ears and the swinging sensation your body was making whilst strewn over the person’s back became too much to bear. 

You figured you’d just make your captor angrier if you barfed down their back and tried to shift to draw their attention, but it was too late. 

The acrid taste of bile and what you had for lunch earlier that day reached your mouth and your lifted your head, spitting out as much of it as you could.

There was a yell of anger and disgust, and your captor shoved you off of them and onto the forest floor. 

You held back a shout as you hit the ground, injuring your side even further, and let out the rest of your meal.

“What the-?! This disgusting bitch!”

Your captor launched another kick at your stomach and you fought back tears as they aggravated the wounds already in place. 

Lee stopped them after a while, complaining that another round of beating would just delay their job even further. 

You wiped your mouth off on your shoulder and grimaced.

To your surprise, you found that you could move your legs.

The first captor lifted you to your feet by your collar, and you recognized him as Mr. Byun, the man the strawberry blonde had referred to earlier. 

“Your legs still work for a reason,” he sneered and pushed you forward.

Your legs did indeed work, but were wobbly after hours of no use. 

You tripped and almost fell to the floor again, the bonds around your wrists preventing you from reaching out to break your fall, when the second captor grabbed you by the back of your shirt and held you up. 

“I’m not really in the mood for any of your foolishness, girl.” Lee glowered down at you. “Use your legs properly, or I’ll break them and drag you by the hair. It would be all too easy.”

You heard a suspicious click and your eyes flickered over to Byun, whose hand rested on his waist. In the other, however, he fiddled with a small lever on what appeared to be a firearm.

“Do you understand?” The second captor shook you and your brain protested, rattling around far too much for its liking. 

The thought of escape, which had been curling up inside you like the beginning of a fire, was quickly extinguished. You squeezed your eyes shut and nodded.

He pushed you away from him and you walked, following him with Byun at your back, trying to think of a way out of this situation.

You couldn’t tamper with the ropes around your wrist, as Byun was watching your every move. There was also the gun, and the fact that both men were trained in the use of it as well as martial arts.

Was there truly no way to escape?

——————————————————————

The three of you walked for what felt like hours, reaching a part of the woods that you had never seen before.

Here, the trees were sparse and had already lost all of their leaves. The dark branches coiled and twisted toward the sky, as if reaching for affection that would never be reciprocated. The stumps were old, the ground hard.

And then, a clearing. But not the one you were used to seeing.

Your heart dropped as you walked between two trees, noticing the view beyond them. 

You could now tell that it was well after midnight, for the sun was nowhere to be seen. Nevertheless, as always, the moon was high in the sky. 

Wylynne gazed down on the clearing with a force, as if the moon goddess wanted you to see bright and clear what awaited you.

The crumbling cliff before you overlooked a tranquil lake. Clouds hung in the distance, obscuring what was undoubtedly the outside world.

The outside of Ichabod.

Such tranquility had no business here, you thought to yourself as the pace of your breathing increased. 

Your captors had brought you to Lorne’s Ledge, also known as the edge of no return.

It was forbidden territory for any Ichabodian citizen.

Even before Mayor Kim came to town, even before the Augustus family had their reign: this was one of the oldest, most sacred spots in Ichabod.

The lady of the cliff, Lorne, saw to it that the forsaken never returned home.

You shuddered. The folklore didn’t scare you in the slightest. It would always be the work of man that you detested. 

Yet, you couldn’t help but feel some foreign, oppressive gaze resting on you now that you were here. As if Lorne herself were staring at you, waiting for you to join her in the watery depths--

That familiar click sounded again and your eyes shot to the side. You tried to slowly turn around, but the press of metal against your back forced you to stop all movement.

Lee smirked. “We have arrived at your final destination, my lady.”

“Miss Augustus was generous enough to leave you with two options. You can walk off and take a nice rest in the lake, or you can die before your body ever hits the water.” The man smiled mirthlessly down at you. “Which would you prefer?”

You blinked rapidly, mind racing. Even if you were capable of swimming, with these injuries, you wouldn’t be able to survive the fall off the ledge, 

They truly meant for you to die.

Lee didn’t seem to be in the mood for your deliberation as his cruel smile slipped into an infuriated frown. “Choose.” He growled. “My friend here would be all too happy to make the choice for you. How does a bullet in your brain and being rolled off the cliff sound?”

Byun dug the weapon into your skin and you winced, shaking your head. 

“I’ll-I’ll go. I’ll walk myself.”

Your voice cracked horribly after not speaking for so many hours, but the message was received. 

The metal was removed from your backside and you sighed in relief.

The man in front of you said nothing, simply stepping out of your path. 

You took a couple more breaths and slowly turned to face him. “C-Can I ask you to do something? As a final request.”

He raised an eyebrow at you in response.

You titled your head in the direction of your back. “Can you untie my hands? After I disappear, there might be a search for me, and someone might try to dig through the lake for my body. A suicide will be completely ruled out if they find the ropes.”

There was no way this would work. Even the Augustuses were too intimidated to bother touching the lake for fear of Lorne’s wrath. 

Besides, the police knew when and where to look, and where to say they looked. They would lie to your friends and family through their teeth.

Lee must not have been on the force for very long, however, because he grunted and pulled your hands to him. 

With a slice, the ropes fell to the ground and you clutched your wrists to your chest, nodding partly in thanks and partly in disbelief.

It...worked.

You rubbed your hands together and gently blew on them, fingers numb from the cold breeze. 

Your captors stood together between the trees, blocking the entrance. They murmured quietly to themselves and you continued to morph your face and body expressions into one of a pitiful teenager about to die, concealing the rather reckless thoughts you were having.

You finally turned around and walked back until you were in front of them, catching the two men off guard. They quieted and stared at you, hands at their weapons. 

You met each of them in the eye and bowed, lower than you ever had before, then stood upright.

They looked at you incredulously, giving you just enough time to give Lee a harsh kick between his legs and pry the knife out of his hand.

You slashed at his neck, adrenaline returning full force, and actually managed to cut the man. 

He shouted in pain and brought a hand up to the wound, trying to stop the blood.

Before you could turn to face Byun, however, the loud crack of a gunshot was heard throughout the forest and you felt a painful sting on your hand. 

You yelped as you dropped the knife.

Then, there was a second gunshot and the pain returned full force, this time on your shoulder.

The elder captor, completely fed up with your actions, slammed the gun against your head and you crumpled to the ground. 

You could feel something wet on your hand and clothes, but there was too much of it to be sweat in the midnight chill. You slowly lifted your hand, only to see it covered in a dark liquid.

Byun restrained Lee from attempting to beat you this time, barely casting a glance at your pitiful form. 

“Calm yourself. She won’t be alive for much longer.” He gruffed. “She said she would walk herself, so walk she will. We’re just here to watch and make sure it happens.”

He stood over your form and pointed the gun at your head. “What a useless attempt. Get up.”

Your shoulder and hand burned like hell, but you complied. 

You got to your feet once more and stumbled forward, every step taking you further and further away from the two. 

The barrel of the gun followed your every move.

The tears you’d been struggling to hold back ran full force now at the thought of your imminent death. But rather than let your captors feast upon the sight of your defeated form, you stopped.

You were covered in blood. Your uniform was sullied by your own vomit and dirt. 

But you straightened your back, ignoring the pain in your shoulder, and held your head up high. 

You had reached the edge of the cliff now, but your vision was too blurry to see anything besides the vast blue beneath you. 

The lake that rested below had no warmth or safety to provide for you, but neither did the forest behind you.

You considered praying to Wylynne to see if, in all her majesty and grace, she would save you.

Yet clearly, just like all the people who had come before you, just like the lady of the lake herself, the moon goddess had forsaken you.

You were tired. Too tired to fight against what some would call fate.

You whispered an apology to your mother and Mana, and perhaps even to the brothers, the reason why, you did not know.

Your eyes captured the overcast image of the outside world one last time, then you turned around and took a backward step off the cliff with a sad smile, eyes falling closed, mentally locked on that solitary picture.

Above you, you thought you heard the pained screams and grunts of your captors, sounding as though they were struggling against something or someone. 

But before you, you saw your mother with her arms outstretched, that patient, loving smile on her face. 

You reached forward, wrapped your arms around her, and readily slipped into darkness.

Above your falling form, a shadow zipped through the dawn, racing to reach you before you hit the water. 

He saw you smile and lift an arm into the air, before the smile slipped off your face and your limbs went limp.

The large, black wings at his back beat furiously and he flew faster than he ever had before until he had your beaten form cradled to his chest. 

The two of you suddenly shot upward into the air as your descent slowed, and as the first rays of daylight peeked out from above the clouds, his form hung in the air, almost frozen in time, black wings outstretched and supporting the two of you as he floated above Lorne’s Ledge. 

Kim Jimin hovered, adorned in the light of the early morning sun, peering callously down at the vermin who lay trembling between him and his brothers. 

Or what was left of them, at least.

Jungkook had managed to get his hands on the elder one, and the arm he had been using to carry the gun had been ripped clean off. 

He was now whimpering in excruciating pain, clutching at the place where his limb had once been.

The younger one, on the other hand, lay resting against a tree. 

Unmoving, his eyes unseeing. 

All it had taken was one touch from Hoseok, and the man’s life force was gone, sucked out of him before he could even protest.

He was now nothing more than a lifeless sack of meat.

Taehyung picked up the body as Yoongi kicked one of the elder’s legs to get his attention.

The others stood threateningly over Byun, glowering down at him in utter loathe, as though he were a louse.

The old man whimpered, looking up and between them, then paling in horror as he saw Taehyung and Jimin.

The younger brother walked toward the elder as Jimin gently touched down on the ground, your form still protectively pressed to him. The two Kims met eyes and nodded at each other.

Taehyung turned around and flashed Mr. Byun a crazed smile before flinging Lee’s body as far as he could over the cliff.

He gaped in horror and his voice rose multiple decibels, pleads for his life escaping before he could properly think them through.

Seokjin squatted down until he was at an eye level with him, strong, black wings threateningly displayed. He grinned. 

“If you think you have even any hope of escaping your friend’s fate,” he said as the smile slipped off his face, “you’re dead wrong.”

He glared at Byun with cold, amber irises. “But before we end your insignificant, paltry life, you’re going to tell us who sent you and why.”

They already had proof of Aemilia’s crime from Aloysius Augustus himself but they wanted to be sure.

He looked at the younger gentlemen with tears in his eyes. He fought through his pain and got on both knees.

“There’s no use in begging,” Namjoon stated, arms crossed over his chest. For the first time, he couldn’t find anything amusing in the matter.

“Please! We were only receiving orders, Miss Augustus--”

Before he could finish his sentence, Yoongi used Lee’s discarded knife and slashed it across Byun’s neck, silencing him in an instant. 

The light left his eyes and the man’s body flopped over.

Taehyung didn’t think twice about kicking him off the cliff, either.

Now that those pests were taken care of, the seven rushed to turn their attention on you. 

The bleeding from your shoulder and hand had not slowed in the slightest, and they could hardly feel your pulse.

“We need to get her to the hospital, and fast.” Hoseok said, swallowing the rising lump in his throat.

“I’m the fastest. I can take her there.” Taehyung volunteered.

The brothers agreed, and you were gently deposited into Taehyung’s arms. 

“When you’re sure she’s safe, meet us back here in the woods,” Yoongi said. “You’ll know where to find us.”

"Yes, hyung.” Taehyung spread his wings and took off into the sky.

He carefully cradled you, shifting your body into one of his arms, and attempted to heal some of your worse injuries along the way.

He pressed one hand to your abdomen and began muttering under his breath, a panicked tear slipping out the corner of his eye as he peered at the extent of the damage.

Once your ribs were mostly healed, he pulled his hand away, leaving behind a canvas of dark blue, yellow, and green bruises. He winced and moved on, pressing his hand to your head.

You made no movements, body as limp as ever in his arms. 

Taehyung touched down on the roof of the hospital and tucked those magnificent, black wings together, the appendages fading away as if they were never there. 

He held his arm out, his palm facing the door. He only meant to unlock it, but utterly destroyed it in his haste. Quite frankly, he couldn’t have cared less. 

He hurriedly walked down the stairwell and burst into the hospital’s eleventh floor lobby, reserved for VIP care and treatment. 

A receptionist was working at the front desk, typing away without a care in the world.

He was interrupted by Taehyung’s shouts. “I found her in the woods outside of our home this morning--she’s badly injured, please help!”

He looked up at the boy’s outburst, eyes widening when he realized just who and what he was looking at.

He immediately called for available nurses to bring a bed and admit you to a room, then paged any available doctors.

“Do you know who she is, Mr. Kim?” A nurse asked as she examined you for damage.

He nodded. “She’s a classmate of mine, her name is (Y/N) (L/N). Her mother also works here--please notify her of her daughter’s arrival.”

The man nodded once more, sending someone else to page Nurse (L/N) from the fifth floor.

As the nurses wheeled you away, Taehyung grabbed the receptionist by the wrist and he whipped around in fear.

“This patient is very important,” Taehyung stressed, squeezing the man’s wrist harshly. “She is being admitted under the protection of Kim Moonsik himself, at the behest of our entire family. If anything happens to her...”

The receptionist gulped and nodded. “Of course, Mr. Kim. You don’t need to explain any further. We’ll do our absolute best to ensure her care and recovery.”

Taehyung glared down at him for a bit longer before he threw the man’s wrist aside and turned away from him. 

He rubbed at his wrist, knowing it would bruise in a couple of hours, or perhaps even minutes.

The man returned to his desk, beginning to fill out the paperwork for your stay. 

When he looked up to ask Taehyung more questions about your injuries, the boy had already disappeared.

——————————————————————

In Taehyung’s absence, the six brothers stretched out their wings and flew to a certain section of the woods behind the Kim family home. 

This part of the woods remained untouched by both the Kim family and the general public. It was only the seven who came out here, and only in times of dire consequence. 

Several trees in the area had fallen over, cracked in half as though hit or pushed in anger with some spectacular force.

Leaves and branches strewn all over the ground were blown away by the boys and the sudden breeze they brought, large wings disrupting the peaceful quiet of the forest.

The early morning sun peeked through the leaves, painting a picturesque view of the woods, a sharp contrast to the heavy, violent atmosphere headed its way.

Jungkook planted his feet on the ground first, tucking away his wings until they were out of sight. He angrily flicked what was left of Byun off his face, disgusted by the thick feel and metallic smell of mortal blood. 

Jimin followed right behind him, then Hoseok, Yoongi, and Seokjin entered, Namjoon being the last to touch down on the forest floor.

Jimin and Jungkook met eyes with one another, their anger not even close to subsiding at the death of your captors. 

Yet, soon enough, curiosity and dread brought them out of their rage when they realized just how quiet it had gotten between the older members.

