#there's a second part after the bundles and so far its much better!!

[hassianlovebot]

Okay so, I don't want to give spoilers in this post so this will all be somewhat vague, but I do want to say that there's another part to the Vault of the Roots after the bundles where the player's actions and dialogue are a lot more.. important and meaningful to the story. If anyone felt that this vault's story left a little to be desired, then definitely try the next part! Like I said, this next part gets started after you finish all four bundles (which isn't too hard or time consuming for this one), and like trust me, it's so much more emotionally and narratively satisfying than the first part is.

(Small spoiler in below paragraph for the first part of the quest!)

I don't want to hype it up too much, but it does handle the player's actions, thoughts, and agency a lot better than the first part. I haven't actually finished it yet so I'm not sure how the ending will be, but honestly, I think it'll be good. I think this next part will be especially more gratifying for players who weren't able to convince The Gardener (aka Hekla was the one to change his mind) since our actions and dialogue in this section directly help him in a much bigger way.

[bluestar22x]

Lost And Found

The Outcast - Part 1: Lost And Found

Summary: You stumble upon a man at death's door.

Pairing: Pero Tovar x F!Reader

Rating: 13+ (eventually 18+)

Word Count: 2,700 (ish)

Warnings: Fowl language, pov changes

Author’s Note: This one just popped into my head out of nowhere. I have so much writing for other fics that I should be doing instead, but my mind had to make this up. It'll be a short series, but how many parts it will have, I have no idea yet.

xxx

Pero Tovar had never felt colder in his life. Though he was bundled in a winter coat and wearing its hood, the chill had still managed to seep down into his bones and numb every bit of his body. It had not mattered whether the skin was exposed or not. His wool lined boots had done little to prevent his toes from freezing up after the first six hours.

They were probably frostbitten by this point, he thought dimly, but was too far gone to be properly concerned. He had to focus just to stay mounted on his horse as he slumped forward over his thick neck, gloved hands weakly entwined in the stallion's long black mane as he trudged slowly through the deep snow. It had been at least a day since they'd fled the town, still snow continued to fall blindingly fast and the wind continued to howl.

It was all William's fault, Pero thought bitterly. He was the reason why he was going to freeze to death in a snowstorm instead of dying on a battlefield or at least in a cozy bed. If only he'd stolen the black powder so they could retire. If only William hadn't finally abandoned him for some pretty damsel on the coast, tired of living only for profit, the next fight.

They'd parted on good terms, he'd even encouraged him, but fuck that bastard for listening. They were supposed to be a team. Brothers even.

If William had been with him when he entered the nearby town they could've taken them, the group of soldiers who had attacked him upon recognition. He'd fought for their enemy, and him being a hired swordsman did not matter. They'd wanted him dead for having killed friends of theirs. When he'd realized he would be no match for their sheer numbers, he'd been forced to flee the town and head for the mountains. He knew how to traverse such landscapes, but the area was new to him, and with the added lack of visibility during the storm he eventually realized that while he'd escaped the soldiers, he'd simply traded one bad situation for another.

Lost. He was utterly lost. And he had nothing on him to start a fire, not having planned to camp out in the forest at this time of year.

Without a way to start a fire and no shelter in sight, he didn't dare stop moving, knowing that if he did his number would likely be up soon after. As long as he was in the saddle, conscious, he was alive. As long as he was alive, there was hope.

As night approached for a second time real fear started to creep into the back of his mind, the reality of his situation grim. Deep down he sensed that if he did not find shelter quickly, he would not see dawn.

He desperately scanned his surroundings for any place to hide in. A cave, a valley with natural barriers to keep the wind out, an abandoned cottage or barn. Anything at all would've been better than wandering through the storm.

But he could barely see more than a few feet in any direction, and all of what he saw was barren besides the accumulating snow and a few shady things that might've been trees in the distance. Trees that were far too spaced apart to be of any use.

His eyes were getting dangerously heavy, sleep threatening to take him without his consent, but he bared his teeth and shook his head in retaliation.

"You will not die here tonight," he growled to himself with all the determination he could muster up. His teeth clacked together, his body quaked like the ground below did on occasion in the southern lands, but he pressed on.

He lasted what was likely only a couple more hours before he stopped shivering, a bad sign he knew, and then his mind blessedly blanked. He became completely dazed, staring out at nothing, feeling nothing, with no final words to speak. Not that anyone would've heard them anyway. He was at his end, and nobody would know when he took his last breath.

Not even himself.

x

It had always fascinated you, how fast mother nature's mood could change. One minute she raged, the wind ravaged, and the snow fell seemingly endlessly, and the next she found her peace, letting the sun rise and the wind deaden.

There were still flurries that early morning, on and off, and the air was still frigid, but that did not deter you from setting out bareback on Clover, your blood bay mare that had a white head marking shaped similarly to the plant that was her namesake. You'd decided you needed more meat to store away for the long winter ahead, especially with how ferocious this last storm had been. It was only the beginning and your gut told you it would only get worst.

Clover was still quite young, barely an adult, but calm for her age. She moved quietly through the forest near your cottage as you peered between trees and glanced at the ground below for any signs of wildlife, bow in hand.

You had to rely on your sight that day since the deep snow would mute most of the typical sounds wildlife made. At least any tracks you found would be guaranteed fresh, you mused.

For three hours Clover plodded through the woods as you scanned the surrounding area with no luck. You knew there were plenty of wildlife in the area, even in winter, but for whatever reason they were apparently extra wary and well hidden that day. Maybe because the snow was so deep and fresh. You doubted if even the rabbits could move around without sinking into it.

You didn't want to turn back, but you were starting to go numb, and rather than losing a few fingers and toes you decided it best to head home early to warm up by the fire. You'd have other days to hunt, and even if you didn't you could probably survive all winter on the vegetables and berries you'd harvested in the autumn and the leftover meat from your last deer hunt if you were careful about your portions. At least that was what you'd told yourself to ease your mind of anxiety.

You decided to take a short cut home through the meadow that broke up the forest, not far away from the cliff edge of the mountainside you lived on. You wouldn't dare travel through that section when it was snowing, but on a clear day there was no chance Clover would get close enough to the deadly drop to put you both in peril so you went for it.

When you and Clover entered the meadow, you spotted a muscular black horse in the distance, standing in the middle of the area like it was on guard, but you could see no other horses nearby for it to protect.

As you neared him, you realized the horse was tacked up with a saddle and bridle, so he couldn't be a domestic horse gone wild as you'd first assumed.

Where was his rider? You thought with concern. The nearest town was a day's ride away on a good day. Had someone dared to attempt to travel through the mountains during the storm? Or had this horse been running around with tack on for a long time?

Your questions were answered when you got within several yards of him and noticed the body by his feet. You halted Clover, stunned.

He was a man, or had been, you could tell. Though he was half buried in the snow and hooded, you could still see part of his masculine face and the long scar that marked the skin above and below his left eye. He was on his back, eyes shut, cheeks reddened from windburn, and he was as still as the dead, so you assumed he was.

You hopped off Clover's back and approached his mount cautiously, not wanting to startle the horse away. You couldn't afford to feed another horse through the winter, but you could at the very least rid him of his tack and leave him with better survival odds than when you'd found him. A horse as loyal as him, as one who stuck by his rider's side when they fell off, deserved at least a chance.

The stallion snorted and stared at you with concerned dark eyes when you were near enough to touch him, and shivered when you ran a hand over his neck, but did not flee.

"Easy, boy," you whispered, trying to soothe him with your voice and touch. "I'm just here to help."

He stomped his front feet and backed away from you, circling around to nuzzle the back of his rider's head.

Your heart ached for him. You imagined all he wanted was for him to get up, for them to continue their travels together.

"I'm sorry I was too late to save him," you said remorsefully - right before a quiet groan slipped from the man's mouth.

You jumped in surprise, and your eyes widened. Had you just imagined that? No. You could see it then, as you stared at the man, the shallow breath he took before you.

You gasped and fell to your knees. "You're alive! Holy shit. Can you speak?" You shook the man's shoulders, but he did not respond, and it became clear to you then that though he was still breathing, he was not conscious at all of his surroundings.

You chewed on your lip, pondering what to do. He likely would not survive without intervention, and you knew no one else would come along, but you were still hesitant to take action. It's not that you hated men, but rather that you didn't trust them. You weren't sure it was wise to bring him to your cottage to warm him up and treat whatever ailments the cold had given him. But what other choice did you have that you could live with? Besides, he would be in no shape to harm you when he first woke up, if he ever did.

You also didn't like the idea of waking up to a dead stranger on your floor.

"Hell," you grumbled. Despite your apprehension, there was no way you were going to leave this man to die. You had a thing for saving the needy. Your heart too soft for the world's evils. It was largely the reason why you lived alone.

You brushed some snow off the man and threw your coat over his torso. "I'll be right back," you promised him, springing to your feet and climbing back onto Clover, immediately kicking her into a canter, the fastest speed she could manage in the snow, as fluffy as it was.

As soon as you arrived at your cottage you hooked her up to the small sled you owned, a bunch of strong branches tied together that you used to drag dead deer and firewood to the cottage. You figured it should hold up long enough to drag the man back to safety.

It took far longer than you liked to return to him, but luckily he did not seem in a state any worst than he had been before you'd left.

After you arrived came the hard part. You were a strong woman, thicker than most, and fit, biceps better toned than some men you'd seen go to war, but the man was broad shouldered and he was wearing armor and weapons under his winter coat that caused him weigh as much as a prized buck, so it took a good amount of effort to tug his dead weight onto the homemade sled. You managed, but on your way back home with him in tow behind Clover and his stallion trotting alongside you both, you wondered how you were going to get him indoors.

It took time, but inch by inch your were able to pull him into your cottage and lay him down to rest in front of the fireplace in the main living area. You wanted to sit down next to him and catch your breath, but you knew time was of the essence. You started a fire and loaded as much wood as you could fit into the space. You then stripped the man of his armor and all his weapons (two swords and a few knives) before finally ridding him of his wet clothes, leaving him stark naked.

You tried not to think inappropriately about his handsome face, his muscular and lean body, and his endowment as you examined him, searching for any possible damage. You decided in the end that he was lucky. Besides old scars that littered his body and some bruising along his abdomen that you knew couldn't be from exposure, he didn't appear to be too hurt physically. He'd managed to escape severe frostbite by some miracle, though his face was going to be angrily red for a while.

Maybe he had a good shot at surviving after all. Then what would you do? Logically send him away as soon as spring arrived, earlier if the snow in the passage melted. If you didn't have to kill him first. You'd defend yourself if you had to, but you were hoping it wouldn't get to that point. You had managed to avoid killing people all your life, and you didn't want to start. Especially with someone you'd put an effort into saving.

You covered him with fur lined blankets, placed one under his head, and tried to get him to drink water, only managing to wet his lips before you gave up and left to tend to the horses outside. You untacked Clover and the black stallion before sending them into separate pastures, Clover with her mother, Meadow, and the stallion alone. After they were settled in you spread out hay for the horses and carried the tack into the barn where you kept the feed for the horses and the goats you raised for milk. The little mischievous black and white creatures, all ten of them, were housed together in a paddock behind the barn for the winter. You fed them too before returning to check on the man.

He was still unconscious, but actively shivering. Progress. You set out his clothes to dry then watched him as you ate a meal of deer meat and berries, sympathy making your stomach flip. You couldn't imagine how much it would suck coming back from nearly freezing to death. It would be better than being dead, you figured, but you'd still hate it, and he still looked so cold.

Taking pity on him, you stood from the chair at your dining table and slipped under the fur blankets, hugging his side closely. It was awkward, being that close to a naked stranger, but facts were facts. Body heat would help him. Besides, you were clothed, so there really wasn't a reason to think of it too weirdly. Or to have any wild thoughts.

As he warmed up and once more stopped shaking, you relaxed a bit, letting your mind wander off away from your initial thoughts of how strange the situation was to how nice it was not to be alone in your home for once, even though present company couldn't talk back and smelled like his horse - which honestly wasn't so bad. He must have bathed not long before his misadventure, you thought.

Your mind eventually dove into the past. You remembered how you'd shared a bed with your older sister when you were little since your parents were too poor to get you separate ones and then how you'd shared a bed with your childhood sweetheart when you'd both turned sixteen and had slipped away to a local tavern to explore each other's bodies, social rules be damned.

You hadn't shared a house, let alone a bed of any sort, with anyone for any reason since, and that made a shockingly long time. Almost embarrassingly when you thought about the romantic aspect of it, until you remembered why you were so isolated and the shame melted away as quickly as it had sneaked in.

You glanced up at the man's face as he began to mumble in his sleep, words unintelligible, his chapped lips twitching under a well kept mustache. You wanted to touch those fine lips and the short, narrow beard that lined his jaw, but you resisted, instead laying your head against his shoulder.

You didn't notice that you were dozing off until sleep had already won.

xxx

Tagged: @harriedandharassed

xxx

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

xxx

[laszlossweetcheese]

hii! may i request laszlo x gender neutral reader whos a supernatural being? they could be a werewolf, or a ghost or even a witch, up to you tbh!! fank you <3

It's been too long, but I'M BACK! Thank you so much for your request! I think I'm going to do a second part to this one, so apologies in advance if it's a bit slow going here.

Laszlo x Gender Neutral Reader

Summary: Reader is a witch trying to make it on their own as a healer. They encounter an interesting new visitor.

Warnings: None

Growing up as a witch in the south had its issues when it came to cultural beliefs about other supernatural beings. You were taught by your mother and her coven that witches were above all, and despite constant arguments with your elders, they remained stuck in their centuries old ways, unwilling to change. As a young witch with a natural talent for healing and the desire to use this skill for the betterment of all supernatural beings, that was something you couldn’t stand for. So, you made the bold decision to move from your home in Georgia, all the way to Staten Island. 

You’d heard that witches near more progressive cities had more of an open mind about equality in supernatural society, but upon your arrival to the big city, you found things weren’t much better than they were back home. It was very kind of the coven that had taken you in to welcome you so warmly, but after a couple of months watching your new witch-siblings make plans to extract the semen from local vampire clans in rather outdated and barbaric ways, you decided to fly solo. 

Returning home would only prove to your mother that you couldn’t handle life that far away from all you’d ever known and you were desperate to prove her wrong. Determined to improve your healing methods and expand your knowledge of other supernatural species, you began visiting the local night market to speak with other beings and collecting as many books as you could. Understandably, most of the other spooks haunting the area were wary of you and your motives, but you pushed on, thankful your stubbornness was finally useful for something. After a while, you had gained something of a clientele, and your humble townhouse became a magical clinic of sorts. 

Being on your own for the first time in your life felt strange at first, but now you had settled into a comfortable routine. Most of your clients preferred to visit you under the cover of night, so you spent your days resting and gathering supplies in preparation for your nighttime patients. It wasn’t the highest paying job by any means, but you finally felt like you were doing something meaningful with your life. Those who couldn’t pay for your services with human money had the option of paying you with knowledge of their species or various ingredients for your remedies, so  you were making great progress in finding new treatments for a much wider variety of ailments.

It was a quiet Autumn evening when your doorbell rang, signaling your first visitor of the night. You left your mortar and pestle on your kitchen island and wiped the remnants of various herbs from your hands onto your apron as you hurried to the door, excited to have company. “Oh, Guillermo! Welcome back, it’s been a while,” you say with a smile to the darked haired man on your stoop. As you step back to let him in, you notice another man standing a few feet behind him, looking rather skeptical of you. His dramatically gothic attire was enough to let you know he was a vampire, even without your witchy senses and you understood his hesitation. Witches and vampires were historical enemies. “And who’s your friend?” You add, offering the vampire a friendly smile in an attempt to gain his trust. 

Guillermo had become somewhat of a regular after stumbling upon your apothecary bundles at the night market. He’s your only human customer, but you’ve welcomed him nonetheless, having found his company to be rather enjoyable. “Hey, good to see you! This is Laszlo, one of the vampires I live with…he’s…well, he’s sick, so I brought him here hoping you can help him out,” Guillermo replies, rubbing the back of his neck a bit nervously as he leans in closer to you. “He’s still not totally on board with getting help from a witch, so…I apologize in advance for anything he’s about to say or do,” he whispers.

“I can hear you Gizmo,” Laszlo huffs, earning an eye roll from the familiar. “And I will not be apologizing for telling this semen stealing demon to fuck off if things get too handsy.” “I’m so sorry,” Guillermo sighs. “It’s alright,” you laugh, standing to the side and opening the door wider for them to enter. “I understand the hesitation, Laszlo. I promise your semen is safe.”

Laszlo is still hesitant, but he follows Guillermo inside, watching you carefully as you close the door behind them. “Please, make yourselves comfortable on the couch. Do you want any tea or anything?” You ask, waiting for them to get settled. Guillermo politely declines your offer and the two men sit down on your sofa, Laszlo still looking tense. You sit down in the plush chair across from them, your hands folded in your lap. “So, Laszlo, what seems to be the issue?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, witch,” the vampire huffs, crossing his arms over his chest. Now that he’s in better lighting, you can see dark circles under his eyes. He looks exhausted. 

“He hasn’t been sleeping,” Guillermo spoke, not wanting to drag this out. “And he’s having trouble turning into a bat.”

“Shut the fuck up Gizmo, you’re giving the witch too much information!” Laszlo hisses.

“Hmm…not sleeping…can’t shift…Laszlo, you have dirt from your homeland under your coffin, yes?” You ask, ignoring the insults. 

“Of course.”

“Alright. And have you been feeding regularly? Nothing’s changed with your diet recently?”

“No, nothing different.”

You think for a moment, getting to your feet and walking over to the bookshelf reserved for your texts on supernatural beings. You pull out a book on vampire anatomy and skim through it until you find what you need. “How long has it been since you’ve had a virgin's blood?” Laszlo takes a second to think it over before giving an answer. “Several months now that I think about it.” He turns to Guillermo, pointing a finger at him. “Thanks to this shit familiar not doing his job.” 

