#*Childe’s is debatable if you squint a bit in that he could also be read as a deep sea creature of some kind rather than a moth

[saintajax]

plagued thinking about the insect theming we’ve had for every fatui boss fight so far* and the greater implications thats holds for possible dottore or tsaritsa fight......

[uravitsy]

‘YOUNG AND BEAUTIFUL’ SATORU GOJO

ACT ONE.

summary. gojo visits your grave once a year, reflecting on the limited time he had with you while going through the stages of grief. ☆

warnings. angst, sad!gojo, fem!reader! gojo x you, grief, established relationship, some smut if you squint, bittersweet ending

a/n. this is a short story i wrote over the summer, i wanted to dabble into the idea of gojo not being able to fully process his grief without the help of his students. it is a bit sad though.

ACT TWO : ̗̀➛ ACT THREE : ̗̀➛ FINALE

𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪

"Does Gojo-sensei seem…different today?" Itadori asked absentmindedly, leaning back in his chair while balancing a pencil on his nose. He was doing everything else but the work he was supposed to finish before class ended. His two close friends, Megumi and Nobara, spared him a quick glance, as if debating whether to answer his ridiculous question.

"When is that nutjob ever okay?" Nobara bounced back another question, making Itadori stop balancing himself on his chair to think for once. The pencil he had on his face clattered onto the ground. "If anything, he's more extra than he was yesterday."

"Exactly," Itadori frowned, the invisible lightbulb above his head continuing to flicker as he thought long and hard about what Gojo could be upset about. He knew it was a stretch, and he himself wasn't too good at reading emotions, but he was sure something was off—from the way Gojo's smile seemed wider to the way his laughs went on for a second too long. "What do you think, Megumi?"

The black-haired boy stopped moving his pencil across the paper. His face remained stoic as the two beside him turned to look in his direction, anticipating an answer from him.

In short, Megumi did know why Gojo seemed off today, and it was all because of his vague memory of you.

He was a clueless child back then, but he felt it. He felt the love you and Gojo shared, something he had seen before between his own mother and father. It was strong, beautiful, like a song that only you and Gojo knew the lyrics to. It was a dance—a slow burn into the spotlight of a world you two created.

He admired it. He admired you and the person you helped Gojo become.

And though your memory was beautiful, it was also tragic. Megumi did mourn you since he remembered bits and pieces of you, but he was sure Gojo mourned you the most. Especially since today was the anniversary of your death. For as long as he's known Gojo, he knew that this one day out of the year was the time when he'd crack more jokes, tease him more, and laugh the loudest—all to mask his pain.

And he couldn't help but think it's because Gojo never properly grieved for you.

"He's the same as usual," Megumi lied. It wasn't their place to know, nor was it his. Everyone had their secrets and the stuff they keep to themselves. Who were they to pry into his business? "You guys should just drop it."

And with that, he went back to his assignment, ignoring the gawking stares from both of his friends.

"Well, now I'm even more curious," Itadori pouted, resting his chin on his hand as he looked out the window just in time to see Gojo's back as he skipped off campus. "He's literally leaving in the middle of the day!"

"Itadori—" Megumi started but got interrupted by his friends' loud voices.

"What?!" Nobara pushed Itadori away from the window so she could look. A sudden spark of curiosity consumed her as she cracked a mischievous grin. "You thinking what I'm thinking?"

"We should follow him!" they both said at the same time as they rushed out of the classroom with such speed they left papers flying behind them.

Megumi could only sigh. His peers were likely to get in trouble and drag him into their mess somehow. It never fails. He thought for a moment about how he would benefit from following them to make sure they didn't get caught leaving school grounds without a teacher, but he came up with nothing. He figured he should take his own advice and mind his own business, let those two knuckleheads do whatever they want and suffer the consequences for it.

They could potentially run into dangerous curses, dangerous people, or dangerous people controlling dangerous curses… and then suffer grave injuries. You know what? Maybe he should follow them from a distance.

Meanwhile, the door to the flower shop gave a soft ding as Gojo opened it. His tall frame took up the space in the small shop. Gojo ducked his head as he came in, careful not to knock over the potted plants that rested on the floor and shelves in no particular order. The air was stale with an earthy smell that was oddly comforting. It was good to know that the place remained the same after a year—the only thing that stayed the same in his chaotic life.

"Satoru!" an elderly woman looked up from her newspaper at the sound of the doorbell, thick circle glasses making her eyes appear large and almost fish-like. "Good to see you! How have you been?"

"Mrs. Yamada," Gojo bowed respectfully to the elder, to which the lady playfully pinched and pulled his cheeks. "Missed you too!"

"You silly boy, you know you can visit anytime and not just once a year, you know (Y/N) would've loved that, hm?" Mrs. Yamada made her way behind the counter, already grabbing and wrapping up a single flower. A flower that was your favorite, the same kind you'd always get whenever you would come into this small flower shop.

Gojo never understood why you didn't let him buy a whole bouquet of the flowers you loved. "Then I'd have to take care of all of them," you'd say, your laugh like a sweet melody in his ears that he constantly wanted to replay. "When it's just one, I feel like it lasts longer, you know? I seem to appreciate it more."

The memory made him frown slightly. If you allowed it, he would've bought the whole damn store for you, and you wouldn't just be stuck with a single flower. He didn't get it. He didn't get you. Even after all these years, he was still trying to figure you out.

"Ah, she used to come in every Sunday morning to say hello," Mrs. Yamada smiled warmly. "Always ready to hound me for something sweet to eat. (Y/N) had a nose like a hound and a stomach like a sumo wrestler." The brown wrapping paper crinkled against the elder's fingertips as she folded it around the flower. "Oh, how I miss her."

"Come now, Mrs. Yamada," Gojo leaned against the counter, tapping the wood with excitement. "She'd want us to smile, to celebrate her life, right?! Then that's exactly what we'll do."

"Satoru…"

Gojo waved his hands dismissively. "The usual price for the flowers, right?"

"Yes," Mrs. Yamada rang him up at the cash register before sliding the flower across the counter toward him. But before Gojo could grab it, she pulled it away. "I wanted to tell you before I closed up shop for the day, but… I will be retiring next month."

Gojo's smile fell then.

"I am getting too old, and ever since my husband's passing, I find it quite hard to manage this all on my own, no matter how much I love to do so," she patted the counter lightly, eyes glazed over in a daze as if recalling a memory. "I will be closing the shop and moving to America to stay with my daughter."

"Then are you going to sell the building?"

Gojo found himself asking before he could even think about what to say.

"I'll buy it."

Even in death, you were expensive. How was that possible? Gojo found himself using his savings to buy a whole flower shop that you weren't even here to see. But did that matter to him? Of course not. You were worth every penny—and the shop, to him, was nothing more than a shiny penny that he could buy for your sake. All because you loved it and would visit it often. Gojo couldn't let it close down; it was too valuable for the sake of the memories it held.

So now he owned a flower shop. What the hell was he going to do with a flower shop? He didn't know a damn thing about flowers.

"(Y/N)…" Gojo whispered your name as he pushed open the metal graveyard gate, the bolt making a loud creaking noise that echoed into the summer breeze.

It didn't take Gojo long to find your headstone. After all these years, he knew this cemetery like the back of his hand; at this point, it was like a second home to him. The only place where he could truly let the mask fall as he mourned for you.

In the years you've been gone, he had a long time to think—to wonder why you of all people had to be taken away from him. It made him question, curse, and cry to a higher power above if there was one. Would they be listening? Did they hear him? Did they understand the pain he was put through? And if everything was a part of the higher power's plan, then why was (Y/N) written in with such a tragic story? Why did her life become a song of such somber music?

It wasn't fair. And to Gojo, he would never make sense of it, no matter how hard he tried.

"Ah, it's a beautiful day, (Y/N)." Gojo smiled warmly at your headstone before sitting on the smooth tile, rummaging through his bag to pull out a rag so he could wipe the dust that was on top of your engraved name. "Though I bet you're complaining about how hot it is. I know, it is a little toasty, but a beautiful day nonetheless."