Jimin shifted his gaze, the frown on his face deepening when he saw the eldest brothers’ attention turn to Namjoon, who was standing deathly still, staring blankly ahead.

Seokjin raised an eyebrow as he glared down at the younger. Namjoon refused to meet his gaze.

The six of them stayed like that for a long time, even when they heard the loud beating of another pair of wings, and Taehyung joined them in the forest.

He turned to Jimin in confusion but the older simply shook his head and grabbed for his and Jungkook’s hands, squeezing them. 

Finally, after what felt like hours of silence, Seokjin spoke. 

“There is no mercy for the prideful,” he stated with finality.

Namjoon flinched away at the words, eyes stuck to the ground.

“You weren’t able to uphold your oath, Namjoon ah,” Hoseok said. His words were concerned, but his tone reeked of condescension.

“And because of that, because of your utter failure, our beloved angel got hurt.” Yoongi hissed. “She almost died.”

Hoseok, Yoongi, and Seokjin took menacing steps toward the leader. 

He heard his older brothers walking up to him, but refused to meet the wrath that was surely boiling in their gaze.

Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook watched on with bated breath, their hands still linked together.

Namjoon was frozen in place. 

As the leader of their group, there was rarely ever a moment where he was seen as weak. 

But the second he had received news of your capture, he lost even the strength to stand on his own two feet.

It was the thought of you, of saving you and bringing you to safety, that had kept him going. 

It was the only thing that had kept all seven of them sane.

Now that they knew you were going to live, he knew he couldn’t avoid his punishment any longer.

Namjoon’s facial expression didn’t change, even in the moment where, with surprising speed, Yoongi lashed out at him, decking him in the face and knocking him to the forest floor.

The student body president winced, gingerly gripping his nose as blood started to leak from it.

His older brothers stood, looking down at him in a mock semicircle.

“Yoongi ah,” Seokjin said, turning to the younger, “what is the punishment for those who commit the deadly sin of pride?”

“Being broken on the wheel, hyung.” Yoongi replied impassively. 

“Fortunately for you, or unfortunately, I should say,” Hoseok grinned down at Namjoon, “we don’t have a wheel.”

Seokjin stepped forward and lifted his foot above Namjoon’s right leg. 

“This is what happens when you place too much pride in yourself and in your actions.” He stated, then brought his foot down on Namjoon’s right leg.

He didn’t let up until there was a sick, audible crack. 

Namjoon reeled back, grunting in pain but refusing to scream. 

Yes, it hurt, but he knew he deserved it. He failed (Y/N). 

This is the least he could do to atone for his actions.

“All things considered, we’re being quite generous with you.” Yoongi stepped up next, kicking his broken leg aside to stomp down on his left one.

This time, Namjoon let out a jarring scream. 

“You still have the audacity to scream? To feel pain?” Yoongi ground his foot into the injury as though he were trying to put out a cigarette. “Imagine how much pain our beloved is in right now. Imagine what she wouldn’t have had to go through, had you done your job properly. Had you listened to us.”

The elder had never been kind or considerate when it came to delivering punishment, a fact that the younger brothers had quickly become accustomed to.

Taehyung, Jimin, and Jungkook looked on blankly, but inside they felt a deep sense of pity. 

Namjoon was their brother and their leader, the constant face of their strength.

It hurt to see him in so much pain, no matter how necessary it was. 

Namjoon sat on the forest floor, both legs twisted at an awkward angle. He grit his teeth together as he tried to control his breathing. 

He noticed no one else was approaching him, but he knew that the punishment wasn’t over yet, not so soon. He slowly, inquisitively lifted his head.

The eldest three looked at Namjoon expectedly. He pleadingly raised his eyebrows, but their stares held no mercy.

He bowed his head in defeat. 

The senior wrapped his right hand around his left forearm and squeezed until he heard something crack. 

There was the quick, soft sound of a sob coming out of his mouth, and then all was quiet. 

Hoseok went last, shuffling through the leaves on the forest floor to squat next to his younger brother, wiping away some of his tears and gently running his fingers through his hair. “We’re doing this for her. Everything we do is for her, you know that as well as we do.”

Namjoon glanced at him warily, tense because he knew what was coming next, but didn’t know when to expect it. 

“That’s why you’re prepared to face the consequences for your actions, yes...?”

With a sickeningly sweet smile, Hoseok wrapped his hands around Namjoon’s right forearm, breaking the bone in a quick moment.

Namjoon clenched his teeth together so hard, he swore he heard something else crack. 

Any movement within the top or lower half of his body left him in excruciating pain, and he stifled a scream each time.

“You did so well, Joonie.” Hoseok continued patting his head. 

They surrounded him, praising him with how well he took his punishment. 

He was only able to withstand a few more minutes of cognizant thought before his eyes rolled back into his head.

Hoseok caught his younger brother, gently laying him back onto the dirt.

The six men stood in the silence, staring at the form of their treasured leader with pity. 

Seokjin turned around and met each of his younger brothers in the eye. He then wordlessly walked away from the clearing and Namjoon’s broken body.

Yoongi and Hoseok followed him, blank expressions on their face.

The youngest brothers were all too quick to pick up on the message. 

Overstep your boundaries, and endure the same fate. 

After taking one more look at Namjoon, the youngest brothers trekked out of the forest, silently following behind the other angels.

——————————————————————

When you finally pried your eyes open, you were greeted by an unfamiliar chill.

You were cold. So cold, the chill settled uncomfortably in your bones.

White blankets were tucked around you, pristine sheets morphing to mimic your form. 

For a moment, you incredulously thought that this must have been your arrival to heaven.

Then, you soon heard a monotonous beeping and you felt the subtle prick of wires along your skin, an IV casually grazing across the back of your hand. 

It hurt to move your right shoulder, and your abdomen ached, the areas bandaged so tight you could just barely feel them. 

There were bandages around your wrists and hand as well, and the pungent scent of ointment told you those were for your rope burns and bullet graze. 

Your head injuries were also wrapped, if you deduced the source of your current headache correctly. 

You were alive. Alive, and well taken care of.

“(Y/N)?”

You winced, your head not taking too kindly to the reintroduction of noise. A swivel to your right, however, and your mother’s worried face appeared.

“...Mom?” You voice cracked horribly, and she smiled and hummed in acknowledgement, lifting a water pitcher next to her and pouring you a glass of water.

You drank as if you were Tantalus himself.

“I was so worried.” your mother stated, her voice breaking right along with yours. The sound alone nearly brought tears to your eyes. 

She lifted her hands and grasped your uninjured one, intertwining your fingers.

 “I got paged yesterday morning and asked to come up to the eleventh floor, just to find out that you had been admitted.” Your mother spoke, answering your questions before you even got the chance to ask. “And at the request of the entire Kim family, no less. Kim Taehyung brought you in himself, claiming you’d been assaulted and found outside their door.”

You tilted your head, peering at your mother in disbelief. 

She met your gaze and flicked her eyes toward the door, then back towards you without turning around. You followed their direction.

Outside the small, rectangular window of the door, there stood a tall figure dressed in dark clothing.

Your mother leaned toward you and whispered. “That woman has been standing guard since the doctors finished their checkup.”

You gulped and nodded in understanding.

“(Y/N).” Her tone shifted slightly, still holding concern but taking a solemn turn. “I never ask you questions about how school is and your life is going. We usually leave each other to our own devices, and that’s clearly been a mistake on my part. But I need you to be completely honest with me here.”

“Have you displeased the Kims in any way?” Her grip on your uninjured hand tightened to the point where all of your knuckles turned white. “If they have you here under some sort of watch until the next meeting...if they’re trying to...” 

Your mother gulped, unable to finish the rest of the sentence. 

Her voice lowered into a harsh whisper. “Tell me. I’ll go alert a trustworthy coworker, and I will have you out of this town before Kim Moonsik can utter another prayer.”

Your eyes widened comically. “Mom, no! Nothing like that happened. They saved me. The Kims saved my life.” You repeated, gripping her hands. “If they hadn’t brought me here, I would have-” 

The weight of your words finally hit you, and before you could realize, tears gathered in the corner of your eyes. “I could have...”

You fought to speak through the trembling of your lower lip. “I’m sorry I never told you about my day, I just thought I’d be able to handle it all by myself. The police commissioner’s daughter, she was trying to get rid of me and she-Mom, she-”

Your mother cupped your cheeks as your tears cascaded down your face. She gently rubbed your lower back as you muffled your cries by burying your head into her neck.

She didn’t let you go for a while, even after you managed to collect yourself. 

She poured you another glass of water and you sipped at the beverage, telling her the trials you’d faced these past couple of weeks.

“I thought it was a regular instance of bullying,” you sniffled, putting the plastic cup down. “that she didn’t want me getting too close to her crush. So I endured because I had no intention of taking anything of hers away. Who am I, in Ichabod, compared to a woman of prestige like that?” You sarcastically asked.

“But apparently, my mere existence bothered her.” You shakily recounted what had ultimately been the most terrifying moments of your life to your mother. 

You obscured some parts of the story, not wanting your mother to worry even more, and claimed that the Augustus’ men had taken you to the clearing to scare you and beat you up, and that you surmised they dropped you off outside of the Kim home afterward. 

By the time she finished hearing the whole story, her grip had embedded itself into the edge of the hospital bed. 

Your mother’s vexation was interrupted by the sound of people speaking outside your door.

“Ma’am, I apologize. By the order of Kim Moonsik, only family members are allowed to visit the patient right now.” The figure outside your door spoke with an uninterested tone.

“With all due respect, officer, please don’t assume my gender.” You heard a familiar voice snipe. “My best friend is lying in there and she’s practically a sister to me. I don’t particularly give a damn about your order. Kim Moonsik can kiss my-”

“Mana!” You yelled, trying to catch both of their attention before your best friend could get themselves arrested. 

You flipped the hospital blankets off of you and your mother helped you to your feet, then to the door. The injuries on your abdomen and head protested with every step.

The guard’s eyes widened a bit as you slid the door open, and so did the eyes of every hospital staff within sight of your room. 

“Ms. (L/N), I implore you, please go back to bed to rest!” A nurse in the hallway rushed over. 

The guard hastily nodded in agreement. “Yes, please do. I sincerely apologize for the commotion.”

You waved them off, reaching a hand out to Mana. “I'll go back to bed, but only if you let Mana in. They’re family.”

Mana stood in the hallway, hurriedly dressed in sweatpants, a disheveled oversized hoodie, and sneakers, but gingerly holding a teddy bear with a card.

The guard looked between you, Mana, and the nurse for quite some time. The nurse’s frantic expression must have convinced her, though, because she finally stepped aside.

Mana extended their arm, gently grabbing your hand in return and waltzing past the security guard with a smug expression. 

The moment the three of you were back in the room, however, they ushered you back to bed as well.

“(N/N)!” Mana said, going to hug you, then rethinking it when they spotted all the bandages. 

They placed the teddy bear in your arms and stood a card that cheerily read “Get Well Soon!” on your nightstand. “How are you feeling? I’m so sorry--I should have been there with you!”

“My head and chest hurt, but I’m alright.” You shook your head with a small smile, clutching the doll to your chest. “Don’t apologize, you had no idea this was going to happen. This was all the result of my stupid decision--I was the one who fell into her trap.”

Your mother excused herself, leaving you and Mana alone for a few minutes.

You filled them in on what had happened to you, withholding no details, and their face lit up in anger. “She ordered them to take you to Lorne’s Ledge?! That psychotic cunt! Just wait until I drag her across the square, we’ll see how high and mighty she is then-”

“Mana, calm down.” You smiled, thankful for your friend’s protectiveness, but weary after everything you’d just gone through. 

“I never want to stoop to her level,” you admitted, wringing the sheets in your hands. 

Your mother gently slid open the door, returning with water and a tray of food for you.

“I think...I’ve had enough of mind games and tricks for a while.” You whispered, then smiled at her as she lay the meal in front of you.

Mana’s gaze turned soft, and they patted your hands and back in support. 

“I don’t even want to think of what would have happened if the Kims hadn’t gotten there in time.” your mother muttered. 

You nodded in agreement. 

You weren’t particularly sure how or why, but the Kims had saved your life. 

Not only had they offered you some of the best care in the city, free of charge, but they even stationed people outside your room.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, something told you that holding them with such a mindset would put you exactly where they wanted you to be. 

Yet something else countered that thought, claiming that it was that same distancing mindset that had pushed you into the arms of danger in the first place. 

Perhaps Mayor Kim felt responsible for it because his men got usurped by a high school girl.

Or, perhaps, it was his sons who felt even more responsible.

Your mother and Mana stayed with you the rest of the night, each taking up their own positions on the furniture. Mana draped themself on the couch while your mother took the armchair.

You allowed yourself to drift off to the sound of them breathing, the chill and fear of the previous morning now a distant, foreign thing.

——————————————————————

Your mother and Mana weren’t constantly at your side, as one had to attend to her duties at work and the other had to go to school. 

There were other individuals who were perfectly happy to waste the day with you, though.

On the first day, you were visited by Jimin.

The sophomore’s usual high-energy self was nowhere to be seen as he stepped into your hospital room holding a small bouquet of (your favorite flowers). 

Jimin rushed at you, barely giving himself enough time to greet him before he fell to his knees in front of your hospital bed. 

You gasped aloud in surprise and urged him to stand, but he would have none of it. 

“I’m so sorry, (Y/N).” His eyes glistened as water streaked down his cherubic face. “If I had read your message earlier, if I hadn’t been so stupid to turn my phone off, you never would have gotten hurt like this.”

You winced as you pulled yourself to the edge of the bed, your hand only hurting slightly less than it had before. “You didn’t know at the time, I wouldn’t blame you for that. When you did know, you rushed to help me. That’s something I will be forever grateful to you for.” 

You exhaled and smiled your rare, genuine smile, a warm countenance on your face that pierced Jimin’s soul. “So please,” you held your hand out to Jimin.

The boy looked up, pitiful expression morphing into a delighted smile. He gently took your hand and stood, then ushered you to rest comfortably back at the top of the bed. 

The two of you spent the rest of the day talking, Jimin distracting you from your current situation with stories about his family and their travels. 

By the time you realized you’d never gotten answers to your questions, the sun was starting to set and you were having trouble keeping your eyes open in the middle of Jimin’s conversation.

If the raven haired boy had noticed it, he didn’t say anything. 

If anything, he continued speaking, his voice low and chiming with laughter as he recounted precious memories.

When he heard the familiar sound of your soft, slow breathing, he stopped. He simply gazed upon your visage, smiling at the way your (s/c) skin lit up in the afternoon sun and held a hand up to block the light from getting in your eyes.

He stayed that way for the next several minutes, then gently caressed your cheek, letting his hands linger for shorter than he would have liked.

