#torrent-borne

[rapidhighway]

bitch tumblr wont let me upload the audio files for space dementia and megalomania DAMN YOU COPYRIGHT

[thedarksideofmymoonhasmatches]

[teatreeoilll]

w/c: 750 Part I - A drabble - headcanon thingy of our favorite king of red flags curses, set in a Heian-era village. i dunno anymore. | Part 2 here

Childhood!FriendSukuna who first met you as he stood at the brink of death.

"Mom, hey, mom." You tugged at her sleeve, directing her gaze at a frail boy, about seven or eight, on the verge of collapse behind the village market stall, "Can I give him an apple?" It's a bad month, she thought, glancing at the contents of her basket; this kindness might cost an empty stomach later on.

"No dear, he'll be fine." But you already ran off with an apple, your tiny legs making their way to the sickly boy.

"Here," you held the apple in front of his face, to which he narrowed his eyes, extending a scrawny arm to smack it away.

"I don't need your trash." He barked, his voice harsh as he gathered saliva in his mouth, spitting at your feet, “Peasant.”

As soon as your mother dragged you away, he picked up the apple, eating it whole.

ChildhoodFriend!Sukuna who didn’t mind the insults the villagers threw at him while he was knee-deep in mud, plowing the fields for a cup of stale rice in the evenings.

"That brat is cursed," the whispers would grow amidst the village's council meetings, "If we stop feeding him, he'll leave."

ChildhoodFriend!Sukuna, whose malnourished limbs betrayed him as he fell face first on the rice terrace with the hot sun still ablaze on his back.

ChildhoodFriend!Sukuna who woke up almost a day later under an unknown ceiling, fever gnawing at his head under a wet cloth.

"Mom! Mom!" You shrieked from the corner of the room, "He's awake!" and a woman came in with a warm cup of tea, the taste of which lingered on his tongue as he drifted back to sleep.

"Let me die, brat." His hoarse voice was still weak when he came back to his senses as you placed a fresh, dampened cloth over his forehead.

"My name's not 'brat,'" you informed with a scoff, "It's (Name); what's yours?"

Too ashamed to admit he didn’t know the answer, he turned away and closed his eyes.

ChildhoodFriend!Sukuna, whose mouth hung agape when you pressed a chaste kiss on his forehead one night while muttering, 'mother told me that a kiss can heal any sickness'.

ChildhoodFriend!Sukuna, who disappeared as soon as he found the strength to walk again, returning to the fields only to find that the farmer's wife would no longer spare him dried-out rice when he finished a day's work.

"They should have let him die," he heard the farmer's wife proclaim through the thin walls of the cabin, "That self-righteous linen maker and her irritating daughter. That brat probably cursed them, too."

ChildhoodFriend!Sukuna who killed the farmer and his wife, unleashing a torrent of power he never knew resided within him; some kind of strange magic, he thought, wondering if the whispers of curses were more than the village gossip. The air hung heavy with the metallic tang of blood, and for the first time, he could breathe.

ChildhoodFriend!Sukuna who disappeared after the crime, only to emerge a decade later, leaving a trail of chaos in his wake as he razed and burned each village in his path - laughing as he watched the terror-stricken villagers bow at his feet, crying and begging and dubbing him devil.

ChildhoodFriend!Sukuna who spared you as the village you once called home turned to ashes around you.

"I owe no debt to you now." He announced.

Tears pooled in your eyes, and a scream escaped your lips as you broke down on your knees before him, "I should have listened," you wailed, fingers clawing at the dry dirt beneath you, "They said you were cursed," you hurled a mass of dirt at him, hitting his chest, "They said the devil came to the village the day you were born."

ChildhoodFriend!Sukuna who passed through the village again the next day, just to see you lying between the rubble, limbs sprawled on the dirt and ashes.

"I've extended you kindness." He said, covering the sun with his frame as he loomed over you, "Leave."

And you laughed, shaking and howling until the sides of your body started stinging, and the words came out as mere gasps; "And go where?"

"Wherever you wish."

"Home," You declared, locking eyes with his confused expression, "I want to go home."

You weren’t sure what sick thoughts ran through his mind when he leaned down to press a chaste kiss on your forehead, so you smiled, his face still a mere inch away from yours; "It's my fault." you confessed, "So, the next time we meet, I'll fix it, okay?" A deadpan expression took over as you added, "I'll kill you myself."

-

[deunmiu-dessie]

(unedited) widowedfather!simon gets help with his daughter. [ connected with this post as an au! ] [ one, two ]

the incessant wailing of the baby seemed never-ending. her plump, delicate cheeks were tinged with a crimson hue, and torrents of tears streamed down her face. simon, standing amidst the formula cans, wondered briefly how such a tiny thing could produce such an ear-piercing noise, the sound grating at his ears, which only served to exacerbate his already troubled state of mind.

he was at a loss, unable to figure out what was causing her distress. simon had just fed her, burped her, and changed her diaper recently—yet she continued to cry inconsolably, legs kicking and arms tucked to her body. it’d been like that, him desperately trying to calm her down while receiving judgmental glares from onlookers (although he couldn't bring himself to care) for the past fifteen minutes.

she misses her mother.

well, she's gone. he was all she had now, and he wasn't much– he knew that. he’d asked price’s wife for help several times after she was born, when he couldn't figure out why she was crying, what to do when she wouldn't go to sleep. simon eventually stopped asking for help a couple of months later, didn't want to inconvenience them any more than he already had. didn't matter if they swore that he wasn't. he was a father, he needed to act like one.

simon had never been annoyed or angry with his child. how could he ever find it in himself to be annoyed or angry with his own flesh and blood? especially when she bore such an uncanny resemblance to his late wife.

no, his anger was solely directed towards himself, anger for not being able to understand her needs quickly, anger for not knowing how to soothe her. doubt plagued his every thought, making him question his capability to raise her properly.

“hi, would you like some help with her?”

taken from his thoughts, simon turned slightly to where the voice spoke, a woman standing just a few feet from him. her grocery cart was filled with food and two children, twin boys, were hanging off the side he realized. they seemed to be no more than five years old, but they were calm; giggling amongst themselves and pointing to what cereals they would eat early tomorrow.

simon redirects his attention toward the woman, her smile is warm, sympathetic, and non-judgmental. she eyes the newborn with starry eyes and a slight pout on her lips. simon shakes his head softly. “s’alrigh, don’t want t’bother you.” he murmurs gently. regardless, even though he declines her help, his daughter continues to cry inconsolably, much like the day she was born.

she waves him off and grins— everything about her was so, motherly, so kind. “believe it or not, i miss the newborn phase. they're like little critters when they hit their tot years.” she whispers the last part to avoid her kids overhearing and sends him a wink. he chuckles, it's small, barely there but she hears it nonetheless and responds with a soft laugh of her own.

the woman takes a few steps forward and gently takes the baby from his grasp, despite his hesitation, before he can decline once more. and a weight is lifted from his shoulders, his body no longer tense from not understanding what was wrong. simon watches as she cradles the newborn, a bright smile adorning her face, before she looks up at him. “she’s just a little gassy, feeding her while she’s upright will help to stop this from happening.”

simon anxiously nods, his heart pounding as the woman gently applies pressure just below his daughter's tummy, causing the gas to escape gradually and the baby's cries to turn into soft whimpers instead. his heartbeat slows, and he readjusts his arms to take the child. the woman lovingly coos at the newborn one last time before placing her delicately into simon’s waiting embrace.

she waves him off once more when he goes to thank her, smiling. “we parents need to stick together,” she says, before she walks back towards her cart and affectionately runs her hands through her children’s hair. “so, where to next?” her laugh is soft and loving as the two excitedly shout, "candy!" she looks over her shoulder at him and rolls her eyes, mouthing: ‘critters’

and simon, since the death of his wife, finally feels something.

[slytherinslut0]

MATTHEO RIDDLE- Beg For Me

Chapter Four- Info: You and Mattheo have been butting heads for months, since you were assigned as his tutor, and one day during a session full of tense bickering, he has enough.

(This will essentially be a toxic book where we are Thèos fucktoy. No love here, very minimal fluff.)

Tags: 18+, Sub!Reader, Dom!Mattheo, Dirty Talk, Toxic Behaviour, Blackmail, Praise Kink, Degradation Kink, Jealousy, TomRiddle, weaponizing!Tom (slightly?), Possessive Behaviours, Manipulation

****FIND THE REST OF THE CHAPTERS HERE.

"Outstanding, naturally," you said, your voice laced with confidence and your grin so wide it seemed to stretch beyond the boundaries of your face. "Must you even ask?"

The morning sunlight filtered through the enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall, casting a warm glow over the room as you and your friends gathered for breakfast. Emily, your blonde-haired friend that you've known since your very first day here, couldn't help but to snicker at your bluntness, her eyes twinkling with amusement as she shoved a forkful of eggs into her mouth.

It’d been almost two weeks since you’d last met with Mattheo, since there was no tutor session last week due to your exam in Advanced Magical Studies. Admittedly, you were thankful for the break.

"Is there any subject where you don't get perfect  grades?" Your other friend Michael said, widened eyes glancing at your marked exam in your hands. "You're a natural born Ravenclaw prodigy...I don't know how you do it, I simply can't wrap my head around it."

Emily, in between bites, nodded vigorously, her admiration evident. "It's true, you seem to effortlessly ace every bloody class. Meanwhile, I'm literally up to my neck in notes, struggling away in hopes of achieving a Meets Expectations."

"Come on, Emily," you said, sitting up a bit taller in your seat. "You earned an Outstanding on the exam too. Your intelligence and dedication are remarkable. You give yourself far too little credit."

She shrugged, taking a moment to chew her food thoughtfully. "Maybe," she conceded, her eyes briefly meeting yours. "But your brilliance seems innate, effortless. It's both inspiring and, I must admit, a tad infuriating."

The corners of her lips twitched into a half-smile, acknowledging the mix of admiration and friendly jealousy in her words. You couldn't help but to blush at her compliments, feeling proud of just how much your intense studies over the years have paid off. Your friends know just how much of your life you've dedicated to your education, and that by this point--after grinding away for years and years, the knowledge was just seamless to you. It just came naturally.

"Good morning, my dear students," came a gentle yet resonant voice from directly behind you, shattering the comfortable silence. "And how might you find yourselves on this delightful, sun-filled morning?"

As you turned, you were met with the twinkling eyes of Professor Dumbledore, his warm presence enveloping the room with ease.

You rose from your seat, your hands clasped together in front of you. "Good morning, Professor; it's always a pleasure to see you. I'm wonderful, how about yourself?"

Your friends gave similar responses, each earning an attentive nod.

"Very good, very good," Dumbledore's voice resonated warmly, his eyes crinkling with a kind smile. "Thank you all."

His gaze shifted to you, a mix of gentleness and concern in his eyes. "I would be grateful for a moment of your time in my office, if you could spare it. It concerns your peer tutoring sessions. Would you be able to join me before the day's lessons commence?”

A sickening twist gripped your stomach, causing your once radiant smile to shatter into fragments. You battled to shield your fear, but it threatened to consume you--every horrifying possibility flooding your mind in a torrent.

Your eyes were drawn involuntarily across the room, zeroing in on the Slytherin table, only to find the devil himself, Mattheo Riddle, the harbinger of your academic ruin--was already fucking staring, smug arrogance practically radiating off of him as he relished your clear discomfort. His calculating gaze felt like a vulture circling its prey, keenly observing every nuance of your nervous demeanour--and you were certain you were about to collapse to the floor. 

Snapping yourself from your trance, you returned your eyes to your Professor, mustering up the best fake smile you possibly could. "Absolutely, Professor--it's no trouble at all."

"Wonderful," he smiled, nodding. "Shall we?"

With a subtle nod, he gracefully guided you out of the Great Hall, your fingers tightly clutching the strap of your bag after bidding your friends goodbye. Your heart raced in your chest, the anticipation of the impending conversation tightening its grip on your every nerve. You trailed closely behind Dumbledore, the echo of your footsteps blending with the murmur of distant conversations.

As you approached the Hall's exit, Dumbledore's movements came to an abrupt halt. He spun around with a swift grace, his piercing eyes sweeping across the tables like a lighthouse beam cutting through the fog, searching for someone specific amidst the bustling sea of students.

And when his searching gaze finally landed on the person he sought, he outstretched his arm, a subtle wave beckoning them to follow. Your eyes widened in complete horror as Riddle stood up, tossing his bag over his shoulder with an air of arrogant nonchalance. Slowly, he began making his way toward you, his every step seemingly echoing off the walls of your mind.

The lot of you moved briskly, following Dumbledore to his office, Mattheo not deigning to acknowledge your existence except for the few brief, unsettling glances he kept throwing your way, a knowing smirk plastered across his face, practically casting a shadow of impending doom over your academic future.

As you entered Dumbledore's office, your heart continued to race with fear, the heavy weight of impending disaster hanging over you like a storm cloud. Dumbledore gestured for you and Riddle to sit down, the creaking of the chairs adding to the palpable tension in the room. You could hardly bear to look at Riddle, certain that his presence here meant he had failed the exam. Your post-graduate career seemed destined to crumble before it even began.

Your mind spun with catastrophic thoughts, the urge to throw up from nerves clawing at your throat. Just as you prepared yourself for the devastating news, Dumbledore's voice cut through the suffocating silence like a lifeline.

"Well, I must be frank, and I hope you won't take offense, Mister Riddle," his tone was incisive, his words carrying a weight of honesty. "I didn't harbor high hopes for substantial improvement in your academic pursuits when you commenced this new tutoring arrangement. Considering your history and the difficulty you faced in finding a suitable mentor, my expectations were rather restrained."

Your breath caught in your throat, your head spinning, nerves screaming in fear as Dumbledore spoke. His gaze was penetrating, his words hanging heavily in the air. He straightened in his chair, clasping his hands together in front of him.

"However, it is entirely safe to say that I was beyond pleased when I found out that you had achieved an 'Exceeds Expectations,' on your recent exam--which, if I may point out, is your highest grade thus far."

Your mind reeled, struggling to grasp the reality of the situation. Dumbledore's words echoed in your ears, and your jaw dropped in utter shock.

"Exceeds expectations," you repeated, your eyes wider than the sun and just as blaring. "Exceeds expectations! Mattheo, that's amazing!"

When you glanced at Mattheo, his eyes practically glimmered with a peculiar mix of pride and smug arrogance. His confident smirk persisted, etched on his features as he reclined casually in the chair beside you, choosing to remain silent; but you both knew exactly what the other was thinking.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled with approval as he continued. "Your efforts in guiding Mister Riddle have not only benefited him but also showcased your exceptional skills as a tutor. It's a rare talent to break through someone's barriers, especially someone as formidable as he...I encourage both of you to continue this fruitful collaboration, nurturing each other's potential to the fullest."

You were gleaming. Screaming. On the verge of tears. This felt like a miracle, like music to your ears. The surge of emotions threatened to overwhelm you; you wanted to run until your legs gave out, to kiss Mattheo's stupidly infuriating face until it was raw. This was all you had ever wanted, more than anything else in the world.

"Thank you so much Professor," you beamed, your voice filled with excitement. "Your encouragement means more to me than you could ever begin to imagine."

"No, thank you, dear," Dumbledore said, a benevolent smile gracing his features. "Oh, and since I have you here, I was actually wondering if you'd be interested in joining the Hogwarts Mentorship Guild. Currently, it's coincidentally being overseen by Mister Riddle's brother, Tom...I do believe it would be an immensely beneficial experience for you. It's quite selective, but with my personal recommendation, your entry would be assured. You'd have weekly meetings with Tom and the other members-"

Every word that fell from Dumbledore's lips ignited an exhilarating flutter in your chest, a surge of excitement threatening to crack your ribcage open and pierce through your heart. The prospect of joining the prestigious club had been a cherished dream for years, and now, the reality of it was overwhelming. You basked in the euphoria, savoring the moment, until Mattheo's voice abruptly shattered the joy that had filled your soul.

"Professor, if I may," Mattheo spoke up, his tone surprisingly earnest as he straightened in his chair; his jaw tensed and his eyes dark. "I was actually wondering if she could tutor me in Potions as well...I could definitely use the help...it's been rough, to say the least."

His request hung in the air, creating a pause charged with unexpected tension. The elation that had filled you moments ago now mingled with apprehension as Dumbledores gaze darted between the two of you, his demeanour shifting as he leaned back in his chair.

"That would be up to her, Mister Riddle...I would imagine you'd struggle with doing all three, my dear witch...how about you think on it, and get back to me in a weeks time with what you'd prefer to do, yes?"

With anger simmering beneath your skin, you nodded and mustered a fake smile as you stood up. You extended your hand, shaking Dumbledore's firmly, concealing the turmoil within you. After exchanging polite goodbyes, assuring him of your prompt response, you spun on your heels with a sense of urgency that left Mattheo in your dust. Ignoring his calls that faded into the distance, you marched toward your dorm room, determined to shut out the world and the infuriating presence of Mattheo Riddle.