Wiping the concrete clean, Gojo made sure it was spotless with all the cleaning supplies he brought. He had to make up for the year he was away; that's why he always deep-cleaned your headstone since he knew he wouldn't be back until next year. He wanted you to watch the seasons go by with a pretty headstone, one that sparkled whenever the sun cast its rays on it.

"Hm?" Gojo tilted his head as if to hear your unspoken question again. "Oh! I'm doing good. Still teaching. You'd love these lot of kids, though. They have such great potential and are such a reckless bunch who enjoy escaping off campus to follow me here."

"Crap! He's onto us." Gojo heard Nobara's voice from the bushes behind him.

"Do you think he knows?" Itadori asked in his typically clueless fashion.

"He knows, dumbass." Megumi sighed before emerging from the bushes with twiddledee and twiddledumb trailing behind him. Their bantering stopped once they saw Gojo sitting by your headstone, the air suddenly becoming still as they made their way closer.

"Gojo-sensei, we can explain—!"

"Don't even," the white-haired man laughed before gesturing toward the headstone. "(Y/N), meet my students. Students, meet (Y/N)!"

"Ah! Nice to meet you!" Itadori bowed in respect, and so did Megumi.

"Why are we bowing to a dead—" Grabbing ahold of Nobara's hand, Itadori forcibly pulled her down so she could bow as well.

"Oh, you kids are in so much trouble," Gojo said with a gleeful smile. "I'm already thinking of all the ways to punish you."

"In my defense," Megumi started, "I tried to stop them."

"Yetttttt you're still here." Tilting his head, Gojo looked at his students playfully. "I hope you all enjoyed this field trip, but let's head back to campus, yeah? And get ice cream along the way!"

"Oh! Ice cream!" Itadori and Nobara spun around in a dance as they made their way toward the entrance of the cemetery, the pair just finding it best not to question who you were or what you were to Gojo. They could finally sense what Itadori was talking about that morning. He was different today, and it was clear he was sad. "La la la la la!"

"Let's go, Megumi. Do you still prefer chocolate?" Gojo turned to walk away but stopped in his tracks when he noticed Megumi staring at your grave with an expression he couldn't read. "Megumi?"

"Gojo-sensei…" His student turned to look at him. "I just want you to know that it's okay to be sad, to grieve for her."

Gojo chuckled, tucking his hand in his pocket as a breeze cut through the air, its chilled warmth wrapping around the pair. "Who's to say I don't? I grieve her every day."

URAVITSY 2024

[kagu-une]

Your Majesty // P.SH

The cessation of war in your kingdom relies on you. What everyone failed to tell you: it is at the cost of your freedom.

pairing. king!park seonghwa x fem!princess!reader

genre. royal fantasy? pls don't read this if you're looking for historical accuracy :/ mature themes ahead, minors do not interact.

content warnings. non-idol!au. mean dom!seonghwa. sub!reader. maybe a little bit of dubcon if you squint. oral (m. receiving). no penetration. shoe humping. degradation. use of the terms 'my pet', 'good girl', 'my property', mentions of being a slave, 'your majesty', uhhh? spitting, very briefly. sadism for sure. he's a mean ass so ? i think that's about it. use of restraints but not in the sexy way ;(. i wrote this in proper caps this time but usually i use intentional lowercase :p

a/n. can you imagine seonghwa as a cruel king it gets my jimmies in a twist .... sorry to keep pushing the mean hwa agenda..... this is an old drabble that i had sitting, so i hope you enjoy! also ty to my liege @hhoneylix for proof reading for me (so if anything is awry blame them fr /j) ♡ if you enjoyed, please like, comment and reblog!

smut beneath the drop down!

Park Seonghwa — a noble captain in battle, but a tyrant King. Stingy, was he, arms outstretched in demand for his filthy palms to be filled with what he desired. His gluttony was utterly insatiable, and notoriously so. Though his greed was enough to cause the purest of souls to turn a cold shoulder, it was difficult to say no to someone with devilishly handsome looks and equipped with a silver tongue that'd put Lucifer himself to shame.

War raged in his kingdom, enemy nations bombarding Seonghwa's empire in aims and high hopes to retrieve stolen loot and goods from his avaricious grasp. It was undeniable that such conflict took a tremendous toll, economically. After a long debate amongst those of the Higher Tables, they came to a unanimous decision: a barter, of course. One couldn't expect the King to cease his feast upon divinity. The King would return whatever loot that his soldiers obtained while ransacking villages and pillaging towns in exchange for one thing: the opposing realm's Princess. This trade would be a simple one and the poor soul would remain in a royal bloodline; the deal was flawless and Seonghwa's foes accepted the plea with no beat of hesitation. Three days is the window of time it took for rival troops to retreat from his territory, leaving behind their wake of destruction just as Park's militia did to them; though, providing relief and aid to the inhabitants of his kingdom were the last of his worries.

Now, he occupied his throne, his dark gaze focusing lazily on the marble floor that stretched out before him. Mirroring his eyes and their lethargy and intolerance, his shoulders slouched as his tall frame spilled across the chair, knees splayed as his chin rest in his left hand. Jack Frost was great friends with the King based on the ice that he harbored within his honeyed stare. Regardless, he sat like a pouting child awaiting the arrival of his... servant.

The princess discussed in the meeting that disbanded the hellacious battles on his turf and leveled the playing field? Y/N. You looked like a deer, willowy and shy. Your head was hung to look at the floor beneath you, hiding the turmoil in your gaze. You were a pretty thing; long, healthy hair tumbled down your back. Kind eyes framed with long, thick eyelashes. A natural beauty that caused a surge of heat to rush through the King's core. Slowly, the ice inside of him began to melt away. Everyone failed to mention that you had an attitude that could give Seonghwa a run for his money. He remained silent as his eyes drank you in... The first time you'd ever laid eyes on one other.

The rattle of chains caught Seonghwa's attention. In his seat, he corrected his posture, immediately looking more presentable and respectable in the presence of company. Amongst the small fleet of handlers, you stood in the middle, wrists bound in iron with your ankles encircled in matching restraints. Seonghwa dare not move, even as your handlers pushed you forward and stood at attention before their king. Clearly, you put up a fight. the tattered dress that hung haphazardly from your frame reeked of foul play. This deal between kingdoms was clearly one-sided. Luckily, there wasn't a bruise to mar your flawless complexion — wise on his staff's behalf.

"She is no slave. Remove those chains at once." Spoke Seonghwa, once he had his fill of scrutinizing you, noting how you looked equally pissed off and frightened. The guards responded, and with the clatter of iron striking the hard flooring, you now stood free, just before the King himself.

Another demand, "Leave us."

Seonghwa fell silent once more as he awaited the room to clear, and the burly mahogany doors leading into the throne hall to shut, thus leaving them in seclusion. Lithe fingers journeyed across his chin in thought as he crossed an ankle over his bent knee.

"Kneel."

Your mouth responded by hanging open. Your eyebrows knitted together in protest. An inhale to digest such an incredulous demand, then, "Pardon me?"

"I didn't stumble over my words, girl." Retorted Hwa as he rose from his chair, approaching you at an agonizing pace. Stalking you like prey. Seonghwa circled you once, your cautious eyes remaining on the King as he did such. "I told you to kneel."

The steely tone in the King's voice indicated to you that it was no blague. You finally gave in and sank to your knees, a quiver in your actions from weariness. Seonghwa smirked as he watched you comply, petting the top of your head. Whether it was in encouragement or to assert his dominance over you, you couldn't tell. It was apparent that you weren't used to being forced into submission like this... And by God, Seonghwa was going to use that fact and run it straight into the ground.

"As I said, you're no slave. Such a shame that you aren't." Grumbled the King, squatting down so that your faces were even, calloused fingertips lingering upon your dainty jaw.

"I'd rather die than serve you."

An exasperated sigh tumbled from Seonghwa's plush lips, and a hand came up to pinch the bridge of his nose. Then, he chuckled.

"So be it."