Guillermo gives you a deadpan look, making you struggle to hold back a laugh. “Well, it seems to me like you just need a dose of virgin’s blood to get a good night’s sleep. Once you’re well rested you should be able to use your bat form again,” you explain, closing the book and returning it to its place on the shelf. 

“Great,” Guillermo sighs, looking exhausted himself. “Guess that’s up to me then.”

“Not at all!” You interject, stepping into the kitchen. You return with a cold bloodbag straight from the fridge marked ‘virgin’ with black sharpie. You hold it out to Laszlo, who takes it and looks it over. 

“Right…so I drink this and boom, I’m cured? And you’re not going to take my semen?” Laszlo asks, cocking an eyebrow at you. 

“Like I said, your semen is safe. If I wanted your semen I would’ve taken it already,” you tease, nudging the bag into the vampire’s hand. He finally takes it, still eyeing you as he bites directly into the bag and sucks the whole thing dry within seconds.

He lets out a satisfied hum, licking his lips clean. You watch him with a smile, proud of yourself for your diagnosis. “That blood is going to hit you soon, so I recommend you get going. It’s going to be a lot like taking a bit too much NyQuil when you have a cold,” you explain for Guillermo’s sake so he knows what to expect. “He’ll probably be out for a few days straight to catch up on sleep.”

“Thank you. Seriously, he has been such a pain,” Guillermo says, standing up to give you a handshake, which you return happily. “How should we pay you back? I brought you some spearmint seeds, but I don’t think that’s enough for the blood you gave him.” 

You take the packet of seeds he holds out to you. “That’s perfect, Guillermo! Thank you.” You look over at Laszlo, who looks like he’s fighting off sleep the best he can. “On second thought…I think I’ll be needing that semen as payment.” You bite back a laugh at your own stupid teasing.

“I told you, witches are not to be trusted!” Laszlo slurs, stumbling to his feet and pointing at you. “I don’t care how sexy you are, you are not taking my semen!” 

Your laughter can’t be held any longer at his reaction and you put a gentle hand on his shoulder to help steady him. “Laszlo, I’m only kidding! How about this, you both have to promise to visit me again.”

“We’ll see, witch,” the vampire replies, still swaying from drowsiness. 

“I think we can manage that,” Guillermo chuckles. “Thanks again, you really saved me a lot of trouble.” He hooks an arm around Laszlo to help hold him up and you open the door for them. 

“Anytime! Let me know how he does,” you say, giving them both a wave as they head outside. Guillermo gives you a wave in return with his free hand and then turns his attention back to helping Laszlo stay upright, the two bickering as they stumble off into the night. You watch them with a fond smile, laughing to yourself as you head back inside. 

[kissmyspaceace]

The Lost And The Lascivious

CHAPTER 1 (...) CHAPTER 8 CHAPTER 9

Pairing: Cardinal Copia/Reader Warnings/contents: NSFW, Cardi C getting a treat, somewhat dom!reader Word count: 3.195

AO3 link

Taglist: @chaos-in-person @littlemisscare-all @dancerpanda04 @ballofthedeadrat @skittytreats @mschfmusings @verowo8rocks @sirianisrock ____________________________________________

You awoke alone, to the sound of a crackling fire in the background, cuddled up in warm bed sheets that smelled of candles and musk. You sat up a little and the cold air hit your bare chest as the cover slipped off, causing you to pull it up and cover yourself instinctively. 

Right. The Cardinal and I… what time is it?, you wondered, looking around the room. You yawned, still a little sleepy.

Soon after, you heard footsteps approaching from the neighboring room and Cardinal Copia walked into the bedroom. He had put his clothes back on, except for his cassock, leaving him in his shirt, pants and suspenders. The top buttons of his shirt had been left open, giving him a more leasure look. His mismatched irises glowed in the dim light of the room as soon as he saw you. “Finally awake again, cara? Did you sleep well?”, he purred, casually strutting over to the bed.

“I think so”, you mumbled, scratching your head, “How long did I sleep? What time is it?”

The mattress bent as he sat down on the bed, placing a hand on your thigh. “Don’t you worry your pretty little head. It’s not even dark yet.”

Sighing in relief, you nodded. You noticed him staring at you, and it made a small blush creep up on your cheeks again. You were still naked, with only the bed’s cover protecting you from his gaze. “Uhm, maybe I should pick up my clothes again, too”, you squeaked.

“Ah, don’t mind that, tesoro. I neatly put them away for you”, he chirped with a wide smile.

“So, where are they? Could you-”

He hushed you by putting a gloved finger on your lips. “Ah-ah-ah, no. I have something much better for you. Stay put, I will fetch it.”

He got up and wandered to a large wooden chest in the corner of the room, pulling a few articles of clothing out of it. They were neatly folded, and seemed to be new.

As he met back with your confused gaze, he got a little flustered.

“You see, eh, I… I got inspired by the part of your wardrobe you have presented me so far. So I got these for you”, he said.

“You shouldn’t have”, you replied as he handed you the clothes. “Thank you so much.”

“Please wear them for me, cara mia.”

You looked around for a mirror and quickly found it. The Cardinal held his place, however. With seemingly no intention to leave.

“I, uhm. C- Could you maybe…”, you stammered, vaguely gesturing towards the door.

“Oh, eh, yes. Of course! I’m sorry.” He hurried out the door, and closed it to allow you some privacy. “Let me know when you’re done!”

You stepped out from under the covers and went to assess the items of clothing that Copia had given to you. The largest item turned out to be a dress. Its fabric was a bit shimmery and its colour was something between a deep red and black, making it very unique. Considering its length, it felt more like a gown than a simple dress. 

The second part of your clothing bundle was a set of underwear. Sheer, black lace. Not surprising. You started with the underwear, expecting it not to fit perfectly, considering that the Cardinal must have eyeballed your size. Much to your surprise, it slid on and fit pretty much perfectly. The panties had a high-rise tanga cut, complimenting the length of your legs. The bra was without padding, making it an easy fit. It was stunning in its own right, and yet simple and timeless.

As you pulled the gown over your head, the cool fabric tickled your skin. It was sheer in some places, and the floor-length, flowy skirt was cut in two places, showing a little bit of leg in certain poses and movements. And - just like the underwear - it fit just fine. You could have gotten lost in the small details and nooks and folds of this fine piece of garment, but a muffled cough behind the door shook you out of your thoughts.

"Oh, right. You can come back in if you want to!", you called, barely taking your eyes off the mirror.

A small click followed by a creaking noise and footsteps announced his re-entry of the room, and in mere seconds he was standing behind you, joining your reflection in the mirror. For a long moment, he did not speak. Neither did you; patiently awaiting his judgment.

Cardinal Copia sighed as he put an arm around your waist and pulled you closer, placing a soft kiss on the side of your neck afterwards. Your eyes met in the mirror when he looked back up from your neck.

“Just like I had imagined, cara mia. It’s perfect”, he whispered.

You blushed. “These fit unexpectedly well. How did you know my size, Cardinal?”

A deep chuckle escaped him, and he placed another kiss on your neck. "I have my ways."

"Sure", you sighed, playfully rolling your eyes at him. "Mr. Magic Man keeps his secrets."

He let out a heartful laugh and gave you a gentle squeeze. "Yes, I do."

Then he turned you around to face him. "I made some tea in the next room. Let's go."

You followed him back into the main room, where he pulled out one of the ornamented armchairs for you to sit on. Thanking him with a polite nod, you sat down. You watched as he poured tea for you and then himself, and then sat down on an armchair across from you. You were divided by a small, round wooden table that matched the armchairs perfectly. 

Quietly sipping on your tea, your eyes wandered around the room again. You enjoyed finding small details in your surroundings. After spending a while in silent bliss, the Cardinal’s chuckle broke the silence. “What are you looking at all the time, cara?”

You shrugged. “I just like looking around. That’s all.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “You know what they say. Curiosity killed the cat?”

You cocked your head and looked at him questioningly.

“I mean, not everyone enjoys having people look at their stuff like that. Or, in general, maybe it’s best not to let the eye wander too much… you never know”, he added, sipping on his tea.

You furrowed your brows. "Fine then. Where am I allowed to look?"

"Oh, anywhere, really. I'm present, after all, so it's no problem, really. But, eh, let's say, something like snooping around wouldn’t be the best idea."

Sighing, you put your teacup down. "I don't usually do stuff like that, Cardinal. So, no worries."

He looked up from his tea and noticed your disgruntled expression. His eyes scanned your face, thinking about what to say. Apparently he had upset you somehow, but he couldn’t point his finger to it. Maybe a change of topic would ease the tension.

"So, eh, how do you like the tea?"

Your expression barely changed, and you avoided eye contact in addition. "It's good, thanks. I like it."

Cardinal Copia cringed at his failed attempt to fix the mood. He felt his awkwardness return with every sentence he spoke. Painful silence followed. More than one minute passed, before the Cardinal found his voice again.

"I'm- I'm sorry, tesoro. I'm not used to having someone with me down here anymore", he then finally sighed. "I, eh, I can be a little nervous about my privacy and my- eh, the documents…"

You raised one eyebrow at him. “Really?”

“Si, si. I, eh… well, just- just don’t mind it”, he stammered.

He had returned to full on awkward mess. If you were being honest, it was very adorable and entertaining to watch.

“Alright then”, you replied quietly, sipping on your tea. You felt his mismatched irises stare you down, even though you weren’t even looking at him. It sent a cold shiver down your spine, and you felt your cheeks heat up. There was something on his mind, you could feel it. After another torturous moment of silence, he spoke up again.

“Cara, come over here. Please.”

Looking up, you saw that he was motioning for you to get up and come over to him. You put your tea cup down, and walked up to his armchair, wondering what he was up to.

The Cardinal reached out for your hand and took it in his, gently rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand. He looked at you, his eyelids heavy with something you couldn’t quite identify. “You’re so beautiful, cara mia. These garments… I know I kind of dug my own grave with that, but… they allure me, they torture me”, he breathed. His voice was low and rumbly. As your eyes wandered down onto his lap, you understood what he was talking about. The fabric of his pants was stretching tightly around his crotch area, showing the outline of his lust clearly. He placed a kiss on your hand. “Please, cara…”

His breath was hot and steamy on your skin, as you contemplated what exactly he was asking for. Did he want you to take the dress off? No, you had a better idea.

The image in front of you, of Cardinal Copia breathing heavily with need, eyes dark with lust and desire - it was something that made your heart flutter. He looked so helpless, so needy. But at the same time, there was a predatory shimmer in his eyes. It moved something within you.

You smiled and stepped in front of him, placing your hands on his thighs as you went down on your knees.

There was a spark of excitement in his eyes, mixed with a tiny hint of surprise and wonder. The tendons in his neck visibly moved as he swallowed harshly.

You let your hands travel up his thighs and he inhaled sharply. “C- Cara… what-”

Cocking your head to the side, you grinned at him. “You said my clothes torture you, didn’t you? Maybe I can help you. Or maybe torture you some more?”

“You don’t have to do that, tesoro. I- ah-”. He hissed as your hands roamed dangerously close to his crotch, but traveled down to his knees again.

Replying with merely a low chuckle, you continued your little game. As a next instance, you started circling your finger around his bulge in a wide radius - anywhere but where he needed you.

He bucked his hips needily, looking for any sort of friction he could get. You clicked your tongue disapprovingly, as you started tracing your fingernails up and down his thighs, away from his source of need. A frustrated groan escaped him, and he started gripping the armrests with more force, making the leather of his gloves stretch around his knuckles. You silently smiled to yourself, absolutely enjoying his reactions. 

He was trying his best to restrain himself, when really all he wanted to do was tackle you down and take you right then, right there. On the floor, if he had to. He kept telling himself to keep calm, and that it would be worth it - seeing as you seemed to have a good time toying with him. The spark in your eyes was close to predatory, a sly smile playing on your lips. Satanas, it was like a dream. The Cardinal could not remember ever being touched like this- teased like this before. The blood in his veins was boiling with desire.

At last, your fingers finally graced his bulge through the fabric of his trousers and he hissed at the touch. "You're fighting yourself, aren't you?", you asked in a low, gentle voice.

The sound trickled through his ear canals like honey. "Sí, I am. I really am. Per favore, cara…"

His heavy breathing obstructed his ability to talk normally, causing him to push out the words bit by bit.

You propped your elbow up on his thigh, resting your chin on your hand lazily, and cupped him with your full palm, gently rubbing away.

A groan escaped his throat, and he restrained himself from bucking into your touch again, fearing you'd punish him by moving your hand away, like you did last time. 

A cascade of mumbled pleas flooded from his lips, his brows furrowed, small pearls of sweat forming on his temple.

Reaching for the buttons of his pants, you smiled sweetly and placed a small peck on the towering tip of his covered groin.

The man feared he might go mad from either pleasure or the torture of you taking your time, but if he was being honest, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

He gave a small sigh of relief as the unbuttoning of his pants finally freed him from the constraint, letting you get a good look at his full length. No underwear, hm?

You rested your hands on his thighs, watching him. At this point, his previous relief was replaced by even more torture, as you had ceased your touch almost entirely. He ground his teeth.

His excitement was clearly visible, his member twitching every now and then. Letting go of the armrest with one hand, he used it to cover his face. "I am begging you, cara. Please. Please…"

"What would you like me to do, Cardinal?", you asked teasingly, running your nails up and down his thighs again.

"Touch me. Touch me, cara, I beg you. I can't take this any longer."

"As you wish", you breathed and gently wrapped your hand around him, drawing circles on his tip with your thumb. He threw his head back with a low moan, his peaked arousal rendering him more sensitive to your touch.

"If you have any further wishes, let me know."

You started stroking him slowly, making sure to work him as tenderly as possible. With every move of your wrist his chest was heaving, and his grip on the armchair grew tighter again. 

"Ah- go faster, tesoro", he huffed.

"I don't know about that, Cardinal. I feel it wouldn’t last too long then, would it? Be patient and I will think of something to reward you", you hummed.

"I'm trying", the Cardinal moaned, his legs trembling, "Cara, this is torture. This is-"

"But you brought it upon yourself, remember?"

His eyes were clouded with lust, and he swallowed harshly. "Yes."

"I think you enjoy this more than you'd like to admit."

"... yes."

"I'm glad, then."

You used the opportunity of his half-lidded gaze being tied to the ceiling to initiate the next level. Leaning forward, you licked a trail from his base up to the tip, and let your tongue swirl around it.

Cardinal Copia's whole body twitched at the new sensation. He moaned, slowly moving his head back up.

"You better keep your eyes on the ceiling, Cardinal. Just relax", you hummed, letting go of him as a warning.

He let his head drop back against the armchair, eyes closed. "Sí, cara. Sí."

Pleased with his obedience, you turned your attention back to his aching member. Without a second thought, you decided to give the man something more and went to take his full length into your mouth, announcing it with another swirl of your tongue before engulfing him fully, all the way down to the base.

The sound that escaped him could only be described as some sort of guttural groan. His thighs were shaking violently as he relished in the feeling.

Him being so reactive only irked you on, making you put double the effort in your mouth's work. With every time that your head moved up and down, the Cardinal moaned and groaned, his fingers growing fidgety on the arm rests. A few more bobs of your head turned him into a moaning mess, chest heaving, threatening to lose control over himself. 

"Ah- mh- cara, please… I- I can't keep going like this, I'm going to-", he whined, the words tumbling from his lips in an uncontrolled manner.

You slowly slid off him, teasingly sucking the tip as you let go, making him exhale shakily. 

"Tell me, what would you like me to do?"

"Don't… stop… please", he begged. "Please continue, cara. Please."

You complied, stepping up your game even more, sending him back to being a moaning mess. You felt him getting more and more tense by the minute, knowing he was close.

"Careful, tesoro- I'm gonna-"

Not stopping, you felt him tense up one final time, his breath hitching in his throat. He came undone with a loud groan, his member twitching, as you readily swallowed all that he gave you.

The Cardinal's forceful grip on the chair finally loosened, and his body slumped into the seat. He was breathing heavily as he slowly came down from his high. 

Getting back onto your feet, you wiped your mouth and leisurely walked back to your own chair, where you dusted off your gown and sat back down. You went back to sipping on your tea as if nothing had happened, internally smiling like an idiot. 

You'd left him sitting there, unpacked, as he came back to his senses. He lifted his head and looked at you, his hair a little disheveled from sweat running down his temples. A satisfied grin spread across his face. 

"This was really unexpected, cara. I must admit", he chuckled, buttoning his pants back up. 

"Not unwelcome, I hope", you replied with a smile.

He laughed. "Oh, absolutely not! That was- eh, I- I cannot find the words. It was…"

"... not too bad?", you suggested.

His brows twitched and he shook his head. "Don't sell yourself for less than your worth, now. It was breathtaking. Mind-blowing. Otherworldly. Devilish."

"Oh. Seems like I fit in pretty well here then, no?", you chirped, lifting your brows at him.

Cardinal Copia replied with a satisfied hum, lifting up his teacup to his mouth.

The two of you finished your tea in silence, before starting some casual conversation. It was a pleasant talk, no painful small talk at all. The Cardinal asked you about some of your favourites, and you asked him about his. It felt like you were getting to know each other a little more on a personal level, which you enjoyed.

"Say, (Y/N), are you free on friday night?", he asked with a small spark in his eyes.

"I think so. What are you planning?"

"Eh, I just wanted to invite you over. Maybe for dinner and some wine?"

You smiled. "Yes, I think I'd like that."

He nodded. "Molto bene."

When you decided to take your leave, Cardinal Copia returned your original clothes to you and brought you up to the church’s main door. As you turned around, thanking him for his hospitality, he shut you up with a hungry kiss. It lasted for a good moment and left both of you breathless. He finally sent you off with a small peck on your cheek, smiling warmly.