Right now, you wanted absolutely nothing to do with him--nothing at all. But of course, he wasn't having that.

The heavy, urgent pounding on your door reverberated through the room, rattling your bones and intensifying your annoyance. Mattheo's relentless assault on the door seemed never-ending, refusing to halt for even a moment. Fearing the spectacle he might create in the hallway and the questions it would spark among your peers, you reluctantly decided to put an end to the commotion.

With a surge of anger-fueled determination, you swung the door open, gripping a fistful of his tie between your infuriated fingers as you pulled him inside. The door slammed shut behind him, the noise echoing your frustration, and you kept your grasp on his tie, shoving his back up against the wood of your door.

"Potions?" you hissed, your voice laced with seething anger as you pressed against him. "In the name of the four fucking founders, Riddle, potions?"

He blinked, clearly startled by the intensity of your rage. "What-"

"You're about to shatter one of my lifelong dreams just because you can't handle a cauldron and some bloody ingredients?" you spat through gritted teeth, eyes burning with fury. "Are you genuinely that hopelessly inept?"

Your response was met with a suffocating silence, his lips parting as if searching for words that never materialized. His jaw clenched, his eyes darting away briefly, a clear sign of his inner turmoil. The weight of his silence only fueled the blaze of your anger.

"Haven't you taken enough from me?" you hissed, the emotion in your tone nearly tangible. "Haven't you wreaked sufficient havoc on my life?"

Mattheo's eyes darkened, his irises smoldering with unspoken fury as he silently wrestled with his words. His fists clenched at his sides, the intensity of his emotions evident, yet the silence persisted. You could practically feel the weight of his suppressed anger hanging heavily in the air.

"You really have nothing to fucking say, do you?" you spat, your voice sharp with disappointment. "The arrogant Slytherin prince, always ready with a cutting remark, suddenly struck dumb when he's called out...how utterly predictable."

You scoffed, your frustration mounting as his inability to respond only fueled the fire of your own indignation.

"You're unbelievable." You said, finally releasing his tie and spinning away from him, moving across the room with deliberate pace before you spun back around, meeting his dark eyes from against the opposite wall. "I'm happy that your grades are improving under my guidance but I think you'll have to find someone else to tutor you in potions...I'm sorry, Mattheo."

Riddle blinked, stepping forward. "I don't need help in potions."

You paused. You weren't sure if you'd even heard him correctly. "What?"

"I don't need help in potions." He repeated, taking another step.

"You don't-" your brows pinched, your words falling short as Mattheo veered closer. "But you-"

"My grades are bad, yeah," he said, voice low and hoarse. "But I'm not failing. And I certainly don't need a tutor."

Your chest constricted. You weren't following him. "Then why? Why'd you say that to Dumbledore?"

He inhaled sharply through his nose, his jaw locking with tension. Swallowing hard, his throat worked as he landed himself roughly an arms length away from you, his eyes darker than the midnight sky and twice as intense.

"Because," he said, taking a singular step closer. "I don't want you anywhere near him."

His words slammed your chest so hard you almost fell over. "Excuse me?"

"My brother," he said, his tone flat and unwavering. "I don't want you anywhere fucking near my brother."

Your jaw dropped, the air catching in your lungs. A whirlwind of conflicting emotions engulfed you, each one sparking a fire in your core that you desperately wished to ignore. Your head spun, torn between the lingering anger and the new surge of shock and disbelief at his words.

"You're not serious..." you spat, peering up at him as he loomed over you, hastily taking a step back to create some distance between you. "Riddle, please tell me you're fucking joking."

"Do I look like I'm joking?" he replied, his expression carved from stone, taking another step closer and erasing the space you had just tried to create. "Huh, Raven? Do I?"

Anger swelled inside you, clouding your vision. "You've lost your fucking mind," you said, your voice dropping so low you weren't even sure if he'd heard you. "You're being controlling, Mattheo. That's...you can't just..."

Mattheo tilted his head, backing you up against the wall, a predatory glint in his eyes that made your stomach flip. "I can't, what?"

Your throat went dry, his hands pressing against the wood on either side of your head. "You can't just-"

Your words were cut short as Mattheo leaned in, his lips brushing against yours. "Can't what, Raven?" he murmured, his voice a dangerous whisper. "Go on, spit it out."

Gods, curse him. Curse him to bloody hell.

"You can't just control my life like you own it, Mattheo," you whispered against his lips, ignoring the fiery desire that flared within you, something you fought fiercely to suppress. "Outside of that classroom, you don't hold any power over me."

Mattheo's lips curled into a sly, taunting smile, his eyes glinting with challenge. "Oh, Raven," he murmured, his voice a dangerous whisper, "you have no idea how wrong you are...inside that classroom or out, you're mine to control...I believe I've proven that today--you'd have never gotten the offer to join that fucking club if it wasn't for my improved grades."

You scowled, your back pressing firmly against the wall as his lips trailed down to your jawline. Frustration mingled with desire, a dangerous combination that sent your senses reeling.

You cursed yourself inwardly, loathing the way your resolve seemed to crumble under his touch. Why did a boy this bad have to look so fucking sweet? Why did a boy this bad for you have to taste so fucking good?

"No...you're wrong, Mattheo..." you whispered, your voice trembling, trying to inject conviction into your words despite the turmoil inside you. "You're so fucking wrong."

"Am I, Raven?" He teased, his voice smug, one hand shifting to cup the side of your face, thumb brushing over your cheek. "So you're saying, that if I told you to get on your knees for me, right now in the middle of your dorm room like my good little whore, you wouldn't do it?" His lips grazed your ear, your lids fluttering involuntarily. "Or...if I told you to take off your shirt so I could cum all over those beautiful fucking tits of yours, you'd say no...hm?"

Your breath caught in your throat, his touch and words igniting a fierce battle within you. As much as you knew the next words form your lips were an entire fucking lie, you simply couldn't help yourself. Merlin knows your body and mind were betraying you, all you had left was your mouth--which was never known to go down without a fight.

"That's right, Riddle..." you whispered, your voice barely audible, betraying the tremor in your resolve. "I'd say no...one million times over I'd say no..."

Mattheo groaned, the noise reverberating down your spine as he breathed it directly into your eardrum. Your thighs screamed in need at the sound--your stomach flipping as his hand slid into your hair, cradling the back of your neck.

"And if I asked you to kiss me?" He murmured, his intense gaze locking onto yours. "Would you still say no then?"

Your heart was beating so hard you were certain he could hear it. "I...I would..."

"Yeah?" He said, his voice a sultry whisper, wetting his lips as he glimpsed yours. "You sure about that, Raven?"

Your lungs sputtered, trying your best to keep your composure as you nodded, glimpsing his lips now. "I'm sure, Mattheo..."

His nails dug into your neck, every inch of your body ablaze as your gaze darted between his dark, intoxicated eyes and his plush, inviting lips. You cursed yourself, the internal struggle fierce and unrelenting. You cursed yourself so intensely, you could almost taste the bitterness of your own self-reproach.

"Mm." He hummed, grazing his lips over yours with feather like precision, before he pulled back. "And what would I have to do to change your mind, huh? Do you want me to fucking beg, princess?"

A low, desperate sound escaped your lips, a primal mewl reverberating in your chest. "That might help..." you breathed. "Maybe if you got on your knees while you did, it'd be far more effective..."

"Fuck...I've created a monster, haven't I..." he huffed, smirk teasing his perfect fucking lips, both hands falling to your hips as he slowly dropped to his knees in front of you. "A beautiful, slutty little monster..."

You were speechless, body blazed with desire, torn between the intense pull in his eyes and the irresistible temptation of his lips. Holy fucking hell you wanted to kiss him so unbelievably bad, you weren't sure how much longer you could continue playing this little game; the desire only strengthening as he ran his hands along your curves, rough palms smoothing down your thighs as he peered up at you--chocolate curls sitting messy over his forehead, his dark eyes burning wounds into your flesh.

"Kiss me, Raven..." he whispered, holding your sight, voice strained weigh desire so intense it was palpable. "Please, fucking kiss me."

That did it. That absolutely did it.

Without a second thought, you bent at the waist, seizing his tie and directing his mouth to yours, your lips crashing onto his in a feverish, desperate kiss. At the passionate connection, a low moan slid past your teeth, your fingers entwining in his hair, deepening the kiss. His tongue sought entrance, and you willingly granted it, eliciting a low, primal growl from him. His hands tightened around the backs of your thighs, anchoring you in place, not daring to move an inch higher.

Mattheo nipped your bottom lip, smirking as he tugged on it gently before releasing it, blinking as he met your eyes. "I love the way you moan for me, Raven..." he purred, hands slowly moving up, slipping under your skirt. "You have no idea what I could fucking do to you."

You whimpered as his hands slid higher, gripping your ass under your skirt, his face dangerously close to your sex. Your fingers curled tightly into his hair, gripping the strands within your palms as your entire body quivered. His lips left a trail of hot, fervent kisses along your outer thigh, igniting a path of tingling sensations in their wake.

"Gods..." you moaned, unable to form any other coherent word as his hands explored and caressed places on your body that no one else had ever touched before. "Mattheo..."

"Fucking hell..." he groaned, his grip tightening. "If you do that again I might not be able to stop myself Raven...I might have to rip this fucking skirt off and make you moan my name over and over until it's the only word you remember..."

Your breath caught in your throat, your head spinning in a whirlpool of desire at his words. Every fiber of your being trembled, quivering under his touch. Mattheo pulled himself up to his feet, his hands still firmly gripping your ass as he pressed himself against you, the strength of his grip pulling your crotch against his. Even through the fabric of his trousers, you could feel his aggressive erection pressing against you.

Involuntarily, you moaned again.

"Mhm, that’s right...” Mattheo hummed, wet lips grazing your ear. "…and you say I don't have control over you..." he purred, licking a slow line up the side of your throat. "You're fucking melting for me and I've barely touched you, Raven..."

His mention of control snapped you back to your senses, not wanting your earlier anger to be neutered so easily, despite the lake pooling between your thighs for this cunning enigma of a man.

"I'm still mad at you, Mattheo..." you managed to croak out, head falling back as he pressed his lips to your neck. "You can't keep doing this...you can't keep sweet-talking me out of my anger for you.”

"Is that what you think I'm doing here?" He huffed, one hand leaving your ass and gripping your hip with enough force to shatter your bones. "Maybe I just can't keep my fucking hands off of you...maybe I like knowing I'm the only one who's ever touched you like this, the only one who's ever fucked your throat and seen those perfect tits of yours...maybe I don't like sharing...maybe I don't like the thought of my brother getting you alone and trying to take what's mine..."

You whimpered, chest constricting. "And you told me not to get attached?" You said, ignoring the burning, screaming flames that ignited at his admission. "You're utterly delusional...I'm not your fucking toy-"

“Yes you are.” He huffed, a deviant grin crawling over his lips. "And believe me, I'm not attached, princess..." he said. "I'm possessive, and there's a fucking difference. I know my brother...I know exactly how he operates."

"If it's anything like how you do, then I can understand your concern." You scoffed, not even attempting to hide your smirk. "But I'm not a child, I don't need protection. And believe me when I tell you, one irritating Riddle man in my life is more than enough."

His jaw tensed at your words, and he loosened his grip, almost fully releasing you, but not quite. "You can do all three."

You paused, lips parting, but he cut you off, sensing your incoming confusion. "Tutoring me in advanced magical studies and potions…plus the stupid club. You can do all three."

"What?" You were dumbfounded, nearly speechless. "I-I can't, Riddle...Dumbledore said-"

"He's only saying that because he thinks you'd actually have to tutor me in potions...we can just make him think you are...imagine how impressed he'll be when you tell him-"

"Oh, Mattheo! That's brilliant!" You beamed, excitement filling your eyes, all of your earlier anger and concern and disappointment seemingly flowing from your flesh, dissipating into the charged air. You gripped his face, giving him a kiss on the cheek, smirking as you pulled back. "You really changed your mind rather quickly."

"I see how much it upset you." He shrugged, stepping back and shoving his hands into his pockets. "I don't want to interfere with your goals, Raven. I just want you to know that even though he's my brother, I won't refrain from kicking his fucking ass if he tries anything."

Your jaw fell open like you wanted to reply, but words would fail you, and he smirked. “Tell Dumbledore you’ll do it. And I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

Without giving you the chance to respond, he spun around, briskly making his way out of your dorm without another bloody word--leaving you entirely at a loss, unable to comprehend what the hell just happened.

————

CHAPTER FIVE->

[novaursa]

Eternal Blaze

- Summary: You go after Aegon with your dragon to fight at Rook's Rest.

- Paring: reader (twin!wife)/Aegon II

- Note: reader is referred to as Y/N and has same shade of eyes as Aegon. The reader is bonded with a dragon called Starfyre. For full chronological order of these works visit my blog. The list is pinned on the top. Or, you can read it as a one-shot.

- Rating: Explicit 18+

- Word count: 2 475

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff

You soar through the skies atop Starfyre, her gleaming silver scales reflecting the sunlight, with hints of pale blue and alabaster shimmering underneath. Starfyre’s powerful wings beat in rhythm with your heart, carrying you swiftly to the battlefield at Rook’s Rest. Below, the chaos of war unfolds, but your focus remains on the sky, where your twin brother and husband, King Aegon II, battles Rhaenys Targaryen, the Queen Who Never Was.

The air is thick with the scent of blood and smoke. You can hear the clash of steel and the screams of men, but above all, you hear the roars of dragons. Starfyre lets out a fierce cry, a call to her brother and mate, Sunfyre, as you near the fray.

In the sky, you see them: Aegon on Sunfyre, his golden scales glowing fiercely, locked in combat with Rhaenys on Meleys, the Red Queen. Meleys clamps her jaws around Sunfyre’s neck, and your heart skips a beat. Without hesitation, you urge Starfyre forward.

"To Aegon, my love," you command, your voice steady despite the turmoil within.

Starfyre responds with a burst of speed, her silver form cutting through the air like a comet. You reach the battle just as Aegon lets out a cry of pain and fury.

"Y/N!" Aegon shouts, his voice strained. "Help me!"

You and Starfyre dive at Meleys, claws extended and jaws snapping. Starfyre's roar echoes through the sky as she rakes her talons across Meleys' crimson scales. Rhaenys turns her attention to you, her eyes blazing with fury.

"Y/N, you traitorous wretch!" she yells over the roar of the dragons. "You will fall today!"

Your only response is a determined glare as Starfyre breathes a stream of pale yellow fire at Meleys. The heat is intense, and the air sizzles with the clash of flames. Meleys releases Sunfyre, turning her wrath on you and Starfyre.

Aegon, though injured, maneuvers Sunfyre to attack from the other side. "Hold on, Y/N! For the throne, for our family!"

You nod, feeling the bond between you and your brother strengthen. Starfyre and Sunfyre, born of the same clutch, fight with a ferocity unmatched. However, Meleys is a formidable opponent, her jaws snapping dangerously close to you more than once.

Suddenly, Aemond and Vhagar join the battle. Vhagar's ancient form casts a massive shadow over the battlefield. Aemond circles above, waiting for the right moment to strike. The combined might of Sunfyre, Starfyre, and Vhagar seems overwhelming, but Rhaenys is undeterred.

"Burn them all, Meleys!" Rhaenys commands.

Meleys unleashes a torrent of dragonfire, and the world around you becomes a blaze of red and gold. You feel the searing heat as Starfyre is engulfed in flames, her scales sizzling. She cries out in pain, but you hold firm, determined to protect Aegon.

Aemond seizes the moment, Vhagar's massive jaws closing around Meleys. The Red Queen thrashes, but Vhagar's grip is unyielding. Meleys' death throes are violent, and in her desperation, she lashes out one final time, her flames mingling with those of Vhagar, Sunfyre, and Starfyre.

The sky is a maelstrom of fire and blood. You hear Aegon scream, a sound of both rage and agony, as Sunfyre crashes to the ground, one wing half-torn from his body. You reach out, but it is too late. You can only watch as your husband and his dragon fall in a blaze of fire.

"Aegon!" you scream, your voice raw with despair.

Starfyre, grievously injured, struggles to stay aloft. Her once gleaming silver scales are now scorched and bloodied. You hold on tightly as she begins to falter, the strength draining from her with each beat of her wings.

"Hold on, Starfyre," you whisper, your voice trembling. "Just a little longer."

But the effort is too great. With a final, mournful roar, Starfyre's wings buckle, and you begin to fall. The ground rushes up to meet you, and the world around you becomes a blur of smoke and flames. The sound of your descent is like thunder, a deafening crash that echoes through the battlefield.

As you fall, you think of Aegon, of your love and your shared dreams. You reach out, as if you could grasp him from the air. The last thing you see before darkness claims you is the shattered form of Sunfyre, and the knowledge that you fought together until the end.