Rising from his position in front of you, he placed his hands on his hips as his eyes oscillated around the deliciously decorated throne room. He did this to create time and revise his next course of actions. Then, a firm foot planted itself into your chest, sending you reeling backward until your back was flush to the expensive marble. The King wasted no time as he straddled your torso, pressing your arms apart and pinning them to the floor using his knees. Seonghwa's hair fell into his face from such sudden actions and obscured his view, but posed no threat to the Crown's navigation as fingers enveloped your neck.

"You can wish me dead and hate your life, expecting me to do something about it. The simple fact is, my pet, you are my property. I own you. Every organic thought that riddles that head of yours is because I will it to be so." Seonghwa spits in your face. Usually, he wasn't the one to show all of his cards, but he refused to be disrespected inside his own castle. "You can spend your days in a cell, if you'd rather."

You flinched as saliva landed on your face, hatred, and disgust filling your stare, but no words of defense on your own behalf rolled off your sharp tongue — despite the turmoil raging within you being incredibly apparent (or, maybe, you were pathetically transparent). Recalling the chilly iron that bound your limbs earlier, a shiver crept up your spine. You had no quarrel with the bottom of the King's boot. Your wide eyes watched every move that the King made.

Despite the hatred that burned for the sadistic ruler, from below him, Seonghwa could see how your nipples had hardened — even through the tattered apparel you wore. And, fuck, did this inflate the King's ego. A wicked grin spread across the bottom half of Seonghwa's visage as a fire bloomed from his otherwise icy gaze. Once you realized that Seonghwa took notice of your blooming arousal, a deep blush seeped into your face and radiated to the tips of your ears. You parted your lips, and attempted to flounder for some sort of explanation, but instead, lie beneath Hwa with your mouth opening and closing as if you were a fish out of water.

"Do you genuinely think you are worthy of me, girl?" Asked Seonghwa through a smirk as his eyes scanned your blush riddled visage. His booming voice filled the room, instilling humiliation into your bones. This only added fuel to the heat that pooled between your legs. Could the entire palace hear of your sexual appetite?

"I–..."

"You what? Spit it out, now." The sinister expression on his face deepened further when you answered with silence, your eyes wide as you met his gaze. Coltish, curious, afraid. "That's what I thought. Next time, I'll have to cut that pathetic tongue out of your mouth."

The King removed himself from the rumple the two of you were in and returned to his throne to sit. Again, his knees parted as his feet were planted on the floor before him. He pointed to this space, waiting for you to comply with the unspoken orders given. Knock-kneed and cautious, you peeled yourself off the floor and closed the space between yourself and Seonghwa. Placing your hands on his thighs in order to brace yourself, you sank to the ground just as the King expected of you. Suddenly, and humorously to the King, submission began to settle into your bones as need clawed at your groin. It was evident in your eyes.

With his right hand, Seonghwa reached forward and slipped a few fingers beneath your chin, tilting your head back and forcing eye contact. "What is your purpose?"

Your eyebrows came together at the obscurity of the inquiry, but you still stammered out a response, "To become Queen...?" And there was honesty in your meek answer. All of your God given life consisted of how to be a good ruler, and what it meant to be a Queen. So, your answer was genuine, though confusion lilted your words. A smirk toyed at Seonghwa's lips, and he nodded as your response processed in his mind.

The King leaned forward until his lips were flush with your ear; hot breath fanned your face. His serpent tongue slithered from between his lips to lick the shell of your ear before he brought himself to speak.

A husky whisper, "When I'm through with you... I will be your purpose."

The fire of acrid hate dwindled to simmering coals within you. Instead of fueling your abhorrence, the warmth fed into the pool of feverishness that gathered in the pit of your stomach. The overwhelming feeling of ignominy and hedonism caused tears to well in your eyes, though you were quick to blink them away. Never had you been subjected to something like this — and never did you think that you would yearn for a man in such ways like you did now. This was especially conflicting to you because you didn't even know what Seonghwa looked like until you entered the same room as him.

Admittedly, you were floored when you first took in Seonghwa's appearance. From the talk amongst soldiers and townspeople when he frequented the market just outside of the castle, or stalked the long corridors that lie within the royal walls, their conversations of the King hovering over him lead him to believe that — perhaps — this King was a sea hag, or worse... Tales of his iron fist and cold eyes frightened you, thus leading you to never pursue any additional information regarding King Park Seonghwa and his tyrannical reign. Now that you taking in the King with your own eyes, he was, in fact, not the sea hag you had once imagined.

Instead, you were met with a man with a strong physique, obviously a warrior, and scars riddling his skin as proof. His raven locks hung in messy waves, framing his face beautifully. He had an angular face with dragon-like eyes that could pierce right through you. There was no denying that he was a stunning man. And his lips — . . .

Now, you sat positioned between the thighs of this devilishly handsome King, face burning with the heat of desire and embarrassment. Your eyes fell to the King's lap, your tongue growing thick in your mouth as you ached to reach out and remove the article of clothing, to reveal what lie beneath. From what you could gather in the few fleeting moments that his eyes were focused, the King was eager to give in to your carnality before a demanding grip drew your eyes back up to meet Seonghwa's.

Why do I feel this way? You questioned yourself, as you instinctively nuzzle your chin into Seonghwa's grasp. Deciding not to question it any longer and cave into your lewd cravings, you let out a soft whine to voice the need that was already addressed silently; after all, this is why Seonghwa wore that cocky smirk that drove you headfirst into compliance.

Of course the King noticed the lingering eyes on his crotch as he sat back from his position at your ear. The want that reflected in your stare made the King want to press his thighs together, but he couldn't do that since you sat between them. Instead, he released your jaw and shifted in his seat in order to fulfill your wish for your mouth to be invaded. His jewel-adorned hand rested lightly against the armrest as he gathered his thoughts.

"It seems we both have needs that demand they be sated." The King began, licking his lips to moisten them. Excitement gnawed at you and this eagerness was mirrored in your glassy eyes — the kind of look that Seonghwa wished to ruin. His smirk transitioned into a salacious grin, "You look ravishing this way, pet. What is your purpose?" He questioned again, an eyebrow raising expectantly.

"You."

Seonghwa drew his hand from its perch on the armrest so he could pull back and land a sharp, open-palmed slap across your face. The same decorated fingers leveled your head before pulling away and returning to the position he was in prior. "Who am I?"

Silence. Then, realization. "My King."

"Good girl," was the response. "what is your purpose?"

"You are."

"Worship me as so."

You took this as a clearance to act upon your cravings, and you sprung into action. Cold fingers slipped beneath the waistband of the fabric that caged the King's demanding sex. You tugged the front down to release his hardened erection, wanting to keep the King's modesty as he sat upon his royal chair... despite the want to be splayed out by him right on the floor. You halted as Seonghwa's cock was presented to you, your warm breath ghosting against the King's sensitive skin.

Just as Seonghwa was about to intervene, you dipped your head as you took the tip of Hwa's length into your mouth. Your mouth was warm, and tantalizingly wet as his hardened cock disappeared between plump lips. Electricity traveled across the King's skin, down his muscled thighs, and into his stomach. This time, an ornate hand carded its way into your hair. He pushed your head down to swallow more of his cock, impatience getting the best of him. You didn't mind though, and only braced yourself for more.

You knew what you were doing. You played him like a fiddle as your head bobbed along the King's cock, tongue flattened and molded to the underside of Seonghwa's excited shaft.

Hwa's head fell to the side, clear ecstasy written across his features. That didn't prevent the King from keeping his eyes on you, to watch your performance. The hand in your hair moved to cup the back of your head. His hips lifted from the throne on their own accord, assaulting the back of your throat with sloppy thrusts.

"You make your King feel so good, pet," muttered Seonghwa just before his teeth sank into his lower lip. "look at me as you please me."

You drew back to give attention to the head of his cock, tongue running along Seonghwa's slit and lapping up the pre-cum that dribbled out. At the King's demand, your eyes raised and leveled with Seonghwa's. Before he could realize, Hwa was teetering on the edge of his climax — so, he breathed out a warning, "Shit, I'm gonna —. . ."