You went back home with a warm, fuzzy feeling in your belly. Just as always, he’d stay on your mind most of the time.

But you couldn’t possibly have fallen for him, could you?

[depressedhatakekakashi]

Alabaster Blizzard

Words: 4,822

Pokemon AU: Snow

Characters: Hatake Yua (OC), Mifune, Hatake Kakashi

@alumort

Blizzards could begin without any warning.

All her life Yua had been warned of the risks of blizzards whipping up out of nowhere and blocking her path home. She’d listened to stories of children who’d gone missing and were never found again, listened to all of her father’s instructions on what to do if she ever found herself caught in a blizzard, and prepared.

As warden of the Alabaster Icelands, there was no one better prepared to deal with a blizzard if one happened. She and Mamoswine had gone searching through the bitterly cold winds and fought through blinding walls of snow that refused to vanish no matter how far they walked.

She’d dug fellow clan’s men out of the snow and bundled them up in blankets for the ride home without a second worry because she knew they would be safe.

She and Mamoswine would get them home safely no matter what challenges they had to face to do so. But even with all their skills they didn't always succeed.

There had been funerals held for those who’d been found too late, or who hadn’t been found at all. Still, they continued searching almost every blizzard and Chiyo had once told her with great pride that she had one of the highest success rates she’d ever seen. 

Yua would be lying if her own pride hadn’t swelled a little when she heard that, but she’d tried hard not to show it. Arrogance was a part of her personality but it was unnecessary to show it to others. 

After years of acting as warden alongside the Pearl clan’s warden, Mifune, she’d begun to think there was no challenge she couldn’t face, and it was at that moment when her confidence swelled a little too much that the world decided to challenge her.

“Kakashi,” her eyes scanned over the small room full of children. It was where the clan always went when there was a really bad blizzard. The perfect place to keep everyone safe, and yet no matter how much she looked she couldn’t spot her son anywhere.

He wasn’t huddled among the group of kids playing marbles, or hiding in the far right corner beside the bookcase reading.

He wasn’t anywhere to be seen.

“I don’t think I saw him come in,” Chiyo’s words pierced straight through her heart, knocking the wind right out of her lungs. “Yua-“

“What do you mean?” she demanded, struggling to keep her anger at bay. “He was playing with the other children. He was supposed to be in the village with everyone else. What could he have gone!?”

Chiyo opened her mouth to answer, but no words came. For once in her life she was speechless, and Yua was left with a terrible sinking feeling in her stomach. 

“Yua,” Ayame, her old childhood friend, stepped forward. “I’m sorry. I was watching Kakashi, but I turned my back for a second and when I looked back he was gone. Before I could even think of searching for him the Blizzard rolled in.”

“Gone?” her voice cracked, worry seeping into her words. “Gone where?”

“I’m not sure,” her friend looked away from her, ashamed to meet her eye. “I saw him and the other boys playing with an Elekid that had found its way into the village, but neither of them was there when I looked back.”

The sounds of the room faded into the background. All Yua could hear was the pounding of her heart in her ears. 

Kakashi was gone. He was missing during one of the worst blizzards of the year, and she wasn’t even out in the field ready to search for him.

“Yua!” A hand came down hard on her shoulder and yanked her out of her spiraling thoughts. “Go!”

There was no need for a second order. As soon as she heard the word leave Chiyo’s mouth she was gone.

The cold bitter wind slammed against her body, but she pushed through and dragged her way forward until she found her Mamoswine lying just outside the perimeter of the clan's little village.

“Mamoswine!” She called out, her voice oozing panic. Seeming to sense the trouble that abounded, Mamoswine waited just long enough for Yua to pull herself up onto her back and yank her scarf up over her mouth and nose before standing. “Out! To the field! We need to find Kakashi!” 

In all their years together Yua had never seen her partner move as quickly as she did today. Perhaps it was because Mamoswine could feel her fear in the way she clutched the fur on her back a little tighter than normal, or maybe she’d heard the panic that laced her words when she’d spoken.

Either way, Yua was thankful for her partner's quick actions at the moment. There wasn’t a single moment they could waste away in their search. 

The Alabaster Icelands were known all over the region for the wide variety of ice-type Pokemon that could be found there. Many members of the Pearl clan had expressed interest in exploring the islands to meet new Pokemon, but Mifune had always cautioned them to avoid the area.

As wonderful as the Pokemon were, the weather was deadly for anyone who was ill-prepared.

“You alright?” he called out to Bisharp as the wind cut through his jacket as if it wasn’t even there. 

A low, steely cry was the answer he received. Bisharp’s discomfort was evident in the way its voice tilted a bit lower than usual, but otherwise, it did nothing to show that it was incapable of moving forward. An impressive feat given they weren’t even supposed to be outside in this weather.

If it hadn’t been for the small Snover who’d gotten separated from its parents, the two of them would be safe in their cabin waiting out the blizzard. Mifune would have a nice warm cup of tea in hand, Bisharp would be perched beside its favorite window watching the blizzard whipping up snow just outside their cozy home, and everything would be good. 

Instead, they were stuck outside trudging their way through heaps of snow toward the nearest cave, building, or whatever cover they could find to keep themselves safe from the weather.

“Lord Avalugg must be loving this weather,” dragging his feet through the snow, he squinted when he saw something ahead of him. A small shadow that could easily be a Pokemon, but which didn’t seem to move with the same confidence as anything which was used to the harshness of the climate. “Bisharp!”

His partner surged forward, cutting through the wind as if it were little more than a branch that broke easily under the sharp slice of Bisharp's cold steel arms. Running after it, he grunted when the wind crashed against his chest and forced him to stop after only two short steps. 

Taking a moment, he focused on the feeling of the wind around him. When it died down, he stepped forward. If it picked up again, he stopped. It was a tedious task, but Mifune approached it with a calm head, just as Yua had taught him when he first arrived at the Icelands.

“Don’t try to move when the wind is against you,” she’d instructed while offering a hand to help him up off of the ground after he’s been knocked onto his butt. “Even if there is no blizzard, the wind here is unforgiving. Listen to it and move when it tells you to move.”

Finally, after pausing to allow the wind to push past him five more times, he reached his destination.

“Bisharp,” he called out, his Pokemon turning to him just as he stepped up to its side. “What is it we’ve fou- Oh!?”

Moving its body, Bisharp allowed Mifune to see the small figure that it was currently shielding from the wind. A young boy, no older than five if he had to guess, huddled up in a giant white coat with the diamond clan symbol on the chest and a tiny bundle of brown fur clutched against his chest. 

Thinking quick, he dug into his side pouch and retrieved the Celestica flute which he’d been gifted when he was given the position of Lord Avalugg’s warden. Pressing it against his mouth, he placed his fingers over the holes in the exact way Yua had shown him and blew.

The high pitched note rang out through the air, its beautiful sound dimmed by the howling of the blizzard winds but Mifune had no doubt it would reach its target. With that completed, he stuffed the flute back into his pouch and shrugged off his jacket. “Here,” he threw the jacket around the young child’s body and scooped them up into his arms. “We’ll get you home, I promise.”

Beside him, Bisharp straightened itself up and looked skyward as a familiar cry rang through the air.

“Lord Braviary is on the way,” he spoke softly, his arms tightening around the child as he waited for help to arrive. “We’ll get you somewhere safe.”

The wind crashed against his body, forcing him to take a step back so that he didn’t fall over. Just as it began to pick up, threatening to send Mifune and his new companion flying, a large mass swooped down in front of them and blocked the wind.

“Lord Braviary!” He called out, smiling when the bird tilted its head. “I apologize. I know I’m not supposed to call you unless it’s an emergency, but…well,” opening his arms, he watched as Lord Bravery leaned in to get a closer look at the child he was holding. “We need to get them somewhere safe!”

Not one to waste a moment, much like its warden, Braviary around and lowers itself just enough for Mifune to crawl onto its back. “Thank you!” He called out as he crawled onto the Pokemon’s back. “Bisharp!”

His partner answered with a low cry and began running ahead. Once Mifune had a good grip on Lord Braviary’s feathers, the Nobel Pokemon spread its wings and lifted off of the ground. Before flying into the sky, though, it swooped over Bisharp and grabbed it around its body using its giant claws. 

Although he expected some resistance from the wind, Mifune realized quickly that Lord Braviary was flying as smoothly as it always did. There was no resistance at all, as if it was flying with the wind, rather than against it. 

“Don’t try to move when the wind is against you.” Yua’s words repeated in his mind and Mifune couldn’t help but laugh at his own nievity. Where he’d assumed her words had come from her own wisdom, he now realized she had learned it from someone else just as he had.

Or rather, something else. 

The bitter cold was something Yua was used to.

Her bones had acclimatized to the constant winter weather when she was a child. Sometimes when Mifune or Sakumo commented on her lack of proper winter clothing she liked to joke about how her blood had turned to Ice when she was only fifteen years old. 

Yua lived and breathed winter. In all of her life she’d never once found herself complaining about the cold weather, until today.

Today, her bones ached.

Her fingers screamed in agony as the wind lashed against them, drying out the tender skin so much that she could feel it beginning to crack. If she didn’t get somewhere warm soon she was likely to parish.

“Mamoswine-” She tried to tighten her hold on her partner’s fur, but her fingers screamed in agony at the smallest movement. 

A loud screech tore through the air at that moment, and without a thought, Yua turned her gaze skyward. There, hovering high above her, just within sight, was a mere shadow of a Pokemon. It was a Pokemon that she knew, though. A Pokemon that she could recognize without ever having to lay eyes on it.

The Nobel Pokemon Braviary. The Pokemon which she had been tasked to care for since she was only thirteen years old.

“What…” Sitting up, she watched as the Nobel Pokemon swooped down in front of them just low enough for Mamoswine to see it easily and began turning to the left. “You…you found him…”

For the first time since she and Mamoswine had begun their search, Yua felt a spark of hope igniting in her soul. 

There was no explainable reason for why she felt that way. It could have been anyone that Lord Braverary had found, and it was simply leading her to them so that she could care for them until the Blizzard cleared up.

This wouldn’t be the first time the Nobel Pokemon led her to someone in need, but everyone else in the Pearl clan had been accounted for and other than Mifune there was no one outside of her clan in the Alabaster Icelands. 

Even Team Galactic researchers didn’t dare wander into the Icelands. As reckless as they could be, they didn’t dare go past the border between Cornet Highlands and Alabaster Icelands unless they were accompanied by someone from the Pearl clan, and even then it was rare.

That left only two options.

Lord Braviary had either found Kakashi in the snow fields and taken him somewhere safe before going to find her, or Mifune had injured himself and was in need of medical attention.

She hoped it was the first one, but either way, her aid was needed.

“Mamoswine, Follow Lord Braviary!” 

Doing as she was told, Mamoswine quickly turned herself to follow after the Nobel Pokemon, and finally, Yua felt the wind relenting. It was still cold and bitter, whipping all around her, but it no longer assaulted her head-on. 

“Right,” she snorted, recalling one of the first lessons she had learned from Lord Braviary when she was still young. “Never walk against the wind. How stupid of me.”

It was no wonder her hands ached. She’d focused so much of her attention on searching the snowy ground for any signs of her son that she’d forgotten to pay attention to where they were going, and instead of allowing Mamoswine to lead the way she’d tried to control the direction in which they headed.

Her fears had clouded her judgment, and even now when she’d realized her mistake she knew it would happen again. 

For anyone else, she would keep a clear head. The lessons she’d learned from the clan elders and Lord Braviary would lead her just as they always had and she would find whoever it was who needed her aid.

Kakashi was a different story, though.

Yua couldn’t keep a clear head when it was her son’s life in danger.

She couldn’t recall the lessons she’d committed to memory when all her mind would focus on was the crushing fear of losing her precious scarecrow. 

“Please…” she whispered, her eyes glued on Lord Braviary’s back as they made their way through the blizzard. “Please be alright.”

Children were usually rambunctious. They loved to run around, play, and make as much noise as possible. That was what Mifune had noticed whenever he found himself interacting with the Pearl clan.

Their children always seemed to have endless amounts of energy even when they were feeling under the weather.

“Here,” he held a granola bar out to the child and watched as he examined it. “I have not poisoned it, I promise.” Rather than taking the offering, though, the child simply pulled Mifune’s jacket tighter around himself and buried his face into the fur collar. “You are rather stubborn, aren’t you?” 

“Pree,” the little bundle of brown fur, Eevee, stood up from her spot and nudged her nose against her partner’s leg. “Pree!”

The plea was clear to Mifune even though he’d never interacted with the tiny Pokemon before. Eevee was begging her partner to take the offering. To eat something after the terrible experience they’d just gone through.

Even with his partner’s cries calling out to him, the boy continued to sit there with his face buried into Mifune’s jacket, staring up at the Warden with curious black eyes. A stare that reminded Mifune of a particular friend of his.

“So,” pulling the offering back, he settled into his spot. “What were you doing all the way out in the fields? Shouldn’t you have been in the village playing with the other children?”

Lifting his head, the boy lowered his eyes. “I was playing,” he whispered. “A Pokemon joined us. I started following it around and when I looked up again I was outside of the village.”

A stray Pokemon leading a child away from the village. It wasn’t unheard of, but usually when cases like that did occur the Pokemon stuck around long enough to either lead the child back to their village or the child would never be seen again.

In this case, the Pokemon seemed to have abandoned the boy.

“It got scared,” the boy continued. “When the snow started blowing and it became hard to see it ran away. I tried to run after it but I couldn’t keep up.”

“And then you were trapped,” Mifune sighed. “It was lucky for you that Bisharp and I were in the area. If we hadn’t found you-” Bisharp cried out, silencing the terrifying words that Mifune had almost spoken aloud.

“Lord Braviary would have,” the boy insisted with a passion he hadn’t shown at all before. “Mother is always telling me about how amazing it is. How it can fly through the harsh blizzard winds and find anyone it’s looking for.”

“Lord Braviary?” Mifune shook his head. It was true that the Nobel Pokemon was amazing, and without its aid, the two of them would have been forced to trek through the harsh blizzard wind searching for cover. Calling on his friends respected Nobel had been helpful in getting the young boy to safety, but it seemed that he’d been fed stories that painted an even better picture of the great Nobal than what was true. “Lord Braviary is fantastic, but-”

“No!” the boy snapped. “No buts. The only Pokemon better than Lord Braviary is Mother’s partner, Mamoswine!”

Mother’s Mamoswine.

Suddenly, a lot of things made sense.

The boy's cold attitude had seemed strange, but now Mifune was faced with memories of an equally cold teenage Yua who had tried her best to ignore him for the first month she’d known him.

Nothing on the boy's face looked at all like Yua, though with the lower part of his face hidden by a large green scarf, it was hard for Mifune to tell exactly what he looked like, but his personality seemed a picture-perfect copy of her.

“Kakashi?” A familiar voice called out, causing both boys to turn their attention toward the cave entrance where they were greeted by Yua’s towering figure standing in the center of the entrance with her partner Pokemon just behind her. “Oh, Kakashi-”

For the first time since he’d come to the Alabaster Iceland, Mifune found himself watching as Yua ran passed him without a single concern and scooped her child up into her arms. If he squinted he was certain he would see tears of relief falling from her eyes, but he refrained.

It would be rude of him to pay so much attention to detail when his friend was no doubt experiencing one of the most terrifying days of her life.

“Mom…”

“Shush,” she whispered as her arms tightened around the boy's body. 

Averting his eyes, Mifune stared out of the cave and watched as the snow blew by. A personal moment between mother and son was the last thing he wanted to infringe upon with his presence but there wasn’t much choice in the matter.

“How did you find us?” he heard the boy ask. 

“Lord Braviary,” Yua answered, her usual calm returning to her voice. “I’ve been searching for hours. Where did you run off to?”

“I-I’m not sure. I was following the Pokemon-”

“Elekid,” Mifune’s ears perked up when he heard fondness in Yua’s words. His eyes stayed focused on the blizzard outside, but it was impossible for him to block out the conversation happening right beside him, and if he was being honest with himself he didn’t want to. It was a nice change to hear such softness in his friend's voice. “You wanted to learn about it, didn’t you?”

“Yes…” 

“You-” pausing, Yua released a small, restrained breath. “You really are your father's son, Kakashi.”

“And yours.” Mifuhne winced when he realized the words he’d been thinking were spoken out loud, and in an instant, Yua’s attention turned away from the son she’d no doubt been worrying about since the start of the blizzard and focused on him.

“And me?” she asked, an amused expression greeting Mifune when he dared to look her way. “And what are you doing here? I thought A Dimond clan warden would be smart enough to get himself to safety before the blizzard hit?”

A jab. Playful with a hint of seriousness.

Her way of asking him a question she didn’t dare speak out loud.

Are you Injured?

“I was helping a lost Pokemon,” he explained, waving a hand over his body to show her that there were no injuries on him. “Bisharp and I got caught in the Blizzard, but we were lucky enough to find him,” he nodded toward the young boy who was still being held tightly in Yua’s arms. “Lord Braviary helped us to get here.”

“So you used it,” she smiled. “The note I taught you?”

“Well, Lord Avalugg would have been helpful as well, but it would have taken us longer to get to shelter.”

“Lord Avalugg still would have gotten you to safety,” she argued. “But- thank you. For finding him.”

Looking between the two of them, Mifune couldn’t help but smile. It was rare for him to get a glimpse into Yua’s life outside of her duties as a Warden. Her personal life was wrapped so tightly into herself, protected from the rest of the world, that he barely knew anything about her childhood or even the things she did when she wasn’t with Lord Braviary.

What he knew about her was her love for books, her incredible kindness, and her fascination with bringing her favorite tea everywhere with her so that she could have a cup wherever she was, which she always offered to share with him so long as he agreed to make it. 