Once the night was well underway, Jimin collected his things and left your side with one more forlorn look.

He shot a strict gaze at the guard, who gulped and nodded at the unspoken order.

Finally, he turned and walked down the hallway toward the elevators. 

——————————————————————

On the second day, you were visited by Taehyung. You were still asleep when he first came into the room, but your mother was sitting beside you and her eyes widened when she saw him.

Before the younger boy could even speak, the older woman bowed low in gratitude.

Few people had ever seen your mother in a vulnerable state, you included, as she purposefully made it so. 

Taehyung was a rare exception that day as he gently gripped her shoulders, feeling the slight trembles that coursed through her as he straightened her posture. 

Suppressing an amused smile, Taehyung thought of the differences between you and his supposed mother. 

While the actress trembled out of fear for her own life, your mother shook at the thought of losing you.

As expected from the woman who raised you, their perfect treasure.

“I can never repay you for the hospitality you’ve shown my daughter,” your mother whispered.

“There’s no need for such matters, Ms. (L/N). We’ll always protect and watch out for your daughter. We’re honored to have her in our lives.” Taehyung replied with a sincere tone.

She accepted the flowers he brought, carefully laying the bouquet on your nightstand, right next to the vase where Jimin’s flowers lay. 

When you did wake up, you had your own chance to thank Taehyung for finding you and bringing you to safety, along with sponsoring your stay in the hospital. 

He waved away your thanks, claiming that he was simply glad that you had turned to Jimin for assistance so that they were able to know about it.

“You know we’ll always be there for you, right (Y/N)?”

Always.

“Just say the word and we’ll come running.”

We love you.

His heart ached with the weight of the words he couldn’t say.

But you smiled in appreciation and he melted, as it was the smile they had longed to see for so long. The one that you usually reserved for your mother or Mana, the one that they had only gotten glimpses of in the time that they had known you.

He wouldn’t let you do anything for yourself the entire time, claiming you needed to rest up and heal as soon as possible. You reluctantly agreed, enjoying an unusually lazy day.

He played music for you, and soon enough the two of you were lost in a passionate conversation about your favorite artists. Funnily enough, there were several of them who you shared interest in.

Before Taehyung returned home for the day, he insisted on covering you with the blanket as well, tucking it up to your neck and pressing it in at the sides.

Your eyes were closed out of embarrassment as his form hung over yours. 

He fought the urge to bend down and kiss your forehead, for he still feared that he could frighten you away.

Instead, he reached up and switched off the light directly above your bed. With an ambiguous smile, he left, closing the door behind him.

——————————————————————

On the third day, you were visited by Jungkook.

The atmosphere was a little awkward at first, considering how soft-spoken the freshman tended to be around you.

When you tried shifting the conversation by asking him about his personal interests and passions, however, his eyes lit up.

Jungkook demonstrated several different types of punches for you in the room, even helping you weakly set up your form with your still healing hands. 

You learned much more about boxing forms and gaming techniques that day than you could ever remember, but you did leave with plans to have private self-defense lessons with Jungkook after you’d finished healing.

At some point during his visit, you had drifted off and by the time you woke up again, Jungkook was already gone. 

You panicked slightly, worried that he’d be upset and think that you wanted him to leave. As you turned to your phone, however, you noticed a folded piece of paper resting on top of the back of it.

When you opened the paper, you saw a beautiful pen-and-ink sketch of you, lying in your hospital bed and napping. 

Jungkook had somehow taken your messy, disheveled state and turned it into something that evoked a tender feeling within you.

You grinned down at the paper, amazed by his talent. Was this how he saw you? As this...ephemeral, peaceful being?

You gently stood the paper up so that it rested between the two vases that housed Jimin and Taehyung’s flowers, right next to Mana’s card.

The afternoon soon gave way to evening, then evening to night.

——————————————————————

On the fourth day, Seokjin saved you from the monotony of bland, hospital food by bringing you home cooked meals. 

The mere smell of the dishes had your mouth watering. 

He refused to let you do anything yourself, much like Taehyung had the other day. But unlike Taehyung, Jin went so far as to feed you himself.

It was embarrassing, but no matter how much you protested, he wouldn’t let up.

He sat in the chair your mother usually preoccupied and held the utensils out to you, neatly making sure you finished your meals.

At one point, he pretended the food was an airplane and you playfully slapped his arm, resulting in him dissolving into a surprising windshield-wiper-like laugh. 

Jin spent the rest of the day with you, telling you awful jokes that under normal circumstances, you wouldn’t have found that funny. 

His companionship was greatly appreciated, however, and you found that you grew surprisingly fond of his laugh.

Before Jin left for the evening, he gently lifted your hand and placed it in his lap, then revealed another bag he’d brought on his visit.

To your surprise, he clipped a small (silver/gold/rose gold) bracelet around your wrist. The ornament carried two charms: one of a well-detailed moon, the other a pair of angel wings.

You rushed to have him take the bracelet off, hesitant to accept such a valuable gift. 

Yet the look in his eyes pierced right through you, his previous joy still present and glimmering but hidden beneath the depths of something more sinister.

You leaned against your pillows as Jin gently lifted the back of your hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to it, just like he had the first night you met. 

“The moment I saw it, I thought of you.” He smiled, affectionately rubbing his thumb over your wrist. “Keep it. For me?”

It wasn’t a request.

——————————————————————

On the fifth day, you were visited by Hoseok and Yoongi.

You were slightly surprised at the fact that they had come together, as their outer attitudes seemed to be opposites, but you found that they complemented each other very well. 

They were extremely considerate of you, allowing you to do things for yourself but offering their assistance should you need it. 

Hoseok spent the day cheering you up by performing routines for you in the little space the room provided.

As strict as he was infamous for being, Hoseok clearly knew his craft. You were mesmerized by his movements and insisted on clapping for each of his performances, your hand healing quite nicely now.

Yoongi delighted you with tales of his rambunctious actions in high school, and some of the best well-kept faculty secrets.

There were several things you learned about Ms. Divii and Mrs. Hargrove that day that you would have been perfectly happy not knowing for the rest of your life, but you giggled and gossiped all the same.

It appeared as though the elder Kim brothers had a similar thought process, as Hoseok and Yoongi each gifted you (silver/gold/rose gold) jewelry similar to what you had received the day prior.

Hoseok looked as though we was going to cry when you went to turn down his gift.

One sharp look from Yoongi later, you closed your mouth, smiled, and expressed your thanks.

Hoseok fondly clipped the necklace onto you, his heart performing somersaults as you leaned into his embrace. 

He silently gulped, overcome by the sudden desire to press his lips to your neck. 

When he made eye contact with Yoongi over your shoulder, his face reddened slightly as the elder smirked at him.

He reigned in the perceptible want in his eyes and leaned back, flashing you his signature smile. “There you are, angel. Pretty as a picture.”

You lowered your head to hide your flush. “You guys really don’t have to bring me these gifts,” you murmured lightly. 

“With a visage as perfect as yours, we simply can’t help ourselves.” Yoongi stated in reply, lifting your ring finger to slide a band onto it. 

How unfortunate it was that it was the right hand instead of the left.

He was able to hide his disappointment from you, but not from Hoseok. 

Nevertheless, there would surely be an opportunity in the near future.

How else would all of those worthless people know that you belonged to them?

——————————————————————

On the sixth day, Namjoon limped his way into your hospital room, a grimace on his face. 

You greeted him with a warm smile that quickly shifted into a worried expression. “Oh goodness, are you alright?”

Namjoon nodded, taking the seat next to your bed. “I injured my leg, it’s nothing serious. I should be perfectly alright soon.”

Seokjin had been kind enough to heal most of his limbs, the elder worried about your reaction to seeing him in such a state. 

They purposefully made him wait in agonizing pain for nearly a week, however, to rub the punishment in, before clearing him to go visit you. 

It seemed as though the student body president had lost his usual self-assured, constantly amused atmosphere. He was strangely quiet, and his body language was similar to that of a man who’d been beaten into submission. 

That was far from the Kim Namjoon you knew.

For several moments, the two of you sat in awkward silence.

The two of you hadn’t been on the best of terms the last time you spoke. Just thinking back to that moment when he’d felt like he was on top of the world, completely in control, made him cringe. 

Then, you turned and smiled at him. “You know, if you really need to, you could always join me as a patient. It’d definitely make the days less boring.”

Namjoon knew you knew there was a change in his attitude, and rather than lording that over him, you simply welcomed him as you usually did.

“I’m so sorry, (Y/N).” The words blurt out before he could stop them.

You shook your head, slightly amused. “What’s with you and Jimin these days? You don’t need to apologize for saving me. Unless you want to, and, well, that’s a completely separate manner--”

“No!” Namjoon lifted his hands up and waved them around. “I just-"

You smiled, entertained by the frantic side of the normally suave, composed teen. “Think nothing of it, Namjoon. You have nothing you need to apologize to me for.”

Your expression darkened slightly as you continued. “If anything, I should apologize for not trusting you all more.”

Namjoon’s lips quivered, desperately wanting to form a victorious smirk, but he settled for an understanding smile.

In the end, he’d been right.

As usual.

“Who remains close to you, who you decide to trust, that’s completely your decision. You should never have to apologize for it.” Namjoon said.

You smiled in acknowledgement, then furrowed your brows in confusion when Namjoon started to dig around in his bag.

“I heard we were gift giving this week.” He pulled out a beautiful, leather bound journal and fountain pen and carefully placed the items on your lap. 

“This is absolutely gorgeous. How did you know I like writing?” You smiled. 

Of course he knew. He knew everything about you.

“I didn’t,” he replied, shrugging with a small smile. “I like to write in journals as a form of catharsis, and thought you might want to try.”

“Thank you so much.” You lifted an arm up and gestured for a one armed hug, one that Namjoon happily accepted.

Clutching the journal to your chest, you gathered the courage to ask him the question that had been running around in your head the past week.

“Namjoon?”

“Yes?”

“How did you guys find me in time?”

The elder clenched his jaw and shifted his gaze aside as if he couldn’t beat to direct his apparent anger and frustration toward you. 

“We heard from Jimin that Aemilia took you and interrogated the police commissioner about any of our private guard’s movements. He fessed and told us that Aemilia told him that I texted her, claiming that there was another soul in need of punishment.” 

Namjoon grit his teeth, vexation rolling off of him in waves as he practically hissed out his words. “He authorized members of our private force to move under her order in order to subdue you.”

Recounting the ridiculous lie that the redhead told her father, and the father’s idiotic tendency to believe her, made his blood hot.

“After we heard that, we rushed to all the places in the forest that the Augustus men might have taken you. Thankfully, we got to Lorne’s Ledge in time and Jimin was able to save you before you could fall off the edge.”

“Are you sure?” You said. “I could have sworn I stepped off...I thought I was a goner.”

Namjoon shook his head. “We definitely got there in time to save you. You sustained several head injuries, so I’d understand if you didn’t see Jimin or blacked out.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, pondering his response for several moments before nodding at his answer. 

There was no way you would ever be able to forget what happened that night.

You knew for a fact that your feet had left the ledge. 

But he was right, you did take several nasty hits from Byun and Lee.

You wanted to keep asking him questions, but the pained, forced look in his eye made you pause on that front.

Perhaps that projection you saw of your mother had actually been Jimin.

You wrung your hands together. 

“What matters now is that you’re safe and sound.” Namjoon gently placed his hand atop yours and gave it a supporting squeeze. “All you need to focus on is getting better. We definitely won’t let them get away with this.”

You nodded again, smiling slightly at Namjoon in thanks for his concern.

——————————————————————

Halfway across town, Aemilia Augustus paced around in her room, practically biting off her perfectly manicured nails in worry.

It had been seven days. 

Seven days of nothing.

Not a single word had come in from Byun or Lee.

When she arrived at school that first day and heard everyone talking about your absence, she felt pure and utter bliss. 

There was no joy like the joy she felt in that moment.

Such euphoria simply couldn’t be replaced.

The only moments that could possibly top it were her future engagement with Kim Namjoon, or the day she would take over her family business.

Because so many days went by without a single peep at your face, she thought her plan was working. 

She felt on top of the world.

But Byun and Lee were two of the most promising soldiers on the squad. There was no reason as to why they were taking so long to get back to her to confirm your measly little death.

As a result, she was starting to panic.

Of course, she had an emergency plan. 

She had no need for it, as there was no way her plan could go wrong, but she always had to be prepared, after all.

Just as she was about to take deep breaths to calm herself down, she jumped at the sound of pounding footsteps and yelps drifting into her room from downstairs.

She heard the annoying cry of her mother and father, and then the sound of several people talking.

A grim chill fell over her.

Unexpectedly, her plan had gone horribly, horribly wrong.

There wasn’t much time left now, as she could hear the footsteps get closer and closer.

To hell with her parents--their capture was inevitable.

Aemilia Augustus would not be captured like a criminal, not as long as she was alive and well.

Aemilia padded over to her bedroom door, shutting it closed as softly as possible and smacking the lights off.

She dove into her walk-in closet and squeezed herself as tightly as possible into a corner, a rack of evening gowns and day dresses covering her.

Every couple of minutes, a door would slam open and she listened, holding a hand over her mouth as the pounding feet searched every room on her floor.

It didn’t take them long to arrive at her room, and she shook as she heard them throw things around.

A rectangle of light shone into the room as someone opened the closet door and Aemilia stilled as though she were encased in ice.

It was silent for a long, dreadful moment. The officer turned their head this way and that, walking into the room and turning on the light to search.

From where Aemilia was hidden, there was no way they would be able to find her. She thanked Wylynne that she hadn’t taken up on her mother’s offer to hire a maid to clean her closet.

The officer turned away to leave and Aemilia cheered in her heart.

After the guards left the premises, she would collect as many valuables as possible from the house and run off to her family’s private home in another part of town. From there, she would plan what to do next.

Her plan wasn’t perfect, but she would be able to get away with it.

Or at least, she thought she would.

Just as the officer was about to close the door, a strong, invisible force yanked Aemilia out from her hiding spot and she came crashing down noisily from behind the evening gowns, taking a few with her.

The officer immediately turned around, beckoning his partner to get her. 

She hurriedly gripped a platform heel and attempted to plunge it in the man’s eye, but he caught her wrist and painfully twisted her arm behind her back.

The redhead screeched in fury and pain. His partner soon joined him, and they dragged her out into her room, each officer tightly holding on to one of her arms.

“What are you doing? Unhand me this instant!” She shrieked, writhing around in an attempt to escape. “Have you forgotten who you take orders from?!”

“No, but it seems as though you have.” 

She paused at the sound of that familiar voice.

Her beloved casually strode into the room in all of his glory, his head held high, that ever present cocky, amused smile that she loved so much on his face.