You doubled down, arms slithering up into Seonghwa's lap until nimble fingers gripped at the King's waist, nose nestled into the cloth of Seonghwa's trousers as you took all the King's cock into your mouth. A rumbling moan emanated from Hwa as he released, your mouth milking him for what he was worth.

You pulled yourself off of the King with a delicious and all-too-intentional 'pop' and wiped your pleased smirk on your sleeve. Expectant eyes met Seonghwa's darkened ones, his eyebrows lowering as he read your expression.

"I suppose you're expecting me to do something to provide you relief?" Asked the King, his head falling back to rest on the back of the chair for a few moments. He readjusted his trousers as he came down from his climax.

"Yes, please, Your Majesty." You replied. Excitement lit up your gaze, and you shifted in place.

Seonghwa shot up in his seat, shoulders squared and clearly defensive. Such a change in demeanor would surely give someone whiplash. Now, you understood what everyone meant.

"Why should I give you anything? You're property. You think your Godly tongue will buy you anything, mewling quim?" The tip of Seonghwa's boot trailed up the inside of your thigh and dug the toe of his shoe into your clothed crotch. Not expecting such friction, especially because of the outburst that exploded from Seonghwa a moment ago, a whimpering moan bellowed from you, hips immediately jerking forward to seek out the contact. "As I said: you are undeserving of me."

You nodded in agreement whilst grating your hips aggressively against the tip of the King's shoe — anything to flood your body with the ecstasy that you were experiencing now. It was almost embarrassing at how fast you fell apart, writhing in the floor and uttering gentle curses as you were edged towards your own orgasm. Your fingers latched onto Seonghwa's pant leg as the radiating heat seeped down your thighs and caused your toes to curl.

Your body pulsated as you came, muscles clenching and eyes screwing shut. Seonghwa placed a majority of his weight on your clothed cunt now, wanting to enhance your orgasm as you came. Removing his foot from your clothed pussy, the dark place on the fabric displayed your pleasure. The hint of a grin tugged at the corners of Seonghwa's lips, but he stood and pulled you to your feet — earning a soft cry in protest from you.

"Go have the maids clean you up. I expect to see you at dinner." He pulled you to his chest, his hand pressing into the small of your back. "Whatever happens remains in this room, understood?"

"Mm." You hum in agreement, clinging to the King as your knees were too unreliable due to your orgasm.

"Good, now leave my presence."

Stumbling over your feet, you made your way to the heavy doors that previously closed the two of you off to the rest of the castle. Your sex-pinked skin revealed the activities that took place behind the closed doors. If not your complexion, the stain on your tattered clothes, or the languid grin and half-lidded gaze would be telling enough.

Pausing with a hand on the door, you threw a shy glance at Seonghwa from over your shoulder, just before slipping through. "Your Majesty."

[foggyfanfic]

Dinner the night that Octavia joins the family, not shown: Julieta generously topping off Alma's wine, proving why she's the golden child. In case you haven't read it yet, here's the story that precedes this scene under the cut.

Or read it on AO3

Of Daughters and Debts

“And what sound does it make?” Leandra asked patiently.

“Ummm,” Amada squinted at the book they were holding between their laps, just behind her Gabriel’s face was screwed up in an effort not to help. On the opposite end of the couch as Leandra, Bruno patted Gabriel on the back.

They were in the entryway to her and Bruno’s room that people sometimes used as a waiting room while Bruno had their requested visions. He usually tried to get folks to come into the room proper, so he didn’t have to do as much walking, but there were a few people who for whatever reason refused to come any further into Bruno’s room than they had to. Leandra wanted Bruno to just refuse to give those people visions, but they were the same sort who only ever came to him if it was truly important, so he felt obligated to do what he could for them. She also hadn’t wanted him to buy those assholes a couch to sit on, but he was a much kinder, more forgiving person than she was. He hadn’t even gotten them an uncomfortable couch, it was perfectly plush, horribly cozy. Much better than she thought Those People were owed.

Honestly, she was a little annoyed to be sat on the couch at all, unfortunately for her, this was where Amada had wanted to practice her letters. Usually they did reading time down in the storytelling tent, but the kids had helped Bruno pick out the new couch and were very attached to it.

In short, Leandra was the only one who hated the new couch.

“Is it ‘ah’?” Amada asked, and behind her Gabriel nodded eagerly.

“It is, very good,” Leandra ducked down, gently jostling her daughter in a show of affection, Amada giggled and tried to jostle her mother back, Leandra did her best to be jostled by a four year old.

“So what does that make the word?” Bruno asked.

“Um. Amarillo,” Amada said, mispronouncing the double "l" since she had yet to master her double letters.

“Good, so can you read the whole sentence?”

“The banana is yellow,” Amada read slowly, pausing between each word. When she got to the end Gabriel clapped for her, she grinned and bumped against him then frowned when he didn’t return the favor. Instead he patted her shoulder. They turned the page and Leandra frowned at the picture of the orange, Amada struggled with the fact that the letter “j” was nearly silent. Amada frowned at it as well, pressing her lips together.

Before she could start to argue that it was dumb for a letter to be largely silent, somebody knocked on the door. Bruno raised an eyebrow, when he noticed Leandra sending him a questioning look he shook his head and shrugged a little. He didn’t have any visions booked for the day. She handed Amada the picture book and stood, prepared to remind whoever it was that visions were by appointment only, no exceptions.

When she opened the door she was pleasantly surprised to see Jose Sanchez standing there with the cutest little toddler she had ever laid eyes on. The child had giant black curls, a wide round nose, and big sparkling dark eyes. Not only was the kid cute, but Jose owed Bruno money and had promised to bring some back when he came back from trading in the city. Not all the money owed, of course, just the excess of what he gave his wife.

“Oh, Señora Leandra,” Jose smiled politely, but somewhat stiffly, “is your husband in? May I speak with him?”

“He’s right here, actually,” Leandra opened the door wider so that Jose could see Bruno waving at him from the couch.

“Oh, great,” Jose looked between the two of them, and when he looked at Leandra he grimaced just the tiniest bit. She raised an eyebrow and debated asking if something was wrong with her being there, but she didn’t really want to start anything in front of the kids.

Especially since it might just be in her head, she really was feeling all bent out of shape over the couch situation. Was it really too much to expect the folks who come around asking Bruno for favors to treat him with some common decency? It’s not like he asked for money for his visions, didn’t seem unreasonable to say they owed him the barest sliver of basic respect.

“How did things go in the city,” she asked instead, trying to shove her thoughts aside.

“Great, great! Well, I didn’t sell much, but things are still great,” he said, and she began to suspect she knew why he probably wasn’t happy to see her. Bruno was a lot more likely to forgive debts than she was, at least when it came to the town’s merchants who traveled to and from the city.

Her childhood best friend was the daughter of one of those merchants, she knew how much money they made, they were the last people in the village who needed a hand out. And Jose definitely didn’t need one, judging by the brand new clothes he was wearing, how often he was down at the cantina buying rounds for the whole bar, or how many young girls he’d been buying jewelry for. It was possible he had spent the money he was supposed to be sending to his wife, who had separated from him and moved her and their kids in with her brother’s family after Jose cheated on her a few years ago. That was how he ended up owing Bruno money in the first place, he’d come to Bruno with tales of sorrow and guilt and had asked Bruno to give him a vision he could smash and sell to make things up to his estranged wife and kids.

Maybe on a different day, she would have let Bruno take over and shrug the debt off, if only to get this man out of her home that much quicker. But today was not that day.

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear the market was rough, have you come by to return the emeralds Bruno lent you,” she asked in a cheerful voice. Behind her she heard Bruno stand up and shuffle a little closer. She sent him a look over her shoulder, he frowned but subsided, silently agreeing to let her take the lead on this one. It's not like he actually wanted to have an awkward conversation, and they both knew it.

“Uh, no, I brought you guys something better,” he brandished the toddler in his arms, “you guys like taking in strays, right?”