“Mom?” the boy called out, his eyes focused solely on her. “He’s Diamond clan.”

Looking back at her son, Yua offered a kind, comforting smile. The type of smile she usually reserved for those moments when she’d offer Mifune a warm cup of Tea during a late night outside watching the stars, or for those fleeting moments when she’d tell him about the family he never got to meet.

At least, he’d never gotten to meet either of them until today.

“He is,” she confirmed. “But he’s special.”

Mifune covered his mouth, barely containing the laugh that threatened to escape his throat at his friend's words.

“Special?” the boy asked, his eyes darting over to Mifune and examining him for just a second before returning to his mother. “How?”

“Well, you see,” releasing her grip on her son she sat back and placed her right forefinger against her lips while a thoughtful expression settled onto her face. “It’s…an interesting situation.”

“Like you and dad?”

Both Mifune and Yua cringed at those words. “No,” she answered swiftly. “No, your father and I are a couple. As strange as some view our relationship, we’ve been together for years.”

“And, you two?”

“We’re friends,” Mifune answered when Yua failed to answer with her usual swiftness.

“Friends, yes,” Yua confirmed. “Mifune is a Warden, like me.”

The boy narrowed his eyes and seemed to think over the information he had received before opening his mouth to speak. “If he’s your friend, why haven’t I met him before?”

A better question had never been asked, In Mifune’s opinion.

“You…well…” glancing back his way, Yua sighed. “Neither of you are going to accept any answer I give, are you?”

“No,” they answered in unison, both of them looking at each other when they’d realized what they had done. 

“Of course not,” Shoulder’s sagging in defeat, Yua settled into her spot. “Well, we have some time before this Blizzard is finished. A perfect opportunity to fix that, don’t you think?”

Staring at each other, Mifune and the boy said nothing. Mifune because he had no idea where to even begin since he hadn’t even realized Yua had ever been with child, though now that he knew her mysterious disappearance six years ago made a lot more sense. 

“Let’s start with names,” Yua suggested with a cheerful smile. “Mifune, this is my son, Kakashi.”

Kakashi. Scarecrow.

Once before Mifune had heard his friend's lover’s name and joked about how it meant ‘crops’ and now he was faced with the terrible realization that his cool, romance-loving friend was a terrible jokester.

“Hello,” the boy, Kakashi, waved to him as his Eevee jumped up onto his lap. “Dad says you’re nicer than mom.”

Bringing a hand up over his mouth, Yua tried her best to hide that smile that stretched across her lips but failed spectacularly and simply shrugged her shoulders when Mifunhe raised an eyebrow. “Is he wrong?”

“You are nice,” He sighed. “But…given your rather cold approach to other people, I find it…difficult to argue. One question though.”

“How does he know about you when you haven’t met him?”

“That would be the question, yes.”

“Is it so hard to believe that I speak to my husband about my closest friend?”

All night Mifune had been cold. His fingers had ached under the relentless attack of the wind crashing against him, and even in the safety of the cave Lord Braviary had taken them to he still hadn’t managed to properly warm up without his jacket.

Those few, simple words from Yua instantly chased away the cold, though. His heart swelled with warmth and immediately spread throughout his body, easing his aches and removing all traces of cold from his body.

It was as if he had found a fire to sit himself down beside, except instead of flames to warm his body it was love.

The love of his friend telling one of the most important people in her life all about him, and him in turn relaying that information to their son. 

“Ridiculous,” pushing herself to her feet, Yua took a few short steps toward Mifune and leaned forward so that her face was now mere inches away from his. “You should know better.”

“You’re not exactly the most open person I’ve ever met,” he argued. “It seems only natural that you would keep that information to yourself.”

Reaching out her left hand, she extended two fingers and gently tapped them against the side of Mifune’s head. “Just because I don’t tell the whole world about my life, doesn’t mean I don’t talk about it,” she responded with a tender smile. “The whole world doesn’t need to know. Only my most precious people do.”

My most precious people.

A smile stretched across Mifune’s face as the words swirled around in his head.

Straightening herself up. Yua looked over at her son as he huddled back into Mifune’s coat. “Oh, and Mifune?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you,” she whispered, that same fond expression that she’d worn when she first entered the cave returning to her face. “For finding him. I don’t know what I would do-”

“Do you have tea?”

“What?” she looked back at him with confusion in her eyes. 

“Do you have tea?” he asked again. “You’re always carrying some in your pouch, right?”

“Well, yes. Of course.”

“Then we should make some,” he smiled. “And we can wait out the blizzard while you tell me all about your family.”

“Are you sure you want to hear those stories?” she asked. “There’s a lot of them.”

Jabbing a finger toward the cave entrance, he smiled. “And there’s a lot of time. Besides, who would pass up the opportunity to hear about ‘Crops’ and ‘scarecrows’?”

Yua threw her head back and laughed. A bright, carefree laugh that he knew would never be repeated in front of others. A special treat just for him and Kakashi when no one else could hear her. 

Throughout the years Mifune had experienced many blizzards in the Alibastar Icelands, but none were as memorable as this one. Regardless of whether the blizzard took an hour or an entire day to pass, Mifune could officially chalk this up to the best blizzard he’d ever experienced.

He only hoped that a blizzard wouldn’t be required for him to finally meet his old friend’s husband. 

[twistedroseytoesy]

Types of weather they are

no good reason to make this. Just wanted to share what weather I associate with what twst characters. Started this at like midnight so honestly no idea where this came from.

Heartslabyul

Riddle: he gives the vibes of a distant thunderstorm. The dark grey Floyd’s coming closer with streaks of beautiful light brightening them for a few seconds. Scary, but beautiful form a distance.

trey: a nice spring day. Just after it has rained. The air is fresh and clean, and the flowers are dripping with sweet raindrops and nectar. The bright sunshine through the parting clouds.

cater: a warm summer day with clouds. The brilliant almost burning sunshine with a few large clouds to give relief for moments of fun. Warm and sometimes blinding but worth it.

ace: a windy, sunny day. Some like it, others don’t. Can be annoying when trying to walk against it and the wind likes to knock your hat off at times. Then again it’s wonderful to play in and fly a kite, being carefree as the wind blows your problems away for a bit.

Deuce: summer wind. A type of wind that can carry a sense of adventure, a type of wind that calls you to go out and do something! The type of wind that rolls along beaches in reckless abandon or gently ruffles one’s hair. A type of wind that can become violent and tear out trees, or help cool you down on a blazing day.

Savanaclaw

Leona: a dust devil. A raging pillar of wind and dust, sand or dirt. Usually alone and far from others if there is multiple. Something that can cause damage but usually is in a space where nothing will get hurt. A powerful force of wind, moving in a lazy track along a field or open space. The potential is there it just doesn’t do much usually.

Ruggie: playful spring wind. A type of wind that caries warmth with it. The smell of busy bugs and nature. The type of wind to swirl around buildings, creating swirling spots of trash and dust, sometimes carrying pollen to cover everything in its path. A playful wind that comes and goes as it pleases. Sometimes strong to give a push but usually just passing by.

jack: fall cloud cover. The type that you welcome on those evenings. The smell of winter on the horizon as the cold starts to come in. When the cloud cover comes it’s steady and strong for days, never raining, yet still provides enough light for the days. A blanket of warmth protecting your little spot until it moves on. Gentle and comforting, yet dark and gloomy to those unfamiliar with what it provides.

Octavinelle

Azul: snow flurries. Something so seemingly soft and sweet. Gentle snow and beautiful snowflakes. Easy to walk in and around with. Loved and adored around the holidays. Yet a flurrie can become harsh, with winds suddenly spurring and the soft snow fall now cutting and stinging one’s skin. Having to hide away from the sudden turn and conditions. Same with azul. He’s a gentlemen when respected but once crossed or once you break a contract that’s when things turn for the worst.

jade: blizzard cold and harsh, deadly to those unprepared or stranded in its grasp. Leaving behind a beautiful landscape of snow in its wake. Harsh winds and heavy snow cover everything in sight. Blinding yet necessary for the winter months. Helpful to cover and blanket the world in winter, but dangerous and beautiful. Does it’s own thing and nothing can stop it.

Floyd: a fucking water spout. Can appear near instantly over the turbulent sea. A roaring jet of a tornado over the water, dragging and throwing anything that gets too close. Powerful but rare near the shores. Beautiful in its chaotic nature, but short lived like Floyd’s mood swings.

Scarabia

Kalim: A spring time rainbow. This bundle of joy at NRC glows bright even when things look a bit down. Bringing smiles to others faces is what he thrives for and what better to do that than a rainbow right after it has rained. The sunlight shining off the glittering raindrops and refracting into beautiful colors.

Jamil: gentle fall rain. A type of rain that is hypnotic in how it falls so gently. Dulling the colors of fall for a spell. Lulling you to come out and join the falling water, to splash in the small puddles as the rain gently falls. The cold only seeps in one out of its gentle hold. Suddenly feeling frozen and stiff. Interesting in the moment but be wary of what might happen.

Pomefiore

Vil: moonbow. Not necessarily a type of weather but a beautiful and ethereal type of sky light phenomenon that seemed very fitting for his beauty. A rare glow of a full moon of off just enough water to create a faint rainbow, awing any who are able to see it on those clear nights.

Rook: fall wind. A type of wind that carry’s a chill of winter. That sheds the leaves off of trees as colors change. A wind that treads carefully along the wooded areas, rustling the very leaves it helps fall. A type of wind that follows but never pushes. Observes the world and flows through the forests to tell the tales of the time before it grew colder. Enhancing beauty at times and softly flowing around homes.

Epel: southern rain spurts. Being a southern speakin boy a common southern weather condition seemed fitting. His bursts of anger showering down on those who thought he was cute. Drenching those not prepared for the 5 minutes of buckets he’ll dump on them.

Ignihyde

Idia: heavy morning fog. A type of fog that is heavy, dulling the senses and enhancing fear and anxiety’s. A fog that makes one feel heavy and lethargic. It’s easier to stay inside when you can’t even see the world past 5 feet in-front of you.

ortho: winter sunshine. A bright and bubbly kind soul among the cold atmosphere of NRC. Blinding at times when one isn’t prepared for the glare off of the snow. But the glittering of the snow and the rays that shine through the snowy treetops. Makes one smile and want to watch the cold outside from the safety inside. Maybe go sledding with friends as the sun shines it’s dazzling cool rays on the frozen earth.

Diasomnia

Malleus: day lightening. A very rare and dangerous phenomenon. Yet when one is able to see it, it is beyond awe inspiring. The flash of light from seemingly nowhere is magical and bright. Making many afraid of its power. But to those who don’t fear it, will find so much beauty in how brightly it will shine despite the sun out and making other lights seem lesser. Even if it’s just once, it’s still enough to dazzle any.

lilia: a light lightening storm at night. Beautiful and bizarre. Flashing lightning across the pitch sky. The rain falling gently to a melody of the world and lightning casting crazy shadow that can scare or fascinate. For those who are up they can enjoy the storm from a roofed gazebo, feeling the ancient calm of a storm from a safe space.

silver: aurora borealis. Had to do it. This phenomenon happens often in the poles of the world. Only seen when the nights are open and cold. Beautiful swirling colors like that of a dream. Lulling you, caking you to join them in blissful floating among the sky. To dream of their vibrant colors and to swim in them in the sky of your dreams. A calming sky light for a calming and sleepy man.

Sebek: summer thunder storm. All bark not much bite. You’ll see streaks of light and hear the thunder but no lightning will show itself out of the clouds. Very loud but interesting weather.

Staff

Crowley: tornado. This man is a complete disaster waiting to happen. Causing chaos in his wake and laving others to pick up the mess. Very few times he actually is helpful to those he demands asks graciously for assistance. Causes havoc and mayhem at the best of times. Looks cool at least.

Crewel: light morning fog. A type of fog that seemed so heavy and thick it will never go away. But with patience and time it will evaporate to reveal a few covered wonderland. Gentle droplets covering every surface causing a crystal like shine from everything on those beautiful mornings. With patience and obedience, you can do great things and he knows that many have that potential. He rewards and punishes as he sees fit.

Trein: summer cloud cover. Biggest kill joy to any summer day. It can be nice to not be roasted by the sun. But for many the cloud cover threatens rain and ruins many outdoor plans of fun.

Vargas: wind storm. Strong gusts pushing one around, pushing those going with it to go faster and pulling those who go against it. A strong and dangerous weather type for a strong yet unstable dangerous coach. Pushing those in his class to just keep going no matter what.

Sam: night rain. Dark puddles of unknown depth, covered lights that require protection against the creeping darkness and limited sight. A rain that can be comforting or hostile. Kind or mean, a type of rain that can pick anyone up, wash away their cares for a moment. Gentle and alluring, but be wary of what the rain will bring.

Grim: fire tornado/ fire devil. Arson cat. Only happens when there is already a fire. He just makes situations worse most of the time. Causes chaos and is dangerous in most cases. Better hope you’ve got some good fire fighters/ yuu to calm him down.

[salenakingston]

“White” Christmas

It might be the new year, but it’s never too late to receive a gift! Hey @viotti-violet you’re my second giftee. It seems your gift was lost in transit so another has been sent in its place. I apologize for it being late, but I hope it was worth the wait! I heard your call for some Vithur, Lewvithur, baking, and cuddles with blankets. Let’s go the whole nine yards shall we? I hope you like it!!

Winter was in full swing, snow fluttering down from the heavens. Earthen colors were replaced with a blanket of pure white, growing thicker with each passing second. A strange contrast to the way the weather usually was around these parts, though not entirely unwelcome.

An orange glow emitted from the windows of a nearby home, nestled in between two others on a strip of road. Night hadn’t yet climbed into the sky, blue still stretching as far as the eye could see, and yet orange mixed along the sills, not that one might notice right away. The once pristine blanket disturbed by the up kick of feet, footprints accompanying the thinner patches of snow along the walkway. Three girls were bundled up, flakes decorating their jackets.

A pair of soft gazes fell on them before they continued to the door, giving a knock. The door opened, Mrs. Pepper’s usual stoic look cracking a smile, “Vivi. Arthur. Glad you could make it. Please, come in.”

A smile formed on both their faces, passing Mr. Pepper. The man was just as bundled up as their daughters, likely either coming to join them in their play, or to watch them while the other stayed inside. With how much energy the children have, it might be a while before any of them were content enough to come back inside.

That’s fine though. The core trio had plans.

The orange glow came from the same source of a gentle crackle sound. A fire danced with life, a hint of smoke filtering into the whole space. Pine and spice in with the scents, the Pepper family going the extra mile when it came to their decorations. It made sense, they ran a restaurant after all. It was in the spirit of the season to assume it was just as decorated. In the more private setting of their own home, they weren’t always burdened by their son’s secrets. Better safe than sorry. A tree stood not too far from the fireplace, lights left off until later in the day, though ornaments made it pop for the time being. Lines of lights and garland were placed with care along the walls, a few knick knacks set up on their wooden furniture.

The smell of spice came lingering from the kitchen, a gentle hum following along right behind it.

Vivi and Arthur both shed their winter coats, the latter of the two probably not needing it as much as the former. The three of them thought it a cute idea to dress up for their get together… well… perhaps ‘dress up’ was a bit incorrect. Lewis was probably the only one with the dramatic flare to pull off anything like that, especially if it were for his sisters.

So something simple.

The concept of an ‘ugly’ sweater seemed subjective depending on who you asked. For someone that wore one just about every day, and one of just one color at that, she was much more picky about the one she picked out to wear. Or perhaps it was simply something that fell under ‘dressing to impress’ in a much more casual light. The color scheme was still the same, though traded out her usual light blue for something darker. White snowflakes ran all around the garment, rows upon rows of them.

Fitting for her.

Arthur’s wasn’t too different from her own, though clearly not as picky about his own. There was only one requirement when it came to his own… technically two if you counted something to match his golden scheme. He wasn’t complete without it. No, the core detail required for his own was some kind of pun. The man was infamous for them, so it was just something that fit him better than some complex design.

Coats hung and stray fibers brushed out lead them to join Lewis in the kitchen, guided by the humming heard earlier. As to be expected, he was adorned in his own sweater, deep purple with some traces of black along the borders. Hardly proper Christmas colors, but then again the same could be said for Arthur’s. There were snowflakes along his own too, but mixed in the monotone pattern were skulls and ghosts.

His golden heart jumped at the sight of them, his ‘human’ form being the one to greet them. Were it not for the black sclera, it would be almost as if nothing ever happened.

His smile was warmer than the fire not a room away, “Vivi! Artie! Glad you both made it safely.”

“‘Course we did, big guy. That van can tough through just about anything.” There was some truth to that, given that even when being chased and crashing into the side of a building… well it could have ended up a lot worse. That van was one of, if not the, man’s pride and joy.

“Right. Still with all the ice and snow, one can never be too sure.”

“Yeah I got you. But seriously, no need to worry. I’m being careful.”

“Didn’t doubt you for a second, Artie.” Ironic coming from him.

Vivi jumped in now, “Yeah yeah, we’re safe you dork. Are we all ready to get started?”

Lewis’ eyes brightened, his arms moving out to encompass the counters in front of him. An assortment of ingredients, food dyes, and decorative tools. Anything they could have wanted for baking, he had, not that it was that much of a surprise. Upon seeing stars in their own eyes, Lewis placed a palm over a recipe book. He prepared everything. Vivi was the first to flip the book open, looking through different cookies while Lewis passed over a box to Arthur, who took it with a confused look on his face.

Work gloves?

“For your left hand. Figured you wouldn’t want to get anything in the… spaces.”

Arthur gave a light chuckle at his choice of words before taking one, carefully slipping it over the metal hand, “Thanks Lewis.”

From there, the three of them broke off, having selected a recipe each to work on. At least that was how it started… First it was just a flurry of flour releasing into the air as it fell from measuring cup to bowl. A sneeze echoed through the kitchen, both men quick to ‘bless her’. She readily gave them both thanks, glancing down at the white streak along her sweater. The bluenette peered at it longer than she should have, a mischievous grin curling wider and wider along her face.

