#storms ocs

[strange0-0storm]

"LOSEN UP, 3! How'd you get soooo LAAAME"

Rare SMG4 Content RAAGH

[comicexpertt]

Oh my queen. I admire you.

[caemidraws]

La Tempesta

[sasukeuchiha-24]

Kakashi Hatake 🪷🍃

[kemendin]

Dhamari’s still working out how to cope with this whole ‘crush’ thing, okay Gale, give him some time

After laughing out loud at more than a few of @crocodiller’s BG3 comics, I knew they were the perfect artist to bring this silly idea of mine to life. Thank you for obliging me with this commission and for being a complete delight to work with!

[lady-nuggetz]

What X Men Autism does to a motherfucker.

This started as just a joke and then I had to find shitty doodles to draw everyone as.

Also I know no one knows the character in the right hand corner, say hi to my oc Haunter/Serenity everyone :3!!! OC X CANON STRIKES AGAIN.

[nohr-selphias]

"I love you, Zevran. I hope you know that."

"Yes... Yes, I know that."

— commission art by @sinizade, posted with permission

[startheskelaton]

Just some meme for the hell of it

[theseinfernalangels]

Heavenly - Bodhi Durran

Synopsis: Four times in which you almost kissed Bodhi, and one where he did it for you.

Includes: Fluff, angst, Reader has some issues, maybe a teeny bit suggestive at the end? Friends to lovers, almost a relationship but not quite, mutual pining. Takes place mostly during Fourth Wing and ends in Iron Flame.

A/N: AUGH this is my baby. I’m in love with this one guys. Also, pretend what I wrote about Tyrrish culture is 100% canon and not totally made up for the vibes.

You always liked the snow.

It was gorgeous; the little white specks of frost glided through the air with what looked like practiced ease, littering your flight leathers with faint, watery markings. You enjoyed the fact that it was silent, unlike the rain, which sometimes made entirely too much noise for your liking — it made it so much easier for you to sit on a distant windowsill and stare into space for what felt like hours at a time. Unnervingly, you also liked how it bit at you, the cold. You’d lay in the snow with your lightest leathers on just to feel the wet chill sink into your bones instead of dry, all-consuming heat that seemed to trail you wherever you went.

Most of all, you like the sight in front of you: Bodhi Durran, in his tall, tawny glory, looking particularly…pretty with little flurries settled in his dark curls. A small part of you aches to run your hands through them, to knock the speckles out — but, you decide, he looks like the pinnacle of perfection like this.

Said man peers down at you with a look of cool concern. “You’re going to freeze,” he accuses.

You smile serenely, your eyes tracking the falling flakes as they descend upon you both. 

“Maybe,” you reply. “It would be worth it, to stay out here.”

At once, Bodhi’s eyes soften. He knew your ordeal with heat and fire all too well. 

“Still,” he chides, slipping a toned arm around your waist and pulling you into him. “C’mere. I’d prefer it if you didn’t get hypothermia because you like to stand in negative temperatures without your flight jacket.”

You tense for a moment before slowly allowing yourself to melt into his warm embrace, bracing your face on his chest as you both watched how the snow fell in the late-January sky. No words were needed between the two of you when all you needed were gentle touches and the chilly air.

You feel his eyes on you, so you reluctantly peel your face away from his jacket and tilt your head up to face him. Predictably, he’s smiling — but not a full on grin like usual. No, he’s wearing a smile of pure fondness as his gaze meets yours. You can’t help but catch your eyes on his lips, though; Bodhi has always been handsome, even as a younger boy, but the atmosphere combined with his fuller features make him look downright ethereal.

“A penny for your thoughts?” he prompts you gently, nudging you in the ribs.

The touch makes you flinch a little before you straighten and raise your chin. “How much to keep them in?” you challenge.

He chuckles and raises his free hand innocently. “You got me there. Just wanted to know what’s got your eyes all hazy.”

You barely noticed it; your eyes, although you’d been observing the snow keenly, were less focused on the environment around you and more in tune with the shape of his mouth, the little scar on his lower lip, how his mouth moved when he smiled…

How his pretty lips would feel on yours.

You hum. “Nothing much. Just daydreaming again, I guess.”

Silence. Waiting.

“And,” you add, “the weather is making my eyes water.”

Bodhi lets out an exasperated but affectionate huff and moves away from you briefly to peel his flight jacket off and sling it around your shoulders.

“You know,” he drawls, “you’d think being a Wingleader would establish some sort of self-preservation in you.”

Instantly, you’re enveloped into pure heat, but not the kind that usually bothers you. No, this heat is warm and velvety, soothing in a way that is purely Bodhi.

“Nah,” you reply with the faintest trace of a satisfied grin. “Quite the opposite, actually. It makes you willing to risk everything for this sort of stuff.”

You keep it vague.

This sort of stuff.

The peace you feel as you watch snow fall like ashes.

The chance to have a quiet moment for once in your too-chaotic lives.

The moment of clarity you feel when you stare at Bodhi and pray to yourself, “Loial, I’ve had too much taken from me already. Please do not touch him, too.”

༘⋆༄.°⋆

The air around you is charged and slightly humid as you watch a pair of first-years, two boys, fling each other to the padded ground of the sparring gym. It’s rough, hard, and ruthless…Everything you’ve come to enjoy about training at Basgiath.

It’s usually easy to predict who will come out on top with these sorts of matches. One of the guys, Cael McCleary, had clearly been holding back out of pure nervousness when he stepped onto the mat. You sympathize with him — but you also know that sympathy would get him nowhere, especially against a man like Jamilian Sirko, who you’re pretty sure is half war cannon the way he towers over almost all of the cadets here like a bull in a china shop.

Surprisingly, though, McCleary holds his own against Sirko, using his anxious energy as a means of dodging and weaving faster than the taller boy is able to strike. It’s impressive, no doubt about it — but it’s also a test of endurance. Where Sirko is strong and built like a great wall of pure, dark muscle mass, he can’t use that to his advantage against McCleary, a lithe and reedy guy, for much longer before he eventually tires out. Neither of the two look like they’re ready to drop, though — not by a long shot.

You sigh. Looks like you’d be here for a while.

“Good, you two!” you call from your place on the side. “Hurry it up a little, would you? You’re the only thing preventing your squad mates from leaving.”

A quiet brush of footsteps behind you tells you that someone has come to stand by you for the time being — Bodhi, as told by his gleaming grin. 

“Look at you, being all commanding,” he greets you, drawing out the last word dramatically. “Gods, how long have they been going for?”

You break your gaze away from the fighting cadets to glance over at the clock on the wall. It’s 11:23.

“I think we’re going on fifteen minutes now,” you murmur. “McCleary is really trying to drag this out to get Sirko down. I can’t say I like the timing, but I do admire his strategy.” You pause. “What are you doing here?”

Bodhi nods, his gaze turning analytical. “Of course,” he adds, completely ignoring your question. “I think he needs to find a place to end it. A good kick to the back of the knees or even the throat would do Sirko in good.”

You’re about to repeat yourself and insist he answer your question when a flash of silver catches your eye — a small dagger being slid from the sideline towards the sparring cadets, its hilt extended to where Sirko would most easily be able to snatch it, if he had the balls.

You freeze. Bodhi nudges you gently with his elbow. “What did they agree to beforehand?”

McCleary, although his fingers twitched anxiously, raised his chin and nodded to his friend, who held three small knives between his fingers. “No weapons?” he asked, raising a hand in need of shaking.