Leandra briefly stopped breathing, her brain struggling to comprehend the sheer audacity of the man before her. Bruno must have had a similar problem because she heard him gasp, take a few steps forward, then abruptly stop when he was just a step or two behind her. Once the audacity was comprehended and she was sure that this man had in fact referred to her children like they were stray animals, she clenched her fists and grit her teeth. She forced herself to take a deep breath in, then slowly let it out before she did something she might regret. First and foremost, she needed to worry about the innocent child this lovely gentleman was offering, then she could start biting.

“Does this kid’s parents know you’re trying to sell their kid to pay off your debts?!”

“Probably not,” Jose said with a little shrug.

Leandra sent a startled look Bruno’s way just in time to see him step in between the door and their kids. Behind him, Gabriel encased Amada in light from the overhead lamp. Leandra turned back to Jose. He did not elaborate on how he acquired a kid to sell them without the kid’s parents being aware.

“What do you mean ‘probably not’?” She prompted, keeping her voice measured, and her fists carefully still.

“We found her on the way into the city, she was all by herself, no parents in sight,” Jose explained, lowering the toddler a little and loosening his grip on her, “you want her or not?”

Something about that nonchalant question pushed Leandra over the edge, as if the kid was the last empanada and not a little person, she snatched the toddler out of his hands and transferred her to Bruno, “Bruno, hold our new kid real quick!”

“Uh, right, sort of seems like something we should discuss first, but ok.”

“You,” Leandra hissed, pointing a finger under Jose’s chin, “you sniveling, self centered piece of slug shit! Where do you get off trying to sell a child, a human child to settle your debts. Debts you got, by the way, by being a deadbeat, drunk, failure of a father and husband. Do you-?”

“Now hold on,” he held up his hands to ward her off but she took a step closer to him, practically snarling. He took a startled step back.

“Do not interrupt me! Do you have the emeralds Bruno gave you?”

“No, but-.”

“Why not,” she asked, then when he hesitated to respond she repeated, “Why not?!”

“I uh I sold them.”

“Oh, well, what happened to not having a good time at the market?! Don’t answer that, I do not want to hear your excuses. Do you have the money you owe Bruno?”

“Um.”

“What did you spend it on?! And I’m warning you now, the honest answer better be your wife and children.”

“Now see here, I am a grown man, I can spend my money-.”

“But it’s not your money, it’s my husband’s. And he gave you those emeralds on the condition that you would use them to pay what you owe your wife,” Leandra cut him off, taking another step into his space, “have you?”

“I-I work hard, I deserve to have a bit of fun every now and then.”

Before she had truly thought it through she grabbed Jose by his ear and began dragging him down the hall, “Oh you work hard do you?! Well, that makes it perfectly ok to cheat on your wife with a bunch of poor naive girls young enough to be your daughters. And I’m sure when those girls wise up to all your lies and come to you teeth bared, they’ll feel just fine about their tattered reputations once you explain how hard you work.”

“Ow! Ow! You crazy bi-.”

“Call me that and you’re leaving without the ear,” Leandra snapped. She dragged him down the stairs next, “Your wife is working her ass off to care for the four children, I repeat four children, that you have all but abandoned. Meanwhile you’re drinking it up in every cantina that’ll take you, sleeping around like a cheap hostel bed, and trying to pay off your debts by selling a human being. A child no less! Work hard my ass! Deserve fun? The only thing you deserve is a beating far more thorough than I’m going to give you!”

As they passed through the courtyard Félix and Agustín emerged from the kitchen, each with a five year old in their arms, to see what the fuss was.

“And the thing is, as low as I think of you, I may just have forgiven you if only to get you away from my kids a bit quicker, but it’ll be a cold day in hell before I let anyone get away with calling my children strays!”

Behind her Félix sucked some air in through his teeth, then retreated into the kitchen despite Camilo protesting that he wanted to see what was happening. After a beat, Agustín did the same. Casita was kind enough to open the front door for her as she pulled her burden into the sun.

“You are not welcome in this house until you have the money to pay back my husband,” Leandra declared, marching towards town, “you are not welcome around my children until you learn some basic decency, if it was up to me you wouldn’t be welcome in my village until you quit being such an ass!”

With her quick stride they reached town before she'd finished her sentence, where they garnered a lot of stares from everyone they passed. Slowly, she became aware of the fact that her next words would decide whose side the village took. Her original plan was to drag him to a pigsty (where she personally felt he’d be right at home) but instead she dragged him straight to the church. Once there she finally let him go, but only long enough to open the large double doors. Then she dragged him to the threshold, and gave him a swift kick in the ass to push him over into the church.

“You need Jesus,” she wagged her finger at him, using her best Stern Mother voice, “you sit here and you pray to the lord and every saint you can think of for the strength to extract your inflated head from your ass, grow the fuck up, and be half the man a monkey is. You pray good and hard until you’re ready to be a god damned adult. You pray until the lord takes pity on you and grants you the sense he gave a headless chicken! And if you ever, EVER call my children strays again, you pray that god strikes you down before I do.”

Her piece said and anger almost spent, she gave him one last disgusted look and began to turn away, then a thought came to her.

“I’m going to be paying your wife a visit Friday, and if she hasn’t received the money you owe her, I will sell off all your fancy clothes to make up for what you owe,” she told him.

“You can’t do that!”

“Yes I can,” she smirked at him, then turned to those who had gathered around them to watch the show, “what does the village think? Should he be allowed to keep his silk shirts and linen suits while his youngest kid is walking around in shoes two sizes too small?”

Multiple people said no, and a few people booed. Sometimes, she loved how easily manipulated people got when they were in a mob. Usually she hated it, because usually the mob was eyeing her husband with trepidation, but she couldn’t deny how handy a tool it could be.

“There it is, stop being a selfish dick, before the rest of the village has to step in,” she nodded once, then turned and walked away.

She had no doubt that little display would be the talk of the town for the next month or two, Alma wouldn’t be happy about the gossip, but that man had it coming. Honestly, he had a lot more than a bruised ear and some public humiliation coming, so maybe Alma would thank her for her restraint. And it wasn’t like Leandra could just let him call her kids that. What message would it send to her children if she’d stood by and didn’t get pissed off when some lowlife was insulting them?

When she got back to Casita, Bruno was standing in the courtyard, holding the little girl in his arms, and talking to one of the other merchants. He smiled a little nervously when he saw her.

“Tía Leandra!” Camilo yelled before she could greet Bruno, he ran up with Gabriel and Amada hot on his heels, “Did you kill that guy?”

“I wish,” she said, and Bruno loudly cleared his throat, she sighed but switched into responsible parent mode and told the children, “but violence is never the answer. I wanted to get him out of the house, and away from you kids, but once we were far enough away I simply took him to church and encouraged him to pray on his actions.”

“Aw,” Camilo’s and Amada’s shoulders sagged, “that’s dumb.”

She swallowed a smile, god she loved kids, “Are you guys ok? I know seeing adults get angry can be sort of scary.”

“We’re alright Má, are you okay?” Gabriel asked.

She smiled at him and gently cupped his cheek, “I’m just fine mijo, just so long as my family is happy, I’m happy.”

“Is Octavia really going to be our little sister?” Amada asked.

“Octavia?” she raised an eyebrow and looked over at the little girl in Bruno’s arms. That was quite the name for such a little kid.

“That’s uh, that’s what we’ve been calling her Señora,” the merchant, Esteban, said while fiddling with his straw hat, “and uh, we didn’t bring her back to pay off Jose’s debt. I had no clue he was going to pull a stunt like that. It’s just… everyone knows you two love kids, and you’ve been very clear that you’d be happy to adopt more, considering how well it turned out with your first two. We thought you might want the option of adopting a third before we send her off to an orphanage or something.”

Leandra wanted to say yes, of course they were adopting her, but Bruno was right. This was the sort of thing they should talk about first, not just with each other but the kids as well.

“We a-appreciate that, of course we’ll take her in,” Bruno said, oblivious to the questioning look Leandra gave him.