The ground trembles beneath the onrush of Criston Cole and his men, their armor clanking and weapons drawn. The sight that greets them is one of devastation and heartache. Smoke and dust fill the air, mingling with the acrid stench of burnt flesh and dragonfire.

Starfyre, despite her grievous wounds, has crawled over to Sunfyre. Her body, a gleaming silver now tarnished with blood and ash, curls protectively around her brother. Sunfyre, his golden form marred and broken, lies motionless beneath her. The two dragons, once the epitome of beauty and strength, now lay in a pitiable heap, their breaths shallow and labored.

Cole’s eyes scan the battlefield until they fall upon the twins. Aegon and Y/N lie side by side, their bodies bruised and bloodied. Aegon’s one side is horrifically burned, his armor melted and fused to his flesh, the pungent smell of charred meat filling the air. His ribs and hip are shattered, his breathing ragged and uneven. Beside him, Y/N is no better off, her body covered in bruises, blood trickling from her nose and mouth with each strained breath.

“Over here! Quickly!” Cole shouts, his voice urgent and commanding. “The King and Queen need immediate aid!”

The soldiers rush forward, their faces pale with fear and determination. As they reach the fallen royals, Aemond descends from the sky atop Vhagar, the massive dragon landing with a ground-shaking thud. Vhagar’s ancient eyes survey the scene with an almost sorrowful gaze, while Aemond dismounts swiftly, his usual cold demeanor shattered by the sight of his siblings.

“Aegon! Y/N!” Aemond cries, rushing to their side. He falls to his knees beside Aegon, his hands trembling as he reaches out to touch his brother’s charred form. “Brother, hold on. Help is here.”

Aegon’s eyes flutter open, pain and exhaustion etched deeply into his features. “Aemond…” he rasps, his voice barely a whisper. “Protect… her…”

Aemond nods, his eye glistening with unshed tears. “I will. I swear it.”

Y/N’s breaths come in shallow gasps, her eyes barely open, but she reaches out weakly towards Aegon. “Aegon…” she murmurs, her voice frail. “Together…”

Aegon’s hand, though shaking with pain, reaches out to grasp hers. “Always,” he breathes, the simple word carrying the weight of their bond.

Criston Cole watches, his expression grim but resolute. “We need to get them to the maesters. Now!”

The soldiers work quickly, lifting the twins with as much care as possible. Their bodies are fragile, and every movement elicits groans of pain. As they are carried away, Starfyre lets out a weak, mournful cry, her eyes following them until they are out of sight. She then curls tighter around Sunfyre, her protective instinct undiminished by her injuries.

Aemond stands, his gaze hardening as he looks at Cole. “Rhaenys and Meleys may be gone, but this war is far from over. We must regroup and prepare for what comes next.”

Cole nods, his face set in determination. “Aye, my Prince. We’ll see to the wounded and fortify our defenses. The realm needs its King and Queen alive.”

As they move to attend to the aftermath of the battle, Aemond casts one last look at the fallen dragons and his injured siblings. He vows silently that their sacrifice will not be in vain, and that the bloodshed at Rook’s Rest will be avenged.

In the depths of unconsciousness, you relive your last night with Aegon. The memory is vivid, as if it were happening all over again. The firelight from the hearth bathed your chamber in a warm, flickering glow. Aegon's eyes, the same shade as yours, were filled with a mixture of determination and a tenderness reserved only for you. 

That night, the world outside ceased to exist. The war, the politics, the looming battle at Rook’s Rest—all faded away in the sanctity of your shared moments. Aegon’s touch was fervent, his kisses desperate, as if he were trying to etch the memory of you into his soul. You responded with equal passion, your hands exploring the familiar planes of his body, every scar and contour telling a story of shared history and love.

“Aegon,” you whispered, your voice a mix of longing and love. “Promise me we’ll come back to this.”

His lips trailed from your neck to your ear, his breath hot and uneven. “I promise, Y/N. We’ll always find our way back to each other.”

Your bodies moved in perfect synchrony, each touch, each kiss, a silent vow of your unbreakable bond. The world might be at war, but in that moment, it was just the two of you, lost in each other, making love with a fervor that spoke of both desperation and eternal devotion.

The memory fades, and you are pulled back to the present by a wave of excruciating pain. Your body feels heavy and foreign, each breath a struggle. Slowly, you open your eyes, the bright light of the room blinding you for a moment. As your vision clears, you see your mother, Dowager Queen Alicent, sitting by your bedside, her face etched with worry.

"Mother?" you croak, your voice barely a whisper.

Alicent’s eyes widen in relief and she quickly leans forward, grasping your hand gently. "Y/N, thank the gods you’re awake."

You try to sit up, but the pain is too much. Every part of your body protests, and you fall back onto the pillows with a groan. Beside you, Aegon lies unconscious, his face pale and drawn, the sight of him sending a fresh wave of fear through you.

"Aegon…" you murmur, reaching out weakly towards him.

Alicent’s expression hardens slightly as she follows your gaze. "He is alive, but his injuries are severe," she says, her voice a mixture of relief and reproach. "You should never have gone after him, Y/N. You risked your life recklessly."

Her words sting, but you can see the fear and concern in her eyes. "I couldn’t let him fight alone," you reply, your voice strained. "He is my twin, my other half."

Alicent sighs, her grip on your hand tightening. "I understand your love, but you are the Queen. Your duty is to your people as well as to Aegon. If both of you were lost…" Her voice breaks slightly, and she takes a moment to compose herself. "The realm needs its King and Queen, Y/N. We cannot afford to lose either of you."

Tears well up in your eyes, partly from the pain and partly from the weight of her words. "I know, Mother. I know."

Alicent’s expression softens, and she brushes a strand of hair from your face. "Rest now. The maesters are doing everything they can. We will get through this, but you must be strong. For Aegon, for the realm, and for yourself."

You nod weakly, the exhaustion overwhelming you. As you close your eyes, you feel Alicent’s comforting presence beside you, her hand never leaving yours. The last thing you see before sleep claims you again is Aegon’s still form, and you silently vow to be there for him, just as he has always been there for you.

The room is dimly lit, the only light coming from the flickering candles casting shadows on the walls. You are barely awake, drifting in and out of consciousness for days now. The pain is a constant companion, a dull ache that ebbs and flows with every shallow breath. The maesters have done what they can, but their prognosis remains grim. Your fate, they say, is now in the hands of the gods.

Aemond enters quietly, his usual confident stride subdued by worry. He pauses at the foot of the bed, his gaze moving between you and Aegon. Orwyle, who left a few hours ago, had briefed him on your condition earlier.

“She suffered severe internal bleeding,” Orwyle had explained, his voice heavy with concern. “Her fate is uncertain. We’ve done all we can. Now, we must pray.”

Aemond steps closer, his face a mask of determination hiding his worry. He sits beside you, his presence a solid, reassuring anchor in the storm of your pain.

“Y/N,” he says softly, reaching out to take your hand. “Can you hear me?”

You manage a slight nod, your eyes fluttering open. “Aemond…” you whisper, your voice barely audible. “Our dragons… Starfyre and Sunfyre… how are they?”

Aemond’s jaw tightens, but he answers with as much calm as he can muster. “Both are grievously wounded but alive. Starfyre and Sunfyre are being tended to. Ser Criston ordered his men to feed them with the bodies of fallen soldiers until a steady source of cattle can be provided.”

A flicker of relief crosses your face. “Good… they need to be strong.”

Before Aemond can respond, Aegon stirs beside you, his face contorted in agony. He awakens with a gasp, his eyes wide with pain and fear. “Y/N… where is Y/N?” he croaks, his voice thick with desperation.

“I’m here, Aegon,” you whisper, mustering all your strength to squeeze his hand. “I’m right here.”

Aegon’s eyes lock onto yours, and for a moment, the pain seems to lessen. He clutches your hand tightly, his grip trembling. “Don’t leave me,” he pleads, his voice breaking.

“I won’t, ” you promise, forcing a weak smile.

Aemond watches the exchange, his heart heavy with emotion. He feels a surge of protectiveness, vowing silently to do whatever it takes to keep you both safe.

“I’ll get Orwyle,” Aemond says, standing up. “You need more care, both of you.”

He leaves the room swiftly, his mind racing with thoughts of how to ensure your recovery. As he walks through the corridors, he passes soldiers and servants, all bowing respectfully, their faces lined with worry. He finally reaches the maester’s chambers and bursts in.

“Orwyle, they need you. Now,” Aemond commands, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Orwyle nods, gathering his tools and potions quickly. “I will do everything in my power, Prince Aemond,” he assures, following him back to your chambers.

Upon their return, Orwyle immediately begins to tend to you and Aegon, checking wounds, administering potions, and murmuring prayers under his breath. Aemond stands by, his presence a silent promise of protection and support.

As you drift back into a fitful sleep, the last thing you feel is Aegon’s hand in yours, a small comfort in the midst of your suffering. Aemond watches over you both, his heart a mixture of hope and fear, determined that the gods will grant you the strength to survive this ordeal.

[titania-sleeps]

Wild Roses and Hawthorns (Sub!Bloodbag!Human!Yandere x Vampire!Reader)

hii i promise i didn't forget about adonis, he has TWO whole pieces in my drafts (i just need to be in a specific mood to pump out adonis fics)

in the meantime, here's the aftermath of dion getting the blood sucked tf out of him

spoilers: he wants more. :3

more works featuring Dion: Dion Introduction

warning: mild nsfw, dom reader, biting, asphyxiation (choking), messy feelings, minors DNI pls

A week has passed since you'd last lost your temper with your bloodbag. The look in his eyes never left your mind. The torrent waves of turmoil in his gaze had washed over you, and you were stricken with a sense of fear and... greedy desire. You had immediately fled after that, terrified by what he aroused in you.

Tonight, you lay still as a statue, staring into the ceiling. While you don't need sleep the same way that humans do, it calms you to rest when the sky is dark. It's habitual from your time training to melt into human society (as all vampirekin do for a few decades). However, dawn was nearing in a couple of hours and you've yet to get even a blink of rest.

Every time you close your eyes, even if for a moment, a flash of glistening sweat on caramel skin appears in your mind. Then the sensation of your teeth sinking their way into supple skin manifests in your mouth. The hair on the back of your neck stands and, if you were to look in the mirror at that very moment, what would reflect back is a lonely monster, craving for the flesh of the living.

You are not a common monster, that you know. You are a noble creature, born with veins of blue gold and armed with grace. Yet such a simple bite stirs a primal need in you, one that rivals that of a hungry beast. It borders on something that you'd hope to never experience, especially for your blood bag.

Maybe you need some clear water to reset your thoughts.

As you glide down the stairs to the kitchen, you bump into a shadowy figure. The figure steadies you, and a familiar scent enters your senses.

"...Dion."

The figure responds to your call, a grin on his lips.

"Are you here to indulge in a midnight snack, master?" The comment is teasing and almost enticing, and you know that the snack he is referring to doesn't exist in the kitchen.

Sighing, you push past him and walk to the counter to pour yourself a glass of water from the pitcher. He follows you.

"Dion, why are you awake?" you ask, taking a sip of the water. Though you vastly prefer blood over water, as long as the water isn't tainted by any holiness, it suffices to quench your thirst.

Dion's eyes wander for a moment before he responds with a disarming smile. He shrugs, the collar of his shirt falling to the side to reveal his neck. Your eyes flit to it for just a second, and only a second.

"Maybe I was looking for someone," he replies. His vague response irks you, but you don't bother pressing him for more details. The more you know about him, the more you will feel for him. So it is easier to maintain the comfortable distance that you have with him.

You finish the last drop of water and place the cup in the sink. "I hope you find them," you say airily, giving him a lazy wave as you prepare to return to your room.

You're stopped by an encircling grip around your wrist.

You whip your head around and before you know it, you're chasing Dion out the door, down the hallway, and into your room, slamming him against the wall. He lands with a thud and a devious smirk.

You brush your finger across his lips, eyes peering into his. There they are again, the storm that has torn sailors and their rafts asunder, lightning and thunder electrifying even your immortal form.

"Your thirst has yet to be quenched," he whispers to you, eyes swirling. Or maybe you're just imagining that, entranced by him.

"Are you offering yourself?" you ask dryly, with the restraint that you don't have.

Dion laughs, cocking his head to the left. Once again, he bares his neck to you. You aren't so impolite as to reject a gift offered to you.

You sink your fangs into his skin. The same caramel gold that plagues your mind, shining with a thin layer of sweat. And it tastes sweeter than before, with the right hint of despair, just as you like it. Dion's existence at that very moment perforates your senses; the smell of iron and sweat in the air, the sounds of his low moans in your ear, the taste of saccharine goodness in your mouth. And then you open your eyes and he greets you with a loving smile and a tsunami that sweeps you off your feet.

"You're still hungry." It isn't a question but a statement. And he's right to make it a statement because you wouldn't have been able to answer anyway.

You lick the puncture wound with your tongue, gliding gently against the surface. He shivers, his legs struggling to remain standing. Noticing this, you drag him to bed, yet again pushing him down.

He chuckles, laying flat on his back, his hair sprawling out like ripples in a lake. His arms are wide open, and you dive into his embrace, your legs straddling his form.

As you pin him down with your weight, you find yourself caressing his face. A drop of your fingers on his long eyelashes, and then they're slowly trickling down to his jaw. You can feel him become still beneath you and your fingers trail beneath the precipice of his jaw to the jugular juts of his Adam's apple. Your touch bobs up and down as he swallows air, his eyes staring into yours... muddled in something you can't quite place your finger on.

You think you hear him breathe a whisper in your direction, but you don't catch what he's saying. Instead, your hands are clasping around his throat, nails kissing his tender skin. A maniacal grin is stamped on his face, his hands laying peacefully to his sides. He doesn't struggle and instead almost seems to lift himself to meet your grip more.

A flush of power overcomes you as you tighten your hold on him just a little more. He's clasping onto the sheets of your bed with his fingers; it's a shame that he'll have to make your bed again later tonight. You watch, intrigued, as his eyes roll up and drool leaves his lips.

You release him gradually, the skin on his neck blooming in colors of wild roses, hawthorns, and cornflowers. A wreath around his neck, as your prized champion and faithful servant. That's what you've given to him.

When you back away, his hand springs out like a geyser and catches your wrist. His grip is gentle but unyielding, and he's looking at you with a satisfied smile and a dangerous gleam in his eyes. He pulls you down, embracing you fully in his arms. You feel something wet and hard beneath you.

"Only take blood from me," he mutters into your ear, appendages like boa constrictors. "Only from me."

You finally rest your eyes, lips painted in his redness.

i welcome and encourage all psychoanalyses of both y/n and dion

-> masterlist

[hastalavistabyebye]

I've been thinking about it for quite some time (and it's a good thing my blog is so smol because a lotta people ain't going to like this) but we need to be honest for two seconds. Fox wouldn't be hated for killing Fives.

It's not the simple usual take on how Fox didn't fired right away and tried to calm Fives down first, how he was just doing his job. This is true but it goes deeper even.

The clones were taught how to deal with traitors.

We saw it with Rex when he met Cut Lawquane. He was faced with a deserter and his first reaction wasn't one of peaceful understanding at all, quite the contrary. Of course he let him go and live with his family in the end. (Interesting to note that there were no officer present too) But what's interesting is not the conclusion he made, but his instinctual, learned behavior : deserters = traitors = bad.

And during the Umbara arc, we saw that the clones also learned how to form a firing squad. They knew how to do that. Yes, in the end, again, they ended up letting their siblings live but there also was the aspect that they already doubt Krell's orders AND that this situation was clearly, stupidly unfair and wrong. And they didn't like nor trust the general himself already. So it was an easy order to go against. But then again what is interesting is that they knew how to do that.

The idea of the Vode not knowing or even being able to conceive shooting a brother, even less killing one, is very sweet but sadly not true. They are soldiers first, born and trained. They would not look kindly to traitors and deserters. They would also know how to court martial the formers, even (or maybe especially) if it's other clones.

All of this to say that Fox killing Fives after he tried to kill the Supreme Chancellor of the Republic ? The highest ranking person in the entire Republic ? And he was also armed, dangerous and out of control AND didn't listen to attempts at calming him. In all of those conditions, very little people would bat an eye to Fox taking those actions.

The only people that would hate Fox are the people close to Fives -Rex and Torrent, Cody and some of the 212th too maybe, by proxy, and Anakin. The Jedi would frown at this, Obi-Wan and Ahsoka maybe more than the rest and would be more affected, because they were close to Fives too.

But the rest of the GAR ? Well of course some won't see it with a kind eye because there's always people to tell you they would have done better, but globally they wouldn't mind so much. Because what Fox did was something they had been, in fact, trained for.