“Namjoon.” She whimpered. “Namjoon, they’re hurting me.”

The student body president kneeled down in front of her and gently took her chin in his hands.

Her eyes filled with tears and she stuck out her bottom lip, waiting for Namjoon to tell the men to let her go. They better anticipate the earful they were about to receive. How dare they treat their future queen this way?

Namjoon lovingly stroked her cheek with his thumb, wiping away her tear. She nuzzled her cheek into his hand, looking up at him with a pitiful gaze. He smiled at her.

Surely he would save her.

Aemilia closed her eyes, suppressing a victorious smile as she felt Namjoon pull his hand away from her face.

But rather than the sound of him barking orders, she was met with the sound of a harsh slap.

Her eyes flew open in shock.

Her face stung.

“Nam..joon...?” She whispered, stupefied.

The senior was sneering down at her, pulling a handkerchief out the square pocket of his jacket and wiping his hand on it.

“What disgusting thoughts you have,” the man spat, dropping the handkerchief in another subordinate’s hand. 

“Burn that.” He commanded.

Aemilia simply stared up at him in disbelief. 

Had he...hit her?

“Namjoon, why are you doing this?” Her voice trembled. “You’d never hit me, you’re my...we’re-”

“Nothing.” Namjoon interrupted with a disinterested gaze. “I am not your anything. I’ve never given you any inclination that could lead you to assume that I loved you, or liked you, or cared for you in the slightest.”

Aemilia dropped to her knees in incredulity. 

“That’s not true! You cared for me, I know you did! Ever since that (h/c) haired bitch appeared, you’ve turned away from me!” She screeched, her shrill voice piercing their ears. “I should’ve gotten rid of her sooner!”

As soon as the words left her mouth, all the air in Aemilia’s lungs disappeared. She heaved her chest, trying to breath, but found herself unable to.

He squatted down to face her.

“Let’s get one thing absolutely clear.” Namjoon spoke in a frighteningly low tone. “I never cared for you. You were nothing more than a useful little pawn in my game. A pawn who somehow tricked herself into believing she could become a queen.”

Her face turned redder and redder from anger, embarrassment, and the lack of oxygen.

“(Y/N) is more of a queen than you could ever be,” Namjoon stated, smiling at the memory of you sitting up in your hospital bed, grinning at him, the sun forming a halo behind your head. “She’s an angel. Our precious everything.”

He turned his gaze back to the creature before him. “She isn’t someone the likes of you can ever attempt to touch, much less harm or overthrow.”

Namjoon straightened, moving to walk towards the entrance to her room. “That’s my fault, I’m afraid. After all, I wasn’t able to properly regulate my inferiors.”

Black dots swam at the edge of Aemilia’s vision. She kept her eyes locked on Namjoon, still praying that this was all a prank or a joke, and that he would comfort her by sweeping her up into his arms.

“You truly have no idea what’s going to happen to you, do you?” He chuckled with a mirthless smile. “Don’t worry. We’ll fix that soon enough.”

Finally, her body gave in and shut down from the lack of oxygen. The redhead flopped over on her side, Namjoon’s cruel glare burned into the backs of her eyes.

——————————————————————

On the morning of the seventh day, you took advantage of your solitude by pondering the events of this week and the rather complicated emotions that came with them. 

Despite their reputation and despite your fears, you had grown closer to the Kims over the past month. 

They never threatened or harmed you or the people you cared about. They had welcomed you into their lives with open arms. 

You had kept them at an arms length in an effort to protect yourself and your loved ones. But what had distancing yourself from them gained you?

Still, there was no way your method could be wrong. It was your livelihood, your path to survival in Ichabod. 

There were rules here, rules that couldn’t be broken. 

Yet the majority of those rules had been broken the moment you invited Jimin to sit with you at lunch.

Was it even possible that an alternative path to salvation freedom existed?

Had the Kims truly provided another way? 

Your mother went around the room collecting and packing up your things for you as Mana helped you change in the bathroom, making sure to be careful of your still-healing shoulder.

When they left to fetch your discharge papers, you sat at the edge of the hospital bed and deliberated what could potentially be one of the most important decisions of your life.——————————————————————

i am so, so, so sorry for taking longer than usual to post! college and midterm season caught up with me--i’ll try not to let assignments interfere with my writing schedule in the future ;-;-; thank you so much for sticking with me through the wait! the long awaited day has finally come! revenge has never been so sweet hehe. also, the way that i have no idea how to write fight scenes--pfft. i hope you all enjoy the chapter <33

~taglist~

@melaninkpops @loserwithapen @hellaspookystudent @ecillartto @omgsuperstarg @ace-angel-judas @jjamsbangtan @lovinggalaxies @lovesick-heart0 @ksxmpoison @girlmeetsliv3 @thedarkwinterrose @purpuravm @oneweirdbean @hopelessfountainjoonie @mazmaz30 @enigmaticlove-03 @uppiespuppy @queenceline22 @kokofikats @taeyohonic @creatorspalace @supertweetycherry @anachikartadze @itsfeliciatime 

[ninamitoo]

FALLING

HPhogwartsmystery - Talbott Winger x Reader

Author‘s note: This is supposed to be a one-shot but since there aren’t many stories about Talbott x reader I’ll be posting 2nd and 3rd part (if you’ll be interested).  Also English isn’t my first language so sorry if there are any mistakes.

Wordcount: 1200

Pairing: Talbott Winger x reader / MC / Y/N (your name)

I first became aware of Talbott Winger thanks to a coincidence. Back than I had never imagined that this boy could get under my skin so quickly. I could say it all started thanks to Tulip.

It was a normal day. I came to the Great Hall and saw Tulip standing with Barnaby at the very end. The sight of the two of them together was more than unusual, so I decided to investigate.

”Hi Y/N. Barnaby and I were just discussing Talbott Winger.” Tulip greeted me. When I asked who he is the answer was “a Ravenclaw who keeps to himself.”

”They also say his dad is a vampire, and his mum is a mermaid!” Barnaby joined the conversation with a disturbing look on his face. Looks like I'm not the only one with strange rumors circulating around school. What actually caught my attention was the fact that he’s attempting to brew an Animagus Potion. Since the first lesson with professor McGonagall I have dreamed about becoming an Animagus myself. Maybe if I talked Talbott into brewing an extra Animagus Potion for me, I can finally fulfill one of my dreams. Not to mention how much easier it’d be to sneak around school in animal form…

”He’ll shut you down.” Tulip crushed my completely bulletproof plan. ”It might be best to ask around about him first…“ Suggested Barnaby. Since it was a good idea I started asking about Talbott everyone who was still in the Great Hall. Unfortunately, he was sitting a few feet away from me, and as I found out later, he heard everything.

”If you want to know something about me, just ask.“ He says as soon as I sit across from him. He took me by surprise. Not knowing what to say I blurted out the first thing which came to my mind: ”How did you know I was talking about you?“

”My hearing is almost as good as my eyesight.“ He asnwers without any emotion. ”Besides, I’m used to people talking about me.“ How can I relate to that… I decided not to beat around the bush and straightforward asked if he was brewing an Animagus Potion, however he denied it. His cold response told me not to push any further and with a quiet sorry to bother you, I got up to leave. His next sentence stoped me. ”Is it true you sneaked into Filch’s Office?“ Not wanting to incriminate myself, I lied. ”No. Why? Do you want to get in?“

”I’m collectong things for a mutual friend of ours.“ He vaguely answered. ”We have a mutual friend?“

”You’re probably surprised I have any friends at all…“ Did I just hear a hint of pain in his voice? ”No, not really. Everyone has friends and with everything I’ve seen at Hogwarts, nothing surprises me anymore.“ I shruged with my shoulders to seem like I don’t really think much of it, but in reality I secretly hoped my answer will comfort him. I don’t know why, but I don’t want him to be sad. ”We’ll see about that.“ Talbott said. A little smirk appearing on his face.

”What do you mean?“

”Let’s go Y/N L/N. You can show me how you definitely did not sneak into Filch’s office.“ And just like that I fell into a trap called Talbott Winger. With each passing day I wanted to know more about him, what he likes, what is he doing. When I was able to conjure a smile on his face, it was the best feeling I had experienced. Much better than when we won first Quidditch Cup. But… He didn’t saw me as a friend. Not until I pushed him into allowing me to help find his lost necklace. That’s when he finally admited, he sees me as a friend. As someone he can trust and rely on. When I heard him say these words, my heart made a few somersaults. In that very moment I realised I don't fancy him anymore. I have totally fallen for him.

                                                       *******

One particular night I couldn’t fall asleep. I decided I’ll tire myself out by going on a fly around the castle. After putting on a sweatshirt and shoes, I shifted into my animagus form and flew through the open window. After flying for several minutes I noticed a very familiar looking eagle heading fot the owlery. With a graceful movement of my wings I change direction and follow my new friend. When I land, I transform back into my human form, but Talbott still remains in his animal. He is resting on one of the loose perches, looking at me curiously.

”I couldn’t sleep.“ I answer his silent question, taking a few steps forward, shortening the distance between us. His feathers shine beautifully in the moonlight. I couldn't resist the urge to touch his plumage. I lightly touch the side of his wing.

”Your feathers looks really beautiful.“ I whisper into the dark night not entirely sure if I didn't cross the border. His pupil narrows in surprise. His body gets surrounded by a yellowish glow, and I realise too late that he is transforming back into his human form. Surprised, I don't have time to dodge and within a second I find myself face to face with his firm chest. His pleasant scent immediately surrounds me, and I realize that I am absorbing it voraciously in an effort to remember it. He must have noticed. This got awkward really quickly… With a shy sorry i take a few steps back and look up at him. His look took my embarrassment to a whole new level. He was covering his face with his hand, furiously averting his gaze. Is he blushing?

”Did you…“ His voice was a pitch lower than usual. After clearing his throat he looked down at me. Yep, he was definitely blushing. ”Do you really think that?“ I felt my cheeks begin to burn. ”Yes… I do.“ I honestly answer unable to look him in the eye. The last time I confessed my feelings it didn’t go exactly well. Thank goodness I erased his memories.

”Do I look good only in my Animagus form?“ He asks. Something in his voice forced me to look at him. He was serious. He needed to know. The request in his eyes told me I have to tell him the truth. Now or never.

With a shaky breath I compose myself. ”No. I think you look very handsome every time I see you.“ After hearing my response his cheeks darkened with deep red. A mischievous grin curls his mouth into a smile. Why does he looks like he just won?

”Good to know.“ He simply answers lovering himself to my heigh. He tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear with his hand, looking directly into my eyes. His hot breath tickled my lobe. ”I think you look absolutely gorgeous yourself.“ And with that, he transformed back into an eagle and left.

The heart impetuously beats for the boy who just gave her hope.

”Falling in love with him I hadn’t expected. But being in love with him is something I couldn’t stop even if I tried.“

[lilyofthesword-writes]

Insistence

Summary: Loki is being stubborn even when injured, not wanting help for fear of seeming weak. You ignore his protests and tend to him anyways.

Pairing: Loki x Field/Combat Medic!Reader

Word Count: 2,864

Warnings/Disclaimers: Mild violence. Injuries, burns. I don’t go into gory detail. Minor character death alluded to.

A/N: This one took longer than I anticipated. I wound up rewriting it midway through. The whole combat medic has been on my list of ideas for a while with only the most basic idea in my head. Once I start writing, it veered off in a different direction.

Masterlist

“I do not require your assistance, Mortal,” Loki spat, his voice lacking the venom it was usually laced with especially when you were trying to do your job.

You scoffed, gently dabbing at the tiny lacerations on his cheek. “Well, you’re getting it anyways. What kind of field medic would I be if I didn’t help everyone on the team?”

He scowled as you brushed a rogue ribbon of inky hair behind his ear so you could make sure you didn’t miss anything. In truth, this was the first time he didn’t continuously insist on pushing you away. There was always something about him not needing your treatments or someone else needing to be tended to first - Any excuse he could use to deny help. Then again, there was nowhere for him to run this time.

Either Fury’s intel had been wrong, your team’s plans had been leaked or both. The HYDRA base you all had been sent to had been overstocked in both operatives and ammunition. Even with the legacy team that accepted Loki almost half a year ago, you weren’t prepared.

Nat had been the worst, immediately being taken down when she attempted to infiltrate the base. That was when the HYDRA members started spilling out from within and around the base. With the rest of the team providing backup, Clint was able to help you lug her back to the Quinjet where you cleaned the deep gash in her side and stitched her together again. Of course, Clint wasn’t going to stand down. He stayed by the ramp, firing arrow after arrow to keep some of the heat off his companions. You wound up having to patch up his bleeding leg while he continued to fight.

Steve was the next to return. He collapsed in a seat as you reached him. Bruised and battered, he was mostly alright save for the possibility of some broken ribs. Tony crashed-landed onto the ramp, the metal of his suit screeching and scraping as he skidded inside. He was in the same boat as Steve along with his suit quickly losing power. There wasn’t much left he could do. Thor lumbered backwards into the Quinjet, Mjolnir still boomeranging out into the field to take down what enemies he could. With the God of Thunder standing guard, Clint disappeared to the cockpit.

The engines whirred to life. “Okay, guys! Jet’s primed and ready for take off. We got everyone?” Clint called out.

You took a look around, hearing the engines ready themselves. Thor cursed under his breath as he continued throwing his hammer. Where was… Oh… Oh no.

Shoving the cotton ball doused in antiseptic into Tony’s hand, you peeled away from his side and hovered near Thor. Against the bright white snow, a twister of black, green and gold ferociously danced. Loki was still out there.

“Do NOT take off yet!” you hollered back.

With a huff, you opened a hidden compartment and pulled out a sniper rifle along with its tripod. After piecing together the barrels, you attached the small tripod and settled on the floor, taking aim in Loki’s general direction. You popped off a couple rounds onto any of the HYDRA agents who dared try to catch the mischievous god off guard.

Tony shuffled to his feet, cursing when he realized just what was happening. By this time, he had removed himself from the drained Iron Man suit. “Trade places, Legolas! Reindeer Games is still out there!” He dashed to the cockpit.

You fired again, this operative having gotten too close for comfort. Loki had turned just in time to see opponent drop dead at his feet. With a near indiscernible nod that could only be seen through your scope, he carried on, slowly making his way to the Quinjet.

Despite his own injury, Clint was swiftly back at your side. With the extra backup, an exhausted Thor was able to make it off the ramp, farther into the fray and meet his brother halfway. Clint and you kept the path clear enough for them to rush back. It was stunning to see how well they could work together when they needed to.

The moment they were in reach of the ramp, you leapt to your feet and with Clint pulled the exhausted brothers on board. The ramp lifted as you tugged Loki into sitting, and the Quinjet took off. So, here you were, attempting to take care of the trickster’s wounds after having checked on Thor.