Sirko raised an eyebrow before smiling easily, grasping McCleary’s hand with practiced ease. “No weapons,” he repeated, sealing the deal before they backed away from each other in waiting.

“Oi! Break it up, both of you,” you call over to the boys, who are panting and looking a little more than eager to finish it. You gesture to the little blade that both cadets have yet to notice pick up. “Were you not paying attention to their terms? No weapons for this round. I don’t want to see that shit again.” You quickly use your signet to bend the air around the blade and bring it to you for you to grab. 

You sweep it to your outstretched hand and inspect the knife. It’s indistinguishable, really, with no remarkable hilt or quality.

Little tendrils of wind spin the blade by its hilt before you sigh and clear your throat again. 

“That’s enough, you two,” you yell over to McCleary and Sirko. “I appreciate your persistence and endurance, but a match should be over before the twenty minute-mark. Good on both of you.”

A tide of complaints and cheers arise from the sideline, and you stalk over to the first-years with a little look of disapproval on your face.

You hold up the knife so they can all see it. “Who was it?” you ask with a scowl. “They agreed on no weapons, and if you think I’ll let attempts to cheat slide, then you’re sorely mistaken. Tell me who it was and I might even let you walk out of here with all your joints intact.”

The first-years all look jolted for a moment before one is pushed to the front — Opal Keenan. She’s pretty, with flame-red hair that must reach to the small of her back when it’s not in a entirely too-complicated braid. She looks embarrassed for a moment before she schools her face into a look of pure ignorance.

“Please,” she sneers. “Anyone would have been grateful if someone picked it up and used it. Preferably Jamilian — McCleary was bound to lose anyway.”

You immediately bristle, raising your chin and fixing an icy glare on the cadet. 

“Did I ask who you preferred to win?” you snap. “No, Keenan. If you wanted to see the outcome of the match, you should have considered the consequences of trying to aid a cadet in cheating. The crime you’ve just committed is easily punishable, you know. I’d hate to have to carry out the consequences myself.”

Keenan’s taunting smile widens. “A crime?” she mocks, earning a few glares and hisses from the cadets around her. “That’s rich coming from you, you traitorous bitch. I bet your father—“

Her words are cut off swiftly, and you know it’s because Bodhi has come to stand behind you, standing tall and angrily from a few steps back.

“I’m sorry,” he says sharply, pinning Keenan in place with a glare that looks too unnatural for his warm, brown eyes. “Did you not hear your Wingleader? Cheating on either side of a match is punishable by a dishonorable discharge at its lightest. You should be glad she hasn’t already gone to Emetterio to report this. In fact, I should go do that right now. You’re a shameful example of a cadet, Keenan.”

Keenan opens her mouth again, probably to jeer at you again, before she’s cut off again, this time by you.

“I don’t want to hear that shit out of your mouth again. That’s strike two for you. Test me a third time, and I’ll have no trouble letting Leadership know that you’re interfering with matches and being a downright bitchhead to your squadmates and Wingleader.”

For good measure, you allow your power to flow out of you just a little, little tendrils of air wrapping around Keenan’s throat. She startles and lets out a little choked whimper, losing all of her bravado in what feels like milliseconds. You could kill her like this, if you really wanted to — but you feel a warm hand splay on the small of your back protectively, so you lighten it up just a little. “Do I make myself clear, cadet?”

Keenan nods as quickly as she opened her mouth before you release her after a few seconds of drawing it out, just for your own benefit. She stumbles back with a gasp, her hand flying to her throat and staring at you in horror. You just meet her eyes head-on, steely and cold.

“You’re all dismissed,” you order in a low voice. “And keep this in the back of your minds. I don’t care if you think I’m a traitor or not, but if you think you can get away scot-free with cheating in a match for a reason as stupid as that, then you’re clearly not cut out for this quadrant.”

The first-years waste no time in clearing out of the sparring gym, either because of your order or because they don’t want to be the next one choked out by a Wingleader. Opal Keenan is out first, running like the cowardly little bitch she is, and everyone follows, shooting you looks of fear, surprise, and surprisingly enough, a few grins from the people who agreed that the ginger cadet needed some humbling. You sigh and scrub a hand over your face, suddenly exhausted.

The hand on the small of your back wraps around your waist, pulling you into a chest of taut muscle before Bodhi winds his other arm around you, essentially trapping you against him. His chin comes to rest on your shoulder. 

“You handled that really well,” he tells you in a soft voice. “Do you deal with that every day?”

You lean back into him a little. “Not really,” you reply, fixing your eyes out the window and staring into the late-morning sky. “Usually they know to keep their mouths shut around me. I guess someone just wanted to be bold today.”

His quiet snicker by your ear sends a rush of warmth down the skin of your neck. It dies, though, once he catches the edge of your expression.

“Hey,” he prompts. “You want me to tell Emetterio? I’m sure he’ll dish something deserving out for Keenan as soon as he hears.”

You mull over the thought for a few moments before shaking your head. “No. I’m not going to tattle on a first-year just for being a little too uppity. I can handle it.”

Bodhi’s thumb strokes the leather over your stomach idly. “You can,” he affirms. “And you did. You’re strong as hell, Levine.”

His voice lowers. “But I wouldn’t mind kicking her ass if you asked me to.”

You snort and gently jab him in the side with an elbow, only being met by a sputtered protest. “I appreciate the offer,” you assure him. “But I’m gonna let someone else do it in their own time.” You go quiet for a moment before you remember your conversation just a little bit earlier.

“Bodhi,” you grab his attention again, twisting out of his hold to stare at him. “What are you even doing here? This isn’t your squad, and it’s definitely not your wing.”

“So?” he huffs, backing up a little to give you some room. “I’m on break, and I wanted to see you.”

Oh, Amari bless his heart. Bodhi was probably the only man who would ever do such a thing for you. And the way he looks at you right now, like him hunting you down in the middle of your duties was the most obvious thing he could be doing right now, makes you almost brave enough to stand on your toes and press a grateful peck against his cheek.

You restrain yourself. 

“Fair enough,” you concede, and he grins sweetly. “But it’s —“ You turn and glance back at the clock. “11:45. Don’t you have to be at land-nav by 11:50?”

His face falls immediately. “Oh, fuck.”

༘⋆༄.°⋆

The only two things keeping you awake at a time like this is your dragon’s gentle reassurances in your ear, and the fact that you haven’t seen Bodhi in approximately 27 hours. You lay in a long-sleeved slip, glaring at the moon through your window.

“You don’t have to lie to me, Zephyr,” Spéir rumbles. For once, she is less proud and more…sisterly, in a way. “I know you are worrying about the Bright One.”

“…And if I am?” you ask, your mental voice coming out more passive-aggressive than you mean to. “Am I wrong for it?”

A low chuckle ripples through the bond. “Of course not,” Spéir replies. “You are mine, Zephyr, but before I chose you, he was within your grasp and kept in the inner workings of your heart. He is your human no more than you are mine. No need to jump to his defense.”

You sigh in frustration, tearing your eyes away from the glow of the moon before you stare at the door. If you had it your way, Bodhi would be sleeping right next to you, his curls spilling down his face messily as he dreamed. But he wasn’t next to you — and you had a sneaking suspicion as to why.

As if your thoughts had caused it, a faint rapping at your door draws your attention. You flick your wrist to summon a mage light, the glow a soft lavender, before you slip out of your bed and creep towards the door.