As she grabbed the next scoop of flour, her hand reached further than it needed to, powder, white lining her hand, not that either of her boys would be able to tell with how pale she already was. Her gaze trailed over to the closest person to her, making Arthur her target. He had already finished his dough, carefully shaping his cookies before they were to go into the oven. Her hands moved up, catching his shoulders as she latched on.

A surprised gasp escaped from the blond, his head spinning to look over his shoulder, “Vivi?!”

“Those look so good Artie.”

“O-Oh… Thanks Vivi.”

“No problem. Keep up the good work!”

Arthur watched her walk away, warmth filling his chest… and maybe a bit on his face… letting a smile form on his face. It was nice to let the more genuine smiles out rather than the false ones. He watched her all the way up until she got back to her side of the counter, going back to his work. Cooking… wasn’t exactly his forte. The other two were much better than him, so it only made sense he went with something simple for his choice.

Upon finishing his tray, he joined Lewis at the oven, no surprise his’ was already baking. Looks like he was going to have to wait another round. Purple eyes peered over to his friend, eyebrow raising as he caught the sight of something, “Hey Artie?”

“Yeah Lewis?”

“Why is there a white handprint on your shoulder?”

“White hand-” That snapped him into motion real quick, hands moving up to twist the back of his sweater more into view. Sure enough, there on his shoulder was a smudged, white handprint. There was only one person who could have done that. The blond’s eyes met with Vivi, who despite realizing she had been caught, held a sly grin with her tongue sticking out at him. That heat along his cheeks came back, “Vivi!”

Her reply was simply letting her tongue stick out more.

Before he could think much on what he was doing, Arthur’s ‘noodle’ legs and long strides carried him back over to the counter, finding his own hands dipping in the flour. The bluenette began to back away from Arthur, his own assault of powdery ingredient pointed in her direction. Both of them took turns patterning each other with flour… all the while Lewis stood there watching.

Some part of him couldn’t help but smile and shake his head at their antics… but the other part of him, the professional side of him, was threatening to boil over.

It wasn’t until Mrs. Pepper poked her head in, noting the change in color that her sharp gaze focused on the two offenders. Both of them met her gaze, each raising a hand to point at the other for the blame. That gesture alone caused another shake of Lewis’ head, though a light-hearted one rather than one of disappointment.

Of course they had to clean up their mess, and of course the two troublemakers were the ones taking care of it while Lewis finished the actual baking. They’d be returning to that task once it was time to decorate. Seeing as the cookies would take time to cool before some of them could be done, it was Lewis’ suggestion they took a small break.

The ghost lingered behind for a few moments, Arthur and Vivi enjoying one another’s laughter at their ‘flour war’. Vivi pulled him down in front of the crackling fire, heat pressing against their fronts as they were embraced in the same orange glow from the windows. The bluenette found her head leaning onto Arthur’s shoulder, watching the embers dance in front of them.

The spell was broken by a ‘clink’ sound, mugs resting on coasters along the coffee table resting near them. A couple blankets found their way wrapped around their bodies, Vivi and Arthur leaning back against Lewis once he sat down behind them. A content sigh escaped from them collectively, the scent of chocolate filtering in from the mugs.

They could enjoy those soon…

For now…

It was nice to just share in the comfort of one another.

[ephemeronidwrites]

Shout out to @the-cryptographer, because they asked for one of the prompts in my OC tag game, and while I find the prompt they chose to be extremely tasty and I am going to spend at least the next week alternately going feral with excitement and getting insufferably nitpicky about getting some irrelevant detail absolutely perfect... I also don't want to leave them completely hanging for as long as I am going to take to write what they actually asked for.

So in the meantime, here's one of the prompts I've already been working on from that list... completely unprompted.

Does that defeat the purpose of a prompt exercise? Mmmm probably. Do I care?

4: A letter from your OC to their love interest

A letter intercepted from an anonymous courier met during the second week of Haring, 9:40 Dragon, in a border town between Orlais and Nevarra.

Darling,

I thought I was going to pass the time on this journey writing down every filthy thing I wanted to do to you. And then touching myself about it. Then writing down everything I did to myself, then thinking about you doing the same things to me and touching myself about it all over again. Then sending you everything I wrote down in a big fat bundle.

If I work at it hard enough, I might even manage to get the pages so sticky I won’t need wax to seal them up.

Especially since the “Inquisition” is everywhere these days, so I put the chance of one of their agents intercepting this letter at about 4 to 6? Don’t get me wrong, this letter is meant strictly for your lovely eyes only, but I admit I do also get a kick at the thought of this letter making its way into the hands of some “innocent” Chantry Sister. Maybe I can scorch out her eyes with the sinful acts depicted therein. Or even better, spice up her dreams so hard that she’ll have to pray until her knees are skinned raw to make up for it.

But now I must do a bit of confessing of my own, and say that since we’ve been apart, I simply haven’t been interested in any of that. Both my daydreams and night fantasies of you have been scandalously chaste, things like snuggling in the same bedroll at night, or waking to your sleeping face, maybe getting to poke your nose before you wake up.

Are you surprised? I am, but somehow I think you wouldn't be.

Our old friend would surely be offended by this sort of… “base sentimentality”, I think she used to call it? She’d probably keelhaul us first, before moving onto the penance. I imagine ropes being involved. Or hot wax. I don’t know. When it came to the finer points of what counts for proper debauchery, I was never really the authority in our little group anyway.

But since she isn’t here… I’ll indulge this sappy nonsense all I like. After all, less time spent on fingernail grooming is more time left to fantasize, right?

Besides, something tells me it’s this sort of thing that the Chantry would take greater offense to. The idea that mages might actually be people, with feelings. People-feelings, the sorts of feelings that don’t involve cackling and people going off the rails and firestorms raging everywhere.

After all, you know better than anyone else how afraid I was that I was that your our little stunt at the Kirkwall chantry building might have made that particular misconception worse. So you might feel vindicated to know that, after all these last few years, all I’ve learned from being reluctantly dragged all over Thedas is that… I might have been giving you far, far much too much credit on that count.

And it’s not as if people need encouragement or teaching to know how to fear, or hate, or blindly follow. Funny how most people would sooner part with a literal arm or a leg—or march off to war, which is functionally pretty much the same thing—than they’d let go of an idea that’s outlived its usefulness. It’s mildly depressing, but what can a mage do, other than go on fighting the good fight?

Or I guess it’s pretty presumptuous to call any part of it “good”. There’s been nothing “good” or “pretty” about… a lot of the stuff we’ve lived through, hasn’t there Shit there I go again I can’t sleep or eat without you there when I stretch out my hand or when I turn my head to look at you, and I’m terrified I’ll never NO NO that’s no good F why am I like this

Maybe I’ll write instead that I want to hold you close and sniff your hair! It’s not a lie, and I’m sure someone out there can find a way to twist that into something perverse and immoral? I believe in them! I believe that creativity isn’t dead in Thedas!

Either way, since I’m not there to do it for you, kiss yourself for me, with or without any filthy thoughts in your head. (And make sure to eat something at least twice a day, be nice to Justice, Justice go easy on him… basically pretend I’m actually there to nag you so you won’t forget to do all these things. Promise me you will do that.)

Sealed with a kiss of my own (since I know you won’t listen to me, darling, you never do),

Your little mistake.

In addition to the letter, the envelope contained three gold coins and also had attached a missive—written in the same hand—ostensibly meant for the courier's eyes:

Your life and freedom are more important than this letter. If you fall into a sticky spot, do not hesitate to put your own security first. The letter is important, but disposable. I repeat, do not allow yourself to be captured.

Reconnaissance efforts to identify the courier or find any other information about their objective or destination proved fruitless. The money was added to the appropriations funds for Inquisition soldier requisitions.

[gravyffxiv]

FFXIVWrite - Prompt 6: Onerous

The door hit the floor with a loud thud, lifting up a cloud of dirt that was soon swept away by the chilling winds of Ishgard. Over the door, a groaning Duskwight reflected upon her choices. She had been aware the key would not have worked, not after so long, and expected to break the old lock with a strong push. She was quite surprised when the hinges flew off, and the entire wooden piece came crashing down, with her now on top of it.

The beeping and buzzing that sounded from above her indicated the presence of her Allagan node, whom she named ‘GeeBee’. It had been a joke after a former co-worked had called it ‘Gravy’s baby’, and the Duskwight just decided to go with it. She considered it much better than Unit a3n/78f-06.

“I’m okay,” she said as she slowly pushed herself up, patting the spherical automaton as if thanking him (she saw the mechanical assistant as a boy for no discernible reason) for unspoken words of concern. The node beeped in acknowledgement, then stood silent for a few seconds as he scanned the room, something Gravy did as well, albeit far less thoroughly, lacking the mechanical advantages of the ancient machina.

“May this unit—” the look that Gravy shot him was all that took for GeeBee to start his sentence again. “May I ask what we are doing here?” His voice was remarkably organic, one would say, with only a hint of a metallic tone to it.

It took a few seconds for the engineer to reply, her gaze wandering around the place. Dust had settled in quite comfortably, as if taking shelter from the brutal cold of Coerthas. Around the room, a veritable mess of discarded tools, parts and metal ore lay about, alongside a few chairs, a table, and a workstation that would likely crumble to fine powder with the gentlest touch. “We’re gonna clean this place. I mean… I am gonna clean this place. You just float about and wait.”

“What for?” the node inquired, slowly moving around the room, approaching a corner where a large tarp covered something bulky.

“This is my old workshop. I bought it back when I was working with Skysteel, and it already looked this bad, what, six years ago. I’ve got something I wanna do, and I think it’s just right that I do it here.”

“Here,” GeeBee echoed.

“Yes.”

“In Ishgard.”

“Yes.”

“Considering the impressive amount of audio evidence stored in my memory banks, I can state without a doubt that you despise Ishgard.”

“Yes.”

If it were possible for an expressionless sphere of metal and shiny parts look baffled, that was exactly what was going on with the node. “Why?”

“You’ll see,” Gravy waved any further questions away, covering her mouth with her scarf before bending down to grab a hammer from the floor. “Play something for me, would ya? That song I had you record at that goblin metal concert… ‘Gobbysong of Thingbreaking’ I think it was called. Play that, alright?”

***

Several hours later, Gravy decided she was done. GeeBee had acquired a slew of new curse words to store in his memory banks, while the Duskwight had acquired new degrees of back pain. The workshop, however, looked remarkably cleaner than before, despite its obvious run-down state.

“Back when I was learning the Skysteel way,” Gravy started explaning, moving towards the tarp that still hid its content, “I got inspired to try something I had never done in that scale. It didn’t really work… something was missing from it. Something that would make a huge difference. Or maybe… someone.”

She pulled the tarp off the mysterious bundle like a stage magician performing a trick at a child’s nameday. If it had any effect on impressing GeeBee or not, Gravy would never know, as the node’s only reaction was to move closer to what was now revealed. Resting on one knee, its back bent slightly forward, fists on the ground, the humanoid figure seemed to be in silent obeisance. Reaching out, Gravy gently rested her hand on the figure’s head, the tarp having prevented any dust to settle there. There was an obvious tenderness to Gravy’s gesture, a sign of care that GeeBee had seen before, usually aimed at him.

“I didn’t want a simple warmachina,” Gravy continued, before the node could ask any further question, “Didn’t want a walking piece of artillery that looked vaguely like a person. I… wanted a friend, I guess. Someone easier to understand than most people. But I didn’t have any way to make it like that, ya know? To make it think for itself. I… needed something more advanced for that.”

GeeBee did not take long to understand. When that single crimson eye settled back on him, the node felt oddly self-conscious, which was not a sub-routine he had been programmed for. He felt curious too, attempting to picture what sort of action would be necessary to achieve that particular endeavor.

As if she had been reading his mind, Gravy answered. “It’s gonna be really hard, but I’ve got some Allagan schematics for connecting processing cores to different kinds of chassis. I can do that to yours. If it fails, you’ll just remain a node. If it works, though… well, you’ll be whatever you want.”

For several seconds, there was only silence, and Gravy thought her pitch had failed. She soon smiled, however, when she saw what GeeBee had done. The way he moved his spherical body as if it was a head, in lieu of simply saying yes. GeeBee had nodded.

[lokbobpop]

Back to basis

After today’s recording where joe explains his moment of change and i reflected on my moments of change how subtle but life changing they are how you just cant go back to them, like the point i walked with my other half, i had blame and lots of it, when i walked it and moved on, i just cant go back to the way i was, it would take so much energy to be like that to live that way now, and its hard to believe i was even like that now, and yes blame has gone its lifted, it was real time change many years ago now that turned my head round 180 as it were. All that energy it took to be like that was so much when i see my self then, to be bothered with being frustrated with my bundle of blame, and how i look at the points Im living right now and why am i not just dropping them why is it hard ti just saw ok I’m I’ve that now I’m living this now lol

So what i see today is that how import i have to be here in every moment for these changes to happen i have to be with myself full on standing, when i feel energy stop look at it. But what I’m dealing with right now is comparison I’m so over having to be like this I’ve got to the point that this point has been lingering for decades and I’ve been walking it for at least 3 years id say !!!! Holy crap 3 years how can i do that to myself for all those years ?? Lol Ive now come to the point of stand stand stand self love the chosen word for myself to deal with this.

Im thinking my thyroid problem has to do with my comparison keeping me from functioning properly because my desire to be better than all others runs so deep I’m dysfunctional so my like my thyroid not working properly doing the best i can do. All because just cant see the best in myself without comparing it to another, no seeing me as whole as one. So how can i further help myself with this insane desire to be better than other by going into self doubt to self ego in the matter of a split second how can i turn these thoughts into functions that will support me to live myself without this want need and desire?

Step off the merry go round step off this so called wheel of life clean up with scrappy bits left over that I’ve decided to keep around just in case i need them, yes that what Ive been doing, so i can look at something different to overcome a change of scenery lol as it were I’ve out lived this one its fucking annoying lol i saw a post of a school friend today and i was jealous that she might be happier than myself with her life and all her photos this thing is so wide spread I’m going to have to be very vigilant and question a good proportion of my daily thoughts i see to really get on tops of this but at the end of the day thats all they are just thoughts they are not really me no i just created them made them real and so believe them to be me. Such a shame i took it so far and ingrained it within myself.

Plan to see realize and un stand to move this point i have to be persistent i have to be stable calm and stop in every moment for real time change, i have to see what they are really showing me about myself i have to live my self love embrace them about me. I have to be real because my dislike for all when it comes to my comparison for me to see myself as better has to end i have to move on let go embrace this about me and see realize and understand that I’m changing and this is an important part of the whole of my change. It has many angles and comes in many angles as thoughts i see it not just one thing compare theres a story of wanting people to see me as amazing so i can to believe that I’m am so i can bring the thoughts of this why i can think the way i do because i am, i also need to live the words humble i see so this is my word for today humble.

Humble hum able bumblebee to be humble

To love myself

To stand as self with pride and stability

[sagaofstardustmkg]

The Black Gate Opens | CH5 ???

An otherwise ordinary afternoon brings a rather odd scene out on the cricket pitch-- well, maybe not as odd as a regular game of wizard cricket. A large circle has been carved into the grass, its sides lined with runes and small bundles of herbs and candles set at each cardinal direction, giving off a pleasant smell. In the middle of it sits a shining, clear crystal prism, apparently inert. And around it stand seven individuals-- Baku, Ben, Caleb, Bo, Mari, Amon, and the ghostly Nobuhiko. At first glance it bears an unfortunate resemblance to the murder scene everyone had just dealt with, but it serves a hopefully far better purpose. 

A few of them are busy comparing the runes inscribed around the circle to several sheets of paper and books they've brought with them, apparently checking them for completeness before they do whatever they plan to. Baku stands at the top of the circle and watches, her hands wringing together frantically in a way that belies her anxiety. No matter how reassured she was about the soundness of their plan, and no matter how much testing they'd done (involving an unfortunate experiment conducted on Long Pengi...) she still can't shake the thought that something is going to go horribly wrong. And with most of the people she cares about most gathered here, the destruction she could cause was immense. She could ruin every nice thing she'd found here irreparably. The blood on her hands could spread and spread until it consumed every part of her and every part of everyone else, too--

But. Everyone had assured her that the logic behind their plan was sound. And so Baku tries her best to let her trust in her friends overcome her anxiety, just this once. 

"I-If it... if it goes wrong... y-you all have to run away... a-as fast as you can..." She mumbles into her hair, for what must be the tenth time since they started setting things up.

Ben places his hands on her shoulders, rubbing small circles with his thumbs as he leans down to speak gently to her, “It will all be fine, mate. We’ve tested this whole thing a sufficient amount. Nothing will go wrong, promise.” It’s a promise he can’t really make for sure, but the confidence he says it with beggars no argument.

Bo and Caleb have been carefully walking around the circle once, twice, three times with the group's meticulously compiled notes in hand. Every so often Bo will pause to point at a specific rune or line in the circle, and then look up to Caleb for confirmation. The older man sometimes nods in agreement or occasionally crouches down to make an adjustment so that Bo doesn't need to touch it himself, but after several uneventful rounds of scrutiny all of the final tweaks have been made. There's nothing left to fix.

Bo looks towards the others with a small nod, and then to Baku. It's her call, after all.

With the checks on the circle complete, Baku looks up, nails digging into her hands. She freezes for a second, and then takes a deep, shaking breath. "O-Okay... let's, let's... let's do it."

Nobuhiko nods calmly, as if he’s reassuring a patient. He holds out one hand for someone to pass him his focus, a stethoscope. Once he has that, he places it around his neck, and puts a hand on either of Baku’s shoulders. 

“This won’t hurt, I promise.”