“I am a god,” he sneered half heartedly. “I will heal quickly. This is unnecessary.” He winced lightly as the antiseptic stung his cheek.

You sighed, “Any one can heal those cuts, but just because you can do so faster than the rest of us, doesn’t mean you are impervious to infections. Just less likely to get them.”

He went silent at that, either realizing you were right or just not desiring to argue further. Done with one side, you swapped to the seat on the other side of him. With a clean, freshly wetted cotton ball, you gingerly began cleaning his other cheek. All things considered, Loki didn’t look too bad. At least, not as bad as he could have. With your freehand, you coaxed him to lift his chin up so you could tend to the lacerations on his neck.

“Why?” His voice was soft, just loud enough for only you to hear him.

“Why, what?” You copied his volume level.

“Why do you insist on this?”

You stopped your ministrations, raising your gaze to look him in the eye. His face was uncharacteristically soft as he looked back at you. Though he tried to hide it, his aventurine eyes held an unfamiliar vulnerability.

“Well,” you started slowly, carefully choosing your words. “You are a member of this team, and you should be treated as such.” Fingers still ghosting his chin, you guided him to face you. “You deserve the same treatment I would give everyone else.”

His brow furrowed as he studied you cautiously. It took him a moment before he finally spoke again. “Should that be what you wish to believe, it is fine by me.” You could hear the sharpness returning to his voice.

The god turned away, leaning back in his seat with closed eyes, effectively ignoring you. Now, you could have chosen to change seats, to move away from the cold attitude clearly directed at you, but you stayed. One, you were tired like everyone else and didn’t feel like getting up. Two, you were going to be stubborn and bug him with your presence.

Eventually a calm quiet enveloped the Quinjet, seeping into your bones. Feeling your eyes droop, you settled in your seat for as much comfort as you could get before drifting off.

You imagined hours had passed by the time you woke. Your muscles ached from the position you had fallen into, your neck being the worst. Tentatively rolling your shoulder, you tried to sit up and stretch only to find you couldn’t. Your head was resting you thought was the side of your seat, but there was a light weight keeping on top keeping you from moving. You opened your eyes to a shocking sight.

No, your sleeping position was a bit different from what you thought. Your makeshift pillow happened to be Loki’s shoulder. He, in turn, had his head on yours, probably having fallen asleep shortly after you. It seemed like he was still asleep, his chest rhythmically rising and falling in a way that could be described as soft. You could only imagine the tranquil expression on his face. There was absolutely no way you were going to look. You would probably move too much and wake him, and that would be the end of this little moment.

The rest of the team was asleep, save for Thor. Even with exhaustion drenching his body, he was wide awake, grinning like a madman when he realized you had caught him watching. How long had he bared witness to the scene unfolding? With a scowl, you pressed your finger to your lips, signaling him to keep quiet. He merely nodded, that knowing smile still plastered on his face.

The call you received from Maria shocked the lingering sleep from your body. A small team had been formed to infiltrate a hostage situation - a team that included Nat, Loki, Steve and another field medic whose name you hadn’t even had the chance to remember yet. The mission had soured once they reached the hostages. Everyone was being brought back to the compound for treatment. It was all hands on deck.

Quickly shucking your pajamas, you threw on a pair of scrubs and sneakers and made a mad dash to the Med Bay. The place was pure chaos. Most of the doctors and nurses were tending to the hostages in the main rooms. The team was near the back in separate rooms.

Spotting Maria who was attempting to direct people and bring some semblance of order to the wing, you rushed over to her. “Where do you need me?”

She flipped through the files on her data pad, not even looking up to see who she was speaking to. “Everyone has a medic taking care of them except for Steve and Loki. Start there.”

“Understood,” you nodded, leaving Maria to do what else was needed.

Down the hall, you took note of the injuries you could see of the various patients. Burns… Lots of burns… What in the world happened?

Passing by Nat’s room, she seemed mostly alright. She gave you a minute bob of her head that you reciprocated before meeting up with Steve. He had burns along one side of his body. Thankfully, the treatment would be minimal compared to some of the others.

“Hey,” he greeted you with a grimace as you began your work.

“How’re you feeling?”

He huffed out a tiny laugh, “Honestly, not terrible.”

With the top half of his suit tugged down, you gingerly cleaned and added ointment to soothe the wounds. “What happened out there?”

“One of the hostages… Well… He had an explosive… Saddled up to Trevor…”

Oh… The field medic… Oh god…

Steve sucked in a breath like he couldn’t get enough air in his lungs. “Loki tried to contain it, but… We were all a little late in reacting.”

Your hands stilled. “How bad is he?”

The super soldier plucked the salve container from your fingers. “He’ll live, but if you’re really that worried about him, I can handle the rest of this.”

“You know him.” You tried to snag the container back. “He’ll come up with any excuse to not let us help him. If he knows I left you here, he’ll insist I leave him alone.”

Steve held it away from you with his good arm like a kid holding its younger sibling’s toy out of reach. “I doubt he will do that this time,” he smiled reassuringly, a glint of knowing shining in his eyes.

Leaning on the bed, you heaved a sigh. “You’re gonna drag me in there if I refuse, aren’t you?”

“Yup,” he ended with a pop. “Now get going!” He shooed you away.

“Fine,” you groaned, playfully dramatic. “But you can bet I will be back later to make sure you did everything right.”

He let loose a chuckle. “I’d expect nothing less.”

Leaving Steve to his own devices, you went to the next room down the hall. The door was shut and the privacy blinds were closed. Was Loki hurt that badly that the others had to be hidden away?

With a quick announcing knock, you steeled yourself and pushed the door open, sliding in before silently closing it again. When you turned to face Loki, you were met with something you hadn’t quite expected to see. What burns still littered his skin looked as though they were mostly healed over, but that wasn’t the problem. With his armor off, you were able to get a good look at his arms and upper torso.

Blue. His skin was blue. Ridges meticulously adorned his arms, up his chest and even his face. It was such a stark contrast to his Asgardian form, yet it still suited him well. From unmarred, alabaster skin to decorated, indigo skin. Perfection in both forms.

“Loki?” you announced your presence as softly as possible.

His face scrunched as he squinted his eyes open to find you standing beside him. “Aren’t there others that need tending to?” The hoarseness of his voice betrayed the harshness he attempted to convey.

“We’ve enough staff to manage everyone well enough,” you shook your head with a smile.

Now that you were closer, you could see he was sweating profusely. His breaths were so shallow. Brushing away a locket of hair matted to his forehead, you found his skin warm… Much warmer than it should be. Instead of recoiling immediately, you laid your palm flush with his forehead. “You are burning up!”

You pulled away to pop outside the door. Waving down a nurse, you asked him to bring in as many ice packs as he could. What was currently stored in the room would not be enough. Returning, you pulled out all of the packs. You wrapped them in some towels so they wouldn’t directly touch his skin. Then, you placed them around Loki, hoping this would be enough until the nurse got back with you.

The god rested silently while you worked. It was only when you pulled up a chair next to him to keep an eye on his vitals that he finally spoke. “Why are you still here?” A sort of vulnerability leaked out of his voice.

“Because you need help,” you deadpanned, really not wanting this argument again.

“No.” His brow furrowed with frustration, ruby eyes staring at the ceiling. “Why haven’t you run yet?”

You brushed a little more of his tresses away from his face. “And why would I do that?”

“Are you blind? Do you not see the monstrosity before you?” He scowled, still refusing to look at you.

“No, I don’t.”

He barked out a laugh that he immediately regretted. “Then what, pray tell, do you see?”

Reaching across for his cheek, you guided him to face you, receiving little resistance. His skin was still hot but not quite as much as before. “I see a person who risked his own safety to protect a bunch of civilians. There’s no way you could be a monster even with your jötun form.”

“So, you do know what I am…” A deep frown etched across his face.

“Yes… If it makes you feel any better, only a select few know. I have to know the medical histories of all the Avengers if I’m to treat them in the field.”

Silence…

“And for what it’s worth, this,” your thumb graced the apple of his cheek, “is not scary in the slightest.”

His eyes searched yours frantically for any hint of dishonesty. A trembling hand raised and settled on yours, pressing it further on his face. His lips parted to speak but was interrupted by a light knock on the door.

With an apologetic smile, you slid your hand from his grasp. The nurse from before had returned with the ice packs. A quick “thank you” and you brought the tray in the room, shutting the door behind you. Just as you had before, you surrounded him with the new packs. Loki’s chest rose and fell more deeply as he cooled down even further, skin morphing into a pale sky blue and eyes returning to the bluish-green you’ve come to know.

“Well, you’re at least responding quickly. How do you feel?” You hovered at his bedside.

He locked eyes with you again, a cocktail of emotions swirling about despite his attempts to keep a straight face. “I-” he cleared his throat. “Better…”

“Good, good…” Your hands fiddled with the sheets. “Is there anything you need?”

Loki’s lips pursed, and he swallowed thickly. His digits brushed against yours, halting your nervous tick. “Stay?”

“Of course,” you breathed.

The corners of your mouth tugged upwards as you glided your fingers into his palm like two puzzle pieces meant to fit together, giving his hand a light squeeze. You pulled your seat closer and sat back down.

Just as you made yourself comfortable, Loki raised your hand to his face. His lips grazed over your knuckles as he whispered, “Thank you…”

“Anytime.” And you meant it. “I’ll stay for as long as you’ll have me.”

He let your entwined hands float back down to the bed as he chuckled. “If that’s the case, I do hope you are well prepared.”

“Oh, yeah?” You smirked. “And just how long do you plan on keeping me around?”

“For as long as you will have me.”

Little did either of you know, Thor had come to the Med Bay to check on Loki after he heard the news and was listening to the conversation through the closed door. He decided to leave you be for now. The congratulations and light teasing could wait until tomorrow.

Tag List: @nahthanks​

[storytellerofuntoldlegends]

an icarus and his sun: chapter 14

A/N: hello i return!! just one more chapter after this, it's so wild to think that this fic is almost over!

Warnings: kissing, self-worth issues, talk of near death situations and past injury

AO3 Link - Tumblr Masterpost

-

Kissing Scott felt like Jimmy was cradling sunlight in his hands. Something that should have been impossible, and yet all the same it was happening. And now that Scott had Jimmy, he seemed determined not to let him go. Not that Jimmy was exactly complaining about Scott’s new mission to kiss him breathless- but considering not too long ago Scott was trying to make him breathless in an entirely different sense, and that the others didn’t even know what all went down… they should probably stop. So with great regret, Jimmy tried to pull away from Scott- key word there being tried.

“Scott, c’mon, let go of me,” Jimmy chuckled, dodging yet another kiss. Scott settled for pressing his lips to Jimmy’s cheek before tucking his head under Jimmy’s chin. His wings shifted to curl around the both of them, and as nice as it felt, they really needed to get up from the floor so that Jimmy could let his friends know what happened.

“Mm… no,” Scott hummed with a giggle.

“We should probably tell the others what happened- they all think you’re still fighting off the corruption, or are possessed,” Jimmy pointed out.

“I don’t see why we can’t just tell them later,” Scott pouted. Jimmy let out a fond, incredulous sigh.

“You also haven’t properly eaten anything in a few days, you’ve been living off of splash health potions for the most part,” Jimmy said sternly.

“Well, I know something I’m hungry for,” Scott teased, and Jimmy didn’t even need to see his face to know that he was smirking. Jimmy sighed again.

“And I thought you were incorrigible when we hated each other,” he commented with a chuckle. Scott pulled away enough to look at Jimmy with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“You’re stuck with me now, better get used to it, sweetheart,” he murmured. Jimmy could feel his face warm up considerably at the petname, and Scott grinned at the sight. Well, two could play that game.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing, sunshine,” Jimmy replied with a grin. Scott’s eyes went wide, and he flushed pink all the way to the tips of his ears.

“Oh you can flirt back now. Right,” Scott managed to get out, voice coming out a bit strained. Jimmy just grinned wider.

“So what do you say, sunshine? How about we let everyone know that neither of us are dead and that you’re also not possessed?” Jimmy offered. Scott made a flustered sound at being called “sunshine” again, but collected himself enough to let out a sigh of defeat.

“Fine,” he grumbled, before getting up off of Jimmy. Jimmy stood up as well- just in time to catch Scott as he suddenly tilted to one side. Scott was leaning against Jimmy heavily, and Jimmy looped an arm around his waist as he tried to keep Scott upright.

“Scott?!” Jimmy gasped, unable to keep the panic from his tone.

“M’okay- think that lack of actual food thing is catching up to me. Just stood up too fast and got dizzy, that’s all,” Scott reassured him, standing up a bit more but still holding on to Jimmy, just to be sure.

“Then we’d really better tell the others so that we can work on getting your strength back,” Jimmy said with a relieved smile. He led Scott over to the lever for the secret door, and the moment he flicked it, a group of people came tumbling in. Nearly all of them fell to the floor in a heap, except for Pearl and Pixl, who sheepishly smiled at Jimmy and Scott. Gem was the first to pick herself up from the floor, dusting off her robes and letting out a nervous laugh.

“We uh. We might have been listening for a little bit there! We just didn’t want to interrupt,” Gem explained sheepishly. The others picked themselves off from the floor as she spoke, and Shelby was the last to get up from the floor, holding a black shulker box to her chest.

“Where’d the corruption go, I’ve got a box for it!” Shelby chirped, peering around Jimmy and Scott. The two of them blinked in surprise, and Scott looked to his arm. The corruption was long gone, all that was left was a scar from the initial cut. Jimmy looked around the room, and soon spotted what was left of the corruption lying on the floor near where he and Scott had fought. It looked like a mass of red vines that twitched every so often, and Jimmy’s stomach turned with nausea at the sight. Scott seemed to notice Jimmy’s sudden distress, and followed his gaze, only for Scott himself to turn several shades paler than he already was as he clung to Jimmy a bit tighter. Shelby noticed where the two of them were looking, and quickly scrambled over to carefully gather up the corruption and put it in the shulker box.

“Hey, easy, just look at me- you’re okay,” Jimmy soothed, reaching out to gently turn Scott’s head towards him. Scott’s look seemed far away even as he was looking into Jimmy’s eyes, and he squeezed his eyes shut for a moment before blinking them open with a shaky sigh, gaze looking much more focused than before as he leaned his forehead against Jimmy’s.

“I think it’s probably good I’ve only been living off of health potions, pretty sure I would have just lost whatever I would have eaten right then,” Scott got out with a short laugh.

“So… how did you get the corruption out anyway?” Pixl asked after pointedly clearing his throat. Jimmy and Scott jumped slightly, pulling away from each other (but not far enough for Scott to be without standing support) with a pair of sheepish smiles.

