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boliv-jenta · 10 months

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Sex worker!Max Lord x f!reader

WC:1.9k

Warnings: A little angst. Idiots in something that comes before love. Allusions to smutty times.

Summary: Hot on the heels of his first proposal Max hits you with another.

Series Masterlist

The Proposals

The yellow piece of paper that Max wrote on was unceremoniously stuffed into your purse as you headed to the office. The underground car park was a wash with flashes of red and blue. There was a queue of four or five cars waiting to get in. None of them moved an inch. Huffing you abandoned your car completely, your heels clicked purposefully on the ground as you strode towards the source of the lights. Three black SUVs sectioned off the elevator. Men in FBI windbreakers milled around talking on radios.

Something too garbled for you to hear got their attention. "We're on the move." One guy calls. They scattered, getting into two of the cars until only one guy was left by the third. He opened the back door before climbing into the driver's seat. The elevator pinged and the doors opened, revealing two board men escorting a third. The third you realised was your very red faced boss. He rants indignantly as they walk him to the SUV to load him in.

By now some of your other co-workers have arrived.

"Do you think they'll shut us down?" A voice asks over your left shoulder you open your mouth to speak but get cut off by a voice from the right. "Hardly, it's just a little embezzlement."

It was not in fact 'just a little embezzlement." After the company shut down. A long list of charges came to light. By some miracle you'd made it out with a very substantial severance pay check thanks to your excellent skills in negotiating a contract. It would give you some breathing room. Quite a lot in fact but this was still a major setback in your career. Things with Max were put on pause while you sorted through your options. It wasn't until a week later that you saw that Max had sent back your last payment. Max didn't have a cell phone so you had to leave a message at his apartment. When he didn't return in after a couple of days you got worried.

The florists wasn't hard to find. During one of your dinners, Max had spoken about how grateful he was for your help in getting it. He told you about his job, the area he worked and how the lovely old lady would cook for him. A warm smile was on his plump lips.

Standing at his door you second guess yourself. Your hand hovering over his buzzer until a woman pops her head out of the store. "So you're Max's secret lady!" Her English was heavily accented, Eastern European maybe? Wherever she was from she uses her language to hush the man inside the shop that had clearly had made a disapproving comments.

"Come, come." She waved you in. "Don't mind Viktor. He doesn't have a romantic bone in his body."

"I'm Zofia." She held out her hand. Shaking it, you give her your name. "The last few weeks Max has spoken about you every day. About how pretty and lovely you are. He thinks I haven't noticed. He still calls you a 'work friend'. You work at the bar that Max works at." If it was a question she doesn't wait for an answer. Her hands moved as fast as her mouth as she gathers a bunch of flowers and wraps them. "It's not good for him. Those unsociable hours. Sometimes I get up in the night and he's rolling home at 2am looking exhausted. At least he always has a smile on his face! Here!" She hands you the bouquet she had made. It was simple and elegant. Wildflowers and baby's breath in a hessian cloth. "I've told Max to take you these many times. A declaration of affection doesn't have to be fancy. Just good and honest. Right, Viktor?" Viktor seemed to be used to not being able to answer as he just nods his head before she continued. "Well off you go. He's been off work all week. He'll be pleased to see you." You barely get a thank you out for the flowers before she ushers you out of the door and presses Max's buzzer.

"Coming." You hear Max's voice before his footsteps descending the stairs. The door swings open to reveal him there. He looks different. Good. But different. His hair is wavy. There is no suit or shirt. He wears jeans and a sweatshirt. It takes you a moment to process it all.

"Hi." He looks happy to see you but the moment is fleeting as a voice calls from inside. "Dad?!"

The word hangs in the air before he turns to answer "Just one minute. There's someone at the door."

How did you not know he was a father? Was there just the one kid up there or more? "I..erm. I called you but didn't return it. I thought I'd check on you. You're fine so…" Every part of your body was screaming to leave.

"Yeah. I'm sorry. I was busy. It's my first visitation weekend in…too long."

"That's why you needed the money."

"Yeah." He shifts uncomfortably. "I see you met Zofia." He gestures to the flowers.

"Yeah. Lovely woman. Very chatty."

The lines around his eyes deepen as he laughs. "She is. Alistair, my son. Is here until Sunday night. I could come over then? Give you time to read my proposal?"

"That would be good. Enjoy your time with your son." Your feet move of their own accord as you exchange goodbyes. Getting into your car you feel yourself physically deflate. That was a lot. All you wanted to know was that he was okay. Now you know he talks about you enough to need a cover story. And that he has a kid. It's all a bit much as you drive home and bury yourself in looking for ways to save your career.

Sunday nights rolls around. Your mom and dad chat on different phone in the house. You filled them in on the situation with work. Assuring them that you are fine the whole time. Confirming to your mom several times that you are not going to jail. After your dad finishes telling you how his boat is coming along and hangs up, your mom stays on the line. "Are you sure you're okay, Sweetpea?"

No, I want to give up this stupid idea I had that I could run my own company and come home with my tail between my legs. I want to crawl into bed in my childhood room, just regress and live a simple life. Maybe with a sweet, brown eyed man.

"I'm fine, Mom. I'm upset, obviously, but I'll survive. I love you."

"I love you, too." You could hear the smile in her voice.

Max arrives about half an hour after you said goodbye to your mom. It was odd for him to be late.

"Sorry, I'm late. My car broke down on the way home from dropping Alastair off."

"You should have called. You didn't need to come over after that stress."

"What better way to relieve some stress than to see you?" You can't help but smile.

All week, every free second you had you thought about how you would have loved to be in his arms. Not jostling for power or control. Just being with each other. Caring for each other. It had been so long since you had that. A man in your life that wasn't seen as competition or the enemy.

"Sorry, I didn't get to read your proposal. I've been snowed under with work stuff."

"That's okay. I may have rambled a little. I can write you a shorter version. It all boils down to one sentence." Max snaps up a pen and post it note from your paper stewn table and scribbles something. "Here."

The note he handed you was simple.

I want to remove rule number two.

"Max…" All the words stuck in your throat. "I can't…"

"Can't remove it from the contract? Fine, I quit." His hands thread with yours to pull you in.

Slowly, you allow him to move you closer. "Max, you need this job. You have a son."

"I couldn't have gotten a home without your money but I can manage now. I can't take your money for something I'd willingly give you for free anymore. I shouldn't have taken it for this long."

"You'd be given up on the money for what? Me? I'm not sure I can give you a relationship. I have to focus on finding a new job…"

"About that I have a business idea…."

The small motel looks like any other from the outside. Maybe a little bit nicer than some you would pass on the highway. It's set back from the world hidden in the woods. It's advertised as a hidden hideaway for lovers but if anyone calls the number on the sign it's always fully booked. Each room has the softest cotton sheets, some have mirrored ceilings, others have restraints built into the wall, some have poles to dance around. One room, an old windowless supply room, has a full rack that people can be tied to, right behind the sex swing.

The advertising is half right. Except it's more like a hotel for people looking for lovers. There is a special number connected as well as the commercial one. A number that only a few knew by word of mouth but it soon spread. You call the number to leave your details. A contact number and what fantasy you want to live.

You want a handsome cowboy to flirty his way into your heart and between your legs? He's stabled in room twelve.

You need a daring pilot to take you higher? Room five.

A little romance, TLC and gentle hands? You're in luck. Rooms eight, ten and fourteen are happy to help.

Fourteen also provides a rougher hand. The duality of him is as much a mystery as his face that he covers with a simple black mask.

Seven comes with additional warnings. Even with those, the women who stumble out of there are never really ready for him. There's just something about him that makes them feral.

Six is the same. The theory is that it's his ability to be so dark and brooding but hold so much gentleness in those big brown, soulful eyes. It's simply magnetic.

When they both have company you worry for the wall separating them as the beds slam into it.

Two was given a fitting room number as he is more than happy to take two at a time or more. He still manages to satisfy everyone. And still go looking for more company in the night. Speaking of…

Twenty five had to be given a room at the other end of the motel as people in nearby rooms were getting high off of his supply. Six makes sure that a little weed is the only drug that he has.

Nine mans the phone line. His way with words eased the jitters of anyone calling up. He occasionally indulges those who ask for him specially. His voice entices them. The loss of his arm is still so recent that he's having trouble adjusting to being physically intimate without it, yet not one complaint has been made about his performance.

Room one is saved for the boss. He doesn't work as much as the others. He's far too busy with his family. Any requests for him have to be negotiated with his fiancé, she knows exactly what he is worth.

#pedro pascal character fanfiction #max lord #maxwell lord x f!reader #maxwell lord x you #sex worked max lord

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miraculous-pyromaniac · 1 month

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BEHOLD MY PJO/HOO ORIGINAL CHARACTER

This wonderful artwork was done by @justanotherpersonsuniverse they're a wonderful artist and writer whose works I enjoy a ton. If you're into miraculous ladybug, Splatoon, or good art and vibes in general I would guide you towards their blogs.

This is Bellerophon Heimbald, sometimes called Camp Half-Blood's Benchwarmer Hero, but most of their friends just call them Bell

A strong wielder of They/Them pronouns, Bell is a child of Euphrosyne, goddess of mirth, merriment, and joy.

Alright, this post is a little long, so ima make a break here. Bellow this is more stuff about the OC and some semi-relevant rants on greek myth lore

They changed their name to Bellerophon because they were Bell before but wanted a less gender specific full name. Also, Bellerophon is Bell's favorite Greek hero because they really love horses and pegasi, and dream of one day riding on Pegasus, the majestic flying god-horse.

Bell gets super fucking jealous of Reyna.

Bell made the unique decision to declare themselves as a Champion of Hestia, a title and role that notably doesn't exist. Despite this, Bell stubbornly insists on their role as a protector of homes and families. They will insist on being sent on, or sometimes sneak out to go on, quests relating to saving the families of her friends and fellow campers. Such endeavors include, but are not limited to, 'my godly step mom kidnapped my Mom for having too many kids with her husband', 'My Dad keeps sending me bloodstained notes and his fiancé says he hasn't left the house since I left for camp', or 'the Titan Army kidnapped my mortal siblings because I'd been feeding them false info while pretending to spy for them'. Bell will also eventually be accepted as Hestia's Champion and will be sent on quests to solve squabbles between the gods that have really been killing the vibe on Olympus. Things such as 'My husband thinks I'll fall for this shit again so I made a doll to replace him', 'That bitch banged my daughter and I might start a war over it', or 'oh fuck I lost the moon'.

The PJO storyline spans many years and this is only a screenshot of time for Bell's character. They're about 16 in this art, at around the time of The Battle of the Labyrinth book.

Bell's godly parent is not a well known goddess, Euphrosyne is one of the Charities, a trio of goddess siblings who serve as Aphrodite's attendants. The best way I can relate who she is is that she's the daughter of the Titaness of water-meadows, Eurynome, who raised Hephaestus after he was baby-tossed off Olympus by Hera. Her father is of course Zeus, though it might not have been adultery. Hesiod claimed that Eurynome was Zeus's third wife after Metis, who he absorbed, and Themis, who Zeus divorced after birthing at least 2 (possibly 3) sets of triplet goddesses. One set of those triplets was the wrinkly goddesses now known as the fates, who scared their parents so much that Zeus got a divorce and Themis stopped having kids and went to law school or something or other.

In any case, my point is that Bell's demigod powers aren't flashy or destructive like the show's main cast. Bell can innately sense when those around them feel positive emotions, a kind of joy empathy radar. They can also induce and amplify positive feelings in others, though its not effective most of the time. Their only other powers include a slightly dulled sense of pain and a resistance to poisons.

A few years into their story, Bell will end up gaining the blessing of Hestia's hearth fire. This blessing grants Bell several powers that are all defensive due to the nature of Hestia and her flames. Bell's wounds will instantly cauterize in battle and heal faster after the battle is done. Poison has way less effect on Bell, combines with their poison resistance from their demigod powers this essentially makes them immune to all non-divine poisons. Their regular body temp is also increased to around 107°F, making them very popular with the Hypnos kids during winter months. This obviously grants an aspect of fire resistance to Bell, but not immune like Leo, at about the same level as Hephaestus kids.

That spear is their primary weapon, a cross shaped Japanese style spear that Bell found wrapped up in the camp armory. It also happens to have been cursed by the man who forged it and is a very dangerous object.

That leather bracelet is actually a size changing celestial bronze shield in it's smallest size, a small disk of metal attached to the leather arm strap. It was gifted to Bell by their mother Euphrosyne. It was forged by Hephaestus, who was convinced to make the shield by his wife, Aglaia, who is also one of the Charities. Aglaia didn't just do that as a favor for her sister though, but that's not super important.

Yes, Hephaestus got remarried canonically, in both mythology and described in Percy Jackson's Greek Gods.

Bell is the main character of a PJO fanfic story I've been creating with my best friend. Though, while Bell may be the main character of their story, they are ultimately a side character in the PJO/HOO stories. My goal for Bell's story is that that it's written into the sidelines of the story the book tells, this story is the one that happens when Percy is off on his quests, or during the non-summer months when most characters are with their families, or in the gaps of time between books. I'm having a ton of fun developing a story like this, filling in the background of an already great story.