“Is it—“

“Yes. He came straight for you.”

You rip the door open, and sure enough, Bodhi leans against the threshold, his battered body looking like he’ll fall at any moment. 

He stares at you, slightly dazed, before he manages a breathy whisper. 

“A thaisce. I’m sorry, but—“

You cut him off by tugging him through the door and pushing a small breeze out to shut the door quietly. You push him over to your bed, urging him to sit on your soft sheets. His knees practically fold in on themselves, making your heart ache. You feel more awake and alert now than you have since he disappeared.

“Easy,” you murmur. “Hey, mhuirnín, easy. Don’t apologize. I take it you just had RSC, huh?”

His gaze meets yours, and for the first time in a long time, he looks exactly like he did when he was a child: Nervous, disoriented, and exhausted.

“Is that what that was?” he asks hoarsely, grabbing at your hands to run his thumbs up and down your wrists. “I thought they would just…I don’t know, have us take notes about it.” He inhales sharply. “But one moment, I’m heading here, and the next, I’m tied up and hazy and our signets aren’t working and Cuir won’t talk to me—“

You hush him, coming to stand in between his legs and running a hand through his tousled hair. “It was the water,” you explain gently. “They drug you to dull the bond so it’s as realistic as possible.”

You crouch a little, forcing him to meet your eyes while you inspect his body for any intensive damage. To your surprise, he looks relatively unharmed past extensive bruising and a split lip. You bring your little tendrils of wind to a warmer temperature and cushion him as you search him. “Anything need to be looked at?”

He shakes his head wearily. “No. They went kind of easy on me. They went after Iris, though. I guess that’s because she has more of a mouth than I do.”

Your eyes narrow, but you say nothing before you do another once-over, just for peace of mind. Bodhi averts his eyes and quietly says, almost sheepishly, “If you want me to go, I can.”

Immediately, you shake your head. “Hell no,” you mutter, nudging his head up with a little breeze. “I’m not letting you leave. I’ve been waiting for you, asshole.”

His face brightens a little, the usual gleam starting to reappear after what must have been hours. “You waited for me?”

“Of course I did.” You scowl a little, nudging his thigh with your own. “I’ll always wait for you, idiot.”

His entire body seems to relax for a few moments before you poke him. “I still have some of your clothes in here. You probably don’t want to shower, but at least change into something comfortable.”

He leans into you in an odd side-hug before rising to his feet. You know he knows his way around your room, so you turn around and close your eyes to let him change without the burden of your intense stare.

“Zephyr,” your dragon prods. “Cuir would like to tell the Bright One that he is here and is sorry that he could not be there.”

“Spéir says that Cuir is sorry he couldn’t be with you,” you tell him, your eyes still squeezed shut. Bodhi looses a rough laugh, and before you know it, the mattress is dipping and he’s tugging you to lay down, now changed into a simple pair of sleep pants and a black shirt. You allow him to pull you down before you grab him in turn and ease his head on to your shoulder, your hands automatically moving to his head to run your fingers through his hair. He shudders appreciatively and wraps a weak arm around your stomach.

The two of you just lay there in the pale lavender light, enjoying the silence of each other’s company. It was unlike Bodhi to be so quiet, but after the ordeal he just went through, you can’t imagine him being lively enough to talk about anything. You resist the urge to dip your head and press your lips to his forehead, although he probably needs the affection right about now.

After what feels like hours of nothing but soft breathing, Bodhi says your name in such a tone that your eyes instantly snap to his.

He hesitates, looking equal parts pleading and embarrassed. “Can you…talk to me? In the Old Language, I mean. I-I don’t care what it’s about.”

You barely suppress an affectionate coo before you nod, smoothing your hands over his back. “Of course,” you say in Tyrrish, your tone growing a tad bit higher-pitched in your native tongue. “I’m proud of you, you know? You look barely scathed, mo laochain.”

His breath catches a little, and you feel a pang of adoration hit you in the gut as he tucks his face into your neck.

“I don’t feel very strong right now,” he admits. “I feel like I could’ve done something to help. To divert attention from the others so they wouldn’t be as hurt.”

“Hey, no,” you say firmly, rubbing his shoulders with a surprising gentleness. “I’m glad you didn’t. I don’t care if that makes me sound selfish, but I’m glad they went easiest on you. Amari knows I’d lose my cool if they did anything else.”

Bodhi stifles a laugh, and then a small groan of pain. You extend a warm cloud to rest over him and ripple over his cuts and bruises.

“Easy,” you say again. “Do not move too much. We’ll go see the healers tomorrow and see what they can do for you — probably more than I can, at least.”

The younger boy’s head rises from the crook of your neck so he can stare at you, his exhaustion apparent in his half-lidded eyes.

“None of that,” he scolds you, as if he’s not the one laying in your arms right now. “You do more for me than any of them could attest to. That’s why I came here and not there with the others.”

“Besides,” he adds, “I missed you. I don’t know how I went years without talking to you, because I think I was going insane by the fifth or sixth hour they kept us.”

For a moment, all you see is him. Not your bedroom, not the glow of your mage light or the moon, and certainly not the silhouettes of roaming dragons out your window. The only two people here, who exist in real time and space, are the both of you. You lean your head to lay against his and ghost your lips right above his ear — the closest thing to kissing him that you’ll allow yourself.

“Well, you’re here now,” you assure him. “And we can talk as much as you need. You should probably sleep, though. I need my favorite person to be somewhat alive tomorrow so that I can keep myself sane.”

Something closer to an actual laugh, a Bodhi Laugh, finally leaves him, making a smile of your own grace your lips.

“Right, Wingleader,” he says in mock-submission. “You talk so I don’t go mad, and I’ll sleep so you don’t, either. Sound like a plan?” 

You flick him in the shoulder blade, but it’s not out of annoyance — more like, in your opinion, thankfulness, because you know what you need at a time like this, alone and in need of someone to lean on.

“Deal, mhuirnín.”

༘⋆༄.°⋆

The sun blazes in your eyes, nearly blinding you in the late July heat. Your head rests on Bodhi’s thigh, his fingers sifting through your hair softly as the two of you watch the sun set on Navarre.

Bodhi looks down at you and frowns, moving his hand from your head to splay it directly in your line of vision. Your eyes flit to his, and he shrugs. “It would really suck if you went blind on your birthday.”

You make a small noise of understanding and smile, curling into him a little more. “Happy birthday to me; I get an honorable discharge.”

Bodhi grins and resumes his motions in your hair, taking care to try and keep the sun out of your face. “I think you mean dishonorable,” he corrects you, “since you going blind is completely preventable if you’d just keep your eyes away from the sun.”

You scowl and shoot a lick of ice cold air down his tunic, causing him to emit a soft shriek of surprise. He glares down at you and flicks your forehead.

“Not funny,” he pouts. “Dammit, Levine, that was cold.”

You try and keep your face still, but the stoicism is short-lived as a smile of pure delight takes its hold on you.

“My bad,” you bluff, staring at him with absolutely no shame whatsoever. “I was aiming for your head.”

Bodhi’s eyes narrow, and you know instantly that he’s about to try to pin you into the grass. You roll out of the way with a yelp, but he’s always been just a tad bit faster than you, so he’s upon you in an instant, wrestling you to the ground while all you can do is hold him off of you. After a few moments of struggle, his hands clamp down on your shoulders, and you’re flat on your back before you know it. The position you’re in is unfamiliar; one hand cradles the back of your head so that it doesn’t slam into the ground, while the other holds him up over you. He’s close — closer than what you’re used to, his nose just an inch or two above yours. His eyes fall to your lips, and he swallows before murmuring, “Got you.”