“Well I uh. We were fighting, and I might’ve kissed Scott to throw him off, but it ended up being the push to snap him out of it and fight against the corruption,” Jimmy explained with a blush. Scott looked at Jimmy with a perplexed expression.

“Jimmy… I didn’t do anything against the corruption. It- before I woke up with you uh… holding me, the last thing I remembered was losing to another version of myself in some sort of red dreamscape. Your kiss saved me, not anything I did,” Scott explained. A series of adoring coos and gasps sounded from the group, and Jimmy felt his face burn.

“True love was the key this whole time?” Shelby pondered, looking down at the shulker box she held with the now contained corruption.

“Well- I- surely it’s gotta be more than that,” Jimmy managed to get out, feeling incredibly flustered.

“So a mix of love and wills, then. It sounded like Scott maybe could have beaten it on his own, he just needed the extra help!” Shelby replied with a shrug. Scott frowned.

“I don’t know, honestly. The other me- it- he?- was mostly toying with me, I think. Said something about how ‘he’ would be pleased to know that I was specifically under the corruption’s control,” Scott explained shakily.

“He?” Gem asked, brows furrowed in concern.

“The other me referred to some other person that he was sent by, maybe? Then when I asked about who the ‘he’ was, the other me said something about how I didn’t ‘remember’ and how that made me easy to control,” Scott continued.

“The corruption is sentient?!” Shelby gasped, holding the shulker box away from herself.

“And apparently sent by someone else? And seemed to already know you somehow?” Gem pondered. Scott shrugged helplessly.

“I don’t know. All I know is that it’s gone now, and I’m extremely glad for that,” Scott said, voice tight with nerves as the barrage of questions began to overwhelm him.

“And we’re glad you’re okay too!” Katherine piped up, stepping forward with a smile, clearly picking up on Scott’s discomfort. Scott blinked in surprise at her words.

“You.. are?” he asked in disbelief. Katherine just looked as surprised, if not more, than Scott did. The others had a mixture of concern and confusion on their faces as well, and Scott shifted uncomfortably at the attention.

“Why would I not be?” Katherine asked. Scott swallowed nervously.

“I- I knew about Fwhip’s plan for the ball, and didn’t say anything. Your- your castle was destroyed because I was too afraid to do anything about it,” he replied, voice barely above a whisper, as if he was afraid speaking any louder would awaken the wrath of those around him. An almost wounded expression came across Katherine’s face.

“Scott, even if I was still mad at you when we found you lying in front of Gem’s home, I wouldn’t have wanted you to die. Besides, between Fwhip’s gloating monologue and what we knew from what Pearl and Gem had told us, we know that you weren’t exactly a willing participant in Fwhip’s plan,” Katherine said softly, taking a slow step closer to Scott. His wings shifted anxiously, and Jimmy gently squeezed Scott’s arm to comfort him.

“I- you’re not mad?” he asked, voice still hushed and timid. Katherine smiled gently.

“No, I’m not. If castles can be rebuilt, so can friendships,” Katherine replied softly, holding out her arms. Scott barely hesitated at the invitation, letting go of Jimmy to instead hug Katherine tightly. Any remaining tension Scott held seemed to melt away as Katherine hugged him back. He hesitantly drew back after a few moments, a contemplative expression on his face.

“Is something wrong?” Jimmy asked. He reached out towards him, intending to put a comforting hand on his shoulder- but was pleasantly surprised by Scott taking his hand and tugging him closer so that they could stand side-by-side, fingers intertwined. Jimmy felt his face flush, and Scott smirked at him for a brief moment before schooling his expression into something more serious.

“So now that the uh- the corruption is dealt with. For now. Hopefully. Anyway what I’m trying to say is- what do we do about Fwhip and Sausage?” Scott asked. The others exchanged glances, seemingly having an entire conversation without words that Jimmy was hopelessly unable to decipher. Scott didn’t look like he knew what was going on either, and seemed a little apprehensive at that fact.

“We’ll protect you,” Katherine said firmly. The rest of the group nodded in agreement. Jimmy found himself nodding too- and to his shock, Scott seemed a little flustered.

“I- that’s a nice gesture, but not really what I meant- I was talking about them in a more general sense, not just if they try to come after me specifically. Again,” Scott explained with a sheepish laugh.

“Well I can definitely handle whatever they throw at us. Fwhip ran like a coward after I chased him away a few days ago,” Pearl said with a confident grin.

“Sausage won’t be an issue either, not with my magic to defend us!” Gem added.

“If I’m not gonna take out my rage on Scott for playing with Jimmy’s heart, then I guess I can settle for Fwhip or Sausage,” Lizzie said with a shrug. Scott paled slightly, and Jimmy frowned at Lizzie with a disapproving glare.

“Lizzie, you don’t need to be mad at him anymore, we made up!” Jimmy protested, raising their joined hands as proof.

“Think a little more than that happened,” Pixl commented dryly. Joel let out a laugh that he was quick to stifle, pushing at Pixl with one hand while covering his mouth with the other. Lizzie rolled her eyes at the two of them before looking at Jimmy again.

“Well I’m not mad because of that, but how do I know he’s good enough for you?” Lizzie said, glaring at Scott in a way that Jimmy could tell was playful, but Scott didn’t seem to realize that, wings stiffening before relaxing as he took a deep breath.

“I know I have a lot to make up for. And I know it’s not gonna be as easy as me nearly dying on you all to gain your trust again. But I’m willing to make an effort-” Scott paused, looking at Jimmy the gentlest he ever had, the ice in his eyes melting for Jimmy and for Jimmy alone- “because he’s worth it.”

“Scott…” Jimmy trailed off, unsure of what to say after all of that. Scott just smiled at him and squeezed his hand. Lizzie just blinked at them, dumbfounded for a moment.

“I was mostly just messing with you, but… I’m glad to know that you’re serious about him,” Lizzie said with a smile. Scott let out a breath of relief, smiling back before his expression settled into something more resolute.

“Speaking of serious, we should probably discuss more concrete defense plans in case of any other sort of attack from Fwhip and Sausage,” Scott said. Various sounds and mutters of agreement filled the room, and they began discussing defensive strategies- things like making moats, building walls, and sharpening their fighting skills. Jimmy didn’t contribute much to the conversation, not that he exactly had much to offer- but even if he did, he was too busy listening to Scott with rapt attention, a smitten expression on his face all the while.

-

Taglists below! Let me know if you wanna be added/removed to/from either!

MCYT General Fic Taglist: @corazon10000 @damiensaidno @franticfandomfanatic @gattonero17 @hetapeep41 @space-ace123 @vyeoh 

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[angelasscribbles]

Go Your Own Way

Series: None, this is a one-shot and you can find those here.

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairing: None

Rating: Teen

Warnings for this chapter: none

Summary: Olivia withdraws from the social season, but it’s not exactly cannon....

A/N: This is a one shot from Olivia’s POV. But who knows? It could turn into a whole thing, maybe.

Song Inspiration: Go Your Own Way by Fleetwood Mac

Catch up here: Master List.

Oliva fidgeted with her necklace as she checked her reflection for the twentieth time. She didn’t think she had ever been this nervous before. She was sure of her decision; she just didn’t know how to make him understand.

Her mind drifted back to a million little encounters between them. From their shared childhood in the palace to the current social season. She knew he needed to choose a wife, a queen. She knew he hated this entire process. She knew he wanted to marry for love, not just duty. Sadly, she also knew that she was not the woman that could fill that role for him. She had to withdraw from the social season, and she was planning to tell him tonight.

She wore red, of course. Not only did she look fabulous in it, but it gave her the extra confidence boost to do what she needed to do. The thought of bringing him pain hurt her, it did, but she had to be true to herself; no matter where that lead her.

She put the finishing touches on her hair and put in her earrings. Memories of him ran through her mind. His hand reaching back for her when he was twelve, smiling down as he helped her scramble up into an apple tree behind him. His mischievous smile when they would sneak downstairs after bedtime and raid the kitchen. Their late-night talks when they were teenagers. The way it felt to kiss him under the stars in Lythikos. The way it felt when she was spinning in his arms during the Cordonian waltz.

She squeezed her eyes shut at the pang of sorrow that ran through her. She hesitated for a bare second. Maybe she should stay. She shook her head to clear it. No, no, her mind was made up. She wasn’t ready. Not to be queen, not to be married, not to give up on her dreams. She had to leave; it would be easier for both of them that way.

She made her way through the palace to the wing that housed the royal family and was waved through. “Go ahead, the prince is expecting you.”

She had texted ahead; he knew she was coming. She made her way to his room, a route she knew well. She raised her hand to knock, but before she could, the door opened and there he was giving her that radiant smile, with all that boyish charm behind it.

“Livvie! Come in!” He grabbed her and drug her through the door, pulling her in for a close hug. “What’s the matter, couldn’t wait for the ball tonight?”

He pulled back to gaze down into her face and his smile faltered, “Liv, what’s wrong?” His brow furrowed in worry.

“I…we have to talk.”

“Well, that’s never good.” He watched her, waiting for what she had to say.

She looked up into his piercing blue eyes, the curve of his face, the set of his jaw, the blonde hair casually swept back, all so familiar to her. She had known him most of her life. She had loved him, had made love to him. She hated herself a little for what she was about to do. Better to just get it over with. She inhaled a deep breath and blurted out, “I’m withdrawing from the social season.”

“What? Why? What’s wrong? Has something happened? Is it my father? I swear to God Liv, I refuse to let him control who I-“

“Stop, no.” She was shaking her head from side to side willing herself not to cry. “Nothing like that. This is my decision and mine alone. I’m just not ready for…any of this.”

His mouth fell open, “Are you fucking kidding me right now, Liv? Seriously? What the actual fuck? The ball is tonight! I’m expected to choose, tonight! You know damn good and well that I’m going to choose you!” He was pacing now, the expression on his face somewhere between frantic and blindsided.

“I know,” she croaked out as the tears slipped from her eyes despite her best efforts, “That’s why I have to withdraw, I have to leave-“

“Leave? When? Where are you going? You can’t just-“

“I can and I am. Tonight, I’m going home to Lythikos.”

“Liv, why? I thought we were going to have a future together! I don’t want to do this without you! Have I done something wrong? If so, tell me, please, give me a chance to fix it!” He looked completely bewildered and it was breaking her a little.

“No, nothing, you’re perfect, you always have been. It’s me. I’m just…I’m not ready, I can’t-“

His face froze for a moment then the pain gave way to anger, “Yeah, ok, I get it Liv. I know exactly what the fucking problem is. You can go.”

“What? No, I can’t leave you like this, I need you to understand-“

“Oh, I understand. I understand only too well. It’s the same problem I’ve always had when it comes to you, isn’t it? The same problem every man who’s ever tried to get close to you has, right?”

“What are you talking about?”

He laughed and it was a sharp, bitter sound, “There’s really no need to play dumb. You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

She wanted to deny it, but she knew what he meant, and she knew it was true. Instead, she dropped her head and whispered, “I’m so sorry.”

“No, I’m the one who’s sorry. I should have fucking known better. After everything we’ve shared, everything we’ve been to one another, I thought things had changed. I can give you anything you want Liv, I can make you a queen, I can give you an entire kingdom, a crown, power, money, jewels, anything you want. But I can’t be the one thing you want you want most, can I? My brother!” He practically spat the last word at her.

The tears slid down her cheeks, “Leo-“she reached out to touch him but he brushed her hand away.

“Just get out Olivia.”

“Leo, please-“

His jaw tightened and his voice was barely above a whisper when spoke, “I said get out. Don’t make me call the guards.”

She stood for a moment in shock. She had expected him to be hurt, but this was a different level. It was only in that moment that she realized the depth of his feelings for her, realized the magnitude of the wound she had just inflicted. Sadly, it was also the moment she realized that her feelings for Liam notwithstanding, she loved him just as deeply. But it was too late, she had just dealt a death blow to their relationship. She turned and walked away.

[wwilloww]

backstage | myg

Pairing: Idol!Yoongi x Reader

Genre:  Smut.

Rating: Explicit.  

WC: 4.2k

Summary: With the sounds of the stadium still ringing in his ears, Yoongi just needs to get away — just for a moment. And you have exactly the right idea about how to distract him.

Warnings: bathroom sex. oral (m receiving). implicit themes of powerplay. dirty talk. mild hair pulling. throat fucking. super duper like barely visible breathplay. penetrative sex. unprotected sex (don’t be a silly goose!! wrap it before ya tap it!). themes of exhibitionism. creampie. cumplay. mentions of group sex.

AN: What was supposed to be a simple 1k of smut turned into 4k of… more smut. What originally started as a challenge to write a bj in a way I enjoyed turned into 4k of a bj that I really enjoyed. I have to give 1 million baskets of thanks to Renae @mygsii​ and Lil @hesperantha​ for being the most incredible beta readers out there. They put so much time and energy into this and helped me sculpt this into its final version. And of course, thank you to the crew at BTS Smut Hub for their eternal thirst and support. Ya keep me going. 

|| masterlist || navigation ||

©️wwilloww Do not repost, translate, or use my stories without my permission. 

Backstage

Yoongi sighs, letting his eyes fall shut as he leans back against the door. The sound of the screaming crowd still rings in his ears, muffling the sounds of the world around him. He can still feel the rhythm and vibration of tonight’s music reverberating through his bones. If anything, the combination of exhaustion and overstimulation should have left him dead to the world. But instead every nerve in his body is alight, singing in sensitivity.

He’d needed air away from the post-concert bustle. The smallest details were grating on his nerves, even when they should have been insignificant, unnoticeable. He’d been so busy lately, no time for the things that actually brought him pleasure. He needed to get away, just for a moment.

With one hand tangled in your hair, the other gripping the doorknob, he looks down at you. All he can think is that he’d never seen anything quite so angelic. Your eyes turned devotedly up to him, lashes fluttering so sweetly — you could be sucking on a lollipop.

“God, you look so fucking cute sucking my dick.”

The timbre of his voice resonates through you, going straight to your cunt. The tight pout you have around him turns up as you try not to smile, mouth full of cock.

“You couldn’t fucking wait until we got home before you needed cock? Are you that desperate?”

You answer with your eyes, a mischievous glint sparking through them.

He had been stealing glances at you the whole night, searching the darkness of the wings for your familiar figure. Every swell and curve of your body was so familiar to him now that he swore he could have spotted you even if you were lost in the masses of the audience. What would it have been like for you to be out there, your eyes locking together? Hunting through a sea of searching hands to find your undeniable steadiness and gleaming presence. There’s a part of him that thinks that even with the lights blinding him and the unending wave of faces that he would know you were out there, would be able to feel your company.