I've been writing and developing Bell's story, as well as a couple other OCs of mine, for about the past 6 months or so and this is the first time its being seen publicly. I've been trying to write a whole book/questline of story before releasing as my current fanfics update one every blue moon and I feel bad about it.

This is only 1 of the 4 Camp Half-blood OCs i have for this story and, even further, only 1 of the 10 OCs I plan to put story focus on throughout my whole plotline. Hyperfixation went crazy.

Alright I think that's enough random powers, no-context plot points, and Greek myth lore rants for one post. Ima hit the post button now but again go check out @justanotherpersonsuniverse their stuff is amazing

#pjo hoo toa #pjo #pjo oc #pjo ocs #fanfic ocs #riordanverse #percy jackson ocs #my ocs #enby oc #well technically theyre agender #just like my goofy ass

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inconmess · 3 months

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I really want to write a character study of the people in the Crimson Mirror but I am more fixed on Oscar and Cosmo at the moment cuz it has revived my interest on immortal figures and how they cope. SO back to the Grimm boys. (gonna tag all these speculations under Grimm theories if you want to look up) Also, a continuation of this post is right up here

Again, warning, long rant post.

You know… With the way it is revealed that over 87 years, Oscar has died 7 times prior to Tide and Bone, I wonder how many times he died and came back to life before Candela caught onto him cuz let's face it, no way is anyone going to know immediately after the ship incident about the side effects of the ritual. Maybe Candela does approach Cosmo and Oscar as the survivors of the ritual to know the deets but that should be about it. Even if Oscar died in the shipwreck, only Cosmo would know and the first death can be brushed off as a hallucination or close call because they are at sea.

It is during the second death that either of them knows that something is fishy but let's say due to some convenient shit it is not as easy to suspect it. Another death brushed off. But now it's a little obvious that Oscar does not come out unaffected as he starts forgetting things.

The third time is the charm and this time, his death and coming back from it was totally unexplainable because it should not be possible for him to survive the thing because let's say he was crushed to death or something more severe, but he did. That is when they actually look into what the fuck is going on more in detail because now it is obvious that something is going on in the background and that Oscar is coming back from the dead and missing memories as a consequence every single time.

It is this that sends Cosmo on full gear to research more about why this is happening and what actually happened in the ritual and how to stop this from happening because by this point, everyone has started to notice that Oscar is not aging also since the accident. (I'm placing the third death to be roundabout 10-15 years after the ship incident) I would say Candela catches onto this in his 3rd or 4th death because he comes back to life after a really impossible death situation and also isn't aging a day older from the incident, and Candela have been keeping tabs on them since the moment they mentioned a ritual, so even if Cosmo and Oscar don't tell them their discovery of Oscar and his revivification, they knock on their doors about it.

Dying 4 times over 2-3 decades have notified people that something is wrong but the 5-6 decades after with no answers kinda increases Oscar's recklessness and makes him less hopeful that he's actually going to die, that he'll live on forever without peace, Cosmo, while he's happy to have his father around him also is tired of all the lies and stories he has to spin to keep Oscar close and keeping Candela away from experimenting on the man and trying to figure out answers he can't get...

And Candela's increasing scrutiny at the fact that Oscar can't die and them using it to their advantage cuz a man who can't die sent into a undercover mission to collect information with the guarantee that he won't die? Who wouldn't want that? Or who wouldn't want to keep a close eye on an immortal man who has the secrets to unlocking how not to die?

Cosmo also essentially becomes his own inside man in Candela, making connections to keep an eye on what the higher-ups think about Oscar and what they plan to do with him in order to shield Oscar from whatever experiment they might plan to do with him.

The difficulties of having an immortal parent as you yourself grow old, afraid of leaving the parent under the shitty hands of an organization which doesn't really have a moral code when it comes to figuring out stuff and doing what they want to do and just feeling so tired and done of all the secrets you can't tell people...

And the parent in turn feeling shitty as they need to be taken care of by the child as they aren't aging and have to blend in, and even if they are tired oflife, they can't feel their age and time and again and again you hope you will die and stop being a burden, but it never happens. I wouldn't be surprised if Oscar had tried to take his own life in all this mess and it was one of his 7 deaths. I feel for both of them

#messy thots #Grimm Theories #cosmo grimm #oscar grimm #candela speculation #candela obscura #I can't stop thinking about them

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alilbitlesbian · 3 months

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Third time's the charm (common denominators) DLC

One of my readers on AO3 asked a description of a room the other day, and then I offered to describe more, and then I wrote too much so,,, here we are?

For anyone who doesn't have the context of my fic; GN!Reader-insert (Dove) is Adam's third wife (made for him ooo) and got stuck In hell during the season finale, this is just a few rooms from that story described in detail.

Story's called "Third time's the charm (common denominators)" and you can find it on ao3.

@alovesongtheywrote here you are! <3

Adam’s office

imma describe it like Dove’s investigating it

The office is pretty barebones, there are no pictures, no personal touches, really, it looks like it could belong to anyone. There’s a grand, bow-front oak desk in the centre of the room, and a few mainly empty bookshelves.

(Personally, you know exactly why Adam has a bow-front desk, he loves public stuff, and he loves blowjobs, so– Ugh, actually, let’s not think about that right now.)

There’s a desktop computer on the desk, though it’s mounted so it can easily be pushed and pulled around to see over the desk for meetings and such. You round it and open the drawers on the right side, only to find them empty aside from some menial office supplies, a perforator and such.. That, well, that can’t be right, you take a closer look, and–

Yeah, that’s more like it.

It’s a false bottom, in the hidden compartment of the drawer, there’s a vibrator and three different fleshlights, you vaguely recognize them from when Adam was in this phase and kept leaving the items around the house. He was so obsessed. “Oh! These are made from the moulds of real people, yeah, real human ass! Yeah, this is from a porn star named Chris- Hey hey, don’t look at me like that, bitch, it’s not gay– it’s THE best fucking ass possible, okay, shut the FUCK up!”

You know far too much about them, he would rant for hours and hours how the insides were made to give different textures, and– Oh, yeah, you recognize that big one, you use a pen to turn it over, it was made to ‘help train stamina’, it worked fine, which was the problem. Ugh, you thought he’d gotten rid of these.

Closing the drawer back up, you move to look at his desk, there’s a shit ton of trash on his desk, next to a pile of files he had to go through- You still have no idea what he does in his office, but you think he doesn’t, either. You recognize one of the beer cans, and huff.

That’s another fleshlight, you recognize it, because he used to keep it in the fridge, until you figured out what it was and made him get rid of it. You think he gave up on the incognito sex toys in different places, but seems he just moved them to his work, gross.

His computer is brand new, there’s several games with anime girls as the icons, one called ‘Yandere simulator’.. What’s that? Eh, whatever, unimportant.

The left drawer has a few personal affects, a miniature guitaraxe you got him for his birthday once, several pictures of you, him and/or Lyre. And a few of him and Lute, there’s also a collection of pictures he took during an extermination once, with the three of you absolutely drenched in blood.

There’s a dog bed in the corner, sometimes he takes Lyre to work, ‘Liar’ is embroidered onto the front of the bed, and there’s a small basket of different dog toys, and a hook with a spiked dog collar and studded leash hung off of it, right above the bed.

There is a row of dead cacti on the windowsill, you’re pretty sure Emily keeps giving them to him, the one furthest right is still alive, the one furthest left is the most dead one, they seem to all die of different things, though. One is rotting away (it smells), another is dried down to a raisin, one smells overwhelmingly of alcohol.. This one’s got all of it’s spikes cut out? There’s tweezers next to it and a neat pile of the spikes, jesus christ Adam, what? Another has a tiny collection of swords stabbed through it.

Actually tiny, they’re small swords, okay? You have no idea where he got them.

Moving on from that, there’s—Well, the rest of the place is pretty barren, there’s some panties you don’t recognize halfway under a bookshelf, but what else is new? You huff, having found nothing very interesting, and leave the room, noting that there is no lock on the door.

Again, gross, Adam.

Dove’s hotel room

(Before the return with Lute)

“Should we… I don’t know, empty it out?” Charlie’s hand settles on Vaggie’s shoulder, the fallen angel huffs, shoulders falling.

She’s probably been standing, looking into Dove’s old room, for a little too long.

“I don’t want to.” She murmurs lowly, Charlie smiles, but Vaggie looks away.

“Then we won’t.” Her girlfriend assures, Vaggie nods slowly, glancing around the room.

“I’d like to be alone, for a while, if that’s okay.” Charlie nods, pressing a quick kiss against Vaggie’s cheek. Her hands settle on her girlfriend’s shoulders, giving them a firm squeeze before she pulls away.

“Of course, Vaggie, I’ll be downstairs if you need me, okay?” Vaggie nods mutely, and Charlie leaves.

Vaggie squares her shoulders, then enters the room, shutting the door behind her.

Dove’s room is… A mess, really, there’s a bluetooth speaker on the nightstand, it is on, though it chimes every few seconds that it has a low battery. There’s a clock, but it’s several hours behind. The floor is littered with dirty clothes, and there are dishes around the room, though, they are oddly all clean of food residue.

There are cans of.. Mace? On the floor? All empty, it’s not like it’s a few of them either.

Vaggie confiscates the cigarettes she finds.

The bed has a single plush duck at the centre of the pillows. The pillows themselves are more set up like a nest than in a row by the headboard, which Vaggie vaguely remembers is one of Dove’s habits. There are three different TVs around the room, not a single one is fully off, one has a screensaver of ducklings in water for some reason, and another is playing ‘funniest murder videos’, again, blissfully, the volume is down.

Vaggie sighs, and turns off anything electronic she can find, she plugs the speaker into a charger. Then finds all three of the TV remotes and sets them on top of the nightstand (they are all incompatible with the other two TVs, but look exactly the same. Thank you, Dove.)

Looking around the room for anything else that should be dealt with before she.. Well, locks the room up for the foreseeable future, she’s kind of confused by her findings.

Food items, or even sex toys, is what she expects to find, that was a really weird thing with Dove. For some reason, the angel had a thing with keeping sex toys in the worst places possible. Vaggie would assume they were Adam’s if Dove weren’t so adamant they were theirs.

Weird.

But none of that was there, if anything, aside from the weirdly obnoxious TVs, and, for some reason, a mini-fridge, the room was kind of…

Bittersweet.

There was a pet bed under one of the windows, full of a certain cat’s black hair, but much bigger than necessary to be intended for Keekee, distinctly the size of a certain dog. As an extra punch in the gut, there’s a small shopping bag with a few necessities, toys, a collar and leash, and food. There’s a bowl set up to the side, it’s topped off with fresh water for Keekee.

There’s a desk, though it’s been buried under trash–or, well, it’s been buried under.. Stuff, new stuff, the most of it, like Dove has been going on a buying (or shoplifting) spree. There’s also a simple potted plant that blooms with Lilac flowers, Lute distinctly remembers Emily having one that looks like it.

She moves on, passing the walk-in closet, and the bathroom looks oddly untouched aside from some golden stains in the sink. There’s also a towel crumpled on the ground, it too, is covered in bloodstains. It’s long dry, the blood appearing brown and the cloth looks like it’d crunch if Vaggie tried to unfold it.

When did Dove get hurt? She… She can’t really think of a time.

She closes the bathroom door, she’ll ask Charlie to throw away the towel, she was sure Alastor would try to eat it or something, and that was frankly freaky when it’s her parent’s blood.

Continuing down the room, there’s a few leafy red plants in the windowsill that Vaggie thinks used to stand in other places in the hotel. The rest of the surface seems clear, aside from grime, and Vaggie almost passes by, but…

There’s a pile of pictures on the dusty windowsill, packed in a folder from some shop in hell that apparently printed them. The pictures were obviously well-loved, and frequently visited, by the smudged dust around the pile.

Vaggie sits down on the bed with the pictures and sorts through them.

She quickly figures that these are all images that were on Dove’s phone, there are.. A lot of them, she sets them in little piles, a few of the pictures are of Liar, but a lot of them are…

Candids?

She didn’t know a lot of these existed, it was a little odd, really, to see herself like this. It was just.. Domestic moments, most of them. One of her asleep in a pile with a few of the other exorcists and Lute. One of her and the others all drinking, with Dove’s face halfway in the frame in what was intended to be a selfie.

Also a lot of.. Lute.

A surprising amount, really.

Lute and Dove at a fair, with a seal plush between them (though Lute looked wholly unamused), the two of them with Liar, and many of them just..

Well.

Asleep? Cuddling? A lot of Lute, asleep, curled up in increasingly strange positions or situations. Vaggie had seen Dove take these sometimes, always with the excuse of ‘blackmail’, but…

She’s pretty sure the wing in the one she holds is Dove, Lute’s asleep ontop of Dove’s wing. That on it’s own could be fine but–

There’s a lot like that, a lot that seem oddly intimate, Vaggie shakes her head.