“Marvelous, I’ll bring the clothes and such we bought for her by, after dinner if you don't mind waiting that long,” Estaban smiled, clearly relieved.

“Oh! Gracias, that’d be a big help, pretty sure we still have a few handy downs, but uh we’ll have to go digging for them,” Bruno said, shifting the toddler in his arms just enough for Leandra to see the little girl was chewing on his ruana. Judging by the way she was angling her head, it must have been for some back molars. Leandra racked her brain, trying to remember what age Amada was when her last molars started coming in.

“I don’t suppose you know how old she is? She’s got more teeth than I would expect for a kid her size,” Leandra asked.

“Been a while since my own kids were that little, sort of hard to remember the milestones,” he put his hat on and took his time straightening it, “they hit so many of them so quick.”

“Hm yeah, we remember,” Bruno said, looking at Amada, who Leandra could swear had been a baby just yesterday.

“We think she’s one, maybe as old as two, but she’s such a small little thing. Could be a baby that got her teeth early.”

Leandra nodded, then said to Bruno, “Well, we’ll at least know when she turns five.”

If they really were adopting her, that is. They really should discuss it.

Gabriel trotted over and leaned his head on Bruno’s arm so he could stare at Octavia, Amada followed him and hopped up and down on her tiptoes until Bruno set the toddler down on his feet. The kids stared at her, faces unreadable. Leandra nibbled on her lower lip, hopefully they were staring at their potential new sister that Bruno and Leandra had maybe already adopted on a whim with expressionless faces because they were overcome with joy.

Amada poked Octavia’s cheek then frowned when the only thing Octavia did was turn and stare at her.

“Thank you for taking her in on such short notice,” Estaban said, pausing at the front door, “with all my daughters being pregnant I don’t really have the space to take her in myself, but I don’t know, I couldn’t bare the thought of leaving her at an orphanage. Who knows what could happen to her if we did.”

Gabriel turned and stared at Estaban as he reiterated his promise to bring some clothes for her after dinner, then left. The man was always an interesting sight to behold, his daughters had married the second son of the hatter, the third son of a tailor, the stepson of a cobbler, and an artist. He had always been open about the fact that he chose to be a merchant because it meant he got to spend most of the year with his family, and all of his daughters still lived at home with their husbands. Their husbands who all practiced their fathers’ crafts, and had very different styles. Estaban made a point to wear one thing made by each son in law a day, so his hat was a traditional straw hat with a green hat band, his clothes were a very modern burnt-orange dyed linen suit, and his shoes were an experimental pair of sandals made of brown leather. He didn’t have anything from his artist son in law, but he was teaching the otherwise hapless young man how to trade and barter, so Leandra doubted the guy felt neglected by his family’s patriarch.

She also doubted Gabriel was staring because of Esteban’s garish attire, her son looked far too pensive for that.

When Leandra looked back at the toddler on Bruno’s feet, Camilo was gathered around her as well and Mirabel was walking out of the kitchen, eyes on the new kid. Amada poked Octavia again, this time Octavia reached a hand back at Amada.

“Are babies always this boring? I thought they were supposed to be cute,” Amada frowned up at Bruno.

“She is cute,” Bruno said, picking Octavia back up, “but sí, they don’t do much unless you take your eyes off them.”

“What do they do if you take your eyes off them?”

“Their absolute best to kill themselves,” Bruno said, “one time I looked away from you for two minutes to do the dishes and you had somehow climbed to the top shelf of the pantry.”

Gabriel stared up at Bruno, his brow wrinkled.

“So we’re keeping her?” Camilo asked.

“Bruno's right, we probably should actually discuss it,” Leandra said, earning a surprised look from Bruno, then tacked on, “but I would like to.”

“Me too,” Gabriel said, quietly.

Amada frowned up at Octavia in Bruno’s arms, “Can we see if she’ll do anything cool while we’re not looking before we decide?”

Bruno coughed to cover a laugh then gently said, “I would also like to adopt her, mija. Being your Pá has been one of the best things to ever happen to me, I-I would like more of it, you know.”

Amada did not look convinced, “Aren’t babies supposed to be loud too?”

“Sí, they can be,” Bruno nodded.

“Although she’s been pretty quiet so far,” Leandra frowned, wandering closer and checking Octavia’s eyes for any signs that something was amiss, “you would think this whole thing would be pretty overwhelming for a kid. She hasn’t made a peep, or really reacted to anything.”

“She reacted when I poked her,” Amada said, poking Octavia’s shoulder. Octavia made a little noise and looked at her.

“Yeah but… she might be old enough to talk a little,” Leandra said, “maybe… I mean if she has all those teeth she should be.”

“She is really small,” Bruno frowned, squinting down at the kid in his arms, “you think she’s getting enough to eat?”

“We’ll have to take her to a doctor, no matter what we do,” Leandra said.

Amada wrinkled her nose, “Tía Julieta can’t fix it?”

“Fix her being small? No, not right away at least,” Leandra shook her head.

Mirabel suddenly spoke up after observing everything in silence for a while, “If she has teeth that means she can eat normal food, right? Can't we just start feeding her?”

Bruno and Leandra made eye contact, silently asking each other how they would explain to a five year old what could happen if you overworked a starved stomach. They were saved the trouble when Amada poked Octavia’s shoulder again and the toddler swatted at Amada’s hand, saying something that almost sounded like a Spanish word, but not quite.

“Did she just speak French?” Leandra asked.

“That sounds like French,” Camilo confirmed, “sounds like something Pá said to Tío Felípe.”

“Did your Pá tell you what it means?” Bruno asked.

“Nuh-uh,” Camilo shook his head.

“If her parents speak French, they may be looking for her but struggling to communicate with local authorities,” Leandra pointed out.

“Estaban said they took turns trying to find her parents,” Bruno shrugged, “even got her picture taken and left it at all the police stations and orphanages. Basically anywhere worried parents might think to check. Nobody got in contact with them before they left town.”

“Hm,” Leandra put her hand on her hip, frowning at the toddler, “we’ll bring her to Félix, see what he can get out of her.”

“Will I have to change her diapers if she stays?” Amada asked.

“No, if she has this many teeth we can probably start potty training her,” Bruno shook his head, “although we’ll have to pull out the training seat. I-I mean it will take some time, some kids still have accidents when they’re your age or even older, b-but for the most part, no. No diaper changing for you.”

“You’re too short to reach the table anyway,” Camilo said.

“So are you,” Amada retorted.

Camilo opened his mouth to say something, then considered it, and instead said, “I’m ok with that.”

Amada frowned thoughtfully, “Sí, yo tambien.”

Meanwhile, Octavia crammed Bruno’s ruana back in her mouth and continued chewing at her back molars.

“Will she sleep in our room?” Mirabel asked, and Amada looked startled by the possibility.

“Uuuuh,” Bruno and Leandra stared at each other, having a silent conversation. Mirabel was still sleeping in the nursery with Amada, since her gift was… possibly nonexistent (although Bruno was still pretty sure the situation was more complicated than that). Throwing a baby in there right now, while Mirabel was still feeling pretty raw about not getting a magic room, didn’t seem very fair.

“She’ll sleep in our room for at least the first year,” Leandra said, while Bruno nodded. Maybe longer, when they had the chance she would suggest to Bruno they let Mirabel decide whether or not she wanted to share her room with Octavia when the time came.

“At least until we’re sure she’ll sleep through the night without disturbing you,” Bruno tacked on and Leandra took her turn to nod along.

“Oh, ok,” Mirabel said, sounding a tiny bit relieved. A lot of the tension leaked out of Amada’s shoulders as well.

“In that case let’s keep her,” Amada said.

Leandra leaned down, “Are you sure corazon? This is a big decision, it would be a big change, your Pá and I would have to devote a lot of attention to her for the first few years. We love you kids, and we love being parents, and we want to soak up as much of parenthood as we can get, but that doesn’t mean you have to love being a big sister. This is a four yes, or one no conversation.”

“Can I ignore her if I don’t like her?”

“Probably, Isabela ignores me all the time,” Mirabel said, completely missing the way Bruno and Leandra grimaced at her statement.