Still, he chased your gaze in the crowd of stage hands and stylists and technicians. You were hidden away, watching him perform from a small break in the stage. The whole night you had watched, aptly glancing between the performance screen and the small crack, just waiting for Yoongi to pop into view on your small sliver of sight. And everytime he did, you couldn’t help but glow, a smile pouring across your face and lighting up your entire being.

You’d seen him rehearse, of course. You’d seen him perform in front of cameras and studio audiences and at awards shows. But this was different. There was an extra sharpness to his movements, a force behind his voice. The energy of the audience was undeniable and you knew it pushed him forward to perform the best you’d ever seen him perform.

You grabbed his hand almost immediately after he had stepped off stage, wrapping him in a tight hug.

“I’m so proud of you,” you mumbled into his chest. You held him there in silence, heart full of awe and admiration. It was a moment before you looked up to see a stylist just standing there, still holding a towel to his face. You quickly apologized to her, as she continued to try to pat the sweat off of his face. Technicians and staff and members bustled around, everyone jostling into one another. Even as you held his hand, he looked lost. As you watched, you noticed frustration flit across his face, saw his slip into stubbornness as she continued to do her job. You’d seen this look before and knew it well: overload.

In a snap decision, you tugged him away without explanation to the woman still dabbing his forehead or any of the members busting around him, mumbling “Come with me.” You left the poor stylist stuttering and flustered behind you as you dragged him— much to his protest— to the closest single bathroom.

Slamming the door shut, you turned him around so he was leaning against the frame.  

“Are you okay?” you asked softly.

He nodded, leaning into your touch as you reached up to hold his face between your hands. You let your thumbs run over the pink of his cheeks until you saw the frustration dissipate from his features. You knew he was tired. Knew he was riding the high of the concert. Knew he was stuck somewhere between excitement and overwhelm. As soon as the crease in his brow softened, you pressed a kiss to his lips. Light, fluttering. Just enough to ground the both of you.

“What did you think?” he asked when you pulled back, searching your eyes.

“You’re amazing.”

“Everyone did so well tonight, I was—”

“No. You’re amazing.” you repeated. “You.”

He began to reach for your lips again, that heavy-lidded look that you loved so much taking over his features. But instead of taking him into your embrace, you pushed him back against the door, his back hitting the solid wood with a slight thud.

“Let me,” you said, swatting away his wandering hands. “Hands off.” You stepped back, letting your hand wander up the warm skin of your arm until you reached the strap of your dress, teasing it between your fingers. “You’re frustrated. And you’ve been working so hard. Don’t you think you’ve earned something for all of your efforts?”

You watched him swallow, his adam’s apple bobbing. Ever-so-slowly, you began to slide the soft fabric down your body, taking your sweet time as you did so. Even as your attentions were focused on dragging out this moment as long as possible — making him wait for you — your gaze was focused on his features. His every movement. The way his eyes darkened, his head tilting down to better gaze upon you, his jaw dropping ever so slightly as he watched on. As the dress came down to your hips, you let go and it pooled around your ankles.

Delicately, you stepped over it and towards the dazed man in front of you.

“No bra?” he gulped. You shook your head as he swallowed and righted himself, his voice dropping as he spoke.  “You walked around all night with nothing on, but that tiny piece of fabric underneath that dress?”

“Mhmm,” you hummed, walking towards him. “Just for you.”

“Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“Would you really have been able to focus on stage — thinking about me, like this, just waiting for you?”

He reached for you then, rather than answering you, but you pushed his hands away and slid to your knees before him. You made quick work of unbuckling his belt, not bothering to pull his pants down before you pulled his already-hard cock out of his boxers.

“How long have you been hard?” you asked, slowly stroking him, watching the way his cock twitched in your hand.

“For the past hour.”

“Good.” You smirked up at him before opening your mouth just enough that he could see your pink tongue. “Then use me.” He sucked a harsh breath in. With one hand still wrapped around his length, you leaned closer and let the head rest heavy on your tongue.

Seeing you like this, so perfectly laid out for him, feeling the cushiony softness of your tongue against the base of his cock, Yoongi couldn’t help but groan, his hips thrusting involuntarily towards you.

You’d had enough teasing. You had wrapped your lips around him and took him into your mouth.

He fell apart beneath your touch.

And now you slowly slide down his length, taking as much of him into the wet warmth of your mouth as possible. He watches as your lips wrap even tighter around him, the perfect mix of pout and absolute devastation. You swirl your tongue against the bottom of his cock to the best of your ability as you bob up and down on him.

He groans. Loudly. Loud enough that you hear a muffled “What the fuck was that?” on the other side of the door.

Your sharp inhale of breath, still wrapped around him, catches his attention.

“You like knowing that someone out there knows I’ve got my cock down your throat, don’t you?”

The sharpness of his words sends a shock straight through your body. You nod to the best of your ability. Other than the hand he has in your hair, you hadn’t let him touch you all night — and because of that you are left overly sensitive to his every word, his every touch.

“Good girl.”

Cunt clenching involuntarily at the words, you’re thankful you left your panties on, knowing you’d be dripping down your thighs by now if you had opted to take them off.

Usually, you would take it slow. Torture his orgasm out of him like it was something to be built towards, drawn out. But tonight you are chasing his pleasure, watching every little fold in his brow, noticing every moment his grip in your hair tightened, feeling every time his clothed thighs tensed beneath your grasp.

He’s still dressed in his last outfit of the concert. His brow glistens with sweat. The flush on his face is a mixture of the remnants of his performance and the pleasure you were currently coaxing from him.

“Fuck my mouth, baby,” you say, pulling off of his cock long enough to let the words slip out. A trail of saliva connects your swollen lips to the head of his dick, red and darkened with his near-painful arousal.

“How can you be so adorable and say such filthy things?”

It was more of a muse than an actual question. He loved your duality. Your ability to flirt and play so innocently out in public, and then flip a switch as soon as the door was closed. And not just the bedroom door, he thinks. Any door, apparently.

He is quick to press his hand to the back of your neck to pull you back to his crotch, the head of his cock bumping up against your cheek. He quickly wraps a hand around the base, teasing your searching lips with the bulbous head. You chase him, whining when he chuckles. It isn’t until you look up to him, a serious pout falling across your lips that he finally feeds it to you.

You take him in one go, the tip of his cock bumping against the back of your throat. It hits just hard enough that you gag. He tries to slow his motions—to pull back— but you blink away your tears and glance up at him, before pushing down further, knowing you could take it, knowing you want to take it.

A choked moan slips out of him as you ease him into your throat, the tightness of your pulsing walls sending stars through his body. Hands gripping his thighs like they were the only things in the world, you begin to pulse back and forth. When you look up at him, he is gazing down at you, that mix of power and desire that you so love dancing in his eyes.

You release him from your throat, gasping hoarsely.

“Is that all you can take?” He slips both of his hands into your hair where they tangle with your thick locks. The hardness of his many rings presses against your scalp, offered a startling contrast to the strength of his hands and the gentle tug of your hair. He waits for a moment, gauging your unyielding eye contact to make sure you could. As soon as he recognizes that spark in your eyes and feels your hands squeeze twice around him—your signal of consent—he’s  moving again, easing his thick cock back into you.

He pushes fully into your mouth, a deep graveled groan ripping through his chest as the tightness of your throat wraps around him. Beginning to thrust, he tightens his grip in your hair, bobbing your head to his own pace. You do your best to relax the muscles in your neck and throat, to erase everything but the sensation of the man you love fucking in and out of your mouth.

His pace is perfect, not too fast, not too slow. You feel the head of his cock push past your uvula and into your throat. With one hand, you reach up, your hand coming to wrap around your own throat.

Beneath the sensitive skin of your hand, you feel his tip bulging through the delicate skin with each thrust and you groan at the sensation. He shudders at the reverberations of your voice, pulsing through him. There’s something wild, indescribably dirty, to the feeling of his cock through your skin, to feeling him chasing his orgasm from inside and outside you at the same time. His nails scrape deliciously against your scalp as you continue to moan around him, the vibrations of your pleasure coursing through his cock and straight up his spine.

“Take all of it, baby,” he grunts, and you know he’s close to his release. Your hand tightens around your throat, tears springing to your eyes, drool dripping down your chin.

As Yoongi looks down on you—mascara running and mouth sloppy with a mix of your drool and his precum—arousal sears through his body. The absolute devotion in your eyes pushes him further towards the edge.

Tonight was supposed to be about you, too. Even though you had been around the other guys for months now, this was your first stadium concert, your chance to really step into his world— and yet here you are on your knees in a backstage bathroom with a very thin door, just for him.

What had he ever done to deserve someone like you?

He thrusts his hips forward into your waiting mouth, earning a delighted moan from you. He is so close— so close to his release, so close to pouring himself out down your warm, waiting throat. That unmistakable warmth sears through his abdomen, pulling him closer, drawing him nearer to— he feels your hand tap gently twice against his thigh, your tell for him to release you.

He stops immediately, gripping his cock as he pulls out of the confines of your throat and untangles his grip from your hair. He drops to his knees before you, reaching for you. His thumb brushes over the streams of mascara off of your cheeks.

“You alright, love?” The dominating tone is gone now, concern in its place.

You smile at him, coming to place your hand over the one that cupped your cheek. It’s a sweet, loving gesture — and you sigh into it — but all sense of sweetness is broken by your next words.  

“I need you to fuck me.”

“I— uh, what? Are you sure?”

“I need you to fuck me,” you repeat, seriously. “I can’t believe you would think I could go without your cock all night — that I could walk out of here without your cum dripping down my legs.” You pout.

Just like that, he’s pulling you to your feet and spinning you around so that your waist hits the cold marble of the sink. With absolute control, he runs his hand up your spine until it reaches the middle and he pushes, adding a delicious arch to your back.

He is quick to line himself up with your sopping entrance, pulling the fabric of your panties to the side so he can slide the head of his cock through your dripping folds.

“Did sucking my cock make you this wet?” You whine, pushing back on him, desperate to feel him fill you. He clucks his tongue. “You’re so eager to please, maybe I should just shove my cock right back down your throat and take my own pleasure.”

“Noo,” you whine wantonly. “Need you.” You look up at the pair of you in the mirror. Your eyes are dark and filled with lust, face stained with mascara and remnants of his fucking. You are bare naked, minus the thin straps of your panties. Behind you, Yoongi stands fully clothed, his belt unbuckled just enough for him to grip his cock and hold it against you. The top button of his shirt has come undone, revealing a sheen of sweat. But it’s his face, the look he wears, that captures you.

Pure, unadulterated adoration dresses his features as he meets your gaze in the mirror.

He hooks a finger under your panties, pulling them to the side, and runs a thumb over your entrance. Your back arches at the touch, having denied yourself for so long.

Without warning, he presses the head of his cock to your entrance and begins to slide in.

Getting him off had always been a practice in edging yourself. You’d learned this over the months you’d spent with the beautiful man behind you. The more you saw his pleasure unravel before you, the more pleasure you felt. It didn’t matter if you weren’t particularly interested in whatever it was you were doing — you were interested in him. So as his thick girth begins to fill you, the new sensation bursts through your senses, searing your cunt with pleasure.

You let loose a whine, one that feels like it was pulled from the depths of your abdomen. Primal. Wanting. “Yoongi,” you gasp.

“What the fuck is going on in there?!” You hear someone call from the other side of the door, but you choose to ignore them, instead turning your attention to pushing back on Yoongi’s cock.

“Did you lock the door?” you pant.

“No — did you?”

“No.” He turns to lock it, but you stop him, reaching behind you to grab his arm. 

“Leave it. Just fuck me, please.”

He grins at you in the mirror. “Fuck,” he hisses. “You like the idea of someone walking in on you?” You groan, your cunt clenching around him at his words. “To see you split open on my cock, moaning my name like only I can make you?”

“Yes,” you choke out as he rams into you especially hard. “Wan’ them to know.”

“To know what?”

“That you’re mine.”

Yoongi swivels his hips against yours, drawing a particularly loud moan from you.

“Fuck.”

“Touch yourself,” he growls. “Make yourself come on my cock.”

You whimper, your body shaken by his relentless thrusts. Still, you reach down, fingers drifting over the sensitive bundle of nerves.

Yoongi continues to rail into you, his hips grinding in a slight circle each time he bottoms out. Even as your breath hitches in your throat as you begin your ministrations on your clit — slow circles, building in strength and speed — all you can think about iss the way he bit his lip as he looked down on you. The way his brow furrowed in delicious concentration like you were the only thing worth paying attention to in the world.

He adjusts his grip on your hips, his long fingers pressing into your abdomen. You know there will be bruises there tomorrow.

The new grip allows him to thrust up into you with a new viciousness.

“Fuck, princess, you’re so tight around me.”

The glaze in his eyes tells you he is close to his release and so you increase your pace, the sensation of his cock pounding into you and the calculated swirl of your fingers building the perfect tension.

“Ah, fuck, gonna cum,” Yoongi hisses.

“Cum inside,” you beg.

He groans at your words. You want him as deep within you as you could possibly get him. Want him on you, in you, surrounding you.

With one final thrust, he wraps his arms around you, pressing his clothed torso to your bare back. He thrusts shallowly a couple times before a thin groan resonates through his chest and you can feel his cock twitch within you, painting your walls with his cum.

With a cry, you feel the watery band of pleasure snap inside of you. You fall forward, catching yourself on your elbows as you feel Yoongi’s hand drift down to your clit, circling you through your pleasure.

His breath is heavy, shakey against your back. The two of you stay like that for a while, just breathing together.

Yoongi pulls out, tucking himself back into his pants. He begins to reach for one of the hand towels in the stack but you hold your hand out.

“Keep it in,” you whisper. His eyes shoot up to yours. With a slight grin, he pulls your panties back over your cunt, sealing his cum inside you. With a playful tap to your still-sensitive mound, he stands, hands pressed into your hips.

“You’re gonna keep that inside for me, hm?” he murmurs into your ear, the brush of his words raising goosebumps on your skin. “You’re gonna walk around all night with my cum still inside of you. You’re gonna leave it in until we get back to the hotel and I can fuck it out of you again.”

Your eyes widen as you looked at Yoongi.

If he keeps talking like that, you’d be ready to go again in a minute. And judging by the semi he was sporting, he would be too.

You giggle to yourself as you pull your dress back on. Yoongi has finished dressing and now stands, facing the mirror, picking through his hair as he continues to steal glances at you. You are glad you brought your purse into the bathroom. You reach in to pull out a pack of makeup removers. Just as you are about to dab away the mix of tears and mascara from your cheeks, you feel Yoongi’s fingers wrap around your wrist.

“Here,” he says softly. “Let me.”

You smile at the man, a pink flush still painting his cheeks. Ever so gently he wipes away the black makeup from your face, taking his time to make sure he doesn’t pull at your skin or miss a spot.