Your cheeks heat up at the proximity, and you involuntarily sent another brush of wind down his back — this time, more gentle, something of a more affectionate nature that you rarely show. You force yourself to blink and ignore the fact that he’s quite literally eyeing you like he wants nothing more than to slam his mouth on to yours. 

You stick your tongue out at him. “You had an advantage. I was unprepared.”

He breaks from his staring and snorts, wiggling his eyebrows at you. “Right,” he says dryly. “An advantage. You can call it that, sure.”

You scowl but don’t say anything. It feels a little awkward, seeing as he won’t move from his position above you. You don’t dislike it — not by a long shot — but what’s a girl to do when she’s pinned under her best friend (who she definitely doesn’t want to kiss. Not at all.)?

Bodhi blinks as if coming out of a trance before he clears his throat awkwardly and lets you up, leaning back to sit down. You roll up into a sitting position and lean into him. He feels a little stiffer — probably from prior awkwardness, akin to that of the same nature from when you both were tweens and he was still visibly nervous around you. He’s quiet for a second before he starts.

“So,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “I know you said you didn’t want anything for your birthday...”

You go still. “You didn’t.”

He waves his hand as if to dismiss your protest. “It’s not big,” he insists, reaching into his pocket. “I know you don’t like gifts very much, and you get overwhelmed by big gestures. I just wanted to do something, since this is your twenty-third birthday.”

In Tyrrish culture, 23 was the age where you were officially considered a woman — not in the physical sense, but in the spiritual sense. It was the aois na laochra, the age of a warrior. You’d almost forgotten about it, since you’d barely taken note of your birthday since your sixteenth — the last birthday you’d been able to have with your entire family.

Your eyes soften, and you swallow the lump in your throat that threatens to make it crack before you respond. “You didn’t have to do that.”

Bodhi shoots you an easy smile. “I know,” he replies casually. “But I wanted to. I wanted to keep the tradition alive, even if you’re the only one it happens for.”

He pulls out what was hidden in his pocket — a small wooden box — and drops it into your palm. “Open it.”

Your thumb brushes against the wood — cherry, sanded and smooth — and on the initials that are carved into the top with a delicateness that’s more than impressive. You have a feeling you know who did this part, and Bodhi confirms it. “He didn’t ask for anything in return.”

You smile before taking a deep breath in and slowly opening the box, your hands a little shaky from the nerves that plague you. Your breath hitches, and you blink down at what lays inside the box: A small ring of onyx with a glittering red gem in the middle. Your fingers hesitantly touch it, and Bodhi is suddenly closer to you, rushing to explain.

“I know you don’t really like big things, so I settled for this. The band is onyx, and the gem is garnet, your birthstone.”

He pauses. “Turn it over?”

You raise an eyebrow but do it anyway, hooking your index finger into the ring and bringing it out so you can turn it to the other side.

You choke out a gasp when you see what he’s nudging you towards, tears previously left unshed brimming in your waterline.

A knight. Two twin wildcats. It’s your family’s coat of arms — the one you haven’t seen in close to ten years. 

You swallow again, your voice breaking. “Bodhi—“

“Hey,” he says gently, pulling you into his lap with practiced ease. “It’s okay, I’ve got you. I just thought it’d be nice, so you could have a piece of them on you whenever you wanted.”

You couldn’t even begin to imagine where he found the time to find something like this, to put the sheer effort in accomplishing something like this.

For once, you don’t care. You just bury your head in his shoulder and allow yourself to sob quietly, shivering when his hands come up to cradle you to his chest.

“Thank you,” you whisper to him in Tyrrish. “Thank you.”

His heart twists, and he clutches you ever closer to him. “Anything for you.”

༘⋆༄.°⋆

Bodhi’s heart pounds in his ears as he runs through the halls of Riorson House, blood spilling into his mouth from just how hard he’d bitten his lip just a few minutes beforehand. He doesn’t care. He doesn’t have time — not when he’s got a very important matter to attend to.

Xaden had scared the shit out of him when he’d suddenly appeared from what felt like out of nowhere, his dark eyes huge and sparkling. 

“Bodhi,” he’d breathed. “She’s here. Go to her.” It didn’t take a genius to know just who he was talking about, and Bodhi had taken off in a flash, abandoning whatever the hell he’d been doing for Jesinia in her little bookish habitat. His legs couldn’t push him faster, and he suddenly wished he could wield distance like Garrick, so he could get outside much faster than the rate he had going for him.

“Cuir,” he gasps, tugging on the string of his bond. “Is it true? Is she here?”

The dragon lets out an affirming rumble. “Yes, Gréine; Spéir and the girl are injured, but they have returned from Morraine alive.”

If it’s at all possible, Bodhi forces his legs to work harder, pump faster, to book it outside with hardly a glance behind him. He finally bursts through the front entrance and skids on the stone path, whipping his head around to look for you — his girl, his love, his light. He spots Spéir first, her massive black form standing tall next to two other dragons. One of her wings is bloody, and some of her scales have been ripped clean off, but she looks relatively fine other than that.

Then, he spots you and books it toward you, not giving damns nor shits about the three dragons that aren’t his that surround you. You’ve barely looked up once he makes it to you, throwing himself into you and pulling you protectively into his chest.

Nine months. It’s been nine months since you’ve been stationed in Morraine. Nine months of not seeing or speaking to you. He doesn’t know how he could stand it. 

Your arms crush him into a hug, and your knees almost buckle from the sheer force of how you hold each other.

He holds you like it’s the last time he ever will, like every promise he’s ever made and will ever make is sealed into your skin with every fleeting second that he presses into your form. No one could take you from him if they tried — not a general’s orders, not even Malek, if he could help it.

You pull away, and he finally gets a good look at you. You’re gorgeous, as always, even with scars lining your jaw and blood covering your face. He doesn’t think he’s seen a more wonderful sight in his life. He presses his forehead to yours, searching your eyes for…Well, just about anything. He’ll take everything and anything he can get from you.

“Bodhi,” you whisper, his name falling from your lips reverently. “Gods, I don’t—“

Your eyes widen as he silences you. Not with words, though; your lips are sealed the moment he grabs your jaw and slams his mouth on to yours, effectively shutting you up. You wouldn’t have it any other way.

His lips are chapped and bloody, courtesy of how hard he bit them earlier, but the metallic tang is the last thing on your mind as he kisses you fiercely and desperately, like you’re his oasis in a desert of nothingness. His light in a vast ocean of shadow. Your lungs burn from the lack of breath, but you don’t have it in you to care, not when he’s kissing you like this.

He finally breaks away after what feels like forever and nothing and presses his forehead back to yours, wiping some of the blood on your face with a calloused finger.

“A thaisce,” he whispers in the Old Language, long-suppressed tears running down his cheeks at the mere sight of your face. “Mo leannan. Mo Shíorghrá. I am never letting you leave my side ever again. Never again. I promise.”

Tyrrendor is where Bodhi grew up, and Basgiath is where he became a man, but in your arms, with your lips locked with his? Bodhi has never felt more at home.