And even if there was a GAR/Guard divide, it wouldn't be this event that make everything goes from bad to worse. It might be one more critic on Fox, it might not be taken kindly. But in the end it would be more because it's Fox and they don't-like-Fox, more than the killing a brother part.

Okay this is longer than I thought it would be 😅 but my point still is : the Vode are soldiers first and foremost. They don't act under the same values and morals as us at all. They were trained to kill enemies of the Republic. If those enemies were among the Republic didn't change a thing. If those enemies were fellow clones didn't change a thing, they were trained to kill them too. So Fox only doing his job in that instant also means that a lot of other Clone Commanders would have done the very same as him. Maybe not all of them, sure (it can depend from their generals) (which Fox don't have from what we know). But maybe some of them wouldn't even have tried to resonate with Fives at all.

The point is : the GAR wouldn't have hate Fox for this. If they hated him, killing Fives wasn't the reason, nor even the starting point most likely.

[delirious-donna]

Until Now [Roronoa Zoro]

an: this was born from a thought I had whilst talking with a friend about one of her favourite men. For my beloved @angelic-muse

pairing: zoro x female reader

warnings: fluff, one playful smack to the chest (his), tickling, zoro being a little constipated with feelings

Masterlist

Smack!

You eyed the hand that landed against the thick wall of muscle with incredulity. The sound echoed around the empty cabin, cutting across the noise of the playful waters that lapped at the ship. Heat poured into your palm, accompanied by a slight sting from the impact. You hadn’t meant to strike with such force; it was to be a love tap, a playful gesture, but that’s not what had transpired.

One dark eyebrow rose. You didn’t dare move except for your eyes rising to meet with dark irises that sparkled like polished coals. How would he take this? Everything was still so new…

Zoro was unaccustomed to affection. He didn’t know what to do with it at the best of times–and that wasn’t to say he wasn’t grateful–it was simply confusing. That’s where this had started, his inability to understand why you sought to wrap him in a hug the very second he walked through the door. Damn, he couldn’t even set down his swords and haramaki before you barrelled into him like he had been gone for months.

Maybe he shouldn’t have called you a pest, even if it was meant as nothing more than a joke. Perhaps he shouldn’t have clicked his teeth and patted the top of your head like you were some young pup. It was hard to navigate this new relationship at the best of times and after a long day of nothing but working out and bickering with a certain someone, it was more so.

“Is it a fight you’re after?” He asked in a faux stern tone. For once, he was the quicker one on his feet—emotionally speaking—and you were the one caught on the back foot.

“N-no.”

“You sure? Cause it seems like it is.” You squirmed beneath his intense stare, taking a step back when he moved forward all whilst your palm still connected to his chest.

You could feel his heartbeat and marvelled at how steady it was when your own was racing faster and faster. Heat washed over you, the impish tongue in your head dry and unmoving—for once. He was so tall, imposing really, and the fact there wasn’t an ounce of fat on his body didn’t escape your notice either. Zoro was a literal wall of strength and he was backing you into a corner.

“Was a joke…” You mumbled shyly, annoyed that he could pull this bashful version of you out.

Zoro huffed out a laugh, amused by the puff of your cheeks and how you couldn’t maintain his eye contact without looking off to the side. Slowly, he removed the swords by his right hip and laid them lovingly on the dresser.

“I don’t know that smacking me like that could be a joke, love. C’mere.”

“Zoro. I am right here,” you wailed, head snapping up to his and only finding a lopsided smirk on his stupidly handsome face.

Sweat glistening on his biceps, the warmth of the now setting sun lingered on his skin as if it wished to cling to him forever and you couldn’t blame it. Your stare wandered freely, perhaps too freely as it left you vulnerable to his intentions. His hands—large and calloused—engulfed most of your waist far too easily.

Oh.”

“Mhm, oh,” he mimicked.

The hand on his chest slid towards his neck whilst you tilted up in expectation of a kiss, lips forming a soft cushion for him but it didn’t come.

Instead, his fingertips moved across your stomach in ticklish sweeps. Higher and higher he moved until he was tickling beneath your arms and caging your writhing body with his and the wall at your back. Unexpected laughter ripped through your throat, torrents of the giggles exploding out of you as he continued his assault with a shit-eating grin.

It was becoming harder to breathe, tears filling your eyes from how relentless he was, and every time you thought you’d managed to wriggle out of his hold it was shutdown.

“Zo-Zoro!! Stop… it!”

He was having far too much fun. If this was what came with a relationship then he could adjust to the other parts that were new to him. After all, he kinda liked that you threw yourself into his arms. Hell if he would admit it, but he adored knowing you zeroed in on his presence the moment you could.

Your laughter was beautiful—a healing balm for the scars not only visible but the ones that he couldn’t even identify. Fuck… maybe he loved you? Ah, that was something to think about another time. Right now, he focused on grasping behind your thighs and lifting you into the air.

Squealing with laughter, you anchored yourself around his neck and gasped for air. Your fingers threaded through the lush green of his hair, gaze softening whilst he walked you towards the bed you shared.

“You win,” you whispered, nose nudging his cheek until he paused.

He won the moment you walked into his life. He wasn’t going to tell you that, not now, but he knew. It was difficult to realise you were missing something until you found it. The swordsman had a goal, a dream and a promise to keep. What he lacked was a reason to stay alive after he fulfilled those dreams and promises—until now.

Zoro nodded. “I always do.”

[megvmijx]

𐙚YOU’RE MY LIGHT - geto suguru

୭˚. ᵎᵎ notes: angst but it turns fluffy towards the end, swearing, crying, geto is worried, and boy he’s stressed for his gf.

since you had always been assigned different missions, the moments in which you were together during the day were very few, with the exception of the evening when, tired as ever, you returned to your room for a quick shower, impatient to be in each other's arms.

unfortunately, you had always been used to seeing your boyfriend come home late at night with an exhausted and tired expression, that of someone who can't take it anymore and knows he has to protect himself and his mental health but who always puts the lives of others and his duty first, always ending up in exaggeratedly dangerous situations and trying his best to get out of them unharmed.

but there were times when you too would cross the threshold of the room with a few bruises on your body, but by now you had gotten used to it: it was not possible to fight curses without feeling their effects on your body and your mind. but this is what you were born for, so you tried to live with that.

your head was pounding, every step was like torture, you walked by instinct, otherwise you would have collapsed on the ground helpless, waiting for someone to find you and take you to the infirmary. you had to go back to geto, but what would be his reaction? the expedition had gone worse than expected, geto had not taken part since he had to run some errands in tokyo, it was always much more difficult without him.

blood had never shocked you, but seeing so much of it coming out of your left arm had alarmed you, even if only a little, but among all that noise you had managed to hear shoko's voice yelling at you to go away, to let her and gojo handle it. it would be better if you went back and recovered, you weren't in a good state and they probably would have had to put stitches given the depth of the wound that went from your elbow to your wrist.

holding on to the handle after dragging yourself down the hall, you slowly opened the door, revealing your body covered in bruises and wounds, one right under your eye. you were already prepared to hear geto yell at you about how you should have been more careful, but he wasn’t there. maybe it was for the best. closing the door you headed towards the bathroom, a small but functional space and, opening one of the many drawers, you found a bandage and some plasters. perfect.

you had to hurry up as much as possible, at least fix your wounds a little before geto arrived, so as not to show up in front of him in that pitiful state. but all you felt was anger, a blinding anger that went to your head. it wasn't a feeling foreign to you, you had always felt it throughout your life but in moments like these it hit you much more, you felt it all over your body.

anger for not being able to handle the situation, to let your power prevail over that of the curse. at this point you didn't even know whether to continue being a sorcerer or give up everything, go back to your monotonous life in tokyo. what was the point of it anyway?

with tears stinging your eyes you rubbed a wet cloth on the wound violently, trying to make the blood disappear, but it seemed to have become part of the skin, continuing to come out in torrents. you had probably dirtied the whole floor.

but when you heard the door open and then close again, you stopped dead in your tracks, looking at your reflection in the mirror, you didn't recognize the reflection: disheveled hair, cheeks furrowed by deep tears and a cut under your eye that went all the way to your lip. but you couldn't move.

“y/n?” geto called you from the bedroom, looking for you in the room. his footsteps were getting closer and closer to the bathroom door and now all hope that he might not see you was dead, you had to face what was about to happen. the cloth fell into the sink, staining it with blood and you leaned on its edge with your hands, supporting your helpless weight.

“what’s going on?” the door was wide open and his tall figure was standing in the doorframe, a confused expression on his face. but as soon as he saw the state you were in and the red cloth in the sink he immediately ran to your side, taking your left arm and inspecting the wound. “what happened, y/n? talk to me, please.” his voice was broken, he couldn’t believe you were hurt so badly.

you quickly removed your arm from his grip to bring it back to yours, blood staining your uniform. “it’s nothing.” your face was turned away so you wouldn’t have to look at his broken gaze, but unfortunately you could see him through the reflection in the mirror.

“do you call this nothing?” he screamed in disbelief, his brows furrowed. “you have blood all over your body. y/n, please, tell me what happened.” his tone was pleading and he was begging you to speak with such a broken voice it made you feel guilty about yourself, for not wanting to talk about it. “it’s nothing i told you, i just got hurt during a mission. i got it.” you took the cloth from the si k and started rubbing it on your arm, more violently than before.

“stop, stop.” he demanded, taking it from your hand and washing the blood away with warm water. “you’re only gonna hurt yourself more.” “i said that i got it.” those words came out of your mouth just like a knife, but you hated when people tried to help you, you had to do it on your own. you took the cloth from his hand and turned around, cleaning your wound.

“why are you being like this?” he asked from behind. “i just wanna help you.” but that was simply too much, it only added more stress to what you were already facing in that moment, you didn’t need it. “i don’t want your help!” you screamed turning to face him for the last time, words coming out uncontrollably like the tears from your eyes, flooding your cheeks and falling in the crook of your neck. you walked out, hitting his shoulder and still keeping the cloth firmly on your wound.

you sat on the bed, the tears were now stinging your eyes, you couldn’t see almost anything, your vision blurred, but you could feel geto’s presence right beside you, taking place on the bed. you sat there in silence for a bit, he wasn’t the type to give up on something or someone so easily, he just waited for you to calm down by caressing your back soothingly, with so much love, the one he had for you.

“i’m sorry.” you sniffled one more time, passing your hand on your cheeks. your head was still pounding hard and the blood was now dry on your arm. he cupped your chin with his hand, turining you to face him. “it’s okay.” his voice was comforting as he tried his best to smile. “can i take this?” he pointed at the cloth. you nodded softly as he tooks it gently from your hand, starting to rub it against your skin to wash the blood away.

you flinched at the sudden contact, but he was being so careful not to hurt you. “m’sorry, baby.” as soon as all the blood disappeared, he asked you if you needed to go to the infirmary. “i don’t think that’s necessary.” “you sure?” he placed a hand on your cheek, tracing your now scar with his thumb. you nodded, smiling.

“you know that if anything ever happens to you, you have to come to me, right?” he looked you in the eyes, serious as ever. “yeah, i know.” you whispered, suddenly finding your shoes very interesting. “thank you, for this.” you pointed at your arm, now covered in a white bandage.

“it’s nothing.” he mocked you with a smile before leaning in and leaving a soft peck on your lips. “i’ll do my best to not get you hurt again.”

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ nina.

[devildomwriter]

All Spells & Magic

7-20

Solomon: “…Denizens of the darkness, awaken! You who are born of shadow, hear me! I am the one called Solomon. I call upon you now to lend your power to Asmodeus, Avatar of Lust!”

8-13

MC: “…Hear me, denizens of the darkness, you who are born of shadow and you who give birth to it. Hear me and do as I command! …Denizens of the darkness, awaken! You who are born of shadow, hear me! I call upon you now to lend your power to Asmodeus, Avatar of Lust!”

11-12

Group: “Elohim Essaim Frugativi et appelavi… Come to us…we beseech you… Hear our words…head our summons… Show yourself…appear before us…”

13-14

Barbatos: “Hear my voice and heed my command. These words are sound…the sound, melody. And through it I bind thee, and rob thee of they freedom.”

29-12

Satan: “Forces of calamity, disaster, and misfortune! Rain down upon the one who stands before me…”

Mammon: “D’ah! Stop! What kind curse are you puttin’ on me, anyway?!”

Satan: “Bidibriupyon fath parthu…”

MC: “Bidibriupyon fath parthu…”

29-12

Satan: “May the vestiges of the curse that linger within the person before me be eliminated. I am the one they call Satan…Hear my command!””

30-13

Satan: “May our bodies be drawn together and bound together, by a force none can resist and none can escape…”

30-13

MC: “…Calm the unease that gnaws at this demons, and bring peace to his heart!”

35-2

Solomon: “…Spirit of wind, the magician Solomon commands thee! Shield the ears of those who stand before me! Rid them of their lust for water, and silence the siren’s voice!”

35-9

Solomon: “I am the magician Solomon… Heed my words! Open the way forward, and create a path where there was none!”

36-16

Solomon: “May this vile curse return to the one who conjured it. Turn back the hands of time and unwind the wrong-doing that triggered it. I am the magician Solomon… Hear my command! Let none oppose it, and none escape it!”

37-1

MC: “Spirit of earth, cover the mouth of the one who lies before me, and silence his cries forever…”

37-1

MC: “May the vestiges of pain that linger within the demon before me be eliminated!”

44-1

MC: “Spirit of water…Suppress this torrent…”

44-1

MC: “May the vestiges of pain that linger within the demon before me be eliminated… I am the one they call MC… Hear my command!”

45-7

Solomon: “…I call upon the earth itself to shackle the one who stands before me. Leave them bound and helpless. I am the sorcerer Solomon…Answer my call!”

46-1

Mammon: ”Spirit of wind, I command you! Arise, Pierce the darkness, and bring that tiny demon to me! I am Mammon, Avatar of Greed! Hear and obey me!””

46-1

MC: “…Beelzebub, your master MC commands you… Cast aside this wicked creature so he may bother us no more!”

46-10

MC: “…Denizens if darkness, awaken! Hear me, you who are born of shadow! I am MC, the master who commands Beelzebub, the Avatar of Gluttony. I call upon you now to lend your power to this demon!”

46-10

Solomon: “Spirit of wind, calm yourself. Spirit of earth, sleep.”

53-4

Solomon: “Grant those who stand before me temporary forms, so that they appear as animals. Solomon the sorcerer wills it. Hear me, and let it be done!”

56-3

MC: “O winds of protection, shield him.”

56-3

MC: ”O fires of judgment…”

58-2

MC: “Hear me, O light born of shadow! Come forth and repel this evil spirit!”

58-12

Beelzebub: “Evil spirit, sinister and foul! In the name of Beelzebub, Avatar of Gluttony…be gone!”

58-15

Satan: “Evil spirit, sinister and foul! Return to the darkness from whence you came!Witness my rage and behold your doom, from ashes to ashes, dust to dust…”

58-18

Lucifer: “Evil spirit, sinister and foul! Return to the darkness from whence you came! Witness my power and behold your doom, from ashes to ashes, dust to dust…”

58-19

MC: “…May the vestiges of fear that linger within the angel before me be eliminated. I am the one they call MC…hear my command.”

59-1

Mammon: “Wh-What just happened?! That blast of wind that hit me…was that magic?!”

Lucifer: “Ah, so you conjured that gust of wind, and sent Mammon flying onto the couch before he could step on the vacuum…Well done, MC.” *no spell is said aloud, as using magic without incantation is a sign of more poweeerful magic, and MC can now summon wind without using any words*

60-3

*It’s implied MC can use levitation magic to grab items far away*

61-1

MC: “…In the name of the sorcerer MC, I command you. Create a path where there is none…And lead me where I wish to go.”

61-14

MC: “Hear me, O spirit of wind! Awaken the demon who slumbers before me! In the name of the Sorcerer MC, I command you!”

62-11

MC: “…Hear me! Spirit of water, rain down upon the demon before me. In the name of the sorcerer, MC, make it so…”

62-11

MC: “…Spirit of wind, bring your force to bear on the demon before me!”

62-14

MC: “Spirit of water, rain down!”

62-14

MC: “Spirit of water, send forth a cataclysmic deluge!”

64-17

MC: “…In the name of the sorcerer MC, I command you! Create a path where there is none! And lead us where we wish to go.”

65-11

MC: “Spirit of wind, protect him!”

66-4

MC: “Spirit of fire, send forth your flames…

66-4

MC: “Spirit of water, rain down upon him…”

66-4

MC: “Spirit of wind, send forth a gale…”

66-4

MC: “Create a path where there is none!”

66-4

MC: “Spirit of earth, cover his mouth and silence him!”

66-4

MC: “I bind thee, and rob thee of thy freedom!”

Solomon: “Looks like you’re shortening the incantation like a pro! Just what I’d expect from my talented apprentice!”