Dove is literally created to love men, and nothing else, Vaggie’s just reading into it too much. Lute never seemed close to them anyway.

She puts the pictures back, and stands, there’s a few loose feathers about, a few are white, but that’s not too strange, sometimes down was lighter than the normal feathers. What is strange is that there is an engraved money clip on the floor, with a few spare hundred dollars in it.

Vaggie hesitates, that’s hell’s currency, not heaven’s. How did Dove even–

She picks it up, reads what’s engraved.

Ah.

What the fuck.

LM.

…Christ, Dove, did you really steal from my father-in-law…?

She sighs, glancing one last time around the room, she unplugs some electronics (not the minifridge) and then locks the room behind her, intent to find Charlie to.. Find a way to return this without (rightfully) pissing off Lucifer.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #reader x hazbin hotel #reader insert #third time's the charm #common denominators

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creationcitystreet-em · 2 years

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Captured

Bruce Wayne (Robert Pattinson) x Latina Reader

Warnings: angst, kidnapping, bruising, blood, abuse

word count: ~1300

Masterlist

Bruce raced home in his suit from the orphanage, trying to call you and Alfred the entire way. He knew he was the Riddler's next target, and he worried for your safety as he was out of the mansion as the batman. On his third call to the house, Dory picked up the phone.

“Dory, are you alright? Where’s Y/N and Alfred?” Bruce frantically questioned. “Something terrible is about to happen.”

“Oh Master Wayne, I’m afraid it already has,” she told him with sadness in her voice. Bruce tensed up, not knowing the severity of what happened. He soon arrived at the mansion to see parts of it up in flames, an explosion setting off earlier that caught Alfred in the middle of it.

“Mr. Alfred Pennyworth was taken to the hospital, he was closest to the explosion but was alive when we arrived,” one of the firemen explained to Bruce.

“And my fiancé, Y/N, is she alright?” Bruce asked.

“She was not present when we got here.”

“What do you mean? She wasn’t working tonight, she should be here.” You worked random hours as a pediatric nurse, which fit nicely with his own batman schedule sometimes, but he knew you had the day and night off.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Wayne.”

Bruce drove to the hospital, calling your cell the entire way, but there was no answer. He had no idea where you could have been, and he hoped that you were safe and that Alfred was okay. Alfred was asleep in his hospital bed as Bruce continued to call your phone with no luck. After some time, Alfred woke up and got Bruce’s attention.

“Y/N,” he spoke first. “Is she alright?” Bruce’s eyes shot up from his phone at Alfred’s question.

“You’re awake,” he sighed in relief, the worry for one of the two most important people in his life slowly fading to know that he was severely injured but at least conscious and would heal with time. But his question concerned Bruce. “Was she with you, at the time of the explosion?”

“She was in the other room, stress baking after watching your encounter with the DA earlier,” Alfred told him and Bruce tensed up with worry.

“She wasn’t there when I got home, she wasn’t there when the paramedics and fire department arrived.”

Alfred’s face grew worried as well, he loved you since the moment you found your way into Bruce’s heart. You were the only one who got Bruce to see the light of day sometimes and to put a smile on his face. You were also good at making Alfred laugh as much as you were making Bruce laugh, you brought an overall sense of joy to the mansion that had not been there since Bruce’s parents died. You always worried greatly for your fiancé as he spent his nights out as the batman, but you supported his wishes to help the city in the way he felt most comfortable doing so.

“You don’t think,” Alfred began to voice the biggest concern in both their heads when his eye caught the tv outside his room. The news was on and Thomas Wayne’s face was displayed in the same format as the Riddler's previously published videos. “Bruce,” he pointed weakly to the screen. Bruce turned his head and saw that the Riddler was talking about him and his family on TV. He knew they needed to hear what was being said in order to figure out what happened to you.

Bruce turned on the tv in Alfred’s room quickly and put on the news just in time to get the end of the Riddler's rant about his family and his own recording of himself began to show. He would find footage of the entire story later, but he needed to know what the Riddler was going to say.

“Bruce Wayne,” the Riddler spoke to the camera. “You have spent your life living in the luxury your family exploited others for. You’ve gotten everything you’ve ever wanted and never had to pay for the sins of your father. Well that ends today. Your father took away the promises of renewal he gave to the city, so I took away the one thing you got but deserved least of all. Over a year ago, the city was excited about the new woman in the prince of Gotham’s life. She was one of us, a nobody, yet a beautiful woman who spent her days nursing children to health. Somehow she ended up with you. The town called her lucky, but I knew who was the real lucky one. How could a monster like a Wayne win the affection of such a lady? I guess that’s something I can ask her myself now.”

The Riddler turned the camera towards his right to reveal you sitting tied up in a chair with tape over your mouth. On the tape was written The Prized Jewel. Your clothing was ripped in some parts, blood both dried and fresh was scattered along your arms, legs and the right side of your forehead. Your mascara ran down your cheeks from your tears. You were still crying as the camera pointed towards you.

Bruce stood up in a panic and paced towards the tv while Alfred’s heart clenched in pain. “He has her,” Bruce managed to say through his now labored breathing. “Alfred, he has her.” Alfred didn’t know what to say, his own fears taking over his mind. The Riddler continued his taunts on the screen.

“Was it his money? I wouldn’t blame you if it was. I wonder how Bruce will feel being on the other side now, and I get a taste of the life he’s been handed to him. But I worked for it, I got you here all on my own.” He grabbed your cheeks and forced your face to look at him. Your cries sounding through the screen tore Bruce apart as he saw you squeeze your eyes shut in fear. “Look at me when I’m talking to you!” the Riddler shouted and it made you jump and only cry harder as you opened your eyes. He caressed the side of your face and then brought his attention back to the camera. “It’s time I gave myself a prize for all the hard work I’ve been doing exposing the lies of this city, and she will do just nicely. Your father got to die before paying for what he did, so now you get to live through your payment. Have fun sleeping alone tonight, Bruce.”

And the video cut off as the news began to discuss the newest actions of the Riddler. Bruce couldn’t hear any of it anymore, all he could hear in his head was your tortured crying. All he could see was the fear in your eyes. He failed to protect the one person he cared most about in the world. All his work as the batman didn’t matter when you were harmed anyway. Then he thought if he had been there, been at the mansion instead of out looking for the Riddler, he could have protected you then. And that thought brought bile into the back of his throat and a ringing in his ears as he struggled to keep himself standing amidst the anxiety in his body. How was he going to help you when he had no idea who the Riddler was or where he was located? He threw the closest thing near him at the wall across the room, and fell to his knees in anguish.

Sequel Posted!

#bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x latina!reader #latina!reader #robert pattinson #robert pattinson batman #batman riddler #riddler #paul dano riddler #fanfic #batman #the batman #batman x reader #the batman x reader #the batman x latina reader #latina reader #reader

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kingwithpaintedfingers · 1 year

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As promised!! My recommendations for Warhammer 40k reading

So, rayshell22live asked me what I thought GW was doing wrong vis a vis Warhammer 40k, and I responded with a rant about Black Library instead.

Oops. (Listen, a lot of this is pent up...)

But! I promised (myself) I would list my favorite stuff I've read from Warhammer 40k. For ease of access, I have divided it into several categories.

XENOS

There are not enough stories about Xenos. And apparently a lot of them aren't good. But here are a couple I read and liked!

The Infinite and the Divine by Robert Rath: Everyone recommends this, and for good reason. Fun, sometimes lighthearted, sometimes deep, it's the story of two old robots who hate each other but are forced to work together. It's a tale of two opposing forces, the past and the future, and what they both could mean for the present of the Necron race. Come for the dinosaurs and enemies-to-friends, stay for the old man fights and pranks gone horribly wrong.

War in the Museum by Robert Rath: Basically a deleted scene from The Infinite and the Divine. A short story.

Brutal Kunnin' by Mike Brooks: Orks vs. Tech Priests. Turned out to have way more humans than I would have liked, but still fun! Includes some hell-yeah moments and very quotable lines AND includes TWO non-binary characters! Very nice. Introduces two heroes for the ages: Ufthak Blackhawk, and his squig. The best squig.

Road Rage and Where Dere's Da Warp Dere's a Way by Mike Brooks: More Ufthak shenanigans! Both short stories.

Da Gobbo's Revenge by Mike Brooks: A Grot, tired of being abused by Orks, takes up the role of the ancient Grot hero Da Red Gobbo and begins a revolution. A novella, not long but fun.

The Hand of Darkness by Gav Thorpe: A lovely audio drama about Yvraine, the last hope of the Aeldari, on a mad quest to deprive Chaos of a dangerous asset. (Or, when I want to pretend to be bitter, "Rob's Not Actually Girlfriend (Seriously, She's Just An Ally) Breaks Into Mort's Basement and Ruins the Only Piece of Art He's Ever Made" It is a fantastically emo piece of art, I can't believe I've never referenced it in a fanfic before.) It's a good audio drama, I like it!

The Child Foretold by Nicholas Kaufmann: This one. This one is so. So freaking. GOOD. I just. It's so good??? A man adopts a baby. He has no idea what he's gotten himself into. Warning, it's also from Warhammer Horror.

And, recommended by friends, though I haven't read them yet:

The Twice-Dead King by Nate Crowley: A series of novels about a Necron phaeron trying to save his dynasty. Supposed to be really good, if less humorous than The Infinite and the Divine.

Day of Ascension by Adrian Tchaikovsky. Supposed to be a really good sci-fi novel all around, it tells the tale of a genestealer uprising.

THE CIAPHAS CAIN SERIES by Sandy Mitchell

Listen, you're either going to love this series, or you're going to hate it. Most people can get over the stylistic choices (seriously, there are a lot of phrases that are repeated over and over and over and over and over again by the author), but others find those phrases grating after a while. Give the series a try (personally I think the series gets really good with the second and third books) and decide for yourself. If you like it, you're in good company, and if you don't, that's okay, you're still in good company. Personal highlights for me include The Traitor's Hand, Death or Glory, Cain's Last Stand, the audio drama Dead in the Water, and the novella Good Soldiers Never Die.

BOOKS THAT MENTION MORTARION

There is probably at least one person out there who wants to know what books I recommend for the way I write him. So I included this in its own section.

The Buried Dagger by James Swallow: my first Horus Heresy novel, and the last one before the Siege. Aka "Oh Fuck, We Forgot to Give Mortarion an Actual Personality and Now He Needs to Do Some Emotional Heavy Lifting." And let me just say, Swallow knocks it out the fucking park on this one. I cried. Then I found out he's not written like this in almost ANY other story, even ones by James Swallow, and I cried even more. Do yourself a favor, pick up the audio book, because the way Jonathon Keebler says "I know" in Interval Two is heartbreaking.

"Lantern's Light" by James Swallow: A lot of BL books have what I like to call a "companion short story" that goes with it. This is the one for Mortarion's half of The Buried Dagger. It elaborates Mort's relationship with the Emperor and why it's so bad (hint: it has nothing to do with the Emperor killing his adopted dad).

Unification by Chris Wraight: One of Mortarion's sons reflects on why he follows Mortarion into battle. A companion short story to The Lords of Silence (see below).

Mortarion Pale King of Barbarus and Verdict of the Scythe by David Annandale: While I wish they had gone more in-depth with his character, they both provide us with some intriguing details into how Mortarion wages war in the Great Crusade, and why he does it in the way he does. As well as what his brothers think of him, and how that weighs on him and his actions (a lot more than he's willing to admit).

The above are really good for Mortarion as his own character, and the tragic protagonist of his own story.

Scars, the Path of Heaven, and Warhawk by Chris Wraight: Whereas these stories are good at depicting Mortarion as his own villainous character. Most stories twist and turn Mortarion's personality to depict him as the Jungian shadow of whatever character is the protagonist of this series. Not so the Jaghatai Khan trilogy. Here he is still (mostly) recognizable as the same character as the Buried Dagger's Mortarion, but now he's a villain. Kind of. He's not the main villain of the first two books, but he kind of is for the third one? He doesn't show up often, but it's interesting when he does.

Daemonology by Chris Wraight: There's only one paragraph from his perspective, and it's the last paragraph of the story. Regardless, it provides us with a rare look at how people weaker than Mortarion who aren't on his good side see him. And it shows us that, like the witches and sorcerers he hates, Mortarion has more brains than sense.

Honorable mentions:

Grandfather's Gift by Guy Haley, because Mortarion enjoys a garden in it and it mentions how much pain Mortarion's transformation is (also, he's mostly naked for most of it, make of that what you will). Flight of the Eisenstein by James Swallow has one or two good scenes with Mortarion, but he's barely in it.

HORUS HERESY AND PRIMARCHS

Saturnine by Dan Abnett: Some people hated it, some people loved it, personally I'm in the Loved It camp? It had some memorable moments and some interesting battles! On the other hand, if you're a Fulgrim fan, skip it, it does him no favors. If you're a Perturabo fan, give it a try! He gets some great Only Sane Man moments (and a shirtless scene. That's not important, but it's there.)