[coelarcamth]

[emthimofnight]

Introducing the adopted son of Jet the Hawk, Rocket the Rooster! 😁

Some info:

Was found as an orphan by Jet when he was very young. He was taken under Jet's wing after being caught trying to steal from the Babylon Rogues. Despite initially being seen as an apprenticeship of sorts, Jet and Rocket eventually grew to see each other as father and son.

He is rivals with Stellar the Hedgehog and is love rivals with Camellia the Cat. Stellar thinks he is super cool, and she has a crush on him. Camellia hates him with a fiery passion. 😂

When he came out, he chose the name "Rocket" to cement his place among the Babylon Rogues.

He was raised to view Sonic (and by extension, Stellar) as rivals/competition. Jet is very happy to get under Sonic's skin by having his son outdo (and potentially romance???) his daughter.

Flirts with Stellar when they compete to try and get the upper hand by distracting her. She is too gullible to recognize he is just doing it to win.

Affectionately called "Rocky" by friends and family.

Both Sonic and Shadow don't like him being around Stellar.

Less of a showboat than Jet, but still has an ego.

Doesn't actually catch feelings for Stellar until she realizes what a dick he is and wrecks his shit. It is the second she kicks him so hard he sees stars that he understands why she is named "Stellar". By that point, of course, Stellar has written him off (much to Camellia's delight).

[strange0-0storm]

Chicken Nugget is her name trust

DAMMIT MANGO WHY SHE LOOK LIKE YOU GRAAAHHH

@its-a-me-mango LMFAOOOOOK

Scary

[togeppy]

behind (un)locked doors ;

bodhi durran x tavis!reader

garrick discovers that his younger sister has been in a secret relationship with bodhi and takes his duties as a protective older brother very seriously. ✧ : slight nsfw near the beginning but I don't write smut as of rn so it's super surface level and like 3 sentences lmao

The first rule of being in a secret relationship should probably be to make sure you always lock the door behind you. Usually, this would be your priority - double checking that no one was around to watch you slip into a secret alcove, only passing stolen kisses in the quiet of an empty classroom, and locking the damned door. Only, today Bodhi looked so ridiculously beautiful as he trained his squad that your priority was elsewhere; you desperately needed to get your lips on him, and he needed to get his hands on you - beelining your way to the solitude of his room was the only thing on either of your minds.

The only issue that both of you neglected to consider was that for marked ones, an unlocked door guaranteed uninvited visitors.

An unlocked door wouldn't have been a problem if your older brother, Garrick, hadn't been looking for you to let you know that he had some spare time to give you extra training. It wouldn't have caused any issues if he hadn't run into Emery in the hallway, who told your brother that he saw you and Bodhi head into the second year's room only moments before. It wouldn't have resulted in the situation you're currently in if the two of you hadn't had such an incredibly platonic relationship over the years, that it didn't even cross the older Tavis' mind to knock, because there was no way the two of you were up to anything that he couldn't just barge into.

The problem was that all of the above did happen, and you and your boyfriend now have to pay for the consequences of your own actions.

Within moments of returning to Bodhi's room, his shirt was discarded onto the floor and you found yourself in his lap as the two of you got comfortable atop his bed. His back leans against his headboard and your mouths are locked together in a passionate kiss, as if starved for one another. Your fingers are lost in his hair, gripping his soft curls as if it will keep you from floating away from pure bliss. His hands are gripping at your ass, fingers kneading at the soft skin, indicative of pure desire.

If humanly possible, you're drawing yourself even further into his embrace when the sound of the door clicking open surprises both you and your boyfriend, instantly causing you to pull apart. You roll off of him to lie on the vacant side of the bed and bury your face in the pillow as if hiding your face will make you unrecognizable to the unwanted guest, and Bodhi makes a show of being very interested in the ceiling.

"Hey, I've got like an hour free-" the all-too-familiar voice sounds as it enters the room, but quickly goes silent. You don't even have to look back at the man standing in the doorway to know what expression he wears: jaw ticking in annoyance after having snapped shut, mouth set in an unamused line, and broad arms crossed over his chest to make himself look larger and more intimidating than he already does.

You peel your face away from the pillow hesitantly to get a look at your brother, and sure enough, you've got it down to a tee. His eyes bore into you, fury apparent on his face as he takes in the sight before him.

"Explain. Now," he growls out, finally properly entering the room and shutting the door behind him. And locking it. As you very clearly should have done.

Bodhi squeezes his eyes shut for a few seconds before reopening them and finally looking at the angry man before him, dread apparent on his face. "We were just… studying."

Garrick's expression is unwavering as his eyes move from Bodhi's swollen lips down to his bare chest, and to both of your packs laying next to his own feet, very clearly shut and untouched with all of your books inside. "Try again."

You and Bodhi glance at each other, a moment of terrified eye contact before you grimace, hoping that he won't take his anger out too severely on either of you. "So… my dear big brother who I love very much…"

The man walks closer to the edge of the bed and if even possible, levers a more terrifying gaze on both of you. "Cut the crap. Is this a hookup or is this an ongoing thing that the two of you have neglected to mention to me?"

Bodhi scratches the back of his head, clearly puzzled as to which answer will result in a lesser punishment for both of you. On one hand, claiming it's a hookup would mean you could pretend nothing has happened before today, but it would end in Garrick beating the shit out of Bodhi for trying to sleep with his little sister. On the other hand, telling him the truth might mean your brother would hopefully see that you two are serious about each other, but would cause him to get angry about not being kept in the loop… and probably still end with Garrick beating the shit out of Bodhi.

You loose a sigh and wince, knowing you'll have to face the man's wrath regardless of your response. "The second one."

Garrick stands still for a moment, his expression unreadable as his gaze darts between the two of you. For a moment there's a tense silence as both you and your boyfriend wait to see his reaction.

"Does anyone else know? Does Xaden?"

You shake your head. "No."

"And how long has this," he gestures between the two of you, and you feel yourself turn a deep shade of red, "been going on?"

"Three months." Bodhi answers, speaking with extreme caution as if any word will cause your brother to pounce on him at any given second. Both of you are walking on eggshells, waiting for the mass destruction you know is coming.

The older boy tenses, raising an eyebrow at you. "Three whole fucking months? And when exactly were you planning on mentioning this to me?"

You scratch your head, thinking of the best answer to give him. You and Bodhi had discussed when would be the best time to mention your relationship to Garrick and Xaden, but you were both scared that it would change everything. With Bodhi being one of Garrick's best friends, and the four of you essentially being as close as family growing up, you were worried that if anything went south it would tear your group apart. So, you decided to keep it a secret until you were sure that you were committed to making the relationship work.

"Soon, we swear," Bodhi starts, unsure of how to best relay your plans to your brother, given that they weren't exactly concrete, "We just… wanted to be sure that this was going to work before making it public."

"And so even after three whole months, you still weren't sure enough to tell your own brother?" Garrick retorts, voice so levelled it sends a shiver down your spine, "Don't you think that might have been indication enough?"

Before you can stop them, the words are exiting your lips faster than you can force them back in. "Well, most people usually wait until after three months to announce pregnancies. I'd say three months is pretty standard to announce big relationship news."

The regret instantly floods your whole system as soon as you finish your sentence, and Garrick responds immediately, moving to your side of the bed, ready to swipe at you for your snark. You jump over Bodhi with a yelp, and he follows you, the two of you now standing with the bed in between you and the third-year. Your boyfriend stands slightly in front of you, ready to protect you from any hits Garrick might toss your way; while you know your brother won't hurt you too bad, you've definitely roughhoused in the past and know that despite his overprotectiveness, he isn't afraid of leaving you with a couple of bruises after a fight.