66-19

MC: “I bind thee…And rob thee of thy freedom!”

68-7

MC: “May the illusion clouding my mind be dispelled! I am the one they call MC. Hear my command.”

68-11

MC: “…Hear me…Spirit of wind, calm yourself. Spirit of earth, sleep! In the name of the sorcerer MC, I command you…”

68-19

MC: “The sorcerer MC commands you…Come forth, feline…”

70-15

MC: “The sorcerer MC commands you! Come forth, super-rare book…”

70-17

MC: “In the name of the sorcerer MC, I draw upon my pact with the ring of light……Come forth, Lucifer!”

74-17

MC: “Hear me, and heed my call. In the name of the sorcerer MC, I draw upon my pact with the ring of light. Come forth, Lucifer…”

76-11

MC: “Hear me, spirit of wind. I call for your protection! In the name of the sorcerer MC, I call upon you…”

78-16

Solomon: “Are you ready? In order to remove a magic item from inside a solid object here’s what you do. First, condense as much of your own magic energy as possible, creating a ball of magical light. This ball of concentrated magic needs to be at least as powerful as the item you want to remove. Okay, I think this should be enough. Then you thrust your condensed magic orb into the tree, forcing the magic item inside out. Once the item has been removed, the tree will return to normal.”

79-14

MC: “…In the name of the sorcerer MC, I command you…Create a path where there is none…And lead us to those who require our help…”

80-16 H

MC: “Hear me, denizens of the darkness, you who are born of shadow and you who give birth to it. Hear me and do as I command! I, MC, call upon you to send forth one of your number! I summon the avatar of envy, Leviathan…”

[raekensluver]

shadows of the past (3)

part one, part two

description: reuniting with with your ex-boyfriend theodore nott after two years was the moment you had been looking forward to since the war.

pairing: ex-boyfriend!death eater!theodore nott x fem!reader

contains: angst, talks of the war of hogwarts, happy ending!

song rec: love like ghosts by: lord huron- "baby in my eyes you do no wrong"

w.c: 2.5k

an: last part! i'm so excited to complete my first series! i appreciate feedback! let me know what you thought! (original title was broken promises)

the cobblestone streets of the quaint french town were bathed in the warm, golden light of the setting sun. a gentle breeze carried the scent of fresh bread and blooming flowers from nearby windowsills, mingling with the faint whispers of the evening's approaching coolness. your hair dancing in the wind, ambled along the narrow alleyways, your eyes scanning the unfamiliar sights. the war had left its scars, but you were healing, including your heart which had learned to mend. you had moved here to escape the shadows of your past, to start anew, and perhaps, find some semblance of peace.

as you passed the charming, dusty bookstore, something tugged at the corner of your eye. It was a simple place, with a wooden sign creaking gently in the breeze. the allure of the books within was too strong to resist. you pushed open the door, and the familiar scent of aged pages and ink enveloped you like a comforting embrace. the bell chimed a cheerful greeting, and you felt the weight of the world lighten just a bit. the shelves were packed tightly, a maze of stories and knowledge waiting to be discovered. you lost yourself in the aisles, your fingertips tracing the spines of books that whispered promises of adventure and romance.

it was in the shadow of the history section that you saw him. theo. frozen in place, you stared for a moment, unable to believe that after all this time, fate had led you both to this book-filled sanctuary. he looked the same yet different; his eyes had lost the haunted look that had once lingered in their depths, replaced by a softness that made your heart ache with longing. he looked up from the book he was holding, and when your eyes met, time seemed to stop. the pain of the past two years washed over you in a torrent of emotions, but so did the love that had never truly disappeared.

"theodore," you murmured, your voice barely a whisper. he looked up, surprise flitting across his features before they softened into recognition. he closed the book gently and took a step towards you, his hand reaching out tentatively. "i can't believe it's you," he said, his voice thick with emotion. you stepped closer, and he enveloped you in a warm embrace that felt like coming home after a long, cold journey. you held onto him tightly, feeling the steady beat of his heart against yours, the same rhythm that had once been your lullaby.

when you pulled away, there were tears in your eyes. "how have you been?" you asked, your voice shaking slightly. he sighed, his eyes scanning the lines of your face, the newfound strength in your posture. "i've been surviving," he replied, his voice filled with a sadness that mirrored your own. "the war… it changed us all." you nodded, understanding the unspoken words that hung between you. the choices he had made, the burdens he had borne to keep you safe, were etched into the very fabric of your shared history.

theo reached into his pocket and pulled out a small chain necklace. the swan charm glinted in the soft light, just as it had the night you gave it to him at hogwarts. "i've kept it with me," he said, his voice hoarse. "every day, i thought of you. i wanted to come back to you." you took the necklace, feeling the weight of its significance in your palm.

you both sat down on a small bench by the window, surrounded by the silent witnesses of bound pages. theo spoke of his time in battle, his efforts to dismantle the death eater network from within, and his fear of what might happen if you had been caught in the crossfire. each word was a step back in time, a painful reminder of the love you had to sacrifice for the sake of safety. yet, as he spoke, you realized that the war had changed him. there was a newfound resolve in his eyes, a determination to right the wrongs of his past

you shared your own tale of survival, the quiet moments of hope you had clung to while the world around you crumbled. the friends lost, the battles won, and the painful realization that life goes on, even when hearts are left shattered. you had moved on, but theo remained a constant in your thoughts, a question mark in the narrative of your life that you longed to resolve.

"i waited for you," you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. "every night, I'd look at the moon and wonder if you were out there, doing what you had to do." theo's eyes searched yours, seeking forgiveness and understanding. "i know it doesn't change anything, but i need you to know that i never stopped loving you." his hand found yours, weaving your fingers together as if trying to reconnect the threads of your shattered hearts.

the air in the bookstore grew thick with unspoken words and the echoes of a love that had been buried but never forgotten. theo's thumb brushed against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. "i've missed you so much," he said, his voice cracking. "every day, every moment, it was like a piece of me was gone."

you leaned into his touch, feeling the warmth spread through your body. "me too," you whispered, your eyes glistening. "i didn't think i could ever love anyone else."

the silence that followed was filled with the quiet thud of your heartbeats, echoing in the small space. theo's gaze dropped to the necklace in your hand. "i had to find you," he murmured. "i couldn't live with the thought of you moving on without knowing the truth."

you looked up at him, hope flickering in your eyes. "what truth?"

theo took a deep breath, his grip on your hand tightening. "the night i left, i was given a choice. a terrible, impossible choice. to become a death eater, or to watch you suffer." his eyes searched yours, seeking absolution. "i thought if i could infiltrate them, protect you from the inside, it would be better than letting you live in fear. i didn't want you to be part of that world."

your heart clenched at his words. the sacrifice he had made, the torment he must have endured, all to keep you safe. you squeezed his hand in return, feeling the weight of his pain. "i understand," you said, your voice trembling. "but why didn't you tell me?"

theo's eyes searched yours, filled with regret. "i was afraid," he admitted. "afraid that if you knew, you'd try to stop me. or worse, you'd think i didn't love you enough to fight for us." he took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "but i was wrong. i should have trusted you."

you nodded, the tears spilling over your lashes. "we both made mistakes," you said, your voice thick with emotion. "but we're here now, and that's what matters." the bookstore had grown dimmer, the sun setting outside casting a warm glow on the two of you. the world outside felt far away, and for a moment, it was just you and theo, two lost souls finding each other again.

theo reached into his pocket and pulled out a small parchment, folded neatly. "i wrote you more letters," he said, his voice low. "every week, i wrote to tell you how much i loved you, to explain what i was doing. but i never sent them." he handed the parchment to you, his eyes pleading for you to understand. you took it, feeling the warmth of his touch still lingering on the paper.

as you unfolded the parchment, the ink looked fresh, as if the words had been written just moments ago. you read the first line, your eyes blurring with tears. "my dearest," it began, and with each word, you felt the love that had been trapped between the lines for so long. It was a testament to the depth of his feelings, a chronicle of his pain and longing.

"why didn't you send them?" you asked, your voice choked with emotion. theo looked down at his hands, which were now clenched tightly in his lap. "i was afraid of giving you false hope," he said, his voice barely audible. "and if they had been found, it would have put you in danger. i wanted to protect you."

you took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his words. "but you were also protecting me from the truth," you said softly. "and that hurt almost as much as the lie." theo nodded, his eyes filled with remorse. "i know," he said. "but i had to believe that one day, we'd be together again. that's what kept me going."

the bell over the door jingled, interrupting the solemn moment. the bookstore owner, a plump woman with a kind smile, called out in french, reminding you of the time. theo glanced at the door, then back at you. "will you walk with me?" he asked. "i have so much more to tell you."

you nodded, the parchment clutched tightly in your hand. as you stepped out into the cool evening air, the cobblestone streets had transformed into a canvas of shadows and light. the town had come alive with the whispers of the night, the distant sound of laughter, and the faint strums of a guitar. theo led you to a quiet park, the play of shadows from the street lamps dancing across the benches. you sat down, the night air wrapping around you like a soft blanket.

theo began to speak, his voice low and earnest. he recounted his time through the war, the battles he had fought, and the moments he had doubted himself. his words painted a picture of a man torn between his love for you and his duty to the cause he had been forced to serve. each letter was a secret confession, a silent declaration of his enduring love, trapped within the bounds of fear and duty. you listened, your heart aching for the pain he had endured.

as he talked, you felt the pieces of your shattered past slowly fitting back together. the anger and hurt began to dissipate, replaced by a profound understanding of the weight of the choices he had made. you reached out and touched his cheek, feeling the stubble that had grown there. "i'm here now," you said, your voice firm. "and i'm not going anywhere."

as the stars began to peek out from behind the clouds, casting a soft glow over the park, theo reached the end of his tale. the silence that followed was filled with the heavy weight of the past and the delicate promise of a future. you studied his face, the lines of exhaustion etched into his skin, the shadows under his eyes that spoke of countless sleepless nights.

you leaned in and kissed him gently, tasting the salt of his tears. it was a kiss that contained all the words you couldn't say, all the moments you had missed, and all the love that had never truly waned. his arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer as if he were afraid you might disappear again. you felt the warmth of his breath against your cheek, the steady beat of his heart echoing your own.

when you pulled away, theo's eyes searched yours, looking for reassurance. "can you forgive me?" he asked, his voice ragged with hope. you nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. "we both have a lot to forgive," you said. "but i think we've suffered enough."

theo's shoulders relaxed, and he leaned his forehead against yours. "i promise," he murmured, "to never keep secrets from you again." you felt the sincerity in his words, the depth of his regret. "i know," you whispered back. "and i promise to trust you, no matter what."

as you sat there, the quiet night sounds of the town wrapping around you, you realized that the war had not only stolen your present but had also tried to claim your future. but here you were, together again, and the love that had once burned so brightly between you was rekindling. it was fragile, yes, but it was also fierce, a testament to the strength of the bond you shared.

theo's hand found yours again, and he entwined your fingers, as if by doing so, he could weave back together the threads of time that had been torn apart. "what now?" he asked, his voice filled with hope and trepidation. "we start again," you said, squeezing his hand firmly. "we build a new life, together."

as you both stood, the chill of the evening air seemed to dissipate with the lingering shadows of the past. theo led you through the winding streets, the cobblestones cool underfoot, the gas lamps casting a warm glow that danced in your eyes.

you walked hand in hand, the quiet companionship of the night wrapping around you like a comforting blanket. the conversation flowed easily, as if the two years apart had been nothing but a brief intermission in a lifelong dialogue. you shared your new life in france, the people you had met, and the quiet moments of joy you had found amidst the ruins of the past. theo listened intently, his eyes never leaving yours, as if he were trying to absorb every detail, every memory.

as you approached the small apartment that had become your sanctuary, you felt a twinge of nervousness. the walls held the whispers of your solitude, the echoes of your tears, and now, they would bear witness to the rekindling of a love that had been buried but never truly forgotten. theo seemed to sense your apprehension and squeezed your hand gently. "i'm here," he murmured, the words a gentle reminder that you were no longer alone.

you unlocked the door, the familiar creak a comforting sound in the stillness of the night. the warm glow of the fireplace spilled into the room, casting a warm, flickering light on the worn armchair where you had spent countless evenings lost in thought. theo followed you inside, his eyes taking in the cozy space that held the essence of your soul. he set the letters down on the small wooden table, a silent promise that he would share all of himself with you, just as you had shared your heart.

the fire crackled and danced in the grate, casting shadows across the floor. you both sat down on the sofa, the fabric worn smooth from the countless times you had curled up there with a book. the silence was filled with the soft whispers of the flame and the beating of your hearts, a rhythm that had once been lost but now found again.

[the-monkeies-girl]

Chimp Mosh Pit. ( Noa x Human! Reader. ) Part 10.

*Bad Ape voice* ohhhhh noooooo.

Title: Chimp Mosh Pit. Fandom: ( Kingdom of the ) Planet of the Apes. Rating: T. ( Violence, weapons used, Ape Aggression, mentions of blood, intense moments of being on deaths door step. Good luck. ) Pairing: Noa x Human!Reader. Words: 7.1K+ Summary: Remember when you said Death brought new beginnings? READ THE SERIES HERE.

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・●・○・

There was one thing that was clearer than the river Noa and you enjoyed time and time again as a peaceful offering between Echo and Ape. Something that ran through the land like splitting opinions, slicing its torrent edges against an already weak sediment, taking advantage of the submission of dirt and claiming it as their own with a flush of moisture; a fighter in its own way that was never known to either of you as you thought it to be tame, soothing and gentle like the Clan itself. The Eagle Clan were not combative. Surely, there was the juxtaposition that they inherently were from being Apes, more powerful in countless other aspects than just strength to their Echo counterparts. 

But Noa knew --- at least he tried to convince his racing mind, the tenderizing of his flesh from another fist ghosting over his rib cage for a moment as if the male Ape were lost in the time that floated between then and now, scattering memories of your gazes, your hands near his own, the red seeping from his nose, the snarling of teeth flushed with his gargling saliva and iron-tasting blood…  Noa needed to remember how it felt to be pulverized in order to learn, in order to garner attention from you, sending a spiral of fear to radiate down his entire spine, down to his legs where he told himself he needed to keep standing and to not run away. 

What… If he never did? What if he never got you to look at him with those eyes that said more than anything that was ever said before? 

Your scent was still powerful, rising and falling into his nose like you were basking in front of him on a hot day, your chest wildly adorned with sweat as he watched a few droplets fall beneath the bridge of your breast, obscured by fabric as you flashed him a smile that was undetectable, your eyes knowing that he had been watching the delectation of moisture build up against your skin, feeling so envious that it got to caress you in the ways that he wanted to, how Noa yearned to leave a trail of his own spit morbidly against any crevice you would let him sink into.

The Clan seemed such a tack-note to him, shame rising at the idea that he’d let them burn it down now if it meant he could run towards you, to find where Soona had taken you, just to bargain against your unconscious, emotionless face… Wake up for me, please… I let you go once, I will never do it again… 

All you need to do…

Was.

Wake.

Up.

For me.

From his travels with Raka and the other Echo he had experienced, having to defending himself against the likes of a Bonobo who had many more years of experience, having to stand up for his Clan who considered him not worthy of the title Master of the Birds, it was clear in the way they looked at him compared to his Father, Noa needed to remember. How often he wondered if he’d ever set a standard like that with his own hands, with his own mind but it seemed impenetrable until he came out victorious once and he was suddenly engorged with power he didn't know how to yield, and having fought a Tyrant King only to burden a crown twice as heavy.

But, he thought back to it and looked at Anaya next to him, sharing an all knowing glance of self-preservation, knowing they were both on the same wavelength, a sure fire way to know that they were born within a blazing sunset, they shared their feelings without having to verbalize, they emoted their consciousness by sharing a stare, nothing more, green digging into more green that in itself, held the answer to everything, held the fire that was needed to come out victorious. In unison, they both looked back towards the threat. 

This was a fight intended for two Apes and a group of six Echo, their weapons unknown but surely tucked away, disguised and waiting, bloodthirsty for the moment where they got to taste flesh and bone. Anything - Noa’s eyes flickered against the horse, anything there, tied to the rear of the animal in the bags it carried heavily against it side sadistically, the dangling of a dagger against the female Echo in the forefront for his vision, it was placed on her chest, wrapped around her neck like a piece of ceremonious jewelry, flashing Noa to think of the necklaces his Father wore, so mild in their design, but so powerful and spoke words that did not need to be spoke. His stomach turned.

Anything could be used against them, Noa knew but was his mind able to comprehend such details in the midst of a fight? Would his instincts finally rest themselves against his diaphragm so he could fight to defend what was his?