Magnus the Red Master of Prospero by Graham McNeill: It's a Magnus book, but it's a fuckin' banger for Perturabo. Good stuff. Petition to have McNeill write all the Perturabo stuff? Just...not the War of Rust, please.

Lorgar Bearer of the Word by Gav Thorpe: Holy shit, did Lorgar not have a happy childhood. Depicts him very sympathetically!

Fulgrim the Palatine Phoenix by Josh Reynolds and Ferrus Manus Gorgon of Medusa by David Guymer: Both of these go on the list for having scenes that live rent-free in my head, most of them involving either Fulgrim or one of Fulgrim's sons. Josh Reynolds is a really good writer in general, though I think he might be the one who doesn't write for GW/BL anymore.

A Lesson in Darkness by Ian St. Martin: Creepy, serial killer fun starring Konrad Curze doing creepy, fucked-up Night Haunter shit. An Audio Drama.

Angron Slave of Nuceria by Ian St. Martin: a grim look at Angron's backstory, and how the suffering he experienced in his past doomed his entire legion. There's a companion short story called "Ghosts of Nuceria," but I'm saving that one for when I really, really need to cry as if the world is ending, so I haven't read it yet. I've read part of it already and man. Man.

OTHERS FROM 40K

The Lords of Silence by Chris Wraight: Generally agreed to be one of the best Chaos Space Marine novels, it follows the story of a warband of Death Guard, the titular Lords of Silence, as they wage war and have existential crises. Introspective and philosophical at times, and always careful to make everyone a well-rounded character, has mystery elements. The story is told out of order and in the present tense, so if those are dealbreakers for you, you'll have to sit them out. also includes a great scene with Mortarion okay thanks bye

The Way Out by Rachel Harrison: part of the Black Library's Warhammer Horror line, it's an audio drama that will keep you guessing until the end. Spooky and creepy and mysterious.

A couple more honorable mentions to round things out. The following all have scenes that live rent-free in my mind, all are either short stories or novels from Warhammer Horror, all take place in 40k:

The Deacon of Wounds by David Annandale; The Bookkeeper's Skull by Justin D. Hill; Imperator Gladio by Richard Strachan.

AND A FEW FROM AGE OF SIGMAR Not very many, though, because I haven't read very many...

Hallowed Knights: Plague Garden by Josh Reynolds: the only AoS novel I've ever read. Loved it. If Torgun dies, I'll fucking riot. Part of a series that may have been stopped, sadly.

The Vintage by David Annandale: a Warhammer Horror short story I hated the first time, loved the second time. Got a really killer premise, pun not intended. From that one year where Games Workshop decided that all of the Warhammer Horror Week stories would be about vampires.

Anyway, some of the stuff I enjoyed.

#black library recommendations

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internetoverdoses · 9 months

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cw. trauma, abuse, neglect, and bullying.

rewriting danganronpa's portrayal of a DID system, because whilst I love danganronpa, personally I found it promotes way more harmful DID stereotypes than anything else. so, coming from a system, here's a healthier take on toko's DID and how i think it could have been written better. note that this is only a fan interpretation and personally how i would have liked to have seen it portrayed. toko uses she/her, syo uses she/they/its.

toko was an unwanted child and was raised by her mothers and father. she wasn't looked after properly, and often was forgotten about, which links into her passion for literature; as a child who wasn't fed correctly, and was punished by being forced into a closet for days without food, toko turned to manga as escapism - which her mothers disproved of, and would dispose of any and all manga toko would bring in, berating her for enjoying it (which ties in to why toko has such a strong dislike for manga, she was raised into believing it was cheap literature that she shouldn't have laid eyes on). bringing manga in was punished by also being kept in the closet without food, where she'd be hit by her mothers if she protested or made any noise whilst in there.

due to the abuse and trauma she suffered, toko developed DID (disassociative identity disorder). she wouldn't realise it for many, many years later - though, there were signs that showed throughout her high school life, the first encounter being in third grade when the money was found in her desk that toko was absolutely certain she hadn't stolen.

there were more instances that followed this - her having "outbursts" at her parents that she wouldn't remember, waking up with scratches on her legs, aching and brusies over her body from alleged fights, finding food wrappers from foods she wouldn't even be allowed, and the most disturbing of all, finding diary entries that most definitely weren't from her. these diary entries were confused ramblings from someone who had no idea where they were but often spoke out of anger and frustration. in-depth rants about her mothers were written, alongside how her father should be doing more and was a coward for not intervening. toko didn't recall writing any of this, and knew something was wrong, but couldn't go to her parents with what was going on, nor could she go to her school with what was happening, because it would all go back to her parents. the diary sign offs were from someone who identified as "syo", and all toko could gather was that syo was a lot more violent, and seemed to responsible for all the things she was being blamed for.

this led toko to researching what could have been going on with her - and after much research, she came to the harrowing conclusion that syo was a part of her, and was caused by the horrid upbringing she had. though, toko tried to ignore that - because she was sure plenty of other children had worse childhoods and hadn't turned out like her. so toko ignored it, as best as she could, and tried to ignore the fear that came alongside learning that there could be someone else sharing your body, and that that someone was particularly angry.

however, syo didn't share that same sentiment. syo had found the books toko was reading, and had found answers to questions that they had had. unlike toko, syo was interested in finding out what her other part was really like - and so made an effort to research ways of getting in contact with other alters, learning more and more about system terms so that they weren't so alone and had some company. it wasn't easy, and took several months before any contact was made internally, but in the meantime, syo left notes for toko to find. syo was completely unaware of how scared toko was, however, at learning about syo's existence.

eventually, internal contact was finally made and syo got to "speak" to toko. it made everything incredibly more real, and daunting, and part of toko was convinced she'd made all of it up when reading into it, but syo was there, and seemed to be able to recount memories vividly that toko had no idea even existed, but matched up with everything she had been told about what she had allegedly done in the past, going as far back as to recount when toko had been caught stealing (in all fact, syo had been hungry and figured it would be fine payback for all the times they had been bullied to take the bully's money so they could eat).

it was like that for months, syo sometimes communicating with toko. toko had figured out one main thing that managed to get syo to front without fail - blood. there were other triggers, but toko couldn't figure them out, for they were far too niché or coincidental in timing.

it was only until they were enrolled in hope's peak that toko (and ultimately, syo) were finally given any proper support. toko wanted final, decisive answers and hope's peak was supposed to be a safe place. so in her first year at hope's peak, she explained what was going on to the school board, mainly out of fear that syo may get them both kicked out. to her (albeit, very stunted) joy, she was taken seriously and she was placed in psychology sessions at the academy.

so, with that lengthy backstory written out (which is probably still missing things, it's 5am and i have had no sleep but have been fixated on finishing this for a few days), have some headcanons:

syo is definitely both a persecutor and a protector (some may argue a persecutor is a type of protector, others may not, so for the sake of clarity, she is both here)

toko hates admitting she's a system, because then people either ask her intrusive questions about her disorder or pity her for having a bad childhood

toko doesn't hate syo, per se, however she is deeply scared of their temper, despite knowing syo isn't trying to scare them

syo is eccentric. hyper, excited, the opposite of toko in almost all aspects, except for the fact that they also find it hard to accept friendship and kindness

the class were made aware of syo's existence after she completely snapped at byakuya for making toko cry - leading to a pretty messy situation where byakuya had to go to the infirmary. syo isn't too keen on byakuya. at all.

makoto was one of the few people who took the time to understand toko, and consequently, syo. he didn't understand entirely, and sometimes still messes up with knowing who is who.

syo is also the only one who remembers why toko is afraid of water. they refuse to explain why, however.

toko is worried there are more alters that she's unaware of - if syo has been there for so long, who else may be there?

toko also worries that people prefer syo's more bubbly personality over hers

the most terrifying part of the disorder to toko, is not remembering anything. to syo, it's that people may try to take toko away because of something they did

if anything, toko is grateful for syo being there - though, she would never admit it

they also tend to communicate through letters and notes, typically because it's easier

#— WE'LL BE STARCROSSED LOVERS; JUST SAY YOU WANT ME #toko fukawa #touko fukawa #danganronpa #danganronpa ultra despair girls #danganronpa thh #danganronpa trigger happy havoc #trigger happy havoc #danganronpa headcanons #dr thh #dr thh spoilers #danganronpa spoilers #genocider syo #genocide jill #genocide jack

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letstrythisout4 · 2 months

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Chapter 4-Harry Potter and the Necromancer

Masterlist

Miracle Blake is not a morning person.

But she is an antisocial one.

Which is why she woke up at six-thirty, two hours and a half before classes started; despite her desire to rot in bed till the last minute. Her desire to not be around the girls when they woke up was stronger.

She rolled out of bed and crept over to the bathroom and got ready as silently as she could. She made the journey to the Great Hall, taking a seat as the bowl before her was filled with Froot Loops.

Nice, she thought to herself digging in. One of the many benefits of visiting Hogwarts before the year started was introducing herself to the elves that took care of the castle; it allowed her to let them know that she would really appreciate it if they could offer some standard American breakfast meals. Her request led to her spending hours explaining different meals she’d like, cooking and baking with the elves.

Finishing her meal, she wandered around, stopping every once in a while to chat with a painting.

She checked her watch and she had just enough time to make it to Divination if she ran. Miracle had been practicing Divination since she was old enough to speak and while she wasn’t a Seer like her grandmother, she did know how to use various methods of seeing into the future and peoples fates. So when she saw Trelawney crying out about death, illnesses and dreaded occurrences, she immediately wanted to drop the class. She had witnessed her grandmother have several visions and speak prophecies. And it was not….this.

This was nonsense.

She was ready to ignore the entire class, get the easy grade and leave; until that woman had the nerve to exaggerate the image of a Grim. That made Miracle rush down to where the class was staring at Harry and look into the boys cup.

“Hmm, it does actually look like a Grim.” she muttered in disbelief.

“I just said that-'' Trelawney said indignantly.

“A Grim doesn’t inherently mean that you’re going to die. Yes, it is an omen of death but it can mean a lot of things. The idea that it's just an omen of death is an ignorant assumption.” she explained side-eyeing Trelawney. “Honestly Harry, I wouldn't worry about it.” she said, looking at the boy who was trying (and failing) to keep a facade of ease.

When Harry caught up to her after Transfiguration, she knew what he wanted.

“Harry, mate, I get wanting answers but you don’t understand. My uncle Billius saw a Grim and died twenty-four hours later!” Ron said.

Ron Weasley, like 99 percent of the school, was scared of Miracle. He avoided eye contact with her as if he would drop dead if he looked at her. And he was not quiet about the fact that he thought she was a danger to the school. It was still the first day and she already heard him ranting about her twice.

As she was reminiscing on Rons’ attitude towards her, he and Hermione seemed to be debating how evil the Grim could be. Harry snapped at the two of them, finally asking out right what she knew about the Grim.

And she told him…enough.

She said that Grims were attracted to those who were going to die and those who were surrounded by death. The way his face feel when he realized she was talking about his parents, made Miracle wish she just kept her mouth shut. But what was done was done.

Better than him living in paranoia for no reason. She thought to herself as she went down to the Forest, but not without stopping to visit Hagrid.

“Afternoon, Hagrid! How ya’ doing?” she called out as she approached the man.

“Miracle, I’m doing well! What are you doin’ out here? ‘Ought to be in class” Hagrid asked standing from where he was crouched over some suspicious looking bug-like animals.

“Just heading down to the crypt, I have the afternoon off, I’ll leave you to work. Good luck on your first day.” she wished, smiling softly.

“You too.” the large man replied as she entered the Forest, just before the other third years arrived for their lesson.

The Forest was dark and overgrown, causing her to climb over roots and dodge low-hanging branches. She reached the crypt, going inside before calling out a “Good Afternoon.” to the spirits who hovered around. She dropped her bag on the floor, jumped up onto the counter sitting cross-legged in the center of the crypt and began meditating.

Her grandmother was big on meditation. “Meditate before your ritual.” “Meditate before contacting anything.” “Meditate before sleeping.” Leading to Miracle being well-practiced in it; she grounded herself, focusing on the magic of the forest, dead and most importantly herself.

She had become quite comfortable meditating in the crypt, it felt safe and right to her. Primarily because it was the only place on the grounds where she could let the dark magic that resided in her flow out freely. The wards kept the magic contained and really there wasn’t anything that the girl couldn’t do inside of these shields.

She sat and meditated, surrounded by the bodies. Deciding to call it a day, Miracle slid off of the counter and headed out of the building. At least she tried to, she was distracted from locking the crypts doors (unnecessary because of the wards but it felt weird to leave it open), at the sound of whining behind her. She turned around to see a skinny black dog in the distance, just outside of her wards.

No, not a dog. A Grim.

She dropped her keys and school bag, running to the edge of the wards and dropping to her knees beside the Grim. She ran her hands along its sides, distressed at how pronounced its ribs were and how matted its fur was. The Grim leaned into her touch, swaying on its feet. She picked him up (something that was far too easy) and brought him up the steps to her school bag. She fed him the bread and two bananas that she carried for a snack, as she assumed she would miss dinner. He inhaled the food, smacking his lips together and looking at her with thanks in his eyes.