“All done,” he says, tossing the wipe into the trash can. “Good as new.”

You turn back to the mirror. Makeupless, fuck evident, but good enough.

“Thanks babe,” you say, pulling him tight against you and kissing him lightly. Your tongue skates over the pink swell of his lower lip, but the kiss remains light and playful. He sighs into you, his hand running up your back.

“I love you,” he mumbles against your lips before stepping back. “Ready?”

“Ready.”

Yoongi reaches for the doorknob.

“Oh!” You can feel your mixed cum beginning to leak out of your cunt and run down your leg. You snap your legs together, impulsively reaching out to Yoongi to grasp onto his arm as a nervous laugh bursts out of you.

“What—” His eyes flicker downwards to where a rivulet of white shines on the skin of your inner thigh. The dress you wore tonight is short, and leaves little to the imagination. But the image of his, his cum running down your inner thigh has him swallowing hard, his hand coming into a fist as his heart jumps into his throat.

Your eyes are large, blinking up at him as his hand comes down to rest on your waist. Ever-so-slowly, he kneels before you, eyes level with your hips. Gently, he pushes your leg aside so your thighs are no longer clenched together and rolls the hem of your dress up.

“Wha—”

“Shh,” he hushes you.

Looking up at you, he leans in. His pink tongue darts out between swollen lips and he presses it to the inside of your leg. You gasp at the warmth. In the afterglow of your orgasm, your whole body sings with sensitivity.

Slowly, deliberately, he licks up the trail of his own come, collecting the white substance into his mouth. You nearly groan at the sight. When he reaches your panties, he closes his mouth and swallows, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh before rising to his feet. You run a hand through his hair, tugging him to you. As he kisses you, you can taste the mix of both of your juices on his tongue and you press deeper into the salty taste.

“We should go back,” Yoongi murmurs against you. “Before anyone thinks we’ve gone missing.” He chuckles in your hair, finally unlocking the door.

Jimin stands there, his mouth agape.

“Why do you always have to be so fucking loud?” he asks with a scowl, shaking the shock out of his eyes. “Like great, we all know you have a killer sex life, do you have to rub it in our faces too?” he grumbles.

You chuckle, pulling your friend into a side hug.

“Maybe next time you should join us, and we can do something about that bruised ego of yours.” You wink at Yoongi, feeling his hand settle heavy on your lower back as you rejoin the sway of the crowd.

“Maybe,” he growls into your ear. He pulls you tight against him as he smirks at Jimin.

taglist: @thatmultifandomhoe​ @spicykoreantatertots​@usuallynervoussheep​@hesperantha​ @myimaginationsrunningwild​​ @ot7always​​ @thatlongspringnight​​ @ladyartemesia​ @ppersonna​ @ezralia-writes​

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[a-plethora-of-peters]

You talked about peaceful worlds (/derogatory), but what about hardcore worlds?

Ah yes... Hardcore servers. They're fun and (usually safe) though sometimes... well let me tell you what sometimes happens with hardcore servers...

(Warning for discussion about death, and a bit of unreality regarding said death)

~0.0~

Hardcore worlds aren't supposed to end in permadeath.

They are specially coded so that when you die there, you return to your private server, a friend's server, or even just the general server hub.

Some skilled admins are capable of altering the coding of hardcore worlds to make special rules outside of the usual "you only get one life" rule. Things like giving you extra lives or temporarily making you a hybrid upon your death or tying your life to another person so that if one of you dies, you both die or even letting you gift your life to another person.

Sometimes though, unexpected things happen.

A natural disaster happens to destroy not just your spawn but your whole hardcore server. A pair of hands, one pair the pale blue of a drowned corpse and the other pair the brilliant red of a fresh apple gently hold onto you as they help you from the shattered remains of your server. Pure green eyes the color of emeralds and new leaves glow and pure orange eyes the color of nautilus shells and autumn leaves shimmer as the pair of Demons laugh and congratulate you on your good run this time around. The Lava King and The Ice Queen tell you that you'll just have to try again next time and they'll be rooting for you.

The code to older hardcore worlds sometimes glitch, fragmenting these lost servers into nothing. He looks fairly plain, in his blue and tan clothes, his brown hair cut short and his blue eyes clear like a summer's day sky. He holds a copper lantern with a lit candle inside in his one hand and he offers the other to you with a kind smile. The Copper King assures you that you will not be forgotten, that he will light a Vigil candle for you.

Sometimes something happens to entrap you in a deathloop in the ocean. You're hauled onto the deck of a ship where an Anthro Sheep hybrid with rainbow dyed fur and a captain's hat waits. She hauls you to your feet and pushes you towards the rigging, tells you to help out. Davy Jones smirks at you and tells you that everyone that sets foot on her vessel needs to help steer the ship back to port.

Occasionally, you're fighting off 5 different mobs at once and a creeper blows all of you up at the same time confusing the coding of your server. Massive wings of night black feathers that shimmer with a rainbow sheen surround you like a guardian's embrace. Golden hair and bight blue eyes gleam alongside a mischievous smile from under the brim of a green and white striped bucket hat. The Passing Crow hybrid bumps his shoulders with yours and grins. His words are warm and full of love as The Angel of Death tells you that you're going to love meeting his wife.

Sometimes things go wrong.

But that's not always a bad thing.

[lillywillow]

Papa Bird

Summary: When Sam’s oldest daughter is chosen to represent her dojo in a state-wide taekwondo championship for her age group, she requests that her mother take her to the fight, leaving Sam home to take care of his youngest daughter

 Word Count:1871

 Square Filled: Next Generation Fic

 Pairings: Sam Wilson x Female Reader

 Warnings: Fluff, breaking objects, protective/ proud father

Written for @star-spangled-bingo

That morning, Sam was busy helping his wife prepare their daughter for her upcoming tournament. He was kind of sulking that Darlene wouldn’t let him come with her.

 “Remind me why I can’t go again...”

 “Daddy, I love you but sometimes you can be a little bit... extra. Remember when I won the finals?”

 “Can’t a father be proud of his daughter?”

 “You can be proud but you celebrated so loud, they had to escort you out the dojo... Oh! And remember when I lost that spelling bee final? You threatened to beat up the judge...”

 “Hey, you and I both know they were cheating,” he countered.

 “Daddy...”

 “Sam, you know your daughter has a point. Besides, it’ll give you a chance to spend some time with Amelia,” Y/N stated, pointing to the small girl who was happily enjoying her Cheerios. Sam smiled and kissed her head.

 “You wanna hang out with daddy today, kiddo?” Amelia nodded and offered him some of her Cheerios which he took making her give a cheeky grin.

  Sam couldn’t help but smile in return before helping Darlene get her stuff ready to go.

Once Amelia was done eating and the breakfast stuff had been cleaned up, Sam went to say goodbye to Darlene and his Y/N.

 “Say, bye, mama.”

 “Bye, mama,” Amelia cooed, opening and closing her small hand in a wave.

 “Bye, Darlene. You go out there and kick some major a-butt,” Sam caught himself before he swore in front of Amelia and after seeing the reproachful look from his wife. Darlene grinned at her father and got in the car.

 Sam watched with Amelia as they pulled out down the drive.

 “What do you want to do now, pumpkin?”

 “Red Wing?”

 “You wanna play with Red Wing? Okay, let’s go play with Red Wing...”

 A few moments later, Sam was controlling the drone while Amelia gleefully chased after it, squealing in delight. He got a little carried away and accidently knocked a vase from its perch and shattering on the floor as a quasi-violent reminder as to why he was not to use the drone inside the house. This time, Sam did let out an expletive.

 “I tell mama!”

 “No, no, no! Don’t tell your mother! Here, let’s get you a cookie. Do you want a cookie?”

 Sam ran to get a cookie for Amelia which bought him a few moments of silence as he cleaned up the broken fragments of the vase.

 “Okay, let’s go to the park instead. You wanna walk to the park?”

 “Yeah! Park!” Sam smiled at her and went to prepare her little outing bag.

...

 At the park, Sam watched Amelia run around playing and giving him a rest for a while.

 “Hey, man...” Sam looked up to see Clint standing there, coffee cup in one hand and Lucky’s leash in the other.

 “Hey, Clint. What are you doing here?”

 “Taking Lucky for a walk... and your missus wanted us to check on you,” Clint replied, getting his phone and showing Sam the group message and sitting next to him. Sam grumbled a bit.

 “She just wants to make sure you’re not driving yourself crazy... So, Darlene has a tournament today, huh?”

 “Yeah... I am so proud of that girl. She’s already got her red belt and almost up to her next...” Before Clint could respond, a shrill scream filled the air. The two heroes jumped to their feet in preparation for danger only to see Amelia tearing across the yard.

 “Doggy! Doggy, doggy, doggy!” Amelia was so excited to see Lucky.

 “Amelia, what do you say?”

 “I pat doggy? Pwease?” Amelia looked up at Clint with her big brown eyes and melting his heart.

 “Yeah, you can pat Lucky,” he smiled. Amelia threw her arms around the dog’s neck and snuggled him. Lucky licked her head in return.

 Clint let Lucky off his leash so he could go off to play with Amelia.

 “That girl’s gonna be the death of me,” Sam sighed and sat back down. Clint laughed and sat back down next to him.

 “Takes after you...”

 “I know and that’s the bit that scares me...”

 The two men continued talking and catching up when they were suddenly alerted Lucky’s frantic barking. They looked up to see Amelia had climbed up a high piece of playground equipment and was about to jump down to a lower platform. To the older and bigger kids, the jump may have not been so bad but to a child as small as Amelia, it could be disastrous.

 “Amelia! Get down from there right this instant!” Sam bellowed, getting up to stomp over to her.

 Amelia gave her father a sidewise glance before deciding she was going to make that jump anyway. Sam managed to get there in time just as her feet launched from the surface, catching her midair.

 “Again, again!” she cheered.

 “No, no more,” Sam breathed, walking back to Clint. “I think we’re going to go home for lunch. Besides, one of us needs a change of diaper.”

 “Not me! I big girl! I use potty!” Amelia stated as a matter of factly.

 “Right, just daddy then...” Clint laughed and called Lucky over to him.

 “Listen, you won’t tell her mother about that little incident, will you?”

 “Hey man, I won’t bring it up but if she asks, I’m not gonna lie,” he grinned.

 “Great thanks,” he grumbled. “Anyway, see you later.” Clint said goodbye and headed off as Sam packed up Amelia’s things.

 “Daddy mad?” Amelia asked her little lip stuck out in a pout.

 “No, daddy’s not mad. You scared daddy.”

 “I sowwy.”

 “It’s okay, baby girl. What do you want for lunch?”

 “PB ‘n J sammich?”

 “A peanut butter and jelly sandwich? I think that can be arranged.”

...

 After lunch, Sam put Amelia down for a nap which gave him the chance to complete a few chores without being interrupted by an enthusiastic three year old. He never thought he’d be suited to the quiet domestic lifestyle but he settled into it reasonable well. One thing Sam could never say was that it was dull. His daughters always kept him on his toes. When Darlene was Amelia’s age, she was just as mischievous and spirited. Sam wouldn’t trade his girls for the world.

 An hour had passed by the time Amelia woke up from her nap and wandered out into the living room and by now, Sam was watching some trashy day time TV.

 “Hey, Milly. Did you have a good sleep?” Amelia nodded, climbing up onto his lap and cuddling close to her father’s chest.

 “Daddy, I hungwy.”

 “You’re hungry? Let’s see what we can do about that. You want some... frog’s legs and wine? No? I thought all kids liked that stuff. How about some coffee and caviar? Not that either? What about...” Sam continued listing ridiculous food/ drink combinations that he knew a child wouldn’t eat as he made his way to the kitchen with her.

 “Cheese! I want cheese!” she blurted out before he could get out the next combo.

 “Oh, you want cheese... Should have guessed, huh? Let’s see if we have some,” he said, going to the pantry.

 “Hmm... well, it doesn’t look like we have any. Guess you’ll have to have broccoli and green tea after all.”

 “Daddy,” Amelia whined, pointing to the big bag of string cheese, her face visibly pained.

 “Look at that. We do have some after all. Guess you’ll want a juice box with that?” Sam laughed at the eager way she nodded her head.

 Once Amelia had finished her snack, Sam went back into the living room and changed the channel to the one that was locally streaming the tournament. Darlene’s division wasn’t yet up but it was coming soon. As he watched, Amelia got up and wobbled in front of the TV, ‘punching’ and ‘kicking’ like the big kids. Sam smiled and took a video of it to send to his family and friends later. He was sure that they were getting a little annoyed with the amount he could send in one day but he didn’t care. Sam loved each and every one of his girls’ achievements no matter how big or small.

 Finally, Darlene’s age group was up. Sam watched as she stepped up to the mat. From his seat at home, he was cheering her on as if he was there. Amelia cheered too, not entirely sure why but daddy was happy so it had to be good.

 Round after round Darlene won until it got to the last round. Darlene’s opponent was a girl much taller and bigger than her. Sam was on the edge of his seat as the match commenced. The girl was good but Darlene was better. It lasted a little longer than the others but in the end, Darlene won. Sam jumped up with a loud cheer.

 “Yes! She won! Darlene won!”

 “Yay!” Sam picked up Amelia and spun around with her. “Sissy won!”

 Sam felt his eyes tear up a bit as pride swelled in his chest. He quickly wiped them away and continued celebrating with Amelia. Sam couldn’t wait for Darlene to come home.

...

 Later that night, Sam had just given Amelia her bath and was putting her to bed when he heard the sounds of the front door.

 “I think mama and your big sister are finally home,” he smiled.

 “Yay!” Amelia ran to meet them, her little legs going as fast as they possibly carry her.

 Darlene scooped her up as soon she got close enough.

 “Hey there, baby sis!”

 “Sissy! Sissy! I saw’d you won! Watch me! Watch me!” Darlene put Amelia back on the ground so she could show her some of the ‘moves’ she had learned earlier in the day which included an attempt at a headstand for some reason.

 “Oh, wow! So good!”

 In the meantime, Y/N walked over to Sam, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and kissing him. Sam smiled against her lips.

 “Hey, handsome. Had a good day?” she smiled.

 “Pretty good. We went to the park this morning, came home for lunch, Amelia had her nap, then we watched Darlene kick some butt,” he grinned.

 “I see... you want to tell me why the vase in the hallway is no longer there?”

 “I would very much not like to...” Y/N could help but chuckle and shake her head. She looked over at the girls who were happily playing together.

 “We made some pretty awesome kids, Mr. Wilson,” she smiled.

 “We sure did, Mrs. Wilson,” he smiled back.

 For Sam, every day with his daughters was a new adventure as he watched them become the amazing people they were growing into. Sam loved every second of fatherhood and he couldn’t wait to see what tomorrow’s venture would bring.