Noa felt a subversive and uncomfortable notion resting inside of him, something that consecutively played against his greatest weakness and years of self-deprecating comparisons to his Father - He felt confident. Something that made the bile rise in the back of his throat, and no amount of swallowing was going to get it to go away so he opted to growl towards the male in a display of power, in a way that told him that he was going to adversely rip the very emotions off his face and hold them in his hand as a victory, blood spearing against Noa and marking him a capable Leader of the finest order, a monster in all regards, tongue sweeping over sharpened canines as he’d beam at the crunch the Echo body would make upon impact on the ground. 

Such gruesome thoughts flashing before him that he couldn’t get out of the forefront of his vision--- Your eyes swollen shut, mouth ajar with bloodied saliva falling from it, the fragile bob of your head, Noa wanting nothing more than to take it into his hands, flashing him back in time to the moments when you complained about your neck being sore after sleeping weird --

Such thoughts tangling with the aggression in his beating skull were all he needed. He knew Anaya could do this, there was no lack of confidence in his friend being more agile and a bit of a showoff at times and he was aware that it was a brilliant tactic to use in a fight against already intelligent Echo’s who probably had their own aberrant plan of what they were going do. 

Noa was an intellectual fighter, using things available to him instead of brute strength, something that rested uneasily in the taut muscles of his body, not fully used to the potential he wanted but that was more due to strength never needing to be used extensively in hand-to-hand combat.

He had--- His leafy gaze caught eyes with the female and he felt his mouth drop at the pure malice that dripped from her darkened irises as she stared right back at him, like a black queen on her throne she pierced down at him from the saddle of her horse. Noa had played his nature as an Ape once before, something that should make him a good fighter along the tree of life, and it cost his Fathers life and half the village, the countless that were lost then and then more that were lost in the aquatics when Mae blew up the dam holding back water.

Chimps… Could not swim, his hands grazing against bodies in the water as he tried to fight for the rest of them, knowing he had caused deaths in himself and in others. He’d lost Raka to the same force of nature, he had lost many of his Clan, and he was bargaining now inside of his mind how many could be lost by another element as he caught wind of the smoke blowing from the torches the Echo’s held, getting a mouth full of a disgusting tweed from the hut that had already been set on fire. 

Once again, he thought to himself and drew a hard breath in through his nose, the Eagle Clan were peaceful Apes - They never had a reason to fight other Apes, let alone an Echo pack. He was smart - that was the only confidence that was seeping from his pores, the rest of the notions were all superficial and ungrazed, unused and made Noa want to hunch in on himself near his Fathers grave and apologize once more for not being able to stop the infliction of destruction.

Dilated green eyes, eclipsed like the moon that beckoned in on a scheduled basis in the sky, sank into the male and tracing any lines of intellect that he was able to detect. There was nothing for him to analyze there, his mind racing at the prospect that were were some Echo’s whose eyes were unreadable - Unlike.. Noa’s hand balled into a fist before relaxing again at his side, waiting to sign to Anaya that it was time. 

Unlike your eyes. 

Noa’s hackles rose upon his shoulders at the scope of them captivating his own in a wild dance that he didn't know the steps to, breathing more rapid fire than before as he prepared his body, the muscles rippling from the aspect that he was more than likely going to get hit, leaving an undertone of uncomfort to lift in his mind along with the fur of his body. Noa’s fingers flexed at his side. 

‘Go.’

Anaya was the first to lunge forward, all four appendages ripping at the ground below and tearing Earth a few inches into the air before it collapsed back down, sad against its comrades as it had been destroyed. Tearing through the resistance of the air without a reserve, teeth bared and a large growl. Noa - Stagnant for a moment watched, entranced, envious that Anaya was… Not scared. 

So many times he was even scared at a ladybug that once crawled onto his forehead and fluttered its tiny wings against his leathery skin. Absolutely carnage, he managed to take down the female Echo’s horse with such ease kicking the legs out from under its weight with a skid against the dirt, Anaya’s fur delicately traced with sediment now on one side from the audacity of the action itself. The animal itself pained and Noa felt a shred of empathy for them as they hit the ground, straggling along with the Echo that went down with it. Without reserve, the provisions on the back of her horse, strapped so tightly, were scattered, a testament to just how hard his friend had hit. 

The animalistic abomination Anaya had in her hair has his long fingers tangled in, giving way into leverage as he began dragging her through the dirt, her hands reaching up to struggle against it as her feet splayed outwards in some desperate way to get him to stop, skirting the heels of her worn boots into the dirt that was imprinting her scraped body, bloody screams taking hold into the air as Noa sensed Soona’s return as she began the proper evacuations of the Eagle Clan with assistance from his Mother as the flames of the one hut tore itself against the flush field around the Colony and had its set gaze on the large embankment of huts that surrounded the Eagle Enclosure and the towering nests of the families.

Noa tired to focus on the situation at hand, knowing that the two female Apes would do what they could to get everyone out in time with the help of the Elders. He couldn’t find it in himself to worry about that in the middle of a fight. Noa turned his focus to Anaya once more and felt salivation hit his tongue at the primal intent that the Ape was displaying. It was like there was utmost satisfaction paid towards Anaya’s curiosity to the extreme of what it felt like to hold such power. Hard to bring down other Apes, easy to take down Echo’s and all their fragility. 

Noa snapped out of his self-doubt at that moment when he touched base on… That’s how it must have been for you, struggling to fight against a beast whose strength was going to tear you apart, the twigs that ended up in your hair, smearing blood and dirt into the finer details of your face and hair, your screams… Wondering when it was going to end, when the blunted weapon that knocked you unconscious would take your last breath.

Noa… Hated himself that you ended up like that, gargling on your own blood, your eyes unable to see what was happening to you as you scraped your hands in front of you in a last ditch effort to save yourself from being killed. 

He’d kill them just for looking at you, that thought radiating and taking hold of all of his senses, the tips of his fingers tickling himself in excitement, his breathing hard and fast through his nose as Noa yearned to do nothing more than to bare his teeth. The Ape would wait for that - Until this man was under his foot, pressing him down into the depths of the Earth itself, to burn under Noa’s weight as he crushed his rib cage first, hoping the bones would fall inwards and puncture his lungs. Only then… Would he smile at them. Give them the satisfaction of knowing that they had played a game against an Ape who wanted an eye for life. Not an eye for an eye, otherwise Noa would just beat them to a bloody pulp and let them leave.

 He was going to kill the Echo just to seek some revenge, knowing that the guilt of letting you leave in the first place was more of the reason he was fighting. For every cry you gave, he imagined some towards Noa himself, some towards the heavens as you begged for it to end, to be over so you could fall asleep and never recollect the terror you had been through. No one, Noa growled, his chest broadening in strict possession and acute aggravation. No one would lay a hand on you again, no one would make you cry out of anything other than exhalation or pleasure, those only reserved for Noa. He twisted his neck, the muscles primed for him and he peered at the prospect in front of him.

The large Chimp, primed to look bigger than usual by the swagger of his shoulders in conjecture with the muscles of his biceps, took a step forward, toes digging hard into the ground as he began to drive himself forward with intense and scrutinizing leverage, staring straight at the male in front of him, knowing now that he was not going to take the same route as Anaya by taking down the fragile horse first. Noa was going to go straight for the source of the problem itself.

Yes, this female Echo, thrown against the side of another hut out of the corner of Noa’s vision as Anaya brought his fist down directly onto her sternum, had to have been what happened, he was sure of it, falling onto all fours, the Echo male touching the holster on the right side of his body in anticipation. He may think he was fast, but was he faster than Noa? The question tickled the back of his mind and he wanted nothing more than to get that answer to soothe that intent of knowledge. 

The lunge he took forward was disgusting in all descriptions of the word, Noa felt like his teeth were going to shatter themselves into tiny shards inside of his mouth and he’d be forced to swallow them all in a nice grit. The shout - It was something that Noa himself found terrifying, not recognizable to his own ears as it tore through the entire Clan, captivating a few other Apes in their escape, including Anaya who looked over at him for just a split second, blood now falling from his mouth as he had torn into the female Echo he was working on, directly into her throat and tore it clean out of her body, the muscles being spit out and discarded wildly to now be coated with dirt as it rolled onto the ground.

Licking at it, he looked down at her with vicious intent, praised at himself and sought his next target, the other female, who having seen what happened to her fellow Echo, only peered in fear as Anaya drew closer, the color leaving her body as she went to grab a blunted iron staff from the hold it had against her back.

Noa’s body slammed against the male Echo without reserve, taking him down to the ground below and kissed the palm of his hand in a smear as Noa’s hand forced him down eat dirt, trying to control the struggle the horse found as they were knocked off balance, legs flailing and Noa wanted to break them all in a way to get the unabashed movement to stop under him. He relented that control, feeling the sick twist of Echo skin under his calloused touch as the male he had his fingernails dug into grunted, but did not fight back.

Noa shouted at them, right into their ear in a bid to get them to do something against him. Where was the satisfaction in killing an Echo when they did not fight back? Flurried eye contact was made with the other male a few meters away, Noa crushing the skull of one and peering right in front of him at the other, canines showing themselves only once now in a warning to him. He’d kill him if he came any closer.

He’d rip that beating jugular right out in the name of the Eagle Clan itself. No one hurt him, no one hurt his Echo, no one hurt his Clan, his people and sanctuary. Coming down harder, his entire weight pressed down on the male he had under him and Noa skirted him enough away from the horse, the male's feet mimicking the actions of the horse almost down to the tee to completely render the flailing useless as they managed to get onto their feet and run off. 

Thunder hit the male Apes ears, Anaya frenzied from his tussle with the female looking up at the sound he had only heard once before in his life. Noa’s eyes glancing up at the completely clear sky, save from the dancing twinkles of the stars as they joined the moon on their nightly ventures. No clouds… Noa grunted, collapsing first onto his knees as he tried to salvage his balance but found himself unable as if gravity itself were failing the very concepts that held items to Mother Earth. He fell forward, hard as a bellow of dirt encapsulated him, drifting downwards onto his fur. With his face pressing into the ground, Noa ripped a growl straight from the depths of his throat, mimicking that same noise he had heard only moments ago in a display of fevered intensity, swallowed whole by agony pilling itself in the forefront of his mind. 

His eyes almost admired the way that his blood, slick in nature by the saliva that was coating the redness itself, dribbled off his chin and onto the ground below, creating a mixture of concrete from the only hit that Echo managed to get onto his face on the way down from the toppling horse, not even noticeable in the moment to the Ape as adrenaline tore away at his pain receptors. Where Noa landed was hard and cold as the night that encased the trees of the landscape and instinctually, he was quick to get himself up before but faltered and collapsed again. Dirt ran into his mouth and stuck grossly to his tongue, trying to swallow it down was pained in itself. 

There was something lodged in his shoulder blade, near the tendon itself that felt like it was ricocheting to the left and right at a quickened pace, breathing with the air that he was taking into his lungs and Noa convinced himself to slow that down before the very muscles of his shoulder came into the open air as it felt that they were going to snap themselves apart and counteract upwards. Specifically the right shoulder as inflicted, rendering it mildly useless in the scape of things. What was an Ape without their most valuable weapons, fists? 

Noa hadn’t seen what hit him, and when he looked towards the spot on his shoulder inflicted with panic setting into his chest, causing his breathing to pick up as he shouted out, there was nothing there other than the seeping of his blood, mixing into the already darkened nature of his fur, trickling down through the finer parts closer to his skin, down his bicep and soon to encase his outer forearm. His arm shattered as he attempted to put in weight on it, yelping in defenselessness as he crashed onto the ground once again.

The Echo… in front of him. Noa bared his teeth against the ground. He had a weapon. Something Echo. Something… His green eyes forced themselves to drag upwards, only catching the gleam of something metallic and black in the Echo’s hand before it was put back into the side pouch against his skinny hip. 

There was no way that he’d miss an arrow or even a spear. Too big, the momentum would have been torn to shreds by the vision that was granted to him in the sake of defense. Noa cried out, yelling at himself to get up as more of his blood seeped onto the ground below his usually broad body, torn into itself in this moment as a thrust of agony ran through his entire right side, all the way down to the elongated nature of his spaced out toes.

The disgusting smell of his own blood hit his senses, cascading around the back of his mind in a relentless call to pick himself up and to continue fighting. He--- Noa cried, pressing his forehead into the dirt and giving himself a ceremonious kiss to the Earth in a bid for her to help him stand. He couldn’t…

Teeth gritted together, the sound dulling out the screams of the Eagle Clan as another flame tore through their trenches. He closed his eyes for only a moment before reopening them to find Anaya. Anaya… Noa wanted to whimper and get himself up enough to crawl over to his friend, unconscious having taken a blunt hit to the side of his head from the female as she was now rising to her feet, wiping her mouth of blood and looked at Noa directly, admiring the wound on his shoulder that glimmered wetness.

Noa wanted to grasp him, to pull him closer and to tell him that he was sorry, that this was all of his fault… The demise of their clan, years of generations, years of culture and traditions, were now soaring free in the sky as their Eagles took off from the Enclosure in search of sanctuary elsewhere. Some followed their owners, others cried in desperation as their owners were unable to be detected in the absolute frenzy. Green irises finally rested against fire as it brought its flames upon the perch of the Eagle Enclosure. The wood, sap and rudimentary but sophisticated building was engulfed without remorse, a strangled cry raked his entire body. No… No… Noa tried to move forward, slumping his body in an unnatural contort as his feet pushed his upper half against the dirt, now mixing with the soot and ash of devastation. Not again. NOT AGAIN! His forehead pressed against the ground as he began shaking, his muscles falling in on themselves and without warning, Noa’s back was crushed downwards, stopping all his movements by the male he had begun this fight with. 

All breath left Noa’s chest as he felt the back of his ribcage explode with misery as it was pressed beyond its abilities. There was a sharp snap as he took another breath in, the entire weight of the Echo being placed, a boot imprint leaving itself on the back of his fur as the male finally relented and sought to crouch down next to Noa. 

“Can’t even fight like a damn Ape,” He spat, reaching around Noa’s forearm, upwards to his bicep and tore the band that laid there right off, hopeful that maybe there’d be some fur that was with it as a trophy. Another one destroyed, another step in the right direction. Noa wheezed, unable to breath but managed himself to look towards the man who began playfully sipping Noa’s arm band on his pointer finger while the other raised up and wiped under his nose, taking in the adornment of red against his flesh.

“You got a few good hits, gotta give it to you.” Rations of liquid seeped into Noa’s lung the moment he was kicked onto his side, the pressure of the movement rounding his entire being into a state of pure shock. “Watch your little town, Ape. Watch it burn to the ground and know that we’re gonna take back this godforsaken planet by any means necessary. And your little pet? She’s still alive somewhere in the woods. I think I’ll find ‘er.” Noa’s eyes widened as tears began physically falling from his eyes. Rare for a Chimp, but not impossible. You--- No…

He grunted to say something but nothing but a gurgle took hold in his throat as he spat out a bit of blood. 

“Make sure she knows I destroyed everything she fought to hide from me, her poor little cries. Wouldn’t tell me where you were, she’s quite a fighter.” A smirk. 

Eyes twitched in a desperate plea to fight more but Noa was unable to tangle himself into any sort of stance other than the sweeping of his gaze against the village, Soona looking at him from across the field, before tearing her sight on Anaya who was still unconscious. She was panicked, it was evident and she didn't know which to go after. Anaya, or Noa.

Growling, she handed a baby Bonobo to Dar as they were still evacuating into the woods and chose Anaya. Drag him away, get him to safety and return to help Noa. Her feet were fastened, she needed to be quicker than the breeze that ran through the desolate Eagles in the sky before Noa was killed. Noa understood - He’d have done the same thing, he thought pensively and let his eyes shut. 

“I really tortured her to get her to just tell us where your lil’ monkey clan was, should have heard her scream.” Swiping his teeth with his tongue, he held his hand out as the other male came forward and handed him that same metallic and black weapon. Noa’s eyes widened in recognition. He had no name for it now, he couldn’t recall in the moment if Mae ever told him what it was, if he was ever told what it was by anyone in the village. The stocky and short shaft of the item pressed against Noa’s head, cold.

He’d seen what it did to one of Proximus’ followers. Whatever projectile this flung out was stuck in his shoulder. Whatever was inside was going to throw Noa into the darkness where he was going to remain.

“Such a waste of screams, honestly. If she had just told us where you were, she’d probably be more alive than she is now, my friends here really did a number on her when she tried to get onto her horse to warn you.”

Squeezing his eyes shut now, Noa heard Eagle Sun's distinctive cry coming from above. He was ready. You were out there, teetering on the line and would succumb, Echo’s were a lot more fragile and the hits he knew, without proper care immediately, were going to cause extensive damage and you’d give up despite being stubborn beyond belief. With his actions, the whole of the Eagle Clan would be lost. With his last breath, just a whisper to the Eagles above and to the Apes in the surrounding forest. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to protect you. 

Noa reached out a hand and let his eyelids flutter open for a moment and he felt your grazing fingertips against his palm. He reacted as such, bringing his fingers in slowly to hold onto you. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to protect you. 