“What happened to you?” she whispered, petting his head, allowing him to rest on her thighs. He couldn’t answer verbally but she always had an instinctual understanding of what Grims were thinking, but this one… this one was different. “You’re not just a Grim, are you?”

He snapped his head up to look at the witch. They stared at each other waiting for the other to make the first move. After a moment, he scrambled off of her lap, falling back and transforming into a man. Sirius Black.

Miracle jumped up, her magic bursting from the ground in the form of roots, wrapped itself around his ankles and wrists. The man, now bound and unable to move, raised his hands as much as he could, saying, “Whatever you’ve heard it’s not true.”

“Oh that’s comforting.” Miracle said, eyeing the man before her. He didn’t look crazy, he looked broken. “If what I’ve heard isn’t true, what is?”

He sank to the ground, crossing his legs, “It’s a long story.”

She sat on the stairs, mimicking his posture, “I have time.”

He rolled his eyes, “Oh really?”

“I’m giving you a chance to defend yourself, don’t be rude. I could just let the dementors have at you.”

He huffed a breath at that, “Very true.” He went silent, reminiscing on his life, eventually beginning his tale. “James Potter was my best friend, he was my brother.”

Miracle sat back sensing that this really was going to be a long story.

“He was my friend since the day we met on the Hogwarts Express. We had a small friend group, just four of us,” he hesitated. “One of the other two was Peter Pettigrew.” he spoke the name as if it pained him to think of the man.

“When the Potters went into hiding they wanted to make me their Secret-Keeper, the only person to know their location. But I-” his voice broke “ I told them to make it Pettigrew, nobody would ever assume it was him.” He took a deep breath, gaining confidence in his words, “He betrayed them. He betrayed Lily and James who took pity on him and protected him from the moment they met him. He betrayed them, gave their location to Voldemort and got them killed.”

Miracle went to speak but Sirius wasn’t finished, “I went to check on Peter that night, and his house was empty. I rushed back to where Lily and James stayed and the house was destroyed. Their bodies were cold, the smartest girl I knew beside Harry’s crib and the bravest and kindest man on the base of the stairs. His wand was nowhere near him” he took a breath, shaking his head “he wasn’t even armed. They were ambushed. The next day, I cornered the rat in London. He could tell I was going to kill him, he started to spew his lies and blew up the street framing me. I couldn’t stop laughing, I couldn’t control it, I was so mad.”

“And they threw you in Azkaban.” she stated.

“And they threw me in Azkaban.”

“No trial.”

“So you hate Dumbledore?”

He paused, “Excuse me?”

“Well Dumbledore was the face of the fight against Voldermort. He holds political standing in the Wizarding World, he could have fought for you. If he said anything opposed to your sentencing, he would have the backing of everyone now that he was a hero.”

He took in her words.

“I’d want to kill him if I were you, or at least make his life hell.”

“To be quite honest-” he started scratching his head, “I didn’t think about that.”

She hummed sympathetically. Quite impossible to think about anything when you’ve been surrounded by Dementors for twelve years. she thought. The fact that the man was able to string together proper sentences spoke to how strong his magic was.

“So… you believe me?” he asked.

Throughout the story she let her magic reach out to the wizard's mind as subtly as she could, she could always sense the intentions of Grims and not once in his tale did he lie.“Yeah, it makes sense. I heard the “official” report but I did some research and it made no sense for you to kill him.”

He nodded slowly.

“So what now? Why are you here?”

“Well I’m here because I could sense that something was in the crypt. Something that could help. I’m here at Hogwarts because Pettigrew is inside that castle.”

“Wait, inside of the castle?”

“My friends and I became Animagi while at Hogwarts, Pettigrew was a literal rat. A rat that is now owned by the Weasley boy.”

“...Ron has had that rat for years…Harry has been around the one responsible for his parents murder for two years?”

Sirius’ hands twitched at her words, “Don’t remind me. Why was I drawn to you?” he asked thoughtfully.

“Um well, do you remember the necromancer born the year before Harry in America?” she said.

He blinked at her. “That was you?”

“Yup. Miracle Blake, necromancer.” she introduced holding her hand out to him allowing for the roots she conjured to retreat to the Earth.

“Sirius Black, heir to the House of Black.” he replied formally.

“You’ll be able to do a lot with that level of status once your name is cleared.”

“My current concern is killing the rat, not exactly worried about Wizengamot.”

“You should be. First take care of the rat, then what? Continue to run for the law? No, no, you need to prepare to fight for a trial. You’re the heir to a Noble and Most Ancient House…you should be making everyone’s life hell. Those who escaped Azkaban, those who sent you to Azkaban. You have a lot of power to make sure that Voldemort doesn’t gain too much support” The words didn’t seem to fully reach the man so she decided to throw in, “A lot of power to support Harry.”

He looked at her strangely, “You really are a Dark Witch huh?”

“A lot of snark for someone who needs my help to get food and clean. Come on, let’s sneak you into the prefects’ bathroom.” she said, picking up her bag and locking the crypt up.

They took advantage of the students eating in the Great Hall, Miracle and Sirius -as a Grim- hustled to the fifth floor, where she whispered the password to the statue of Boris the Bewildered.

“How do you know the password?” Sirius asked, transforming as he slipped inside.

“I heard the prefects talking about it. Get clean, I’ll bring you some clothes and food.” she said walking away. She looked over her shoulder, “Don’t get caught.’

“Please I know these halls like the back of my hand.”

Miracle raced to the kitchen, making up some flimsy excuse as to why she missed dinner. The elves didn’t really care, they were more than happy to fill an absurdly large basket with food. They also didn’t question when she asked for some mens clothes, not even noticing when she said it was “for a friend”.

She hurried back to the bathroom and saw it slightly open with a hand poking out. “Way to not draw attention Sirius” she said, handing him his clothes.

“Thanks, Miracle.” he said, snatching up the clothes.

Miracle waited in the hall as he got dressed. When he finished they went to the Black Lake, barely missing the rush of students heading back to their dorms. They shared the food, watching the Giant Squid swim about.

“What’s it like to be a necromancer?” he asked, destroying the silence.

“Lonely.” She considered leaving it there but figured the man trusted her with so much, she may as well give him something in return. “The dead love me but well… their dead. And the living are scared. I like to talk to spirits but there’s only so much I can get from speaking to something I can only hear and see.”

“Speaking to ghosts is not quite unique, Blake.”

“Hilarious. I’m talking about spirits as beings. You’re talking about spirits as a category including poltergeist and ghosts etc. Spirits are voices I hear; sometimes whispers I can barely hear, sometimes they are clear as day. They're people I can see just as solid looking as you infront of me.”

“What else can you do?” the man asked before biting into a turkey leg the size of his head.

“I can summon and communicate with spirits. I can sense when death is coming for someone. Grims and Thestrals are trust me; hence why you came to me” she started picking at the grass before saying quietly, “I can control bones and bodies. When I was two three guys threatened my grandmother in front of me, I blinked and one of their bodies was on the floor and his Spirit was in front of me. The other two panicked and tried to run, the grass beneath them opened up and skeletons crawled out, chasing after them before dragging them kicking and screaming back into the opening. They took the dead body too.”

She jolted up, realizing she just confessed to a murder to a complete stranger. Sirius placed his hand on her shoulder, “You were two. You were threatened. You are a necromancer. I’d be shocked if you didn't react that way.” he said with a tone far too wise for someone in their thirties. “During the war, James and I became aurors. We did…a lot of terrible things to protect people. You will never find judgment in me when it comes to defending a loved one.”

They sat in silence, Sirius contemplating the information the young girl beside him trusted him with and Miracle considering the implications of 18-19 year old boys becoming aurors to fight in a war.

They went their separate ways as curfew approached, promising to meet at the crypt when all the students were at lunch the next day.

Miracle mentally planning how they should go about trapping the traitor.

Sirius, thinking past killing Peter for the first time in over a decade.

#harry potter #harry potter x oc #harry potter x reader #rubeus hagrid #sirius black #hermione granger #ron weasley

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fartenthusiastwriter · 2 years

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The Saga of Billy Boy Part 4 - The Reveal (2/2)

Will Clay be comfortable with Will having a potential arrangement with Frank? Is Will prepared to risk it? Check out the tags for featured kinks. If you need it, you can find part 1 here, part 2 here, and part 3 here.

- - - - -

I was sitting with Clay at our small dinner table, eating some Chinese takeout. Clay had spent most of the dinner complaining about his day, only taking breaks to drink his beer. Clay was nearing the end of his rant, but first he finished his third beer. “My boss can suck my ass if he thinks his expectations will ever be met.” With that, Clay finishes the last few bites of his food.

I was a much slower eater, so I still had a bit to eat. “I’m sorry your boss is such an asshole, babe. I’m sure he’ll see that the deadline is impossible.” I took a bite. I knew I needed to talk to Clay about Frank. I didn’t spend much time thinking about it at work since I needed to focus extra hard with Frank’s gas in the air. Despite the smells, I got a lot done.

I thought about it after work and decided I wanted to give it a shot with Frank. Which, of course, meant I needed Clay’s consent as well. But with the way Clay’s day went, I wasn’t sure I wanted to bring it up. And frankly, Clay was a bit drunk at this point. I wasn’t sure how he would respond.

“I’m gonna go ahead and lay down while you finish dinner.” Clay said as he rose and crossed over to me to give me a kiss. I knew he’d probably fall asleep before I even got to bed with all the food and alcohol in his stomach. I had to do this now.

I leaned in to kiss him, but grabbed his arm as we pulled away. “There’s something I wanted to talk to you about… It’s about the new intern, Frank.”

Clay suddenly had a sense of clarity in his eyes. “Did you just say Frank? Is the new intern Frank Radford?”

I stared at Clay for a couple of seconds, shocked. “...yes, he is. How would you know that?”

Clay blinked at me, almost confused. “You don’t remember? Frank is my trainer. You even met him once when we first started a year ago! I guess he didn’t have a beard back then and his hair was shorter. I knew he was in college for accounting, but I had no idea he applied for the internship.” Clay seemed to like Frank; he almost glowed speaking about Frank. “Do you work closely with him? You must know about his… condition right?”

“That’s actually something I wanted to talk to you about.” I started, suddenly feeling bashful discovering they know each other. “He has shared with me his condition, since we share an office. And he has shared other things…” I trailed off, worried about what was coming next. “Frank likes farting on guys. He saw my Grindr before we met and put the pieces together. He proposed potentially meeting up outside of work…” I decided nothing more had to be said. He knew I was asking for his permission.

Clay sat back down and was silent. I couldn’t read his face. He was obviously thinking, but I had no idea how he felt. Finally, Clay opens his mouth to tell a story. “It’s funny. I knew about Frank’s condition before I even agreed to have him as my trainer. I hesitated but he had tons of great reviews with wonderful results. And you’ve seen the weight I’ve lost working with him! So I still agreed.

“When I first saw him fart in front of me, at first it was kind of funny, until I smelled it. The stench was unbearable. It honestly made me think how perfect he would be to fuck around with you, but I never imagined then… Right after Frank farted, he told me that each session we’d set time goals for myself. Any workout that didn’t meet the goal meant Frank would fart in my face until I finished. I laughed at the time, thinking there was no way he was serious.

“We got through several workouts with all my goals met, until I got to sit-ups. My gut back then made sit-ups pretty difficult so I did them slowly. When my goal passed, Frank walked over and stood behind my head, looking down on me. I could barely see his face over his crotch, which was prominent in his tight shorts. Looking back with a modern lens, I think he had a semi. He said I knew this was coming and turned around and squatted right on my face, ripping a fart right up my nose. He moved to my knees and yelled UP. I rose to my knees with a fart on my arrival. Frank repeated this method until I completed my sit-ups. It was my last workout of the session.

“I remember getting in the showers, thinking about how disgusting it was. The smell was miserable and I felt like I was never going to get it out. But I needed to, because I already decided I didn’t want to tell you. If you knew my trainer was this gassy beast, I knew you’d want him and at the time, I was pretty sure he was straight. So it wasn’t exactly like I could arrange things.

“That training and any other training I didn’t meet my goal was miserable. Over time, Frank became more aggressive with our goals and aggressive with his behavior. He loved using humiliating language while farting to help build my adrenaline. It was awful, but it made for really great workouts. I got better and better at meeting increasingly difficult goals.

“And I always thought back to you. I hated the treatment, but from what you’ve said, you would’ve been in heaven. Part of the reason I endured was to try and get to know Frank better and see if maybe there was some way he’d be into it since he did seem to really enjoy the training.”

Clay grabbed my hands and looked at me lovingly. “Willy, I say all this to say, if you’re comfortable having that relationship with him and still performing your work, I absolutely think you should give it a try. I love you and I want you to have all the fun you can. It seems like he can really give you what you want.”

I smile warmly. “Thank you, Clay. I love you, too.” I lean in and kiss him. “If I ever feel like my job is suffering from it, I’ll break it off.”

“I know you’ll do what’s best, babe.” Clay caressed my cheek. “Do you wanna go lay down?”