“Dolores ignores me too, especially when I’m playing parrot,” Camilo said, very cheerfully. This statement also made the two adults grimace, but for a very different reason.

“We won’t force you to play with her if you two don’t get along,” Bruno said, diplomatically, “a-although we do still expect you guys to be nice to each other.”

“Then I’m sure,” Amada said.

“Great,” Leandra said, a little tensely. Hopefully Amada would not end up disliking her little sister.

“Do we have to ask the other grown ups too?” Mirabel asked.

“Oh, uh,” Leandra sent a startled look to Bruno, were they supposed to ask the other adults? Nobody had asked them if they wanted more nieces and nephews before popping one out, but then again, the other two couples in the family tended to have children through a method that could result in surprises. The kids may have come into their lives as surprises, but it was sort of hard to actually adopt a child without meaning to.

“Maybe if we don’t point out she’s new they’ll think she’s always been here and they just didn’t notice,” Bruno said with a flinch and a shrug.

Leandra laughed, “Bruno we should absolutely not do that, but it’d be really funny, so sí. We’re just not going to bring up that we’ve adopted a third kid and see what happens.”

Amada grinned, “Can I help?! Can I pretend I helped pick out her name?”

“Sure,” Leandra said, shrugging.

“Me too! Me too,” Camilo jumped up and down.

“This is probably a bad idea,” Bruno hedged, but she could see the grin twitching at his lips.

“Yeah but it’s a hilarious bad idea,” Leandra straightened up with a shrug.

“What do we do?” Camilo asked.

Bruno bit his lip, then slowly started listing off everything they’d need to do to make it look like Octavia had been here for a while. Meanwhile Leandra looked at Gabriel, who was still staring at his new sister. She reached out and wrapped her arm around his shoulders, gently pulling him away to the other side of the courtyard.

“You alright mijo? You’re being very quiet.”

“Sí mamá, I’m fine,” he nodded, but didn’t meet her eyes.

“Gabriel,” she said, putting a finger under his chin to lift his face so she could see it better.

“I uh I don’t think Amada heard what that guy said, so everything is ok,” Gabriel whispered, still avoiding her eyes.

“Ah, but you did,” Leandra sighed and pulled him into a hug, then adjusted her grip on him so she could look down at his face without fully letting him go, “ignore him mijo, he was being an asshole. You’re not a stray, you’re my son. And we were hardly the only people who wanted you. We’re lucky to have you.”

“Really? Who else wanted me?”

“Your Tía Rosalie and Tío Felípe were both open to adopting you and your sister if Bruno and I hadn’t,” Leandra said, then hesitated before reminding him, “a-and your Abuelo was beside himself with worry for you when he dropped you off, it was obvious how much he loved you.”

And how much it broke him that his son had almost killed his grandson, but Leandra didn’t mention that. There were a lot of things that broke Señor Gutierrez, his son’s crimes and subsequent exile, possibly his wife’s death, then his son becoming a child abuser who maybe also killed Amada’s birth mother. Getting into the collapse of that man’s sanity would be a whole mess of questions, bad memories, and speculation.

Gabriel smiled a tiny bit, then turned to look back at Octavia.

“Seriously mijo, what’s on your mind, if you don’t want another sister-.”

“No, I do. I-I just uh, I don’t know, what would have happened to her if she went to an orphanage?”

“Oh. It’s hard to say,” she hedged, Gabriel understood better than any of the kids how cruel the world could be, but that didn’t mean she wanted to encourage his anxiety, “with how cute she is she probably would have been adopted as soon as she was dropped off.”

Gabriel stared at her, eyes solemn and far too knowing for an eight year old, “And if she wasn’t adopted?”

“Then uh she would grow up at the orphanage,” Leandra said.

“Is that a good thing?”

Finally she sighed and admitted, “It depends mijo, just like whether or not growing up with a family is a good thing depends on what sort of people your parents are.”

This Gabriel understood, and he nodded. He was coming out of a weird phase where he broke things on purpose to see how they would react. He was probably testing if he could provoke Bruno into losing his temper, since it was mostly Bruno’s things that got damaged. Bruno had eventually gotten irritated enough to bluntly ask Gabriel why he was trying to piss him off, and they were making him help Leandra sell her soaps so he could pay to replace what he broke, but it seemed they had passed his test. Now he kept slipping into these morose moods where he asked startling questions like “Pá do you ever think about murdering people when you’re angry?” or “Má, does Pá ever hit you in private?”. On the one hand, Leandra got that he was a very young kid trying to process his birth father almost murdering him, on the other, sometimes she worried she and Bruno wouldn’t be enough to help him.

Now he stared across the courtyard at the little girl and asked, “Why do you guys like taking kids in so much?”

Leandra thought about lying, she thought about giving him a generic mom answer like saying because she loved them too much to not take them in, she even considered giving him the half truth that she wanted to be a mother and it was as simple as that, but instead she said, “You know I’m adopted too, sí?”

He nodded.

“My Pá didn’t have to love me, he didn’t have to raise me and feed me and spend his hard earned money on me, but he did,” she gently moved aside some of the curls brushing his forehead, “who knows what would have happened if he hadn’t taken me in. Who knows who would have raised me, what person I'd be, what life I would lead. I… am grateful for the life he gave me, and when I was a little older than you it sank in that I ended up with this life purely out of the goodness of his heart and I asked him what I could do to thank him. Do you know what he told me?”

“What?”

“He told me to love my own children as fully and joyfully as he loved me. That if I gave his grandchildren the best life I could give them, he would consider it payment for every new pair of shoes, every dish I broke, every night he stayed up rubbing my back as I puked into a bucket,” she said.

He thought about it for a little, then asked, “Do you want me to do the same? Love my kids as much as you love me?”

Leandra shrugged, “I mean, big as an impact as that conversation had on me, by then I already knew I wanted to be a mother someday. Your abuelo was happy to take me in, but he didn’t spend his childhood dreaming of being a parent the way I did. And if you don’t dream of parenthood either, that’s ok.”

“Oh,” he said, and she couldn’t decipher what the look on his face meant.

“I always wanted to be a mother, and I figured out on my own how blessed I was to have my Pá, but my Pá made me realize I could pay my blessings forward. I’m not saying you’re indebted to us or anything, I’m saying that,” she cut herself off with a sigh, then took a few seconds to formulate her next words, “I personally have had a really good life because my mother’s best friend decided to love me as his own when she passed, if he hadn’t made that decision I may not have had a good life, and it feels… I don’t want to take what I have for granted. You know?”

He nodded. She stared at him for a second.

“I wish you could take your father and I for granted,” she blurted, before it occurred to her that was sort of a heavy thing to say to an eight year old.

“What do you mean?”

She gulped down her emotions and simply said, “Your father and I will always love you and your sister. Sisters. Even when you’re causing trouble, or angry at the letter ‘j’, or chewing a hole in your Pá’s ruana. Please never forget that.”

“I won’t,” he promised, with all the solemnity of a monk taking a holy vow.

“Bien,” she kissed his forehead, “you’re a good son, now go help your father lie to the rest of the family.”

He grinned, ducking his head so his halo of curls hid his eyes, but not the way the scars on his face caused artificial dimples. With a loyal “Sí Mamá” he trotted back to Bruno’s side and eagerly asked how he could help.

Leandra stood back and stared at her newest daughter, who was still slobbering all over Bruno while she watched the other kids buzz around her excitedly with fascinated eyes. She thought fondly of her own father’s warm hugs, or his gruff and off key attempts at singing her lullabies, and quietly vowed to herself she would love this little girl just as thoroughly. Then she shook off her thoughts and reminiscences, put on her warmest smile, and took up her post at Bruno’s side.

[your-local-hoemie]

OOO okayokay can i request childe and thoma with s/o thats very clingy? S/o will hug and link their arms whenever they meet and s/o also likes to give them small kisses on the cheek :D

-🐢anon

Aaaaaaa that’s adorable!! I’m sorry if it’s not super great but I got so excited getting my first request!! And how can I pass up my two favourite gingers (yes thoma is ginger. Yes I will fight to the death on that debate) 😌

Warnings: Fluff, more fluff, the tiniest bit of angst if you squint hard enough (Childe’s), not proof-read, gn!reader, established relationship, pet names.