"Forget she said that," Bodhi tries to recover on your behalf, shooting you a mildly annoyed look from over his shoulder, "But we are sure about the two of us. Just… you wouldn't have wanted us to casually tell you over breakfast would you? We were just waiting for the right moment."

Garrick cracks his knuckles as he stares down the man in front of him. "You think that's going to change my opinion of this all? You're one of my best friends and I trusted you to keep an eye out for my little sister. She's the only damned person I care about keeping safe in this hellhole, and despite all the trust I had in you, you went and started sleeping with her behind my back?" Your brother points an accusatory finger at Bodhi, before moving it in your direction, "And you… do you want to even talk about how shitty it is to find out like this that my only family left has been keeping a secret this major from me?"

Both you and Bodhi are stunned to silence, and you feel your heart breaking in your chest despite the fear you felt only minutes ago. You knew that it was wrong of you both to keep this from him for so long, but you were so consumed by your own fear of ruining the group dynamics and the excitement of being in a secret relationship that you barely considered how finding out that you've been keeping this a secret would impact your brother.

"Gare, I'm so sorry," you whisper, your eyes sincerely apologetic as you lock eyes with your brother whose rage-filled expression now holds traces of betrayal.

"I'm sorry for keeping this a secret, but I'm not sorry that any of this happened," Bodhi speaks up boldly, causing Garrick to snap his gaze over to the boy and narrow his eyes, confused yet still angry, "I have been keeping an eye out for your sister, and us being in a relationship hasn't changed that. If anything, it's just made me even more protective over her. If you think I'm going to let anyone hurt her when I'm around, you're out of your damn mind."

The tension between them reminds you that despite the fact that you're Garrick's sibling, Bodhi is one of his best friends - he has a long-standing relationship with your brother that makes him unafraid to challenge him when others would cower in fear. Garrick moves around the bed obviously to give Bodhi a piece of his mind, but you step between the two men, placing a firm hand on Garrick's chest to stop him from advancing.

"Hear him out for a second," you beg, your voice barely above a whisper, "Please."

The third-year levels a look on you for a second, before crossing his arms once again over his chest, eyes boring into his friend, letting him know that he's allowing him to continue speaking, though he's not happy about it.

"I love your sister, and I am so damn serious about this relationship. I don't give a flying fuck if you approve of us or not, but I will never betray the trust that you put in me to keep her safe. If it's the last thing I do, I will make sure that anyone that threatens her safety will pay."

You can't hide the shocked look on your face - you and Bodhi had only been dating for three months, so you had never said that you loved each other, but you know without a doubt that you feel the same way about him despite the words going unspoken until now.

Garrick stares at the boy for a moment, deep in thought. It's as if you can physically see the gears turning in his head as he decides how to proceed. He finally lets out a sigh, and then his gaze turns to you.

"Do you love him?"

Without hesitation, you drop your arm from where you were holding your brother back, and nod. "Yes. I do."

"And he… treats you well?" the older boy asks, gaze skeptically jumping to his friend, seeing as he's the person that knows the most about the kinds of antics your boyfriend gets up to.

"Extremely well." You nod once again, a smile gracing your lips as you look back at Bodhi for a second. "Besides, wouldn't you rather me date your best friend than another guy in the quadrant? Imagine how much different this situation would be if you had walked in on me with Aetos instead."

Garrick and Bodhi both look appalled for a moment, causing you to laugh slightly, easing some of the tension in the room. A slight smile lights up Garrick's lips, before they fall back into a straight line.

"Durran, if you ever break her heart I will break your jaw, get Nolon to mend it, and then break it again before you can recover. Got it?" he threatens, icy gaze trained back on Bodhi.

The boy nods, a smile now on his face, relief taking over both of you as the situation you had dreaded for so long has finally been dealt with. "Got it, Tavis."

Garrick stands for a moment again, surveying both of you for a minute before slowly nodding and heading for the door. He unlocks it and moves to step through the doorframe, before looking back at you for a moment again. "Just to be clear, I never want to see PDA from either of you. Keep it behind locked doors from now on."

He walks out of the room, shutting the door behind him. You and Bodhi both breathe a sigh of relief, both of you mentally exhausted from the altercation. With an exhale, you flop down on the bed, your body going limp now that the air in the room no longer feels so heavy. Your boyfriend softly smiles at the sight, before a deeper cheeky smile lights up his face. He moves across the room to where your brother stood only seconds before, and presses the lock with a light 'click.'

Your head snaps up to see him approaching you, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes as he leans over you.

"Now that that's out of the way, how about picking up where we left off?"

bonus:

At dinner the next day, you sit chatting with Imogen and Liam, advising the first-year boy on how to stay as far away from burnout as possible when dealing with Professor Carr's training. Liam lets out an exhausted sigh as he defeatedly takes a bite of the bread on his plate, and you and Imogen chuckle, knowing what he's had to endure.

Your eyes flicker up as a flurry of movement approaches your table, and your smile falls when you see your boyfriend limp over to you as he sits down, his lip busted open and caked with blood.

"What the hell happened to you?" Imogen questions, and Bodhi doesn't respond, eyes only moving to the two larger forms that come and join your group. Garrick and Xaden have matching mischievous smiles on both of their faces.

Your brother takes a bite of an apple as he sits down, his expression full of pure joy despite the bruises forming along his own jaw as he gives you a content smile. "Bodhi just needed a little ass kicking today. No biggie."

You roll your eyes, shooting the third-year an annoyed look, to which he only beams in response. "Was that really necessary?"

"Not really," he laughs, taking another bite of his food and leaning back in his seat, "But you bet I enjoyed it."

[druidshollow]

some stuff mostly lizards

[sasukeuchiha-24]

Kakashi Hatake

[scorpioriesling]

Hate Loving you

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Pairing(s): Xaden x reader

Warning(s): smut, mdni, 18+, nsfw, light angst, fluff

Summary: Your usual routine with your sworn enemy becomes a little more complicated as time passes... especially when an arranged marriage is on the table.

SR’s Note: Um... enemies to lovers? We love it? @sheblogs had a great idea for a part 2 to this story, so here it is! I'd reccomend reading part 1 first, so you're all caught up. Hugs and kisses! xo

Tags: @mellowmusings @rcarbo1 @lilah-asteria @bookofriverr @kitsunetori @velarisdusk @nctsawrus @lreadsstuff @paintedbyshadows @freakishfandomfiend @littleemissperfecttt @loveofmychips @bodhidurrans (inbox me or comment if you'd like to be added!)

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Love Hating You

Basgiath was colder than you'd imagined; so cold infact, your warm breaths could be seen before you, small wisps of steam against the bitter winter air.

You followed closely behind the king, taking two steps to keep up with his one. The group was silent, walking in uniform formation -- so silent that you were sure the others would hear the racing of your heart, if you were not careful.

"Halt!" King Tecarus raised a hand. Everyone immediately stopped, waiting for the next direction. The King turned, signaling for the few soldiers to enter first.

"I want the trained to enter with me," he announced, then motioned to the other half of the group. "The rest of my counsel will meet with the principal, as well as a few trusted advisors to discuss our trade agreement."

Everyone nods and begins on their way. You look to the King, quickly approaching him before he can turn to walk away.