And true to his word, it doesn’t. His hands glow a soft pink color, as do the parts of Baku’s body that he’s touching. His eyes begin glowing to match that. He maintains contact and doesn’t break his gaze from Baku for a good fifteen, twenty, thirty seconds, and then suddenly he lets go, taking a few steps back. 

“It’s loose! Get ready!”

For the first time since she inherited the curse, the black smog that accompanies the transformation doesn't consume Baku-- instead, it appears to be almost siphoned away from her, coiling into the center of the circle drawn in the grass. And for the first time, Baku watches what everyone else is now seeing a second time-- the coagulation of the evil magic into a massive, quadrupedal being covered in scales and feathers. The darkness seems to drip from it, like it's having a difficult time solidifying without a vessel to transform from, as it rises to its full height. A familiar pair of narrow red eyes open, and the mouth spreads wide, showing its awful teeth. It sees those it had attacked before, and it sees its loathed vessel, separate from it for the first time. The demon opens its mouth and screams at them all, lowering into a crouch like it's preparing to pounce. Baku gasps in terror, stepping back away from it, but before it can even try--

A small cacophony of gentle squeaking can be heard from above, which is a bit of an unusual place to hear squeaking. Looking up quickly explains the source: a host of Caleb’s signature familiars, inky black-blue in color, a bit larger than normal and sporting wings. They’re working together to carry a few buckets… All of which are tipped over from a close distance that wouldn’t be safe for anything sentient.

The goop falls from the sky and lands squarely atop the demon, dousing it thoroughly. It makes an almost comically disgruntled noise as it recoils and tries to shake it off, but the second part of their plan is already in motion. The goop, helpfully borrowed from Benedict, begins to work its magic. There's a poof of smoke large enough to consume the demon's entire form, and when it clears, in its place stands...

Something far less intimidating.

The little eggdog, clearly confused as to why everyone is now much taller than it, growls and starts bouncing towards them, clearly still intent on attacking. It doesn't get far, though, not that its attack would have been very effective in this state to begin with. It's like an invisible wall stops it from exiting the circle, and it bounces off like a rubber ball, falling on its back with its little legs wiggling in the air. Some furious little eggdog noises ensue... but it seems the evil is contained. 

The celebration at the success of the eggdogging is short-lived, though-- and not for a reason any of them could have predicted. As the group looks between each other in relief, a shadow is cast over their heads, moving across the cricket field at a rapid pace. They crane to look overhead to try to catch whatever it is, but it's too late. A large, very strange-looking bird swoops from the sky. 

Before any of them can do anything, it lands in the magic circle and opens its beak, swallowing the demonic eggdog. Like a pelican swallowing a fish, it tosses its head back a few times. A shudder wracks it, some of the black smog oozing out of its mouth as it seems to cough. Its eyes close briefly, and then open... are they tinted red? 

Then it turns to regard the group staring at it in shock with the energy of something that just unexpectedly came into a massive amount of power. Uh oh.

[worldwidesitespeed]

Steam crash bandicoot n sane trilogy pc cortex power crash

The go-to source for comic book and superhero movie fans. Coloured gems work a little differently in Crash Bandicoot 2, but they're no … If you're a fan of gaming, wrestling, and soccer, give him a follow on Twitter However, collecting Gems will allow you to get a different ending to the story, the true ending. The original three Crash games were remastered and bundled together as the N. Road To Ruin is a secret warp room level in Crash Bandicoot 2: Cortex Strikes Back. To reach … There were times when I thought it wasn't worth it. This level once again sees Biker Crashracing on a motorbike across 1950s-era highway somewhere in the glamorous Southwest America, late at night. Fun Fact: This was an unintended bug in the original version of Crash Bandicoot 2 which has been left in by the developers.

1 secret portal (unlocks Hot Coco hidden level). I pressed on on, day after day until I reached the end. My completionist brain got the best of me, though. It’s difficult, but there are no tricks … Valuable information - If you have trouble with performing precise jumps and other moves with the left analog stick, try using d-pad.The stick has a very large "dead zone" and some moves might not be correctly recorded when the stick is moved too lightly. Music to the 2nd skull route in the the game, Road To Ruin. Below you can find a listing of controls for each title that is a part of Crash Bandicoot N. Save a character: Crash Bandicoot 1-3 levels. Road to Ruin Out: Orange Asphalt Lights Out Hot Coco Ski Crazed Stormy Ascent The Great Gate The Lab Gee Wiz Hog Ride Cold Hard Crash Slippery Climb’s challenge comes in its moving platforms, but what makes it so odd compared to others is that this is… Road to Ruin Boulder Dash Upstream Dino Might! Deep Trouble High Time Road Crash Double Header Sphynxinator Bye Bye Blimps Tell No Tales Future Frenzy Tomb Wader Gone Tomorrow Orange Asphalt Flaming Passion Mad Bombers Bug Lite Ski Crazed Area 51? Th… The days wasted. Road Crash Spaced Out Bone Yard Ruination Crash Dash Flaming Passion Jaws of Darkness Totally Fly Whole Hog. Sane Trilogy.The room contains five portals, accessible in any order. This chapter is dedicated to the Alpine Warp Room, one of the warp rooms found in Crash Bandicoot 2: Cortex Strikes Back as seen in Crash Bandicoot N. Crash must win the race in order to get the level's crystal.

Here is a video guide of myself doing it. Diggin' It also contains a hidden portal to the Sixth Warp Room, where the portal for a section of Road to Ruin will be unlocked. In Crash Bandicoot 2, you can collect Gems alongside of the Crystals you find to complete the game. A level in which Crash is tasked with making it from one end of a rickety bridge to the other. However, collecting Gems will allow you to get a … NEXT: Xbox Admits Series X Shortages Could Go On For Months. Warning - It is better to unlock Hot Coco hidden level during your second playthrough after destroying all crates and getting a Purple Gem.The level is unlocked by hitting one of road signs and more information about that can be found in the page with the walkthrough for that … Nowadays, he splits his time between his PS4 and his Switch and spends far too much time playing Fortnite.

[chubbybuckydumpling]

Of Riches and Rings

words: 2.9k

pairing: Helmut Zemo x female reader

warnings: smut, fluffy smut, voyeurism, masturbation (m/f), oral (m/f receiving), blowjob, 69, choking, squirting, unprotected sex, porn without plot

A/n: As a celebration for reaching 500 followers, please enjoy this filthy Zemo smut :) Let’s hope the next episode still makes him likeable! Dividers by @firefly-graphics

My Masterlist

The clock is ticking with every passing second. Tik tok. Tik tok. His fingers tap on the crystal glass of expensive bourbon. The plushy armchair gives into his weight, forming nicely around his back. He checks his jeweled watch. It’s been 10 minutes. You’re taking too long. Tik tok. Tik tok.

He turns his head to gaze around the room, searching for a distraction, but he can’t get you off his mind. Inevitably, his gaze falls to his hand where an elegant ring dresses his finger. A soft smile plays on his lips, but it makes him yearn for your presence even more. Taking a deep breath, his eyes drift back to the clock on the wall. Tik tok. The seconds are passing. Tik tok. His patience is wearing thin, this is not what he had planned. An annoyed growl escapes his lips which surprises him. His self control is definitely slipping. Tik tok. Another minute gone by. Tik tok, tik tok.

“Alright, enough”, he grumbles, getting out of his chair. His tight black slacks cling to his legs, the dress shoes rounding out the look. He places his glass on the nearest shelf, the sound of his heels swallowed by the carpet. The dimly lit hallway carries him from door to door until he closes in on the bathroom. It has a kitschy postcard attached to it.

He can’t help but scoff, “Wash away your troubles? Really?” Reaching up, he is about to rip it off when he hears a sound. A low moan, to be particular. He stills completely, doubtful of what he heard just seconds ago. Just when he’s about to write it off as some weird hallucination, it happens again. His eyebrows raise, a smirk working its way on his lips.

Oh.

This is going to be fun. Carefully, he reaches out to turn the door knob until he can safely open it, just a gap, of course. He chuckles to himself, of course you didn’t lock it, little minx. Turning to peek in, he has to bite his lip to stop a groan. There you were, propped on the bathroom counter, panties discarded by your feet, fingers plunging into your pussy.

The squelching sounds mixed with your soft moans and frustrated whimpers makes his trousers tighten. He feels himself twitch, the sight of you, head thrown back in pleasure and eyes shut tightly. The amount of want that floods through his body makes him undo his fly, the tight material only falling down a little.

One of his hands wanders down his dark turtleneck and he reaches into his grey briefs to take out his half hard cock. He licks the thumb of his free hand, working his tongue around it to get it nice and wet. Once he is content with his work, he pulls down his foreskin and presses the shiny digit against the head, circling his slit. His hips thrust forwards and he has to grab onto the door frame. Shit.

He feels his cock fatten up, twitching in his hand while he slowly fists himself. His eyes are trained on your fingers, the way your core grabs onto them. He builds up a steady rhythm of squeezing his length and playing with his crown, teasing his sensitive head. It’s hard to quiet his sounds, but he’s used to controlling himself, reducing his urges to achieve his goals.

You, however, feel no need to be quiet. Your fingers don’t reach far enough and frustration, greedy want overcomes your senses. You groan, hips rutting against your palm. The pressure against your clit feels good, but it’s just not enough. Your free hand frees your boobs from the bra cups and you begin to squeeze your nipple, whining at the pleasurable pain.

He speeds up his motions, tightens his grip and lets his body take over. Your breasts are beautiful, the tight nipples hard against the cooler air. He feels his desire overcoming him, carnal want filling his veins. His balls tighten, abdomen contracting irretically. He feels himself twitch in his hand. The silky skin of his hard cock feels nice against his hand and he lets out a growl, little droplets of sweat forming on his forehead. The fabric begins to cling to his back.

“I hope you’re not planning on coming anywhere else but inside me”, your voice sounds strained, eyes trained on his thick length. The delicious view makes you lick your lip. He just grins, not surprised by your actions at all, “Wasn’t planning on it, sweet girl”, he replies, a soft smile on his lips. He collects all of his self control to tuck himself back, before he fully opens the door, moving closer to you.

He closes in on you, arms placed on the counter on either side of you. You pull out your drenched fingers to pull him closer, but he is faster, catching your wrist before you could touch him. Smirking, he draws your hand closer and envelops your coated digits with his mouth. He moans at your taste, tongue licking of every bit of your wetness.

You whimper, the sensation around your fingers with the knowledge of what exactly he is licking off makes your belly tighten. His gaze is still trained on you as he slowly pops your fingers out. His chest is heaving with his deep breath. He looks amazing, delicious even. You can't stop yourself for any longer and dash forward to press your lips against his.

The kiss is hungry, greedy. Your desire mixes with his while your tongues dance together. He licks into you, one hand coming up to clutch the back of your neck, pulling you even closer. A deep growl vibrates in his chest, everything about you is just so good. Your taste, the way your scent seeps into his nose, the feel of your tongue against his.

A feeling of desperation seeps into your body and you let your hands wander to the hem of his shirt. You let yourself explore his upper body, feeling his soft skin against your hands, all while he dominates your mouth. When the oxygen runs low, you part, immediately pulling the dark turtleneck over his head. He helps you remove it and chucks the expensive article behind him.

Instantly, his swollen lips are back against yours, more sensitive this time. He bites into your lower lip, dragging it a little before he lets it snap back. Aroused, he allows his hands to grip your waist with one hand while the other strokes over you, caressing your skin until he finds your breasts. He manages to rid you of your bra, your boobs falling free of the constricting material.

“You are so beautiful, mein Engel”, he whispers. You’re completely exposed in front of him while he is still half covered, what you desire most remaining hidden. Warmth rises to your cheeks, yet you don’t feel embarrassed. He’s shown you time and time again how much he desires you.

“What took you so long?”, the question falls from your lip and you can’t help but smirk mischievously at him. He pulls back a little, eyebrows raised, yet he can’t hide the smile on his lips. Not in front of you, “Well, Mrs. Zemo, I wasn’t expecting your toilet break to turn into this”, he gestures to your lower body, “Not that I’m complaining”

You giggle, grabbing his neck to pull him in for another kiss. He feels so good against you, his tight chest against your own breasts. His warmth seeps into you, blanketing you into a calming sense of comfort. He lets his arms surround you, pulling your body closer to his, directly onto his huge bulge. You gasp into his mouth, a strong tingling sensation running through your core. He groans at the pressure, pushing you right on him again.

“Fuck, Helmut”, you whimper, burying your head into his neck, “Please, I need you” He tightens his grip, growling at your words, “Then hold tight. Can’t just fuck my most precious on a sink now can I Engel”

He picks you up, holding you close. His arms strain a little, but you know he would never drop you. Navigating through the hallway he quickly moves towards your bedroom, opening the door with ease. His display of strength makes you clench and your want for him surges even higher. He lays you down on the king sized better, leaving you with a kiss to your nose.

“Beautiful”, he mumbles after taking a step back to observe you. With quick and precise motions, he strips himself of the rest of his clothing. His fully erect cock jumps up to stand tall and proud. You lick your lips with desire, the sight of your husband just always so arousing. Before you can mention how attractive he is, he drops down to his knees, hands parting your thighs.

“Look at you, so wet for me”, he drawls, eyes switching from focusing on your pussy to searching your face. Slowly, he lowers himself, his hot breath fanning against your exposed core. “You look so delicious”, he groans before he buries himself in your folds. His tongue teases your entrance, pressing against it, but never quite breaching. His nose bumps against your clit, sending a shock of arousal up your spine. You let out a moan when his tongue trails up higher, circling the most sensitive part of yourself.

Suddenly, he begins to suck the bud into his mouth and you gasp, back arching. You bury your hands into his soft hair, tugging slightly with need. He continues teasing your hooded bundle of nerves, but adds his fingers back inside you. With delicate motions, he strokes your velvety walls, reaching for your sensitive g-spot. A sudden cool sensation pushes at you and you realise it's his wedding ring. Clenching, you moan his name, needy; greedy. Your pleasure is ascending, the feeling of his flexible tongue with his talented fingers, you begin to shake, thighs trying to clench around his head.

“Fuck, please, I want to suck you off. Need it, please”, you whimper, tears blurring your vision. At your distress, he immediately perks up to check your face for any sign of discomfort. When he can’t find any, he coos, moving up to cradle your face, “Hey, shh, it’s okay, you’re okay”, he whispers, gently petting your hair, “You just want to have your mouth filled, ain’t that right?” You nod, leaning into the warmth of his palm.

He pushes himself further up the bed, laying on his back. His cock looks delicious, pre cum coating the crown. It has a lovely red colour, a beautiful contrast to his pale tummy. Helmut gestures towards his length, smiling at your sweaty face, “Take it then, mein Engel, but let me make you feel good too” His voice sounds strained, his need for friction obvious.

You crawl up to him, eyes trained on his heavy cock. Sniffling, you position your pussy above his face and lean down to take his hard length into your palm. Squeezing and turning your wrist, you tease him, enjoying the soft, veiny feeling of him. He moans and dives back into your pussy, licking and nibbling you so well. His fingers breach your stretched opening once more, his other hand grabbing onto your bum.

He kneads the soft flesh as you feel the ring that makes him yours again. A sudden flame of desire fills you and you envelope his cock with your mouth. Immediately, you press your tongue against the silky underside, your free hand, clad with your own wedding ring, massaging his full balls. He moans against your pussy, twitching inside of your mouth.

Both of you get lost in the pleasure, tongues licking and sucking greedily, fingers playing over your most sensitive parts. He begins to thrust up, his beautiful head hitting against the back of your throat, making you gag around him. He pulls off of you, breathing heavily, “You good?”, he forces out. You nod, pushing your hips back against his mouth. He chuckles, but goes back to work you over, sucking and tickling your hard clit.

You take a deep breath before you lower your mouth back onto him. You focus on inhaling through our nose as you go deeper and deeper until your nose scratches his trimmed pubic hair. He whimpers, moaning as you swallow around him. The vibrations feel so good against your core and you groan, egging him on even further.

His balls tighten, but he pulls you back swiftly, clamping his base tightly, panting heavily.

“Don’t want to cum just yet”, he groans. You whimper, so drawn to him, an overwhelming sexual tension tingling through your body. Electrified, you turn around, getting on your hands and knees, presenting yourself to him. Hearing him moan, you push your ass out even further wiggling slightly. His hands run up to your shoulders, starting at your cheeks, slowly roaming over your skin. His chest presses against you, cock jutting itself between your cheeks, balls against your wet entrance.

His hands run down your arms and he kisses at your neck, working his way to your pulse point where he begins to suck and nibble. You draw in a shaky breath, goosebumps rising all over your skin. You whimper, once more becoming teary eyed. He lets up bruising your skin, a lovely hickey already starting to form. “I love you, Mrs Zemo”, he whispers against your ear. Smiling softly, you turn your head, “I love you too, Mr Zemo” Your husband grins, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple.

Drawing back, he teases your slick hole with his wet head, slapping his length over your clit until you’re moaning for him to take you. Finally, he pushes into you, carefully at first, yet slowly bottoming out. Once he’s balls deep inside you, he lets out a loud groan as you feel him twitch. Involuntarily, you clench down on him, the feeling of being filled up just so perfectly satisfying.

He begins to pull out, only to push back in, gradually creating a fulfilling rhythm. His thrusts push against your walls so well, a delicious sensation that makes your eyes roll back into your head. Helmut’s firm hands run down to your breasts, squeezing and toying with them. It feels incredible, being touched and claimed all over.

His hips become faster, thrusts stronger. The sounds of skin slapping together, deep groans and growls as well as your own moans and whimpers fill your room, a beautiful song of pleasure and affection, a sonnet of lovers living out their desire.