Thunder. Multiple splits like the sky were opening up for his departure from the Earth.

Noa drew a deep breath in and expected to open them to nothing but a wilderness of white as he was torn away from his conscious body into oblivion. Something, something… Slowly, eyes opened to peek at what was beyond death. Was he going to see his Father? Koro? 

He sobbed lightly at that, flooding his vision with tears. He wanted to… He wanted to apologize to him for all of this, for being so weak and for… Not being the Son that the Master of Birds deserved. Noa wanted the embrace of his Father’s hands against his face as they were brought together to kiss foreheads and he wanted him to know that he fought with all he had, how was he meant to be predestined to win against the ardent use of unfair warfare used by Echo’s who saw them as nothing but threats?

Noa sobbed again, this time harder when there was weight suddenly thrusted on top of him, harder than he needed and crushed his ribs even further into his body. 

Noa swore to the heavens now that… He’d heard your voice. Soothing and calling for him. You were there! In the deep midnight and you were telling him to come join. That you’d forgive him if he just opened his eyes and looked at you. The weight was taken off of him, the last adornment before the sweet kiss of death, an Eagle perched atop him, came in with intent to take him under their wing. Yes… He wanted nothing more than your hands against him, his back falling flat onto the ground as he peered into the night sky, the stars drawing him in through the rush of moisture in his eyes that obscured the finer details. Take me. My Echo… My… Beautiful screaming Echo.

“Noa, you ne-need to look at me.” Ah, your voice again and he found himself tilting his head into the caress that your hands suddenly had on his head, blood drawing his line of vision for a moment as you smeared it against his cheeks, a bid to get him to keep his head straight instead of lulling to the side in defeat. 

 “NOA!” Digging your knees into the ground, you tried to ignore the sensation of absolute ripping coming from your calves that you had managed to tie into a tourniquet to get the bleeding to subside with the dull leather of the belt you had. Grime was dug deeply into your fingernails, a silent prayer to the landscape that you just transferred your body against, at least fifty meters of terrain, hard and unforgiving under your weight. A want to defend what was yours to the bitter end. If you fell on the way there as death knocked on you, then fine, so be it, as long as you made an effort to try.

You had woken up alone after hearing the vaguest of ‘sorry’ from Soona as your head was delicately placed against the ground. Not that you could blame her once realization and horror dawned on you at the sight of a dim fire consuming the woods near you, you’d have done the same thing. Gone to protect your own people instead of a lifeless Echo who meant nothing. 

Your hands had torn the male you had shot away from Noa, watching as the bodies of the other Humans lay bare in rapid succession as you impressed yourself with your remarkable aim with swollen eyes, only able to get yourself planted on the ground long enough to actually pull the trigger of the gun that was thrown against the ground as soon as the bullets were spent.

Had they been paying attention, you beamed at yourself for just a moment as you collapsed back down and made your way towards Noa, using your forearms to scoot yourself as your legs were ultimately rendered useless now after trying to stand on such a sustained injury, you had taken one of their primal weapons and tucked it into the waistband of your pants when they had attacked you before.

Stupid Echo, you joked and let a chortled cry radiate through you as you tried to garner Noa’s eyes into your own, your hands caressing the sides of his face, sweeping over the indentation of the bullet into his shoulder.  It was like he was in your own head saying it now as you cried, your tears falling onto his face into a mixture of salt and iron. 

Stupid Echo always leave most vulnerable spots open. 

How you hated that he was right… Fingertips trailed against the fine wrinkles around his nose that were less prominent than they usually were as he was not holding himself conscious. “Noa, you need to wake up, I can-can’t carry you on my own, I don-don’t know where Soona went or where Anaya is, I can---” You tapered as a cry hit your throat at the idea that you were too late and that he was going to be unable to come to, unable to help you. 

Glancing down at your mangled calves, you came to terms that you were going to need to use the torn apart muscles there to get him dragged away from the fires that were rapidly consuming around you. Please, please… You told your legs, please just give me enough to do this and you can take me to death's door step after… Please… 

“I need to save him…” You verbalized, words thrown in on themselves with agnostic punches of air as you were unable to find it in yourself to calm the rapid rise and fall of your shoulders. 

Noa reached up, grasping your forearm for only a second before it dropped onto his chest. You scrambled, gasping as he finally coughed under you, his eyes trying to bring themselves into focus, you dug your hands into the fur lining his face and brought your forehead in towards his own, kissing only for a second in a flurry. He was alive, you brought your eyes to squeeze shut and force the tears away as they were now mixing disgustingly with the mud on your face. “Noa, you need to get up.” That was said against his lips, your face so near in proximity that you appeared cross-eyed. “Echo.” “I know, they---” You brought your face down and pressed it into his chest above where his arm now rested, only pulling back once he winced at the sensation of you being so close to him. I-- Couldn… Couldn’t… Stop them… They…”

Noa’s eyes finally fluttered fully open as he coughed aggressively, blood slipping out of the corner of his mouth that you wiped away without hesitation to cup the side of his face once you pulled yourself from his chest, tucking an arm under his neck to keep him leveraged so he wouldn’t drown on himself. “This… all my fault, the Clan… Yo.. You’re so hurt… I tried they…” 

“(Name).” The sound of your name from him rocketed your senses back to reality instead of pitiful groveling like you had been. His eyes were no longer open.

“Yes, it’s me…” You whispered, your fingers drawing themselves against the wrinkles of his face once again as you braced him against you, slickness smearing itself onto your clothing without reserve and in some sick twisted way, with his blood now seeping into your skin, this was the closest you had ever been to him. You always wanted to touch them, touch his face, but not like this.

Early morning after he took you for the first time would have been the preference, your hands lightly tracing what you had wanted to seek for so long… Something in you hoped that your touch alone was going to revive him but you knew that to be wishful thinking but it persisted when you dragged your fingers down towards his mouth and traced the lines of his lips. Say my name for me, say anything for me…

You tried to hold his head just a bit more, “Noa you need to get up, we need to get out of here before the fire comes. I--- I won’t leave you here again, but you need to help me.” A promise was made in that moment as he willed himself to try, his shoulders moving rather loosely as you tangled yourself into him, prepared to take the full force of his weight against your shins. 

“Soona---” “I th-think she’s-helping the Clan---” Noa let out a thunderous roar this time, regretting it immediately once it left his body as he slumped back once again and you were forced to catch him before he racketed onto the ground again. “SOONA!”

It felt like moments later, she was there; Soona’s eyes frantic as she looked at you, amazement clearly there that you were not dead where she had left you. Only a moment of an apologetic glance as you whispered to her, “I-I can’t lift him on my own, he’s--- I need to get him away from here to get the bullet out of his shoulder otherwise he’s going to die.” 

You were remarked on your ability to speak so clearly, chalking it up to the fact that you were face to face with death anyway and the adrenaline was causing the muscles of your jugular to pound crazily, your heart running itself away from the idea that he could die from the wounds inflicted on him. “Please.” You needn’t bother with formalities, Soona wanted to tell you as she dropped herself next to you, fixating on your legs and their physical state. “I know you can’t carry both of us. Get him out of here, don’t worry about me anymore. I-I’ll get myself out of here, I’m quite a crawler.”  It was a joke meant to lighten the mood as you felt the heat of flames against your back, “Crawled all the way over here by myself.” To say goodbye.

Letting your hand rest on Noa’s head, you petted the fur backwards and admired the scar that Eagle Sun had left him. The Ape accepted the affection unabashedly and tilted into it, your eyes staring down at him for only a moment thinking of what could have been if the circumstances were different. Both could have been happy… The pleasure of knowing what Noa felt like against you, not in a moment of death, but in a moment of ecstasy, your mouth drifting over his own as you told him how much you… You loved him.

Stumbling over yourself, you choked on your own self-pity thinking about the first time you had admitted that you loved him, the first time the idea sprung in the back of your head. Just another day where something lit inside of you, Noa giving you only one glance that lasted longer than any of the others, lips piling themselves into a small smile just for you…

“Will send someone to come get you.” Soona’s voice was rushed with reassurance as she moved to get Noa, taking him from your grasp and leaving you only with the imprint of his body left against your shirt, pants and hands. “Promised To Noa… keep His Echo… safe.” There was a twinge in your heart at that as your fingers left him as she rose to stand. Your hands dangled in the air for a moment before you dropped them slowly. “Thank you….” Voice barely a touch above a whisper, you smiled slightly at her which she returned with a softened gaze before it hardened in focus to hike Noa up with her. 

You hoped Soona was right that someone would come get you, your legs were numb and you were tired from pulling yourself to see him. So tired… Your eyelids felt so heavy, the blurring of the fire behind you deeply entrancing just to roll into. So… tired… The same feeling rushed into your chest like when you were first found by Noa, Soona and Anaya. Acceptance… No more bargaining, as you were ready to see your friends again, ready to meet Koro and tell him how amazing his Son truly was.  

You smiled to yourself with a huff, feeling the cut on your lip split open with one more lingering thought. He was going to be a great Leader, and he was going to rebuild and prosper, with or without you. Who needed a pesky little Echo?

Falling onto your knees as best you could, you tried to scramble yourself to stand but to no avail and drooled onto the ground as you came to rest on your stomach, face down in the dirt as Noa had been when you arrived.  It was a choice you were making, knowing that Soona was only able to carry one of you safely without risking the other to more injuries or even death and Noa was falling into a state of unconsciousness.

Your bit about getting the bullet out earlier was only telling Soona what she needed to do once he was safe, nothing more. Your fingers would no longer touch him. She wanted to speak on it, but you had accepted that this was the way things were meant to be as flames hit your cheeks from a few meters away. She needed to help Noa, their leader, and not what Noa’s interests were.

Death, you thought, always brought new beginnings and you hoped that to be true with all your might as you watched Soona carry Noa once your head tilted in that direction, the last action you felt you were able to bring yourself to do. Need… To look at him, see him one more time… You told the reaper above you, just give me that, please… His feet staggering against the ground, hard and rough as Soona herself struggled to keep him situated against her own body. You’d have always died for him, you felt like it was destined.

One way or another, somewhere in the multitude of the universe, you being nothing more than a speck to anyone else, were an entire world for an Ape. A Chimpanzee. Your heart, you wished you'd protected it a bit more but still... At the end of the day that was more than okay to perish in flame for.

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・●・○・

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[crybaby-bkg]

new dad Bakugou who’s going back to work full time almost a full year after his daughter his born and he now has to grapple with the fact that….goddamn, he’s spoiled the shit outta her.

well, he doesn’t think it was spoiling her. in actuality, he just created a routine with her, gave her every bit of his attention, held her when she cried, scolded her (yes just at eight months) whenever she’d babble for more puffs even though she’s had enough already. it wasn’t spoiling, it wasn’t. he vowed to never be that dad, to raise a snot nosed brat, one similar to himself.

but here he is, on a Tuesday morning three weeks after her first birthday. he’s standing halfway between the front door and the living room in full uniform, with his still sleepy baby and her even sleepier mama. she’s gripping his neck like he promised to abandon her, wailing and crying so loud and dramatically, that you can’t help but chuckle at her antics and how he wavers ever so slightly.

“You promised you’d go back to work,” you scold him gently, rubbing at your daughters quivering back when she whines again the moment he acts like he’s gonna pull her off. Bakugou frowns at you, and you shrug, smoothing her unruly blond curls away from her sticky forehead.

“But you guys need me.” He pouts, eyebrows downturned as he pulls her away enough to wipe at her wet face. she blubbers again, whimpering out a small dadaaaa noooo, that absolutely breaks his heart.

“And so does the world.” You smile at him, gently pulling your daughter away from the matching glassy red eyes who watch her go. “We’ll be fine, my love. Promise.”

Bakugou looks unconvinced, especially since your daughter reaches for him with another cry of his name. you don’t say anything when he sniffles discreetly, quickly reaching down to the coffee table to snatch up his utility belt that he dropped when she waddled out of her room in tears. he snaps it on wordlessly, and you go to turn to the kitchen when he wraps you both up in his arms.

“Love you,” he whispers against your forehead before pecking it, leaning down to kiss your lips next, and then your daughter’s fat little cheeks. He whispers another love you to her, and wipes away at her rosy cheeks when she pouts at him.

“Rub you.” your daughter pouts, the both of you freezing in shock.

“Oh my god,” you whisper, grinning. “She said I love you back!” Bakugou matches your grin, laughing under his breath as he presses another torrent of kisses all of her face. for the first time since she’s opened her eyes today, she laughs, loud and joyous and familiar. he thinks that maybe going back in today won’t be so bad after all. not if this is what he’ll be coming home to.

[hd-junglebook]

"Hey Sugar"

-said with rizz

Luke Hughes x F!Reader, Trevor Zegras x Reader (platonic)

Masterlist Link

a:n Now we're delving into some of the drama. I have so much planned for Luke, so I hope everyone's excited. I will be posting a little 'announcement' later today to see what work you want from me next.

Warnings: throuple jumpscare, flirting, maybe cursing, suggestive flirting, nausea/vomiting, arguing

Summary: Luke's brother Jack arrives with friends, and a misunderstanding about you and Luke being engaged unsettles you. You long for Luke to clarify the situation, but he doesn't. When Luke suggests slipping away together for a bit, you're torn between giving in to your desire for him or protecting your peace.

Word Count - 3774

Part 3

Two agonizing days had passed since the disastrous dinner, and the volatility raging through your system showed no signs of abating. If anything, the jarring mood swings and bouts of nausea seemed to intensify with each lurching hour.

One moment, you'd be curled in a tight, miserable ball on Luke's rumpled sheets - stomach cramping viciously as you fought back waves of queasiness. The next, an irrational spike of anger would crest within you, bitter resentments and grievances spilling forth in a blistering torrent aimed at anyone within blast radius.

Poor Luke had borne the brunt of your mercurial temper more than once over the past couple days. You still cringed inwardly at the snippets of venom that replayed through your mind...the unfair accusations and white-hot outbursts detonated at even his mildest gestures of concern.

Yet, despite the vitriolic lashings, the man remained a stalwart presence at your side - steadfast and seemingly undaunted in the face of your hormonal cyclone. As if determined to simply weather the tumult until it passed, Luke took each scorching barb with stoic poise before eventually gathering you into the protective circle of his powerful arms.

It was there, cocooned in his solid warmth with his soothing baritone rumbling through your quaking frame, that you found fleeting moments of reprieve from the flames. Until, inevitably, the fires would rage anew - sparking from some unknowable origin deep within you.

This morning appeared to be no exception as the first fingers of dawn spilled buttery light across Luke's titanium sheets. You squinted against the pale glow filtering through the parted blinds, feeling that telltale cramp already blossoming in your lower belly. A low moan slipped unbidden past your lips as you instinctively curled into a tighter ball, dreading the hell to come.

In the periphery of your vision, Luke's massive frame shifted almost imperceptibly - the steady rise and fall of his sculpted torso indicating he still clung to the final wisps of slumber. A rueful smile tugged at your lips as you watched the slight furrow materializing between his brows, no doubt registering your fitful stirrings on a subconscious level.

Sure enough, those ridiculously thick lashes began to flutter in the next breath.

You tensed in anticipation as Luke's searing browns slowly blinked into awareness, searching your side of the bed with instinctual concern. When his hooded gaze finally landed on your hunched form, his features contorted into an achingly tender look of understanding.

"Hey..." The graveled endearment was little more than a whisper as Luke shifted onto his side to fully face you. "Another rough one, huh?"

You could only nod tightly, jaw clenched against the impending cramp as you focused on his beloved face. Luke regarded you with those piercing brown pools for a weighty moment, seeming to assess if reassurances or remonstrations would be required for this particular flare-up. When your expression remained pinched with stoic endurance, he simply sighed and extended one arm in mute invitation.

The profound relief that blossomed in your chest was instantaneous and overwhelming. Without a second thought, you surged into the solid warmth of Luke's bare torso - shamelessly seeking the grounding familiarity of his scorching skin against yours.

He didn't hesitate to accommodate, muscles flexing fluidly as he secured you against the powerful cage of his chest. You sagged gratefully into the protective cradle of his unyielding frame, drawing solace from the reassuring lub-dub of Luke's heart reverberating against your cheek.

Potent arms like towers of steel encircled you, one corded forearm cushioning the tender dip of your waist while the other smoothed over the rigid line of your shoulders in broad sweeps.

As always, Luke lent his steadfast strength without reservation or expectation - merely offering the uncompromising bastion of his body to weather your internal squalls.

You focused on the smoldering brand of his touch, allowing the cadence of Luke's respiration and the exquisite familiarity of his clean, male musk to sweep you under like a balmy riptide.

There would be time later for confusion, for interrogation over these distressing symptoms plaguing both body and spirit. For now, surrendering to the sanctuary of this man's healing embrace was the only sensible form of self-preservation.