“That sounds great.” I replied.

“Great!” Clay exclaimed as he rose from his chair. I started to rise but he put a hand on my head. “I have a fun idea for bed.” Clay said with a bit of a smirk. With that, Clay turned around and pulled my face into his ass and blasted a fart in my face. “Sniff it.” Clay commanded.

I sniffed and sniffed, shocked by his behavior.

“My dinner and beer has me incredibly gassy. I think I’m drunk enough to give you the kind of teasing you like. You wanna come lay under my ass in bed and smell it’s bed talk” Clay proposed flirtatiously.

Those drinks really must be messing with him. But I’m diving in this time. I answer by digging my face into his ass and giving a big sniff.

“Good boy.” Clay said. “Go get the bed ready and get in position.”

I go into the bedroom. By 'get the bed ready', Clay means get the leg prop he uses for yoga that also allows him to comfortably expose his ass while laying down, giving me a perfect spot to put my face. It was my idea that we had done one other time.

I get it ready and in position. Clay enters in only his light blue briefs. His junk and ass both look magnificent. He gets into bed, putting his legs on the prop, and adjusting as he pushes his ass into my face as much as possible. A loud wet fart unleashes and I start sniffing immediately.

“That one sounded terrible. You better sniff louder so I don’t smell it.”

I follow his command. He farts several more times with similar teasing that slowly subsided. I could tell Clay was getting sleepy. But the relaxation of his body just meant even more gas was coming out of him. I decided to get comfortable and keep sniffing his sleepy gas. Eventually I fell asleep to his ass fumes.

- - - - -

That night I dreamt I was in a gym. I am facing a machine Clay is sitting at, with Frank yelling at him to keep pushing. I look around and see several gym goers using various machines. All incredibly muscular with sexy asses. I look back to Frank and Clay and notice I’m much shorter. I seem to be height with Frank’s ass once again.

Frank is squatting in front of Clay. “You can do it, man. Just a few more reps!” Frank encourages as a fart erupts from his ass. Frank and Clay both look down at me.

“Shouldn’t you be doing your part, bitch?” Clay said. I hear a couple of men nearby laughing.

“Get your face in my ass, Billy Boy” Frank said, grabbing my head and pulling it in. I sniffed deeply to get the lingering fart. Frank, Clay and several other men start laughing. I see some of the other men coming over. “Okay Billy Boy, I know my ass is home, but it’s time to help some of the other men.” He pulls me out and shoves me on the ground toward them “I need some alone time with your man.” He added.

Four muscular men approached me as two of them picked me up. They immediately shove my head in a third one’s ass. “Sniff this up, boy!” He said as he grunted and released a nasty fart all over my face. The four men laugh as I loudly sniff up the fart. I’m quickly moved to a different ass and the process repeats. The men die laughing as I sniff up fart after fart.

“Point him over here!” I hear Frank yell. I’m removed from the most recent farting ass and turned to see Frank and Clay. But they aren’t working out anymore. They’re naked, making out. But as I look closer I realize Frank is fucking Clay. And Clay looks more turned on than I’ve ever seen. Clay and Frank see me looking and they start to laugh at me along with the other four men.

The men throw me on the ground and surround my head. They squat, surrounding my nose with their four now bare asses. The last thing I remember is a barrage of farts.

- - - - -

Find out what happens when Will tells Frank in Part 5!

#gay fart story #gay farts #gay butt #eproctophilia #gay fart dream #cuck

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mrneighbourlove · 5 months

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Glass Love and Desire: Ch 2. Return to Home

A week went by with Malakath healing his injured body. He took his medicine for the first few days, then added workouts, physically getting in shape again. Soon he’d have to practice his pyro kinesis again.

Chione had been keeping a close eye on Mally. On the following day, when she had found him trying to do push ups with an injured arm, she had chided him severely, and somehow managed to convince him to wait another day. The second day, there was no stopping him, so Chione sighed exasperatedly and informed him if he made it worse, she was not fixing his arm again. Yet, it was an empty threat. The third day, Mally seemed like he was bored and wanted something to do. Chione put him to work, showing him how to pull weeds out of her garden. Mally had balked at first, scowling and giving a small rant in his own language. She did not relent and thrust the basket into his hands, insisting he pull weeds if he wanted something to do. He sulked at first, but then pulled up the weeds with her.

Half the week had passed. The fourth day, Chione had found him looking through some of her books. She did not have many, most were about plants, but a few were on Naran culture. When Mally would point to a figure, she would give him the word in her tongue. He seemed especially interested with the pages about Daidan Drakes, eagerly pointing to the giant reptiles and then a map. Chione supposed he wanted to know where the drakes lived. The botanist could not help but laugh at his boy-like wonder over the drakes, but there was no chance she was pointing out where the reptiles lived on the map. A drake could swallow him whole! Drakes were not pets. The fifth day, Chione dragged Melly into the kitchen with her. She was trying to show him how to make fresh bread. He stood there, confused, until she showed him to beat and knead the dough. Once again, her efforts were met with a bit of protests, until she pointed sharply at the dough. Yet, he seemed to enjoy beating the dough like it was a punching bag. After the sweet bread came out of the brick oven, Chione offered him a piece with homemade jam. She wondered if he ever had jelly bun before as fast as he ate the treat. It was rather cute.

The sixth day was a bit different. Mally kept trying to walk to the river, and for a moment, Chione thought he would return to Nuabi's homeland under the water. Yet, it seemed he just wanted to take a bath. She had tried to keep him as clean as possible, but ultimately, she understood the desire to have a relaxing bath. When he suddenly stripped with intention to show off his body, Mally had stood there, almost like he was a preening peacock in the Patriarch's Palace. Chione was no stranger to a male's body and sat there on the bank, waiting for him. Yet, Mally was not having that. No, he had splashed her with the water, earning an outraged squeal from the botanist, before he tried to drag her into the river. Chione ended up dunking him under the water and scowling since her clothes and hair were soaked. Later, the smug man kept pointing to his hair and holding out a comb to Chione. Grumbling, the Nara took the comb and worked out the tangles in his hair before braiding it, calling him an insufferable brat the entire time, saying he was lucky he was still healing.

Now, Mally was almost healed. It was shocking to see his arm recover from being broken so fast, but then again, she assumed water sprite biology was different than botanist. As Mally proceeded to test his body's strength again, Chione sat on a bench nearby and sliced the fresh mangoes from the trees she grew.

Malakath had enjoyed some of his time here. Whole house work was normally beneath him, it did help him gain his strength back. More so, he was becoming more and more enamoured with Chione. She was a fine specimen of a woman in his eyes. Yet, he was still frustrated by a few things. First off, no one had seemingly come to find him. Yes, they were on foreign lands to hunt down Waku that spread out like weed's roots, but he was a prince. He was sure his father was frantic in finding him. Or at the very least his sister.

But perhaps that was the point. Was his defeat a weakness they couldn’t stomach? Perhaps his twin would take advantage of that to have the throne for herself.

Even if his family wasn’t looking, what about the army? Not knowing this foreign land wasn’t an excuse. They should have at least followed the river.

Then there was the language barrier between himself and Chione. All this care and attention and he couldn’t even hold a conversation. Sure they had communicated well with physical gestures and common sense, but Malakath wanted to speak to her openly. Although, it did, for now, have one advantage. He could speak plainly to her about anything with a straight face and he was sure she didn’t understand.

Grabbing the mango, he bit a large chunk of it. “I wonder if your lips are sweeter than this fruit.”

"Hungry again? I never knew Nuabi's children could have such appetites." Chione watched as he eagerly ate the mango. Peeling another, the botanist was usually careful with the knife as she sectioned the fruit into pieces. Yet, this time, her grip slipped from the juices and she managed to cut her index finger. Hissing softly, Chione shook her hand and then noticed the blood. "Damn it."

Malakath watched the blood closely. He found himself frowning at her pain. Wait, why should he care? He was a prince. Yet he did. Walking forward, he grabbed her hand, then held her finger.

“Hold still.”

Focusing intently, he allowed his fire to gently laser in from his palm into the cut. There was a warmth from a source she couldn’t see, but a bright yellow glow like the sun came out from his clenched hand. When he was done, he let go and her finger had stopped bleeding.

It looked as if her finger had been gently cartelized. Malakath let out a breath once he was done. “I believe that should suffice.”

"What are you doing?" Chione asked as he took her hand in his, inspecting her cut finger. She noted him frowning and staring at the blood. A small cut like this was not enough to maim her. Mally was acting as if she was terribly injured. It was rather endearing. "I'll be okay, it's just a cut---what?!"

The Naran woman was shocked when she felt his touch grow warm. The yellow radiating from his touch was unexpected. Yet, she did not pull away, too stunned to do so. As Mally released her hand, Chione did not realize he had fire magic, but rather thought it was some sort of healing technique. Her flesh looked slightly different around the cut, but it did not hurt. Perhaps this was why he could not heal himself, he was too weak, but now, his power had returned?

Blinking, Chione looked at her finger, curious, "How did you do that?"

“I am a prince. A lord of fire.” Malakath saw her point at her finger and assumed she wanted an explanation. He would reveal himself fully, he felt the power coming back to him. “Behold and witness me.”

Stepping back, he raised both hands into the air. Breathing the hot air around him and feeling the heat of the sun, he channeled and showed off an incredible display of fire. Rising high into the clouds, a tower of fire burned, a beacon of his power. With some alterations, he had it spread out to look like a Phoenix. Fitting, seeing he felt reborn.

Whoever Mally was, he most certainly was not a child of Nuabi, the water goddess. Startled, Chione stood up from her bench and backed away from the man, dropping her basket of fruit and peeling knife. What was this?! Was he a demigod? A fallen deity? A powerful magician? Answers eluded Chione for now, but she was more focused on not being turned into a pile of ash. While Mally had not threatened her before, she could not help but be cautious now.

Malakath stopped his display, all the flames dissipating. When he saw her reaction, he frowned. Was she afraid? She should be in awe! Stepping forward, he held out a hand. “You have nothing to fear from me.”

Chione glanced at him, and then at his hand. The botanist still felt a little unsure. Though, she supposed logic would argue if he wanted to hurt her with such fire, Mally could have potentially done so earlier. Slowly, Chione extended her hand to take his, still cautious, but also curious. She looked at his palm and then turned it over to look at the top of his hand. Where did the fire come from? Did he just... summon it from nowhere? While the Nara was initially a little frightened, her inquisitiveness was also getting the best of her. If this man was not a child of Nuabi... what was he?

"What are you?" Chione knew he could not understand her, but still voiced her questions. "... who are you?" Surely someone with such power was of great importance. Even so, what force could have washed him up at her doorstep in such a terrible state? "Are you a child of Atanna? Part of the blazing sun?"

He held her hand, another reaching to hold her by her shoulder. “I’m sure you’re fascinated by me. How I wish I could speak to you.”

Malakath felt his groin area burn looking at her. She was gorgeous and it was becoming harder and harder for him to deny. “In some ways it’s been nice the way you‘ve treated me without knowing who I am. There’s an honesty in that. But I’m selfish I suppose. I want you to know who I am. I want to know more about you.”

Was Mally trying to assure her with his hand upon her shoulder? It was a simple gesture, but a sweet one from such a powerful man. Chione gave Mally a soft smile as he spoke, not understanding, but figuring there were words of reassurance. Perhaps she could obtain a partial answer in regards to his fire magic.

"Atanna?" Chione pointed to the sun, trying to mimic being hot by waving her face. "You're a child of the sun? The fire in the sky?"

“Atanna?” Was that a god? He pointed to the sun and all around him. “My people were crafted by a God called Exodrum. The Father of Fire and Power. I am an avatar of power.” He pointed at himself. “I am a Hasai.”

"Ha... sa... e?" Chione had never heard of such a name before. How could clarify the meaning? Was it the name of his people? Or the name of his divine parents? She thought for a moment, then spoke. "Nara." She gestured to herself, making sure to note her horns and tail for emphasis, and then to him. "Hasai?"

At last. He had a name for her people. Assuming she wasn't a unique one of a kind. His hand went down her shoulder to around her waist. With his other hand, he gestured towards her horns. "A Nara. Hasai don't have horns. May I feel them? I'm curious by the texture."

"Nara, yes." It appeared Mally understood what she was trying to insinuate. "We are the descendants of Daidan, the first drake to rule the desert and his lover, the sorceress, Aliyah."

The sudden touch on her hip nearly caused her to jump. Chione was not expecting him to touch her so casually. Being a... Hasai, Mally left no thoughts to personal boundaries, did he? Maybe this was normal in his culture. Then once more, the man motioned to her horns and Chione turned slightly red. This was going to be harder to explain.

She tried her best, "Sensitive. Um..." Chione remembered how he grabbed her tail. She motioned to her tail, then to her horns with a bit of a flustered face. "Sensitive. Like my tail, okay?"

Was she blushing? Malakath felt a sense of pride. Of course she was. He was a specimen of his man and he would be well suited and cared for in his hands. Grinning like a scoundrel, he put on a polite face. "I'll be careful."

Gently, his hand went to her horn.