He pushes himself up, the rhythm of his hips never faltering. With his weight supported solely by his knees, he pulls you up against his chest, slick bodies pressed against each other. His hand sneaks around your throat, tightening slowly. A shockwave of arousal consumes you when you feel the platinum of his wedding band against your sensitive hickey. “You feel so good around me, taking me so well, such a good wife for me”, he babbles, thrusts becoming more irregular, but harder, more determined.

“I want you to cum on my cock, can you do that, Engel?” You nod once he lets up his hold on your jugular, taking deep breaths. “Need you to say it, need to hear my good little wife” Panting, you gasp, “I will, please please please. I want it so, so bad” Suddenly tears jump into your eyes with desire and love for the man behind you.

Growling, he pushes you down into the mattress, your cheek pressed to the satin sheets. His hips grow even faster, pushing further, filling you up harder. The new angle makes him hit your velvety spot head on every time, pushing you into even higher layers of pleasure, but once he drops his fingers down to your clit, you crumble, desperately sobbing into the bed.

The coil and desire in your lower belly tightens. You begin to clamp around him uncontrollably, your entire body beginning to twitch with the anticipation of your upcoming high. “Shit, I’m gonna cum, ‘m so close, please let me cum”, you beg, convulsing around him. “Let go for me, Engel. Cum on my cock”, he rasps and with a particular hrd thrust, you break, cumming all over his thick length.

Thighs shaking and back arched you let the pleasure take over, all while your husband still fucks into you furiously, tight circles on your clit. With a few last pushes into your tight heat, strong and hard, he spills into you, filling your body up with his white, hot seed. The feeling of being stuffed with his cock, overflowing with the seed of the love of your life and the delicious pressure against your sensitive nub, you feel a new, yet so familiar sensation overflow you.

Screaming his name, your pussy flutters while you gush around his pulsing length, drenching him with a mixture of your and his orgasm. Convulsing one last time, the final gush of cum squirts out of you. Helmut carefully pulls out of you and watches as your core clenches, trying to keep his seed inside you.

Drained and exhausted, you collapse on your side, eyes shut. Your legs twitch with the aftershocks of your orgasm, but you’re too fucked out to notice. Warmth and safety consume you when you feel your husband’s arms wrapped around you, his face against your neck, “I’m so proud of you, Engel. You did so well”, his breathing isn’t quite back to normal, the intensity of his orgasm left him a little drained and floaty as well. “Hmm, thank you”, you mumble, cuddling back into him, “I love you” Your heart flutters when you feel him smile against your skin, “I love you too. So much”

My Masterlist

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If you’ve enjoyed reading my work, please consider leaving a reblog, maybe even with a little feedback. It helps me stay motivated and makes me so happy :)

[astaroth1357]

The MC Accidentally Kisses the Brothers

Due to incredibly popular demand (and because it’s a cute prompt).

Lucifer

It was just a childish prank, but pretty much all of Satan’s pranks were childish at their core (even the more homicidal ones).

This one wasn’t even that bad in the grand scheme of things. The angry boi was just trying to see if he could get Lucifer to fall down the stairs...

...admittedly, saying it out loud makes it sound much more cruel than intended. But this is Lucifer we’re talking about. A tumble down a flight or two wouldn’t leave him too injured… Unfortunately for Satan, he wasn’t the only one who took a tumbling.

The plan was pretty simple, put an enchantment on the stairs to the Conference Hall, lay in wait, and trigger it right as Lucifer was leaving a meeting. He’s always the last to go, so it should have been foolproof.

But the MC hung back to leave with Lucifer that day and just so happened to jump forward right as Satan was timing his step… getting themselves thrown down along with him.

Fortunately for them both, the firstborn’s reflexes were astounding. He was already holding the MC in his demon form and cushioning their fall before they could even hit the first stair. And it was quite a long way down…

By the time they hit the bottom, Lucifer had them fully wrapped up in his wings and Satan couldn’t what had happened until they unfolded… whereupon he saw the MC laying on top of Lucifer with their lips far FAR too close together for his liking…

Yeah, that backfired pretty hard and Satan was left fuming over it for days… Not that Lucifer minded in the slightest.

Mammon

Sometimes when Mammon does his photoshoots he brings the MC along as one part cheerleader, one part pit crew. It’ll be their job to hold onto his stuff, make sure he has enough to drink, and generally stand there and be impressed by his awesomeness until they leave.

Well that day things had been going well… until a particularly nosy worker started hovering around the MC too much for Mammon’s liking.

He tried to put it past him, since he had a shoot to do and all, but he snapped about halfway through when the guy kept trying to force a conversation with the very not interested MC.

Oh, he was ready to tell him off. He made the photographer stop mid-shoot just so he could march over there himself and give that asshole a piece of his mind! He was going to absolutely tear him to shreds and then-!!

Okay, that didn’t exactly happen because right as he got up to the MC, ready to start shouting, our lovable moron tripped… again…

But unlike the first time, where he more or less face-planted the floor, this time he smacked lips first into a surprised MC in front of the jerk he was trying to scare off.

… Yeah. He meant to do that.

And that’s exactly how he played it off, keeping his lips right where they were and flipping the other guy off so he’d leave them alone (which, thankfully, he did).

Totally what he intended to do and he'll swear so to this day.

Leviathan

… how in the world do you mess up the Kabedon?

Levi had seen the move done hundreds of times before in anime. It’s a very simple concept: put someone up against a wall, put one of your hands by their head, and just lean. That’s it. Not rocket science.

Levi had been mentally preparing himself for this moment for days… He may or may not have even practiced this (very simple) move in his room countless times. He genuinely thought he was ready to try it on the MC.

So, on one of those rare days he went to RAD, he gave it a shot. He waited until he and the MC were walking alone together, got them up against the wall, annnnd…

...rather than touching the wall next to them, his hand completely missed any sort of hard surface because in his panic he stopped them right next to a blind corner…

Naturally, his body fell forward some but since there wasn’t that much space between them by that point he uh… he… well he now knows their preferred Chapstick.

No matter what the MC’s reaction ultimately was, he leapt away from them like he just licked an electric fence and bolted.

His embarrassment genuinely cannot be overstated... He practically broke a window in his attempt to get the hell out of there and back to his room, where he didn’t leave for three days straight… Poor Levi...

Satan

It started out as easily one of the best days of his life. 

The MC, the exchange students, and the Royal Court had all decided to surprise him on his birthday with a Devildom-style cat cafe… Kitties were on practically every surface around him! 

Admittedly, Satan had been pretty distracted throughout most of his time there. There were just so many kitties for him to see that he sort of forgot about the MC in the process…

So in order to get his attention a little, the MC thought it would be cute to pick up one of the furry bundles and hold it in front of their face, doing that little thing where you pretended to “talk” for the cat and even waved one of its little paws at him.

They hadn’t predicted that Satan would find the display utterly, heart-meltingly adorable...

He attempted to plant a kiss on top of the furry critter’s head at the exact time that the MC brought the cat down their face entirely.

It took Satan a second or two to register that his lips were not, in fact, on a cat. And when he pulled back to see the MC’s shocked expression, the full gravity of his actions smacked him in the face like a falling log…

Cue a flustered rush to apologize while the MC hid their face back behind the confused kitty… Getting an accidental kiss in front of the prince of Hell and literal angels was pretty dang embarrassing...

At least the incident was taken in good spirits by most of the people in attendance (minus Luke, who was desperately trying to give MC his bottle of holy water like it was pepper spray by that point). 

Though after that point, Satan noticed that his “guests” kept passive-aggressively giving him cats until he was literally so buried in fluff he could barely move… probably not related, though. Probably.

Asmodeus 

It was another party night with Asmo and the MC at the Fall having a good time.

Now, Asmo was no stranger to Demonus and other assorted demonic beverages. You could say his tolerance is decent enough, but get a few too many in him and he does start to get a little off…

And a drunk Asmo is a very troublesome Asmo. 

The MC, bless their heart, was pretty much playing the sober babysitter to their demon friend when Asmo decided that he HAD to leave the club and get cupcakes right then. Being the good person they were, MC agreed to go with him, as long as he promised to stay with them and not wander off…

But they somehow managed to lose him within three blocks from the club. All they did was check their phone for directions and the guy bailed!!

Little did the MC know, while they were frantically searching for him Asmo hadn’t run away completely… He had just decided it was a great idea to play hide-and-seek at 2am and hid behind a nearby building.

It was his drunken giggling that eventually gave away his position, but he jumped out from behind the corner right as the MC was rounding it. Naturally, they both to collided. If hugging hadn’t been an instinctual action to Asmo by they point, they would have fallen down…

All they did ended up doing instead was getting caught in lip-lock due to Asmo’s sudden vice-grip.

Apparently he laughed and laughed all the way back to the House but his memory of it is pretty hazy… He’ll just have to get the MC to reenact it with him a few dozen times, that ought to jog his memory!

Beelzebub 

The MC was helping Beel out with his workout yet again and things had been going well.

Since Beel is pretty much a one-man army, his weights and routine are usually waaay too advanced for any human to be able to handle. So the MC is less his spotter and more a casual supporter/motivator than anything else.

And motivation was just what they were trying to provide with a fun little experiment of theirs… 

Ever heard of the “carrot-on-the-stick”? Well they decided to try something like that… literally. Just replace the carrot with a roast ham!

They put ham on a fishing pole, set Beel up on a treadmill, and dangled it closer or farther away based on his speed. In theory, it wasn’t the worst idea in the world... but in practice…? 

Well. Someone should have told them not to stand in front of him during this little trial...

Their motivation experiment did work for a few minutes… But soon enough Beel’s stomach got the better of his (marginal) self-control. They just weren’t expecting him to leap over the top of the treadmill...!

The smart thing to do would have been to drop the fishing pole or to just keep it still so Beel could grab the meat, but the MC reflexively drew the pole back behind them… thus putting them right in Beel’s path instead.

And that’s how they ended up caged under lord knows how many pounds of Beelzebub, thankfully kissing their lips rather than trying to chew them off…

Needless to say, Beel climbed off of them, red as a cherry, and the MC let him have that ham before the two agreed to never try this again. Whoopsie!

Belphegor 

Belphie likes sleep. 

Belphie likes cuddles. 

Belphie likes cuddling in his sleep.

Really this was bound to happen eventually…

The MC and Belphie were having a nice nap together in the attic and there wasn’t anything nefarious about it. Just two people snuggled up together in the same bed.

...snuggled up very close together in the same bed.

So close, in fact, that when the MC finally woke up and rolled over some to reposition themselves, they felt the soft lips of their companion brush up against their own.

They, of course, had the appropriate reaction of shock and embarrassment to this… but this cheeky fucker just smirked at them and let one eye slip open.

“What…? Is that it? It’ll take more than that to wake me up…”

Never mind the fact he was awake the whole time...

He really should have expected that pillow to the head, but after they struck the first blow, it was on now.

Don't worry. As it would turn out, an impromptu pillow fight also wakes him up just fine. Who'd have guessed?

[atlabeth]

everything happens for a reason part one - zuko x fem!reader

I am not your concern 

masterlist | part 2 

summary: as a servant in the fire nation, you’ve learned that life is often unfair. but as you venture through a tumultuous relationship with a certain prince, you come to learn a very tricky lesson: everything happens for a reason.

a/n: im so excited about this guys you dont even know. i have so much planned and i hope you all love it as much as i do - just for reference, in this first chapter y/n is 9 and zuko is 10

wc: 2.3k

warning(s): mentions of a raid, reader and zuko both being little shits lmao

chapter title comes from not your concern by the hush sound! 

Y/N sprawled out on the grass and sighed contentedly as the sun shined down on her and her mother. Today was easier than most as they had been given the day off, an occasion that was rare in the royal palace. She closed her eyes and breathed in the fresh scent aerating their surroundings. Her senses were blessed with a mix of sea salt and fire lilies, an ever present reminder of the two worlds she walked in.

“Y/N,” her mother chided as she glanced down at her daughter from her sewing. “You shouldn’t lay in the grass like that. You know how hard those stains are to get out; I don’t need even more work on my plate.”

“Yes, mother,” she sighed as she sat up with mock exasperation. “I just feel like I should take advantage of this! We spend all day inside, and now that we’re out here you’re worried about things like stained clothes.” Y/N pushed herself to her feet and spread her arms out as she spun in a small circle. “Life is short, and I already spend all of it sewing and healing. Don’t you think I deserve some grass stains?”

“Did you find your way into the poetry books again?” she joked. “Of course I think you should have fun, but you know how things are here. I’m just trying to keep you safe.”

She continued to twirl, the soft breeze a welcome sensation on her skin. “I know, I know, but you don’t need to worry! I can—”

“Dear, watch where you’re going!”

Her mother’s warning didn’t reach her in time, a fact that became known to Y/N as she collided into the boy in front of her. A small gasp escaped her as recognition filled her now wide eyes.

“Prince Zuko!” she exclaimed, nervous hands finding their positions as she bowed. “Please forgive me for the accident, I didn’t realize you were there.”

Y/N had never spoken to the young prince directly — she mainly shadowed her mother while she did her work around the palace or honed her healing abilities under the watchful eye of Rika, their most skilled healer — but she knew enough to understand that she was to never disrespect the royal family in any way.

“Don’t worry,” he said with a small smile, alleviating the tension that had built up in her shoulders. “I’m sorry too, I wasn’t paying attention either. I actually came here for some help.” As she straightened her back, she noticed the bundle of fabric he was holding. “Are you Kura?”

“Oh, no. That’s my mother.” She pointed behind her where her mother greeted the prince with a respectful nod and smile of her own. “Did you come to get something fixed? She’s the best seamstress in all of the Four Nations.”

“My daughter flatters me,” Kura chucked. “What is it that you require, Prince Zuko?”

“She’s right, actually.” He held up the bundle of cloth which Y/N now recognized as one of the many outfits he owned. She didn’t consider herself a jealous person, but the prince’s extensive wardrobe was an exception to that rule. She had one set uniform for her work supplied by the Fire Nation, and a threadbare set for everything else that her mother had bought for her after saving up what little copper they had to spare. Y/N didn’t mind it too much as she was able to practice her sewing whenever the seams broke, but she was sure that her handiwork made up more of the outfit than the original by now.

“I tore one of the sleeves while I was training with Azula,” Zuko expressed with a frown. “I showed it to my mother, and she said that Kura would be able to fix it. I had to go through every single servant to find you, so I really hope you can. ”

Kura set her current project down and took the cloth from the prince, examining it with the skillful eye of a seamstress before meeting his eyes with another smile. “Of course, dear. I should have it ready for you by tomorrow; my daughter will deliver it to your quarters around midday.”

“Do it well,” he demanded. “I can’t focus on my training if my clothes are falling apart.”

“Hey!” she spoke up, scowling as she crossed her arms. It was like every shred of sense Y/N had disappeared the moment he talked down to her mother. “This is our day off, so you should be thankful that my mother is taking time out of her day to do this for you. Be nicer to her.”

“Y/N!” her mother scolded, her tone frantically apologetic as she turned back to the prince. “Please, forgive my daughter. She speaks her mind far too often, she doesn’t mean any disrespect.”

“No, you’re right.” A thoughtful expression found its way onto the young boy’s features, his eyes trained on her own displeasure. “My father always talks that way to the servants and I guess it came off on me. I’m sorry. It’s not nice.”

“Apology accepted,” Y/N said reluctantly.

“Thank you for your help. I’ll make sure to tell all my friends about your work.” The young prince smiled and walked off, though not without a curious second glance at the girl who righted his wrong.

As soon as the prince was out of range, Kura began to berate her daughter. “Y/N, by now you have to understand that under no circumstances may you ever speak to a member of the royal family like that! Do you know what kind of punishment you could’ve gotten if anyone else was around to hear that?”

She sighed and settled back on the ground, plucking a blade of grass from the ground. “I know, mother, but he needs to learn manners, prince or not!”

“That’s not how it works here. Our job is to serve the royal family without question. Sometimes they say mean things, but we can’t do anything about it. Apologies are not yours to demand or accept.”

“That’s not fair,” she mumbled as she wrapped the strand of grass around her finger. “Back home I could say whatever I wanted.”

“I know, honey, I know. But we’re not at home anymore, so the rules there don’t apply. We have to follow the rules that are put in place here. Can you promise that you’ll do that for me?”

“Yes, mother.” It was a phrase that seemed to always be at the tip of her tongue now that constant apologies were littered throughout her days, usually accompanied by a sigh.

“I miss home,” The murmured sentiment was almost too soft for Kura to hear and her heart sank. Her daughter’s gaze was trained on the ground, idle fingers tapping against her legs, and she put a momentary pause to her sewing with a sigh.

“Dear, don’t you have a healing session today with Rika?”

“You know I don’t,” she grumbled. “It’s my day off, which no one seems to remember.”

“Y/N.” Kura’s voice was more firm and she now understood that it wasn’t so much a suggestion as a demand. “I think you should pay Rika a visit.”

She heaved an exasperated sigh and stood up in a far more exaggerated gesture than necessary. “Alright. I’ll see you later tonight, mother.” And as Y/N began her walk back to the palace, a sour feeling brewed in her chest.

Kura watched on, unable to prevent the fear that permeated her thoughts. They were fortunate that the young prince was generous, but along with his mother they might’ve been the only two who shared those views in the royal family. She hated having to constantly admonish her daughter — the girl was too young to constantly live in fear, especially having already been through so much — but in the Fire Nation they couldn’t afford to do anything less. A spitfire girl like her daughter was constantly treading on thin ice, and it was all she could do to keep her safe.

Kura feared the day when she wasn’t there to protect her.

-

After a short walk that consisted of muttering things to herself and taking her anger out on the pebbles unfortunate enough to be in her path, Y/N found herself back at the palace. She let herself into a side entrance meant only for servants and set on her way to the infirmary when she collided with someone else — an apology was already on the tip of her tongue when she recognized it was Prince Zuko once more. She truly had rotten luck.