"And for me, Sir?" You asked. He turned sharply, his familiar frown greeting you in answer.

"You're headed down to the artillery room," he says matter-of-factly. "Isn't that why you demanded to come?"

You nodded, trying your best to convince him and yourself of your role here.

"Absolutely sir," you said, nodding in salute. He relaxed a little, giving you a pat on the shoulder.

"There's a reason I allowed you to come, and not Catriona." He said softly. Your throat bobbed, registering the implication. You'll get the job done, he seemed to say. My neice wouldn't.

With that, you assured him you'd see to it that all of the weapons were delivered, and went on your way.

✧･ﾟ: *

The artillery room was packed when you got there. Men scrambled from box to box, unloading empty wooden crates and piling machienery onto the backs of Cordyn's armored trucks. You looked from box to box, ensuring all weapons were delivered in full. Once verified, the trucks departed, making their way back to Krovla.

Your brow furrowed as you approached the last truck. You seached the boxes, realizing a few weapons were missing. Groaning, you turned to the attendant nearest you -- a dark haired male with tanned skin. You nearly did a double-take; the striking resemblance between him and Xaden was...

"Hey!" You called, approaching him quickly. He turned to look up at you, pausing his current unboxing task and placing his hands on his hips. His cheeks were flushed red, likely from the bitter cold. He sniffled before answering you.

"Can I help you?" He said. You gestured to the last remaining truck, brows raising in question.

"Uh, yeah," you said matter-of-factly. "The last truck. We're supposed to have three boxes of long blades -- there's only one in there."

He looked plainly at you, his eyes cataloging every one of your features. Your brows narrowed, and you opened your mouth to demand an explaination but he beat you to it.

"I was told that truck was to recieve only one box," he explained calmly. You laughed humorlessly, folding your arms across your chest.

"Yeah, that makes sense -- we can supply an entire army with just one box," you said. The male shrugged, shaking his head.

"I just do what I'm told."

"Yeah?" You asked, steppikng closer. "And, who exactly is telling you, huh? Becaused my orders come directly from the King, and he specifically said-"

"Y/N," he said, his eyes widening. "You're Y/N... aren't you."

You paused your rampage, your brows knitting.

"Yeah, and?"

The male laughed, dropping his head as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. When he looked up at you again, there was pure delight in his eyes.

"I've been told a whole lot about you," he said slowly, grinning like a child on Christmas. "You're the girl he's so crazy about." You started to get angry, wondering who the Hell was walking around this place talking about you of all people.

"Oh really? And, may I ask what exactly you've heard?"

He shrugged. "Good and bad. Mostly good, I guess, though my cousin's judgement is sometimes questionable-"

In that moment you lunged for him, grabbing him by the shirt collar and bringing his face inches before yours. His eyes flew wide in surprise.

"Ow! Hey-"

"Who. Is. This, Cousin?" You asked lowly. The brunette simply gulped, and you fisted his shirt tighter. "WHO?"

"Okay! Okay," he relented, holding his hands up in surrender. "His name is Xaden -- you know him? Xaden Riorson?"

Your blood ran cold, and in that instant you dropped the kid. No wonder they looked so much alike -- they were related.

You should've known. Should've known you'd run into something like this.

Behind you, the truck's engine revved, preparing for departure. Surely, the King would reem you for not getting all the supplies negotiated for -- but now, you knew who was responsible for it.

You stormed out of the area, pushing past anyone who got in your way. Most of the males in the room gave you odd looks as you thundered past -- you didn't care. There was only one objective, one male on your mind.

And Gods help him if he didn't know you had arrived. Soon, youd ensure he would.

✧･ﾟ: *

You'd stormed through the doors of the main building, ignoring the students walking from one class to the next. If Xaden was here, you'd be sure to find him -- it was only a matter of time.

Walking the halls, you passed door after door, inspecting the nameplates as you went; Duvera, Kaori, Emmetario. Scoffing, you continued on, as surely he wouldn't be in a professor's office as a student himself.

It took damn near a half an hour until the halls had cleared, and the silence stretched. You were grateful for it, as you could make out which rooms were in use and which ones weren't. It was warmer inside the building, that you were also grateful for -- that was, until you approached an unmarked door. The voices inside talked in heated discussion, and you slowed your steps.

Approaching slowly, you inched toward the cracked open doorway, recognizing a few of the voices inside.

"This would be a fruitful allegiance, both for Cordyn and Navarre." That one was definately King Tecarus'.

"Fruitful, yes -- but would it even make sense?" This one, you'd also heard before. It sounded an awful lot like one of the Tyrrish court members that visited alongside Xaden when he came to Cordyn.

You leaned in, straining your hearing as the argument ensued.

"Who cares about sense," a woman's voice sounded. "Think of what's best for the school!"

"I'm not being married off despite my own wishes for a damn school, General."

That one, was unmistakenly Xaden's. Your brows narrowed as you took in what he was saying, realizing your artillery dispute may have to wait.

"But just think of the opportunity it'd bring you -- it'd bring to Tyrrendor too!" The King exclaimed. A few others commented as well, their reactions all mixed.

"You should be grateful the King is willing to strike an alliance with you," the General chastized. "You were born a rebel, after all. This at least would do youe father some justice."

There was a scuffle, and you jumped as Xaden's shouting echoed through the hallway.

"DON'T YOU SAY A WORD ABOUT MY FATHER!" He exclaimed. You cupped a hand over your mouth, realizing the general he was speaking to was in fact General Sorrengail. If you were remembering the words in your history book correctly -- she didn't take kindly to members of the rebellion.

"Xaden! Please!" Another male pleaded. "Let's keep this civil."

You heard his sigh, and dared to peek around the corner. You couldn't see much through the small crack, but you did see movement in the room.

"The best way of doing that is marrying my niece," King Tecarus interjected. "She's a wonderful girl, really. She'll make a great ruler. All you'd have to do is-"

"I'm not doing that," Xaden replied, his tone lethal. "I won't be marrying anyone, unless it's for the sake of love."

Your blood ran cold. Marriage? To Catriona?

All the thoughts inside your head began to swim. Was the King serious? They weren't even dating -- sure, your friend had hinted at her interest in the Tyrrish male, but they didn't even know one another! How did the King expect marriage from him? And for what, the sake of uniting the two provinces?

You realized you were breathing harder, heavier. This couldn't be happening. Xaden could not be engaged to Cat. After all that had happened between the two of you...

The door flew open in an instant, and you jumped back so fast you stumbled and fell on your ass. Lo and behold, Xaden burst through the door, shadows leaping and dancing as he strode out. He noticed you instantly, watching as he scrambled to your feet. The rage in his eyes flared as he registered your face, instantly gripping your arm and yanking you to your feet.

"What. The fuck. Are you doing here." He said, more as a demand than a question. You glared at him, attempting and failing to wrench your arm free.

"Actually, I came here to berate you for giving your cousin such a rediculous order reguarding our weapons supply -- but now, I suppose I'm here to merely congradulate you." Your tone was icy, amused even -- but Xaden bought none of it.

The golden flecks in those eyes intensified as he stared down at you, both confused and still angry.

"What the Hell are you talking about?"

Behind him, an unknown male peeked through the doorway, cupping his hands around his mouth as he called out.

"Xaden, please come back. We have more to discuss!"

Xaden didn't even glance at him as he gripped your arm tighter, tugging you along with him as he strode down the hallway and opened the doors to the rear stairwell.