"Rrrrrrrrhhhhrrrrhnnnmmm." Chione could not suppress the purr rumbling up from her throat when Mally suddenly touched her curved horn. It was almost an automatic reaction from the pleasurable sensation. Snapping back to her senses, a shade the color of blood flooded her cheeks as she removed Mally's hand from her horn. "I told you my horns are sensitive, okay?"

Malakath was stunned by the *noise* that came out of her. All the bravado sucked out of him. Stepping back, he gulped down that insecurity. He then turned side ways, hoping she wouldn’t know his growing ‘Royal Rod’. “That was some reaction.”

"Oh, I'm not growling at you!" Chione noticed his surprised expression, and apologized. "It's just... a Nara's horns and tail are very sensitive, okay? It's an... erogenous zone." She wanted to smack herself. Sighing, the flustered botanist ran a hand down her face, hiding the blush. "I'm trying to explain this to you and you can't even understand me."

Taking a few breaths to calm himself down, he pointed to the outside world. “I can walk. I want you to show me where I am. Can you do that?”

"... you want to walk around?" Chione was grateful he was changing the subject per se. "Sure, we can do that."

Malakath strode out towards the smell of the river, not having a worry in the world.

"Is there something you want to see here?" Chione asked, noting him looking out over the river. "Be careful. I don't want to have to fish you out of the water again."

Malakath looked around, trying to see if there were any high peaks he could look from. “There has to be other Hasai around. I’m sure of it.”

"Are you looking for someone?" Chione noticed him glancing about the landscape. Was he trying to... figure out where he was? Maybe he did not know. She did live on the outskirts of the kingdom's capital. Maybe if she showed him on a map, he would have a better idea of where he was. "Here," Chione always took a map with her when gathering plants. It was easier to mark where spots were for gathering Kamazu plants or others for selling at the market. Opening her map, the Nara pointed to the river upon it. "Aaru. Aaru River."

Map seemed to be the size of the country. Or at least the territory. He gestured his arms out to have a larger size. “I need bigger.”

"A world map?" Chione noticed the gesture of his arms indicating he wanted a larger view. "I'm sorry. I don't think I have one, but..." She picked up a stick and started to draw in the mud from the riverbank. Firstly, Chione outlined the shape of Al-Daidan. Then, she etched Danjur. After that, she drew the borders which met her home of Omisha and Malus. Labrynna and Hyrule were last. Though, the writing was in her language. So, Chione did her best to clarify for Mally. "Al-Daida. Omisha. Malus. Danjur. Labrynna. Hyrule."

Malakath watched closely. He had names now for every country on the continent! So much territory! So much land outside the empire. And there it was. He pointed to a beach that was right on the border of Omisha and Al-Daida. “This is where we made landfall tracking the traitors. I was able to travel inland, to this jungle top. I must have fallen into the river here, and traveled all the way… here. To you.”

"Oh... here? The Kemet Beach?" Chione recalled the beautiful beaches with black sand. She tried to think of how many days it would take to get to that location from her home. The Nara held up three fingers, hoping he would understand. "Three days."

Three days? Or three weeks. Either way, the prince frowned at the information. Was that by mount? Or by *walking*? The thought disgusted him. Nevertheless, that was his reality. “I suppose we have quite the journey then.”

"Kemet Beach," Chione marked the spot Mally had indicated. She tapped her feet with the stick and imitated walking, following the river. Then once more, she held up three fingers. "Three days by foot."

Though, it begged the question, why did he want to go there? Nonetheless, if Mally deserved to leave, he was free to do so. Chione glanced upward at the sky and noticed the angle of the shadows. It was time to go to the markets! She had to hurry to set up her stall or her customers would be most dissatisfied.

She told Mally, "I need to go to work now. It's time to sell my plants." This would be difficult to explain. Well, it was best to make use of the riverbank's mud while she was here. The Nara jotted a picture of the market, and her selling plants. It was noticeable that the figure was her, due to her curved horns. Then motioned to herself. "I need to go to work."

“You need to help me.” Malakath pointed to himself, then her. He then realized something. Grabbing a stick, he drew a crown in the sand. He then pointed at himself more confidently. “I am royalty. You will be greatly rewarded for your time spent helping me.”

"You... want to see the Patriarch?" Chione blinked at the drawing of a crown, misunderstanding his meaning completely. She drew a Nara with long, angular horns underneath the crown, and gave Mally a look of puzzlement. "Patriarch of the Nara? I doubt he'll see you. He won't see us common folk."

Yes! She was finally clueing into who she was! “Yes! I’m royalty! I’m Prince Malakath! Come on, we can leave now!”

"...?" Chione heard him say his own name and then gesture to the crown. Wait, was he saying he was a noble? Perhaps the Hasai were demigods and lived a mortal life, even with such power. When Mally gestured to the beach again, the realization finally struck Chione of what he wanted. "Wait, you want me," She gestured to herself, "To take you," She then pointed to the spot on her crudely drawn map. "To Kemet Beach?"

The prince nodded his head with a great amount of enthusiasm “Yes! You know the land! You will be my guide!”

Chione busted out laughing at his enthusiasm to travel to Kemet Beach. At his expression of displeasure, the Nara uttered one word with a shake of her head.

"No." Chione shook her hand in dismissal. "No, no way. There's drakes, crocodiles, and venomous snakes along the river and I don't have a boat. There's no way I'm walking there."

Malakath had certainly learned what her word was for ‘no’ over the week. He took her hand again. “I can’t afford to wait. I need to go to my people now. They need me.”

"Crocodiles." Chione etched the reptile in the mud alongside a huge drake. Then, she shook her head once more. This was the only way to get him to understand. He seemed sincere, but she was not taking him into a death trap of a landscape. "Drakes. Not safe."

“I’ve killed Dragons.”

"Are you really that insistent upon going?" Chione sounded exasperated.

This was going to be difficult. She tried to think of a way to get him there without the river. There were sand rays, but that was a long shot. Sand rays were really picky about who they allowed upon their backs to be carried across the desert. Not to mention, sand rays required a token for their efforts. What could she offer?

Touching the jingling adornment one horn, it was all the jewelry Chione had left. Her family was gone. It was just her now. To part with it was nearly an unbearable thought. Sand rays adored shiny trinkets and she was sure it would be accepted. But... if Mally had to go, she could not deny him. After all, with that kind of power, he had to be someone important. Perhaps his Hasai deity would look upon her with favor.

It appeared she would not make it to the market today. The desert was just a short walk away from her own humble abode. Chione silently motioned for Mally to come with her. Returning to her home, she packed him a bag full of food to last the journey. Instead of three days, the sand rays could get him there in one. Once she was finished, she urged Mally to follow.

Malakath was pleased by this course of action. She was doing the correct thing in helping her. Once she was prepared, he followed her lead. Like it or not, she had part of his safety in her hands.

It was an odd structure to approach. There was a set of stone stairs leading to nowhere in the beginning of the vast desert. Chione stood still for a moment, taking in the surroundings. Then, she whistled as loudly as she could. A few minutes passed, but she waited patiently. It was only when the ground started rumbling horribly that she noted Mally's alarm.

"It's okay! It's okay!" Chione assured him. It was not long before the sand ray rose from the ground with a deafening echo emitting from its mouth. As the massive sand ray urged from the desert, Chione quickly knelt on the stairs to nowhere. Tugging Mally's shirt insistently, she nearly dragged him down as well. Sand rays were noble creatures, back from the times of the ancient nomadic days of her people. It was an incredible creature, larger than most dragons, but docile to most.

The gargantuan sand ray stared at Chione with those black eyes and then at Mally. It was waiting to see who summoned him. Taking off the adornment from her horn, she held it in her upturned palms as an offering with her head slightly bowed. She made sure to speak with the most elegance she could muster.

She asked, "Please, oh guardian of the desert, will you take my friend, Mally, to Kemet Beach? I believe there are some like him there and he wishes to return home. I offer you this trinket, adorned with black opals, as a tribute for his passage."

The sand ray clicked in response, eyeing the horn adornment. Pleased with the offering, the sand ray then extended one of its long whiskers to grasp the jewelry. Then, in a flash of an eye, it had absorbed the minerals from the gold and opal. To the sand rays, precious gems or jewels were a source of energy. Then, the beast lowered its head so Mally could walk onto his body.

Malakath watched in wonder at the creature. As he walked on, he turned to Chione, offering a hand. “Come on. We need to continue forward.”

As Mally extended his hand, Chione gave a sad smile and shook her head. It was rather sweet that he wanted her to come, but she could not. She held up one finger, then pointed to her horn, then to him. The trinket was only good for passage for one.

"I'm sorry," Chione gave a soft wave to him as the sand ray started to move. "But this is where we part ways. If you come back to Al-Daida again, come by to see me. I'll miss your company."

Malakath stared like a reptile, his gaze eying the gem she sacrificed to the creature. Was that what was required? A trinket?

Looking at his hand, the prince pulled off a Ruby ring that had been given to him by his father as a gift for his 18th birthday. He could simply get another one. He walked forward and placed it in her hand. “Use this. Come with me.”

"...?! What? No, no, no, this is yours!" Chione protested, not wanting to sacrifice the ring to the sand ray. If a Hasai was part of a divinity, even a small chance, it would not be right to take such a precious token from him! "I'll have to find a way back. It would be useless for me to go with you---hey!!!"

When Mally yanked her onto the sand ray, she saw the whisker take the brilliant ruby and break down the gem for energy. Well, so much for protesting. The stubborn man just had to get his way, didn't he? Chione gave him a brief look of annoyance before sitting down on the sand ray. She gave the immense beast's head a pat as it rumbled in appreciation. At first, the creature simply shifted through the desert dunes, getting a bit faster and faster... until with a giant flap of its wings, it started to soar through the sky.

Malakath watched in wonder as the creature took off through the sky! It was a marvelous feeling to have the air through his hair and hit his skin. Spreading his arms out, he laughed in triumph. “Yes! I’m king of the world!”

"Seems like you're enjoying your first time on a sand ray." Chione snickered a little at his awe of flying throughout the desert sky. Though, it was not a good idea to stand for too long. Gently, she tugged on his pant leg, indicating he needed to sit. "Brace yourself. When they land to get more speed, it will be bumpy."

Malakath took his seat beside her, his grin looking almost radiant. “Chione. This is magnificent.”

He found himself staring into her eyes, a little longer than normal.

"Ramlah Rayan." Chione patted the sand ray underneath her hand, speaking in her native tongue. It was what Mally heard as she spoke due to the language barrier. She was trying to tell him what the beautiful and majestic sand rays were called. "I loved to watch them in their flocks when I was small. You should wait and see when many of them travel together. Leaping and twirling, playing like kids."

Malakath found himself just liking the sound of her voice. Was soothing, like glass he supposed. He nodded along, eying the way her hair flowed through the wind.

It only took a few hours via sand ray to arrive at the other side of the desert. Kemet Beach had black sand from the nearby volcanic mountains which surrounded the Malus border. It was a lovely landscape, providing rich fertile grounds to the borders of Omisha as well. Stopping at another stairway to nowhere, the sand ray waited patiently while Mally disembarked. Chione soothed the sand ray with a few words of praise, asking it to stay nearby so she could have passage back home.

Stepping off gracefully, Malakath took Chione’s hand. “I suppose thanks are in order.”

"Yes, this is Kemet Beach," Chione assured Mally as she carefully took his hand to steady her steps while dismounting the sand ray. "This is where you wanted to come, right?"

Malakath looked at the sand she pointed out. He had certainly received reports of black sand, but had not seen this area himself. The location his ships made landfall on were full of yellow sand, not black. He walked around, scanning for signs of his people. “There has to be someone nearby…”

Taking a breath, he looked to the sky and raised his hands. Once again, he fired a pillar of fire into the sky. The flames burned brightly and acted as a prime beacon. As his flames fizzled out, he took a deep breath, glancing back at Chione as he took a seat. “I suppose we’ll just have to wait.”

Once more, Chione was amazed by the beautiful display of fire. Yet, she then noticed the crackling underneath Mally's feet. Excited, she tugged at his arm and gestured to the striking glass forming with streaks of colorful sand.

"Look! Look!" Chione bent down to observe the formation of glass, which was speckled with the various colors of black sand. "Isn't it beautiful? This can also happen when lightning strikes sand. It takes its own shape unless molded by careful hands. This is very expensive, all the nobles have a piece."

Looking down, Malakath's eyes widened. Sand meeting fire, of course! For someone of his talents, he could craft whatever he chose! Perhaps, a gift was in order.

Motioning her to step back, he fired a stream of fire at the sand. Carefully, and it took a few attempts, the end result was a necklace made of glass. Picking it up, Malakath could feel that it was fragile as it was dazzling, but it would hold its form as long as it wasn’t dropped. “Here. For you.”

"... you want me to take this?"

Chione carefully took the crafted glass and stared at the marvel of such a fine piece of jewelry. There were no precious gemstones or gold embedded into it, but nevertheless, it was still beautiful. Though, she mistook the purpose of the piece. Chione thought it was a head piece instead of a necklace. So, she took one end and attached it to the left horn and then the right, a small section of the necklace drooping over her forehead. Horn adornments were very popular in Naran culture, as a way to show off and to signal status. The more adornments, the richer the individual.