…

Two hours had passed, and you felt it was time to get up. You walked around the room, gathering your clothes scattered haphazardly across the floor. Luke's rich baritone reached you from the rumpled bed. "Where you goin', gorgeous?"

Pausing, you shot him a glance over one shoulder, taking in his tousled bedhead and sleep-swollen features. "I'm gonna go talk to Jess. I'm tired of rotting up here, you know?"

Luke regarded you steadily for a beat before giving a slight nod, seemingly accepting your need to rejoin the world beyond these four walls.

"Don't take too long to come down, okay?"

The gentle plea beneath your somber tone wasn't lost on him. It caused a small, reassuring curl to unfurl in your chest as you offered a tight smile.

"I won't."

Then you were shouldering out of the bedroom, pulling on clothes with clumsy motions as you made your way down the hall. The hushed cadence of voices soon reached your ears, and you followed the murmurs into the open living room area - freezing at the scene playing out before you.

In one corner, Jessica and Maggy were engaged in what looked to be a heated exchange - their body language taut and confrontational as they traded heated whispers. You watched with a growing frown as Maggy gestured emphatically, clearly trying to make a point.

"I don't know how you expect this to work out, Jess," she hissed, slicing one hand through the air. "We both like him. He's either gonna choose one of us with your stupid ultimatum, or we can both be happy!"

Jessica scoffed loudly at that, tossing her silk tresses as her eyes flashed with indignation. "Don't give me that 'we can all be happy' bullshit, Mags! Trevor deserves more than being passed back and forth."

As their heated words escalated, you realized with a jolt that the object of their dispute was conspicuously absent. Scanning the cavernous living area revealed no sign of Trevor anywhere in the fallout radius of their confrontation.

It wasn't until you turned again that you finally spotted him - a hunched, dejected figure tucked in the far corner beside the hearth. His hulking frame seemed to radiate naked defeat as Jessica and Maggy's scathing tirades washed over him.

The swell of pity and protectiveness that bloomed in your chest was visceral. How could any of you have let things deteriorate to this point? Trevor was the kindest, most tender-hearted soul you knew. He didn't deserve to be torn asunder by your dysfunctional dynamic.

You took an instinctive step towards him, intent on extracting him from this torture. But before you could cross the distance, Trevor lifted his gaze to yours - and the breath punched from your lungs in a soundless gasp.

Glittering tear tracks shone down both whiskered cheeks, those warm hazel eyes glimmering with a devastation so profound it pierced straight through to your soul. For the span of a haunting, eternal moment, you held that hollowed stare...letting its harrowing anguish sear into your very marrow.

Then, as quickly as the connection had materialized, it was severed. Trevor blinked and rose unsteadily, turning to make his silent escape out the back entrance as Jessica and Maggy's shouts reached a fever pitch around him.

You could only watch, stunned and horrifically impacted, as he slipped away - your mind reeling from the truth that revelation had shored into aching focus. This was the insidious danger of your tangled web, of prioritizing passion over genuinely healthy bonds...

…

Luke bounded down the stairs at the sound of arriving cars, his heavy footfalls reverberating with unbridled energy. You watched from the entryway as not one, not two, but three vehicles came to a rumbling stop outside the lake house, kicking up plumes of dust in their wake.

Your brows hiked skyward as you registered the unexpected numbers, though Luke didn't seem the least bit fazed. If anything, his features were split by a wolfish grin of anticipation as he reached the front door in a few powerful strides.

"That'll be my brother and the rest of those delinquents," he supplied by way of explanation, giving your shoulder an affectionate squeeze as he brushed past.

You could only nod mutely, trailing after him as Luke flung the door open with gusto. A chorus of raucous hoots and hollers immediately assailed you, accompanying the cacophony of car doors slamming and heavy footsteps crunching up the gravel drive.

At the head of the boisterous pack was a towering, broad-shouldered figure that could have been Luke's doppelganger were it not for the closely-shorn chestnut hair and thick mustache framing his full lips. This man - undoubtedly Luke's older brother - wore an equally shit-eating grin as he bounded up onto the porch, thick arms already outstretched.

"Bout damn time you got here, dipshit!" Luke crowed with unbridled affection, not even bothering to dodge the crushing embrace that sent them both rocking back on their heels.

The two titans of men crashed together with the force of linebackers, deep laughs rumbling through their powerful frames as they jockeyed for supremacy. You couldn't help but hover in the open doorway, temporarily dumbstruck by the sheer unvarnished joy radiating from their reunion.

"Hey, watch the shoulder, asshole!" the brother growled out between peals of laughter, giving Luke's trapezius a playful shove. "Just had that shit rehabbed!"

Luke simply cackled louder at that, ruffling the cropped bristles atop his sibling's head with unrestrained glee. "Don't be such a bitch, Jacky. Maybe if you toughened up, you wouldn't keep getting hurt."

The snide remark earned Luke a solid jab to the ribs, causing him to let out an undignified wheezing grunt. But the brilliant smile never faltered, only stretching wider as he hauled his brother into another fierce hug - this one softer, more lingering.

"Missed you, man," you heard Luke's deep bass rumble against the solid plane of Jack's shoulder.

The tender endearment, mumbled as it was, still managed to strafe your heart with a piercing ache of...something. You blinked rapidly, struggling to process the sudden upwelling of emotion clogging your throat as you watched them embrace.

What was happening? This was hardly the first time you'd witnessed a brotherly reunion between Luke and Jack. Hell, the two had been practically inseparable growing up, despite the five-year gap in their ages. You'd lost count of how many rowdy homecomings and holidays you'd shared in their boisterous presence over the years.

So why did this particular moment feel so viscerally charged? Why were your eyes prickling traitorously as you drank in the simple scene of contented intimacy? It made absolutely no sense, and yet you couldn't seem to halt the swell of sentiment cresting within your thundering chest.

Luke must have sensed your roiling inner turmoil because he suddenly disengaged from their clinch, turning to face you with a softened expression. Those searing brown eyes found yours over the solid mass of Jack's shoulder, glowing with naked tenderness that momentarily stole the very breath from your lungs.

"Y/N..." he rumbled, somehow managing to imbue your name with gratifying weight. "You know my knucklehead brother, Jack."

The gentle prompt snapped you from your fugue, forcing you to blink rapidly as you refocused on the newcomers scattered across the front yard. Jack had spun towards you now, those craggy features arranged into a rakish grin that could have been lifted straight from Luke's playbook.

"Well, well...if it ain't my future sister," he all but purred, sweeping you up into an enthusiastic bear hug before you could protest.

You instantly found yourself engulfed in sinewy muscle and subtle cedar musk - not entirely unpleasant save for the way it constricted your ribcage. Still, you managed an awkward sort of half-laugh, giving the man's broad back a few consoling pats.

"Nice to see you too, Jack. Take it easy there, I need these bones."

The teasing only earned you a full-bellied guffaw as Jack finally relented, carefully extricating you from his vice-like embrace. His eyes - a slightly paler, more aquamarine shade than Luke's midnight browns - crinkled with unrestrained warmth as he regarded you.

"She's a goddamn knockout and she can hang? No wonder you finally stopped fuckin' around and put a ring on it!"

The vulgar observation, accompanied by a roguish wink, instantly resurfaced the blooming mirth in your chest like a lead weight. Suddenly, the giddy elation of witnessing their reunion had evaporated - leaving only an unmistakable hollowness in its wake.

Luckily, the moment of visceral emptiness was fleeting. Luke quickly crowded in beside you, snaking one long arm around your waist in a infinitely more welcome embrace. His palm settled low on your hip, radiating delicious warmth even through the thin cotton barrier.

"Don't get too far ahead of yourself, Jackass," he admonished lightly, those smoldering browns finding yours once more with weighted intention. "There's still time for her to call the whole thing off if you keep running that mouth."

Jack simply scoffed at the empty threat, already turning back towards the cluster of cars where the rest of his companions were beginning to emerge. "Whatever you gotta tell yourself to sleep at night, baby bro!"

Though the flippant retort rankled you momentarily, you couldn't find it in yourself to properly bristle at Jack's outrageousness. Not when Luke was nuzzling his prickly jaw against the sensitive curve where your neck met shoulder, blissfully impervious to his brother's antics.

…

The raucous celebratory energy suffusing the lake house should have been infectious, intoxicating even. Jack and his misfit band of cohorts had effortlessly slotted into the group dynamic, their arrival sparking an instantaneous resurgence of riotous laughter and shamelessly off-color anecdotes.

Yet you remained closed off from it all, a mere bystander watching the raucous bonhomie unfurl at your periphery. No matter how many times Maggy looped an arm through yours with a conspiratorial wink, or Jessica pressed a fresh drink into your hand, you couldn't quite shake the leaden emptiness seizing your chest.

It was a persistent, gnawing ache - as if someone had nestled a lead brick between your ribs, slowly constricting your lungs until each inhalation was a monumental feat. You'd never felt so profoundly untethered from yourself, from the steadying anchors that typically kept you grounded.

Worst of all were the furtive glances you kept stealing towards Luke, desperately hoping to lose yourself in the contented glority of his smile...only to have Jack's parting quip ricochet through your skull like shrapnel.

Over and over, you replayed the crude insinuation in your mind's eye, feeling that spiderweb crack in your temporarily invulnerable facade each time. Why hadn't Luke corrected his brother's assumption about your relationship status? Sure, putting a defined label on the passion between you was unimportant in the grand scheme.

But the fact remained - you weren't Luke's fiancée, and the very notion that he'd allow someone to believe otherwise disquieted you in ways you couldn't fully articulate. It felt dishonest somehow, a falsehood woven into the rich tapestry of your lives that didn't belong.

So you lingered in the periphery, watching the party swirl around you in roiling eddies of boisterous camaraderie. Luke, ever the epicenter of the chaos, ricocheted between boisterous debate with Jack and sotto voce flirtations whenever you drifted within arm's reach.

Each time, you found yourself silently imploring him to bring up the innocuous comment, to casually clarify with that easy cadence of his that you were simply...complicated. That labels and conventions meant little in the face of your profound bond.

But the words never materialized, and you were left suspended in tangible torment - questioning everything and nothing all at once as the night raged on around you.

It was well after midnight when Maggy plopped down beside you on the sagging sofa, knocking your shoulder playfully as she sank into the buttery leather with a contented sigh. You barely registered her arrival, too consumed by the bitter chorus in your head.

"I'm sorry you had to see that earlier," she murmured after a contemplative pause, drawing your vacant stare instinctively. "We...Jessica, Trevor, and I...we decided it's best if we're just together. All three of us. It makes us happy, you know?"

The gentle confession, layered with audible reticence, had your brows hiking towards your hairline in a silent question. Maggy caught the wordless probe and flashed you a rueful half-smile, clearly interpreting your confusion.

"The arguing, the jealousy bullshit...it's just not worth it," she elaborated with a philosophical shrug of those curvaceous shoulders. "We're happiest when we're completely open and honest with each other - no holding back. Even if it means breaking some stupid societal norms along the way."

You felt your lips part, a thousand queries marshaling on your tongue as you processed Maggy's candid revelation. But in the end, the only response to materialize was a low, ragged exhalation - somewhere between a snort and a rueful chuckle.

Because in that endless night, with an internal war raging inside your shattered breast...you'd never felt more adrift and utterly rudderless than in the presence of their blazing certainty.

There was a tangible rightness to the path these beautiful souls had carved for themselves - a fearless adherence to the truth that burned within, regardless of proverbial norms or expectations. A level of uncompromising vulnerability that you could scarcely fathom in your current state.

It was transcendent and horribly enviable all at once...and it scorched you from the inside out.

"I...wow," you eventually managed in a papery tone, giving Maggy's slender fingers a reflexive squeeze. "That's...amazing, Mags. I'm really happy for you guys, and proud of the courage it took to get there."

Maggy's incandescent smile could have powered a small city as she angled herself towards you fully. "Thanks, babe. That means everything coming from you."

She bumped your shoulder playfully, as if to ease some of the heaviness between you. But nothing could alleviate the maddening ache spiderwebbing through your marrow - that hollowness that threatened to devour you from within.

From across the room, you watched Luke throw back his head in a rich peal of laughter at something Jack had said, jaw clenched and eyes crinkled in genuine merriment. Something fragile in your chest simultaneously blossomed with tenderness...and withered into stark disrepair.

…

A tranquil hush had descended over the lake house, the typical raucous energy giving way to contented quietude as the night crept deeper. Outside, the inky blackness was softened by a shimmering blanket of stars reflecting off the glassy waters, casting everything in an ethereal glow.

You shifted drowsily on the plush leather sofa, savoring the remaining tendrils of warmth radiating from Luke's solid frame where he was nestled against your side. His arm was looped securely around your waist, palm splaying possessively over the slight curve of your hip.

For a few languorous moments, your mind pleasantly drifted - lulled by the steady cadence of Luke's breathing and the occasional chorus of night birds trilling outside. He always ran several degrees warmer than you, his potent furnace of a body suffusing you with delicious heat.

You had nearly succumbed to a light doze when the low rumble of Luke's voice reverberated against the back of your neck, sending a shiver rippling down your spine.

"I planned a really special night for us, y/n." His midnight timbre was velveteen and hushed, thrumming with an undercurrent of anticipation.

You stirred groggily, twisting in the haven of his embrace until you could regard him properly. Luke's striking features were gilded in the pale moonglow filtering through the windows, casting his chiseled jawline and proud nose in stark relief. But it was his eyes - those blazing, all-consuming pools - that arrested your full attention.

They fairly smoldered with unnamed intensity, holding your drowsy stare hostage as one corner of those obscenely full lips quirked upwards.

"For what?" The words were slightly graveled from impending slumber as you blinked owlishly.

Luke's smile deepened into something richer and infinitely more weighted as he began tracing lazy, spiraling patterns along the soft skin of your thigh.

Each meandering caress of his calloused fingertips seemed to sear straight through the thin barrier of cotton separating you, raising delicious gooseflesh in their wake.

"I just want to do something for you," he rumbled in that sinful rasp, holding your molten stare unblinkingly. "It's...a surprise."

You felt your breath stall in your lungs at the heated promise that single word seemed to ignite. A surprise from Luke invariably meant some grand romantic gesture - extravagant and shamelessly indulgent in a way that never failed to overwhelm you.

Luke must have registered the momentary paralysis in your features because he leaned in fractionally closer, close enough for you to drink in the rich amber and cedar notes of his cologne. His palm drifted higher, finally coming to rest low on your abdomen as those blazing browns searched your face with undisguised intensity.

"This one won't be like the others, y/n," he murmured, the graveled lilt seeming to caress every syllable of your name. "This is going to be really...really special. For you. For us."

The naked sincerity, the profoundity behind those quietly uttered words...it stole the very air from your lungs in a sharp exhalation of pure wonderment.

Every nerve ending in your body seemed to blaze into awakeness, zeroing in on the scorching brand of Luke's touch as it meandered across your tingling skin.

You could only gape at him mutely through the rushof feeling, overwhelmed by the searing tenderness flowing between you in dizzying riptides.

Luke was many things in these moments - playful, irreverent, smoldering with the promise of white-hot passion. But above all else, he was steadfast - grounding you in the unshakable truth of just how treasured you were to him.

"Where?" you eventually rasped out once you'd recovered enough to form words. Moisture stung at the corners of your eyes as you held his blazing stare, everything inside of you seeming to crystallize into this single suspended heartbeat.

An achingly gentle smile curved those beloved lips as Luke reached up to tuck an errant strand of hair behind your ear, callused knuckles grazing your fevered cheek in a scorching caress.

"I want to take you somewhere we can be alone for a little while. Just you and me under the stars. After we get home to Jersey, a night for just us, Y/N."

…

[elfieafterdark]

I was talking to @goodmorningnona about TLT and I shared a little thought I've come up with. Time to share it with all of you.

So, we know John has a whole bunch of soul juice inside him, that's what makes him so damn strong. We know that he can't die conventionally, even the resurrection beasts aren't a danger to him.

But Alecto might just be able to, it's heavily implied that she can. Also know that she's linked to John via the complete version of the lyctorial process. Since he and Alecto are both alive but also ascended, I think it's reasonable to speculate that she shares the 10 billion souls John consumed. John and Alecto are jointly God, and Alecto can kill him.

So here me out, I think Harrow is a mini-baby god. Born of 200 souls smashed together in a torrent of death and magic. She's a young god, maybe a fledgling one I'm not sure.

But I think, baby god or not, she can kill John just the same as Alecto can. I think that John lies to her constantly in order to keep her pliable and loyal. He wants her on his side because of this, because she's like him.

It would explain why Gideon the first tries to kill her constantly. Because she's an actual, legitimate threat to John.

That's the theory, Harrow is a baby god and she's one of two people capable of killing John Gaius. Gideon the First attacks Harrow for this, and John lies and manipulates her to keep her on his side.