"Bad idea coming here," he growled, yanking you along with him as he took two steps at a time. You tripped, working to keep up but also trying to deny everything you'd just heard.

"Really, bad, fucking, idea."

✧･ﾟ: *

"Tell me again why the fuck you're here," Xaden demanded, pushing you through the doorway and slamming it behind him.

You scoffed. "What, is it so hard for you to believe the King brought me to ensure weapons delivery?" Xaden loosed a harsh breath through his nose, striding across the room in the direction of his desk. "You think that, what, because I'm a girl, I can't handle it?"

Xaden barked out a laugh, pressing his palms into the wooden top of his workspace.

"I don't doubt it for a minute, actually -- you're really good at arguing," he said, though it came off more as a backhanded compliment.

"So why only give us one box of-"

"That's not why you're really here," he insisted, cutting you off as he stood straight again. "You came here for something else, and I want to know what it is."

You huffed, looking anywhere but him. FInally able to take in your surroundings, you realized you were in a dorm room. His, for that matter. The black silken sheet bed, the reports in a neat pile on his bedside table... this was surely his room.

Turning to him again, you were forced to consider what you'd known all along. You couldn't believe how easy it was for him to figure out, how he could see right through you -- but with him, it seemed he would be able to read you like a book on any given day.

"I ... I'm not sure what I thought would happen. Me coming here, I mean." You admitted quietly. He took a step toward you, his dark presence intimidating had you not known him so well. You stared up at him for a moment, before facing the sad truth that was now becoming your reality.

"It doesn't really matter though why I came -- it's clear that in nine months, you'll be married. To my best friend."

The silence that followed was capapble of swallowing you whole. Xaden didn't move, he just stood there, brooding as you stared at the floor. Neither of you knew what to say, how to put the words you wanted into sentences to be said out loud.

He broke it finally, his voice quiet when he spoke.

"I'm not marrying Catriona." He said. You hated the way the tears came, so fast and threatening you started blinking rapidly to keep them at bay. Your breath caught in your throat when your hand was taken in his, your gaze following as he lifted it and placed it on his chest. Beneath your fingertips, you felt his heart, beating so fast it would win a race had it been in one.

"It sounds like the most logical option to me," you countered, still trying to make sense of it yourself. "She's in line for the throne, Xaden. She's royal by blood and-"

"And I said. I'm not. Marrying. Her." He said, voice clipped. You stared up into his eyes, trying to read the answers hidden in them.

"But why?" You whispered, your voice breaking. He tilted his chin down then, inching his face toward yours. You swallowed hard, trying to save yourself from the impending heartbreak you were sure was to come.

"I'm not in love with her," he whispered, his lips a featherlight touch against yours. Your skin ignited in every place the two of you touched, set ablaze by the flame burning between the two of you. Every night you'd gone to bed in denial, every heartache you swore wasn't tied to his absence... you couldn't deny it any longer. For every insult, every eye-roll, every harsh word you threw at him -- you wanted him. Needed his presence, craved his attention. And for all that mattered, you knew a marriage between him and your best friend would absolutely shatter you.

You leaned in right then, pressing your lips to his. The touch was light and warm -- not as desperate and hungry as the last time. Reguardless, this was only the second time you'd kissed; and you'd be damned not to make it last.

Parting your lips, you silently asked for more -- more of him, more of this. These were the moments you could never rid yourself of, the moments you hated to love sharing with him. He obliged, his lips parting as he kissed you back. His hands found your waist, sliding around your hips and settling on your lower back. You reached both hands up, tangling your fingers in the onyx strands near the base of his neck as you lost yourself in him. In his touch, in his taste, his smoke and shadow scent -- you craved it all.

"This, is a, bad idea" you said between kisses. He tugged you closer in response, clutching you to him as though he'd crumble without you. He breathed deeply before answering, only pulling back an inch before kissing you again.

"You're full of bad ideas," he whispered, and you genuinely smiled. Your heart leaped as he cupped both hands under your ass, lifing you with ease. You giggled, for once not scolding yourself for the sound, and sighed as he laid you gently on his bed. You stared up at him, his eyes round with emotion.

"I don't think I've ever appreciated how beautiful you are," he said softly. The tears that had sat on your waterline threatened to spill over, ecpecially as he continued to admire you from above. "You're the most exquisite thing I think I've ever seen."

A single tear slipped free, and he was quick to catch it. You sniffled as you looked up at him, a small, sad smile on his face.

"Xaden Riorson... don't tell me you're going soft now," you teased, though emotion coated every word you spoke. A small smile tilted his lips as his fingers worked, undoing your pants and tugging them down. He unlaced your boots, then pulled off your socks... underwear next. You helped by removing your sweater and bra, and when he was finally undressed before you -- you realized you'd never felt so bare in front of him.

His gaze roamed over your body as he stood between your knees, his eyes softer than you'd ever seen. As he leaned in, a single kiss was placed to your lips -- one that lingered, one given as a reminder.

You tensed as he positioned himself at your entrance, not engaging in any wild foreplay or torture as the two of you usually did. This time, his actions were slow, meaningful.

"I'd only ever be soft towards you," he promised, sliding his cock inside of you. You gasped, the awaited feeling bringing you instant pleasure after being denied it for so long. "Though, you get me pretty damn hard, I'll tell you that."

You lauguhed, loud and bellious as he smiled down at you, joining in on your chuckling. It warmed your heart to see him smile, really smile like this -- even if it was while being buried inside of you.

He breathed slow as he thrust in and out of you, his pace more restrained than you'd ever experienced. His eyes never left yours, watching and studying your face as though this was the last time he'd see it. Your hands gripped his shoulders, holding on for support as his braced your hip and tangled in your hair.

"I... I love you," he said quietly. Your cheeks flushed, not quite believing what you just heard. His gaze turned worried when you said nothing, and though he brought you immense pleasure, you eventually found your words.

"I love you, Xaden Riorson," you whispered, leaning up to engage him in a passionate kiss. You pulled back, still leaning up to speak directly against his lips.

"I think I've always loved you. I don't know," your breath caught as the tears came again. "I don't know how I'd ever be able to stop."

He sighed as his forehead pressed against yours, drawing in every soft moan you let out as he continued making love to you. It wasn't until you opened your eyes again that you noticed the wetness on his lower lashes, too. You reached up a shaking hand, placing it on his cheek as you wiped away at his sorrow.

He opened his eyes, looking at you once more.

"I still have to convince myself you're real," he said, the hand he had tangled in your hair moving to touch your cheek as well. "You're probably the best thing that's ever happened to me, and I was too stupid to do anything about it."

You gasped as he rubbed against your sweet spot, one he's known and got used to over the last few years. You smiled softly, placing both hands on his shoulders once more.

"You are stupid," you joked, giggling at the way he frowned at you. You leaned in again, softly kissing at his jaw. "But you're mine."

He grunted, his grip on your waist tightening. He thrusted harder into you, drawing out your pleasure until the last possible second before sending you tumbling over the edge. He followed right behind you, gasping as he released himself within you. The two of you stayed there, one on top of the other for a while, just looking into the other's eyes. It wasn't for a while until he pulled himself out of you, opting to lay beside you and tuck you into his chest instead. You had nearly drifted off, his warmth wrapped around you reminding you how tired you'd grown afte the day's events. He kissed your forehead, over and over as the two of you fell asleep there, a quiet comfort amidst your world's constant chaos.

✧･ﾟ: *