Malakath watched in wonder as she placed it upon her forehead. She made her own intent behind beauty. “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone, even a Hasai, as beautiful as you my dear.”

"Thank you for the horn piece," Chione knew that a sign of thanks in Naran culture was to briefly touch heads. Females were usually gentler with approach, rubbing foreheads for a moment or so, while males were more heartier, maybe even a headbutt for those who were close. She did not think it would be a good idea to suddenly do this without knowing his people's customs. The last thing she wanted to do was offend. So, she could only smile as a token of thanks for the time being. "I'll be sure to wear it as often as I can."

Malakath looked around, spotting a good tree that could shelter them from the elements. “I’m going to set up a place for us to camp for the night. It shouldn’t be too long I hope until we see other Hasai.”

Nightfall at Kemet Beach was quite a scene to witness. The setting sun made the black sand sparkle with an iridescent light. Yet, since the beach was in proximity to the desert, the temperature was rather cold. Sitting in front of the fire, Chione really wished she had brought better clothes from her modest home. Then again, she really had not planned on accompanying Mally to Kemet Beach.

Turning the fish, Chione checked to see if the meal was done and then offered the largest one to Mally. When he stared at it, the botanist then took another fish roasting over the fish and eagerly bit into it. The flavor was wonderful.

For a treat, she had gathered a few coconuts from the surrounding palm trees. Now, that had been an amusing event. Mally had been ready to throw a fireball at one of the fruits, but Chione climbed the tree with ease. She was not sure if his sudden strident words had been from concern or surprise. With her strength, it was no feat for her to climb the tree nor to open the coconuts. The Nara simply bashed two of the coconuts to split the fruit in half.

Rubbing her arms, the Nara inched slightly closer to the fire. While she could tolerate extreme temperatures from the desert, the cold at night was not exactly kind.

Malakath was doing his best to not visibly shiver from the cold. His homeland didn’t have cold nights like these, so frigid and cold. Yet he would not look weak in front of Chione.

He kept the fire going, making it blaze bright with a snap of his fingers every once in a while. Looking to the Nara, Malakath flexed a smile. “It’s amazing you live in a country with cold nights like these.”

"Thank you for stoking the fire again," Chione offered Mally another fish and piece of the coconut. "At least the trees block a bit of the wind."

Malakath looked around, staring up at the stars. He liked to imagine he could feel the heat, even with them so far away. Scooting closer to Chione, the Ocho scratched his chin. "I wonder how much your people would be open to becoming part of the empire."

Chione noticed Mally staring at the sky. Was he looking at the constellations? Taking a small piece of driftwood, the Nara staring outline some of the stars. Then, she connected the stars to show the various constellations in the sky.

"Daiden the Drake. Aliyah the Sorceress." Chione named each for Mally. "Amek, the Mother of All. Temsah the Great Jaws of the River."

Was she pointing out constellations? Malakath supposed he could do the same. He pointed upwards, pointing at other stars. "Ghidorat, the Great Destroyer. Mothberra, the Cosmic Flame. Both in tandem, flying in each other's path."

Gently, his free hand reached out to grab hers.

"My father was an astronomer, and my mother sold flowers." Chione knew he could not understand her, but it still felt nice to talk. "He once gave my mother a piece of a fallen star as a gift. We buried her with it. Then I buried him with the piece of her horn." It made her sad to think of her parents. "I'm their only child, so... I miss them. But sometimes, when I look at the sky, I think they're still there. Watching from the heavens."

When Mally took her hand, Chione gave it a soft squeeze.

Malakath looked to see her expression soften. Her eyes seemed different, filled with remembrance. Something lost perhaps? When she squeezed back, he spoke gently to her. “I wish you would come with me. I know that every motion you’ve made has been one of kindness to help me, yet you seem content staying here. I could provide so much more for you.”

"It'd be nice if we could understand each other," Chione laid back on the leaves she had gathered earlier to use as bedding. "Maybe one day. Come, you need to rest." She patted the spot beside her. "Let's sleep."

Malakath eyed the spot beside her. Walking over and lying down, he took a breath and waited for her to lie beside him.

"I hope you sleep well." Chione slept curled up, with her knees to her chest. Most Naras slept this way to conserve heat at night. It was not long before she was snoozing peacefully.

Malakath watched her slowly shiver. She shouldn’t have had to be like this. Carefully, he wrapped his arm around her, providing body heat to the Nara.

“You’ll be okay.”

The early morning sunrise caused Chione to stir lightly. She did not want to get up yet, even though there was work to be done. Her herbs and flowers needed to be watered and weeds needed to be pulled. True, she did miss market day, but the botanist could always sell some goods to the local apothecary. Comfortable, Chione purred slightly at the warmth, not wanting to move, and snuggled further into the source. In her half-asleep mind, she had forgotten about being at Kemet Beach.

Malakath was in deep sleep, perfectly content as he rested. His body had naturally spooned Chione, holding her closely, his arm still comfortably around her.

Talking. Who was talking? Chione grumbled softly and started to blink open her sleepy eyes... when she saw men with weapons in front of the extinguished campfire. Alarmed, the Nara jumped to her feet, nearly tripping over Mally in the process. These men resembled Mally's race, but were a different color. When they brandished their weapons at her, Chione hissed, on edge at their sudden appearance. What did they want?!

One of them stepped forward, grabbing Chione by the foot and dragging her away. As she hissed and roared in defiance, the albino skinned soldiers pressed an ax to her throat.

Just as another raised a blade to strike her down, he was suddenly kicked away by Malakath.

“Away you fools!!! I command it! Lay a hand on her and you won’t see another sun!”

The other soldiers were quick to obey, fast to back away from the Nara. Once he felt that they were going to stay in line, Malakath walked over to her, helping her up on her feet. “Are you okay?”

Chione yowled when one of the guards dragged her, kicking him in the balls. When the other suddenly put the weapon to her throat, she froze, leaning her head back in the sand as far as she could away from the blade. Had she come all this way to die?! As Mally saved her from being hacked to pieces, Chione was still on edge, her tail spiked and her eyes narrowed. These men seemed to listen to Mally, but she did not trust them not to hurt her. Taking his hand, Chione got to her feet, and peeked over at the intruders, standing very close to Mally. It was obvious the Nara was frightened. Her tail curled around his leg tightly to prevent him from running off as she tried not to tremble.

"Soldiers. They're my soldiers." Malakath held her shoulders, rubbing them to calm her down. Bloody Skurge. Loyal Hasai, perhaps to a fault. He turned his gaze back to them. "And I'll ram my fist through the face of any who dare harm her."

"And who is she, that she's so important?"

The prince turned his gaze to who would dare speak in such a term. His eyes widened when another Ocho rode towards him on the back of a Griffon. "Sister?"

The Hasai Princess had green skin like her brother, except her hair was black with white streaks. Unlike her brother, she was adorned in fully battle armour, with arm bands that had emeralds in them. Her mount stared daggers at Malakath and Chione, ready to strike if given the command.

"Indeed. I must say I'm... happy, to see that you are alive, Malakath."

The prince cleared his throat, and stood up straight. Sure she was. She had a duty to look for him and bring him back home, but if he had died on this journey, that would only help her own plans as future Empress. "It is good to see family."

Turning to Chione, the prince gestured to his sister. "Chione. This is Princess Silvia. My twin sister." The prince made a motion that he and her were bonded together. "Silvia, this is Chione. She is a local that helped save my life and nursed me back to health. I would be greatly upset if anything happened to her."

Mally was trying to soothe her, Chione understood this. His words had a reassuring tone. Yet, Chione was still quite spooked from the incident. While her tension eased slightly, she stayed glued to Mally's side, eying the guards with disdain. When the woman on the griffon approached, Chione noticed the similarities between her and Mally. The beast did not seem happy nor did the lady. Who was she? Was this woman his family?

As Mally gestured to the woman and then himself, Chione hesitantly leaned forward a little and gave a few sniffs. Yes, his scent was similar to hers. The two had to be siblings. Yet, the woman had a radiating aura of malice. While Chione did not like her, she was being cordial for Mally's sake. She did not want anything negative with weapons to start again. When Mally spoke her name a few times, she tried the foreign title on her tongue.

"Sil... vi... ah." Chione repeated after him, asking for clarification if she was pronouncing his sibling's name properly. "Mally. Sil-vi-ah?"

“That’s good Chione. Silvia.”

“Mally? You pick up a pet Malakath?” The prince frowned, holding onto Chione protectively. Seeing that this was a subject to not be poked at, Silvia pointed to a boat pulling up by the shore. “Father wants to see you back at the homeland to report your findings. Immediately.”

Malakath slowly nodded, sighing. “Give me a moment with her?”

Silvia pondered this, before nodding back. “Very well. Two minutes. The rest of you, prepare for liftoff.”

Once everyone had given the prince space, he turned to Chione. He gestured to the two of them together, then the boat. “Will you come with me Chione? I know I can be good to you.”

Not protesting when Mally pulled her closer, Chione watched the woman with careful eyes. No, she did not like her. Something was *wrong* with that woman. As Silvia departed, Chione released a breath she did not release she was holding. She also did not mean to wrap her tail around his leg so tightly. It was a bit embarrassing to feel so afraid and then immediate relief. Sheepishly, she uncurled her tail from around Mally's leg so he could move freely.

However, when he pointed to the boat, then the two of them, Chione was very surprised. He wanted her to come?! Away from her homeland? She barely knew the man! What was he thinking? Those people just threatened her! No, it was bad to jump to conclusions. Perhaps things were different with his people. Something was causing all of them to be on guard. She helped him because it was the right thing to do, but was not going to follow him any further. While he was obviously important to his people, and Chione had no clue Mally was a prince, she was not ready to go with him.

"I'm sorry, but my home is here." Chione shook her head lightly, not wanting to hurt his feelings. "You are very sweet, but I know nothing of you or your people. You seem very important to them. You're a someone, I'm... a no one." She gave him a gentle nudge toward the boat. "You belong with them. I belong here."

Malakath had picked up on a few words from Chinone. Some numbers, and yes and no. Speaking in her tongue, he shook his head and held her hand to his chest. “You… are not… a no one.”

"You're sweetheart." Chione gave him a soft smile as he held his hand close to his heart. It was nice having company for a time. She was often by herself, with only her garden for company. "Go home. I'll be okay."

Malakath, placed a gold ring into her palm, shutting it close. "This is for you to give to the flying beast. You keep the glass I gave you."

The prince looked into her eyes one more time, letting go of Chione. For now. "And this, is so you don't forget me."

With one hand around her waist, and the other gently caressing a horn, he leaned in closely, planting a warm, pillowy kiss upon her lips.

Jewelry? Why was he giving her jewelry? Oh... the sand ray, it would need a trinket to take her back home. It was so kind of him to be considerate to part with a golden ring. Chione did not want to have to sacrifice the beautiful horn adornment he made for her. It was her sole treasure.

As Mally pulled her in closer, earning a loud purr from touching her horn, Chione allowed herself to be kissed by the strange man who was washed into her life by the Aaru River. Maybe this was a way his people said goodbye or expressed thanks. She was not sure, but she supposed one of her own customs was not harmful if he wished to try his. As the kiss parted, Chione rubbed her forehead against his as a sign of affection.

"Be safe, Mally."

Malakath longed to take her. But that was not his destiny as of today. Instead, he simply made his way back to the docked boat.

Getting on board the deck, Silvia was watching him closely. “Careful brother. A kiss can lead to a bond.”

“I know what I’m doing sister. Who I choose to love is my choice.”

“Just be careful.” Silvia went over and hugged her brother. “Don’t think otherwise. I was worried for you.”

The prince crossed his arms, unconvinced. “Really now?”

“When I become Empress, I want you to see my triumph.” Least she was honest, he thought. “Is there anything I can get you Malakath?”

The prince paused, an idea coming to him. “Yes… yes I do. Go along the shore until we find another Nara. We need a local that can teach us the language of their people.”

Silvia didn’t laugh at the idea, her own mind thinking it over. “You want to see her again, don’t you?Are her people a resource, an ally, or an enemy to the Kikai Empire?”

“They are a strong people. I think they have the blood of dragons, like us, sister.”

“…Fine. We can do that.” Silvia raised a curious brow. “You know, we could pick up a few others from this continent. Could do us good to get accustomed.”

Malakath nodded. Turning back, he saw Chione taking off back into the air. Clenching his fist, the prince made a promise. “I will see you again."

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Previous Ch. https://mrneighbourlove.tumblr.com/post/738965846876160000/glass-love-and-desire-ch-1-foreign-prince-in-a

Next Ch. https://mrneighbourlove.tumblr.com/post/741967992284381184/glass-love-and-desire-ch-3-folded-into-the

Prequel to The War of Fire, written with @ridersoftheapocalypse

#comments appriciated #Hasai #Nara #Malakath #Chione #writing

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