Y/N shot quick glances around to ensure that they were alone, then lowered her voice just for extra security. “My mom says I’m not supposed to talk to you like this, but I don’t care. Just because you’re the prince doesn’t mean you can just go around bumping into people!” she whispered angrily.

“But— you were the one who bumped into me the first time!”

She could feel her face heat up from embarrassment and she crossed her arms. “Just— whatever! Do you want something or do you just like popping up in places you're not supposed to be?”

“I guess I just wanted to talk to you,” Zuko shrugged. “I’ve never really seen you around before, and you’re interesting.”

Y/N scrutinized him trying to find out if he was tricking her somehow, but after staring at him for a solid ten seconds she finally caved. “Fine,” she said, already beginning to walk. “But you’d better make it fast. I have to get to a healing session.”

He took a few quick steps to catch up to her and frowned. “I’m the prince. Technically I could order you to stop and you would have to listen.”

“Yeah, well when it’s just the two of us, you’re just another boy. I don’t have time to talk to boys for hours.”

His brows creased for a moment as he thought about it, then ultimately shrugged once more. “Okay. You said you were going to a healing session- does that mean you’re a waterbender?”

She nodded, and Zuko waited for her to explain further. He heaved a sigh, realizing that he was going to have to carry this conversation. “Well.. what’s a waterbender doing in the Fire Nation?”

She fixed him with a puzzled look. “I’m a servant. That’s why I’m here.”

“I know that,” he frowned. “But most of the servants here are from the Fire Nation, and there are hardly any around your age. I’m just trying to get to know you better.”

Y/N sighed heavily — she now knew that the child prince of the Fire Nation had zero sense of boundaries, and if she wanted to get him off her back she had to answer to his satisfaction. “My mother is a waterbender from the Northern Tribe. She left home when she was young to travel the world and help who she could with her healing, and eventually she fell in love with an earthbender. That was my father — they ended up marrying and settling down in his village where they had me a few years later. Last month, my village was raided by the Fire Nation, and my mother and I were captured after they discovered we were waterbenders. And now I’m here, being annoyed by a prince.”

Zuko frowned once more — it seemed if he continued hanging out with this girl the expression would be stuck permanently on his face — and he suddenly felt ashamed for pushing. “I’m really sorry,” he muttered. “I had no idea.”

She heaved another sigh and shook her head. “Yeah, well they probably keep a lot of the bad things they do from you. It’s easier to send raids to destroy families when your children don’t know.”

“What happened to your father?” he questioned.

Y/N’s body stiffened, and she had never been more thankful to see the infirmary door. “Save your questions for next time,” she grumbled.

Zuko’s eyes lit up, her earlier stumble going unnoticed, and a small smile found its way across his lips. “There’s gonna be a next time?”

She managed to cover up her own growing smile with an ambivalent shrug. “As long as you don’t bump into me again.” Y/N opened the door and gave him a polite parting nod before disappearing inside.

“Good afternoon, Master Rika,” she said with a small bow. “I know this is unexpected, but my mother insisted that I come here to—”

“Let me guess,” the older woman interrupted with a raised brow. “Kura got tired of you and sent you here to annoy me instead?”

Y/N chuckled and rolled her eyes good-naturedly as she pushed the sleeves of her tunic up to her elbows. “When have I ever annoyed you?”

“That’s a question you don’t want me to answer,” she joked as she rummaged through the closet to get supplies. “Besides, what was that smile for? Meet a boy on your day off? A girl?”

Her eyes widened momentarily and she felt the heat rush to her cheeks intensely. “I don’t ask you about your life while we heal, you shouldn’t ask about mine!”

Zuko, who had been eavesdropping by the door in an extremely un-covert fashion, felt an even bigger smile. The girl was prickly as a cactus, but he found himself strangely drawn to her — not in spite of it, but because of it. He was so used to anyone he talked to outside of his immediate family and friends bending at the knee to fulfill his every will, and it was exhausting at times. But this girl — Y/N, as he had learned — was the complete opposite.

He started to walk away, sure that he was late for some kind of session of his own. Zuko found himself thinking of the glimpse of a smile he got, already finding himself scheming up ways to make it return.

And despite her request, he was almost certain he would try to bump into her again.

[hangovercurse]

Falling Like the Stars

Pete and you had gotten in a fight the night before he left for filming, leaving you to pick up the pieces of your relationship.

Request: “pete and you take it to another room at a party 😉”

Pete Davidson x Reader

Warnings: Smut (18+), cursing, angst

A/N: This is (loosely) based off Falling Like the Stars by James Arthur

Word Count: 3038

In all eight months of your relationship with Pete, you’d never gone this long without talking. Your phone was right in front of you, his contact in your favorites. But you couldn’t be the first to fold.

It had been 3 and a half weeks, 25 days, since he left for filming. Since that stupid fight.

Maybe you pushed him too far, maybe you expected too much of him, but you’d been together for eight months. And you knew you loved him. The night before he left, he’d taken you out on the most romantic date you’d ever been on, and when you guys got back to your place, you told him you loved him. And he didn’t say it back.

He didn’t say anything, he just shut down. After you begged him to say something, anything, he just gave you a frustrated, “what do you want me to say?”

And thus, the fight ensued, you accusing him of not caring about your relationship and him yelling at you for pressuring him into something he wasn’t ready for.

And maybe you were in the wrong, but you were hurt. You had put everything on the line for him, every inch of your soul was bare to him. And he crushed it. So, you fought. And he left. And you hadn’t talked since except a text from him saying he landed safely.

It was killing you inside. But you couldn’t keep this going if he wasn’t as invested as you were. So, you left it up to him to make the first move.

In the meantime, you occupied your mind with work, television, and mindless scrolling through social media. Your timeline was filled with pictures of your fans, activism posts, and fan accounts of Pete that you followed. One post in particular caught your eye, a picture you didn’t even know the fans had.

It was a picture you had taken of Pete on your first date, the morning after the two of you had met. The memory made you smile.

You were outside on Colson’s balcony, taking hits of the cigarette in your hand and watching the crowd of drunken partygoers below you.

Suddenly the sliding glass door opened behind you, and the most beautiful man you’d ever seen walked out. His hair was dark, his eyes even darker. He seemed gentle, kind, but also like he could rip you to shreds without hesitation. It was intoxicating.

“Oh,” he said upon seeing you, “sorry I didn’t think anyone would be out here.”

You smiled, “you’re good. I don’t mind the company.” He nodded, coming to lean against the railing next to you. You offered him the cigarette, which he graciously took.

“What’s a girl like you doing up here all by herself?” He asked.

You raised an eyebrow, “a girl like me?” A smirk made its way to your face when he looked over at you, eyes raking over your figure.

“I mean, someone as stunning as you shouldn’t be up here all alone. You should be down there, stealing everyone’s breath.”

His comment made you blush slightly. “It’s a bit too much down there for me. I don’t mind all the people but none of them are gonna remember anything in the morning. I don’t want to be that person. I want to remember tonight.”

This time, his eyebrow raised. “Is tonight a special night for you?” He asked.

You bit your lip, turning to face him fully. “I’m not sure yet. You tell me.”

He moved closer to you, hand delicately touching your waist. You took his hesitancy as a question of permission, to which you responded by reaching a hand to run up his arm, stopping on his shoulder. The man smirked, moving even closer to you.

“I’m Y/N.” You told him quietly.

His head dipped down, lips meeting yours, and you closed your eyes, taking in the sensation. Your mouths moved together in sync as his grip on your waist got tighter, pulling you closer to him. You brought your second hand up to wrap around his neck, lifting yourself up on your toes to get better access to his plush lips.

He pulled away from you slowly as your eyes opened, finding his brown ones exploring your face. “I’m Pete.” He whispered, before connecting your lips again.

His hands squeezed your waist, lifting you up slightly. You took the hint and jumped up, wrapping your legs around his waist as one hand moved up to support your back. He carried you back inside to the bedroom the balcony was attached to.

His mouth never left yours, his tongue lightly swiping against your lip. You granted him access, the feeling of your tongues colliding a pleasurable one, it made you feel even closer to him.

He set you onto the bed, finally detaching your lips. You whined as he stepped towards the door but stopped when his hand turned the lock. He chuckled at your neediness, rushing back to the bed, and climbing on top of you, forcing you to lay back onto the bed.

Your hands went to his hair, tangling your fingers in the strands. His hands traveled your middle, reaching the bottom of your shirt. He paused before pulling it up, making sure it was okay with you that he did so.

Once the fabric was removed to reveal your bra-clad chest, he smirked down at you, taking in your body. Pete let out a soft “wow,” that you probably weren’t supposed to hear.

It made you smirk, your hands removing the jacket from him before pulling his shirt over his head. The tattoos on his chest and arms revealed themselves, and you took a moment to admire them. Absentmindedly, you reached out to trace one on his arm, making him grin. Instead of saying anything, he reconnected your lips.

His bare skin on yours made heat run from every part of your body straight to your core. You could feel him hardening through his jeans, and you wanted nothing more than to rip them off. Pete had a similar idea, hands moving to unclasp your bra and he pulled the fabric from your skin. His hands remained there, massaging the tissue, and occasionally squeezing your hardening nipples with his fingers.

“Fuck you’re so pretty.” He mumbled against your mouth, moving his head down to press a soft kiss to your neck. One kiss turned into two, then three, and suddenly Pete was kissing a path to your breasts.

Once his lips connected with your nipples, you let out a sigh of pleasure. His teeth grazed the bud lightly, switching between each breast to give them both the attention they deserved.

The hands that you had tangled in his hair pulled lightly, nails scratching his skull in a way that drove him crazy. He finally left your chest, pressing sloppy kisses down your stomach until he reached the top of your jeans.

Pausing, he looked up at you. “Do you want this?” He asked, sweetly.

You bit your lip, looking down at him and taking in his slightly disheveled appearance. “Yes, Pete. Please.” You asked, earning a smile from him. His hands unbuttoned your pants, pulling them down your legs slowly before tossing them across the room. He stood up and removed his own pants, leaving only two sets of thin cloth in between your heat and his member.

His face returned to its position at the top of your panties. He lightly nipped at the skin there, causing a small groan to escape your lips. He smirked, grabbing the top of your panties in his teeth, and dragging them downwards, exposing your pussy. He used his hands to help his mouth pull the material all the way down your legs, your panties soon joining the rest of your clothes on the floor somewhere.

You took in a breath when his hands grabbed your thighs, spreading them apart. His breath hit your heat as he looked up at you, basking in the beauty of your expression. He’d barely touched you and you were already putty in his hands.

At this thought he brought his lips to your clit, sucking on the small bundle. At the contact you moaned out softly, hands gripping the sheets below you. His tongue peaked out to lick at your slit, slowly dipping into your heat.

He switched his focus from your slit to your clit and back intermediately, one hand eventually dancing up your thigh to join him. As his lips sucked on your clit his middle finger pressed into your wet hole. Another moan came from you as his long finger stretched you out.

He smiled against you when he heard your sounds as he pumped the digit in and out of you. When he felt you were ready, he added a second finger. Picking up his pace, he started curling his fingers as he pumped, hitting your walls.

You could feel your climax building, but he pulled out before you could get too close. He sat up on his knees, eyes finding yours. You watched as he slowly licked his fingers clean, climbing off the bed and finding his jeans. He grabbed a foil wrapper from one of the pockets and brought it back to the bed. He pulled his underwear down, exposing his long, hard dick.

You moaned at the sight, excited at the thought of him filling you up. He rolled the condom onto his member, pumping himself a few times. He lined himself up with your entrance, watching your face.

“You still want this?” He asked.

You loved how he kept asking, kept making sure this was okay with you. “Yes.” You let out, softly, the anticipation killing you.

At your consent, he pushed into you, slowly. His large cock filled you up, stretching your pussy out. Pete let out a quiet groan as you adjusted to him. His lips found their way to your neck again, hot breath hitting your skin.

He pulled out slowly, pushing back in as he pressed a kiss to your neck. “Fuck you feel so good.” He mumbled into your skin. He thrusted into you again, harder this time. Your hands went to his back, gripping onto him.

Pete started picking up his pace, dick thrusting in and out of you harder every time. Your nails began to dig into his skin, definitely leaving marks. You let out small whimpers every time he hit the perfect spot in your tight pussy.

More kisses were placed on your neck as Pete pounded into you, your hips rolling up to meet his. The vibrations from his moans against your skin made everything feel so much better, and you knew you were getting close.

The feeling of his cock twitching alerted you to the fact that he was close, too. So, you let out a whine, “I’m close, Pete.”

He hummed against your neck, “me too, baby.” He continued to push you closer and closer to your climax, “mmm, feel so good around me princess.”

His lips came up to meet yours, tongue establishing dominance in your mouth. One hand found your breast, rubbing the bud between his fingers. The stimulations sent you closer and closer to the edge, until you could feel yourself at the tipping point.

The only sound in the room was your lips against his and the slapping of your skin as Pete’s cock filled you up more and more. His thrusts got sloppier and sloppier until he moaned against your lips, his hot seed filling the condom inside of you. The sensation sent you into an abyss of bliss, your orgasm crashing over you.

Your hips bucked into his as you came undone, his cock still thrusting into you but much lazier now. The feeling of a thousand pins spread through your body, creating a warm and fuzzy feeling.

Once you had both come down from your highs, he pulled out of you. He disposed of the condom and grabbed his underwear, pulling it on. He then tossed your panties and his shirt over to you, which you gladly put on.

Pete crashed onto the bed beside you, pulling you into his side. You nuzzled into him, taking in his scent of cigarettes, sex, and chocolate. You pressed a kiss to the side of his chest, the closest place your lips could get to. He chuckled, pressing his lips to the side of your head.

“I figured instead of joining the lame ass party downstairs, we could steal this room for the night. Then maybe I can take you to breakfast in the morning?” He asked, watching for your reaction.

You looked up at him, a smile on his face, “I would really, really like that.”

Breakfast was, obviously, successful, as you and Pete went out for dinner the next day, and then two days after that. Eventually he was bringing you to meet his family and you introduced him to your co-workers. It wasn’t until he took you backstage to Saturday Night Live that he officially called you his girlfriend whilst introducing you to Colin Jost and Michael Che, but you had both been exclusively with each other since you’d met.

You frowned, thinking about those memories. God, you missed Pete. You should have never said anything, you should have just let it go. Now you might never get him back.

But every part of you craved him. You wanted him here to hold you and kiss you. You wanted him to buy you stupid gifts like he did sometimes. You wanted to talk about literally nothing but that be enough for you two.

You couldn’t help but let your mind drift to where it would often go to. You and Pete in a few years, buying a house together. Your kids playing in the backyard. Going to sports games and recitals with them, taking them to see Pete at work. Getting married in front of all of your friends and family.

You wanted all of it. You had never wanted that life before you met Pete, but now it was all you could think about. You didn’t know what your future would look like without Pete, and you didn’t want to know.

So, against your vow to yourself, you called him.

“Y/N?” He asked. He sounded tired, sad. Hearing him made you freeze; you’d missed his voice. “Is everything okay?”

You bit your lip before answering, your voice coming out as a whisper, “yeah I just, I just miss you, is all.”

Pete let out a sad sigh on the other end of the phone. “I miss you, too.” He said. “I should’ve called you, I just wanted to give you space. I know we didn’t leave off in a good place.”

You stayed quiet, tears coming to your eyes as you recalled the night again. “It’s okay, Pete. I shouldn’t have thrown that on you and I shouldn’t have pushed you to say… that.” You whispered. “I’m sorry.”

You could tell Pete was thinking because he didn’t answer right away. “No, I- I shouldn’t have left you like that. We should’ve talked about it more.”

You shook your head even though he couldn’t see you, sniffling. “Pete it’s okay, really. I was in the wrong and I pushed you away. I made you leave.”

“Yeah, but I should’ve stayed.” You could hear the sadness in his voice and it broke your heart. He sighed, “princess, give me like five minutes and then we can talk about this more, okay?” You hummed into the receiver and the line went dead.

You sunk further into the couch, tears pouring from your eyes. You felt like you were crumbling into little pieces without him. And now he was avoiding important conversations with you.

You came to the realization that you should’ve made the night he left; he doesn’t want you anymore. The thought made you breakdown even more, your breathing quickening and sobs escaping you as you buried your face into your hands that were covered in the sleeves of Pete’s sweater.

A few minutes later you heard a knock on your door. Even though you were in no state to answer it, you did so anyways. You found your person standing there, shoulders hunched and eyes red. Pete held a teddy bear in one hand and a heart shaped box of chocolates in the other. He looked as good as ever, but also like he hadn’t slept in weeks.

“I was literally pulling onto your street when you called me.” He chuckled as you led him inside. He set the teddy bear and chocolates on your coffee table, pulling you onto the couch next to him. “I couldn’t stand how we left things so I asked for the next few days off so that I could come see you.” He grabbed your hand lacing your fingers together.

“I mean seriously, Y/N. I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t even focus on the movie because I was just always thinking about you. It was terrifying.”

You smiled a little bit, scooting closer to him. When you spoke, your voice came out hoarse, “I missed you so much.” You couldn’t believe that he was actually here. That he had flown back to New York just to see you. “I’m sorry I made you leave and didn’t say goodbye.”

He grabbed your chin, pulling your eyes up to meet his. “I’m sorry that I was too scared to tell you how I feel.” You gave him a quizzical look. “I was so fucking scared of admitting it to myself, much less to you. But I know now, I’m sure now.”

“What are you talking about?” You whispered.

He leaned in close to you, breath hitting your lips, “I’m not scared anymore.” He said, pressing his lips to yours in a soft, short kiss. “I’m in love with you, princess.”

Your breath got caught in your throats as the words you’d been aching to hear fell from his lips. You leaned forward, kissing him again. “So fuckin in love with you.” He mumbled.

You rested your forehead against his, breaths intertwining. “I love you, Pete.”