Characters: Childe, thoma.

CHILDE~

He finds you absolutely adorable!

plus you’re really boosting his ego I hope you know that.

it’s his favourite part of the day!

when you wrap your arms around his arm don’t be fooled by his flirtatious front

not much can catch him off guard but man’s heart is flipping and do a jig that even venti would be impressed by~

yes that is a blush you’re seeing and not just the “heat”

he constantly has to deal with the pressure of being a harbinger and the pressure of wanting to become stronger

so when he feels your warmth as you snuggle into him or hug onto whatever limb grabs your liking first he really can’t help but feel at peace

he doesn’t think he deserves the affection you’re so willing give to him

after all his hands are stained with the blood of so many victims

he’s crushed men in his palms without breaking a sweat

yet here you are, laying your head on his chest listening to the heart he once thought was incapable of feeling at peace, tracing his fingers while telling him about your day

he’ll never understand what you see in him no matter how much false confidence he puts on show but he does feel proud to know he’s the one you can let your guard down around~

It had been a long day for the harbinger. He had spent almost every hour doing some kind of training with the new recruits or simply training his own skills with bosses that could never quite satisfy his masochist tendencies. It was right as he finished up for the day that he was greeted by a familiar voice.

“Childe!”

You eagerly ran over to him not caring about the startled onlookers from your shout. Reaching his side you locked arms looking up with a giant grin

“How was your day? I missed you!”

Nuzzling your face into his arm you didn’t notice the flustered ginger looking at you with his dull blue eyes being the closest to sparkling that they ever had.

“Haha oh just the usual, nothing too exciting. Though I did miss you too, cutie”

he let out a soft chuckle rubbing the back of his neck as a slight dusting of pink grew on his cheeks.

“Oh shush, we both know you’ve done things even the most experienced adventure would find unbelievable! Come on. I accidentally made way too much food back home, you can tell me all about it over dinner!”

Glancing back up at him you slide your arm down his and held onto his hand locking fingers with him as he let out a chuckle laced with pride, puffing his chest out.

“What can I say, it really is just a normal day for me, comrade. It’s tough being as amazing as me you know”

Letting out a soft giggle you nudge his side causing him to let out a laugh, hunching over slightly before his mind goes blank as you place a soft smooch on his cheek.

Literally just all of his thought process has been cut off.

“What was that for??”

“I just thought you looked cute and your cheek looked lonely”

With a grin he clears his throat regaining his composure before leaning into you returning your kiss as he feels all of his stresses melt away at your adorableness.

Thoma~

Please give this boy all the affection he deserves

He loves you so much and it’s so comforting to him that you’re happy to show him your feelings in return!

He will get very flustered if you do it in public though

He’s not against it at all! He just gets so blushy and his words will stop wording

We all know Thoma is the perfect house wife

He thoroughly enjoys helping people out

But even he gets run down

It’s times like these when feeling you hug him with so much love and adoration that really makes his heart melt

He also doesn’t think he deserves you or the love you shower over him so eagerly but he wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world

He adores you and thinks you’re the sweetest angel he’s ever met and will do everything he can to protect your smile~

It had been another busy day for the Cheif Retainer of the Kamisato clan.

He had a particularly frustrating incident after he accidentally disturbed a family of birds nested in a bush he was trimming causing them to form their own version of the archon war on the poor boy.

Opening the door to your shared house he let out a tired sigh closing it behind him only to be welcomed by the inviting smell of food coming from the kitchen.

“Baby, I’m home. What are you up to?”

Walking into the kitchen he was greeted by the image of you excitedly hurrying over to him giving him a tight hug before squishing his face giving him a kiss on his nose, giggling at his warming cheeks and disheveled look.

“It looks like my favourite boy in all of Inazuma could use some rest, come sit down, I made us dinner!”

“You really don’t have to, you know I don’t mind cooking, really!”

“You already do so much sweetheart, let me do the work this time and show you the appreciation you deserve!”

Letting out a flustered chuckle he couldn’t help but take note of how adorable your determination was as you locked arms with him leading to the table placing a soft kiss on his cheek then his forehead, not being able to deny you of some much welcomed softness.

During dinner he told you all about his day while you held his hand softly rubbing his knuckles in sympathy at the woeful tale of his bird misfortune, giving small kisses in his cheeks whenever his tired mind threatened to fall asleep right there on the table.

“I really don’t know what I’d do without you, sweetness”

Thoma smiled peacefully as he relaxes under the warmth of you holding him close under the blankets playing with his hair and leaving the occasional kiss on his head, basking in the sweetness you bring to his constantly hectic life~

This was so fun to write! I apologise if it’s not super great being my first attempt but thank you for the request!!! I absolutely powered through this at 5am and I have zero regrets~

[inkybinkyboink]

just one more

word count: 2341

rating: mature (no smut, just bad times)

trigger warnings + tags: angst, drug use, implied/referenced child ab/se, implied/referenced su/c/de, implied/referenced r/pe/noncon (if you squint? also kind of depends how you choose to interpret it but just in case folks would like a trigger warning), internalized homophobia, blood, not beta read, let me know if i should tag anything else! 

characters/pairings: lalo salamanca, nacho varga

ao3 link?: here

fic under the cut!

and to think nacho thought the man was confident without any drugs in his system.

nacho stayed in a corner, next to a house plant, with his arms crossed over his chest, watching the party go on as the clock ticked further and further into the night. all of the music had blended together a while ago, and nacho wasn't even really listening anymore. it was all just a loud drone with a heavy bassline. he was tired, and he could feel it in his chest and in his eyes. he could feel his eyelids getting heavy, the warmth of the room getting to him. he felt a little bit like a kid at a christmas party that remained tucked away in the recesses of his memory all hazy and colourful with splotches of light, waiting for his dad to finish saying his never-ending goodbyes to their family and friends before meeting nacho at the door, arms laden with leftovers from dinner.

dear god, if only.

the only thing that kept him grounded and awake was the inescapable, unmissable smell of alcohol, cigar smoke and men's cologne that smelled bad no matter how much it happened to cost. nacho thought that if this was how all cartel parties went, then he was packed and ready to start hunting for an alternative career, fully prepared to go running and crying back to his dad's automotive shop begging for another job.

of course, he hadn't arrived alone. most of the night he'd been staring at lalo, making sure he didn't do anything stupid. making sure that the trust he'd bent over backwards to gain didn't vanish in the blink of an eye. or maybe nacho was just giving himself something to do so he wouldn't get bored. lalo was so much more unreserved than him, like he had a secret talent for socializing with anybody and everybody. he kissed the girls on their cheeks, and he clapped the men on their backs, laughing and sharing a drink with every person he came across. nacho debated stepping in and saying something when a baggie of cocaine started being passed around, but he remembered how nonchalantly lalo had snorted some a few weeks back and decided to not do anything.

nacho watched as lalo made eye contact with him from across the room, and a devilishly maniacal smile curled onto his face. nacho was the one who broke first and looked away, but it didn't stop lalo from striding over, and grabbing the younger man, forcefully moving him around, like he was trying to make nacho dance.

and to think nacho thought lalo was confident without any drugs in his system.

"hey man, ow, what are you doing?" nacho asked stepping away from lalo, only to be roped into a bone crushing embrace where the only thing he could see was darkness. he heard a loud laugh reverberate through lalo's chest and when lalo finally let him go, he was still chuckling.

"you're so funny, ignacio, i've been telling everyone here you're the funniest person i ever met." lalo said, sniffing and rubbing his nose, body subconsciously moving to the beat of the music. his pupils were black and round like plates, and though lalo didn't even notice, his hands were shaking.

"i've been telling everyone like, 'go talk to ignacio, he just got in the game big time, he's a funny guy, you'll like him'. people been coming up to you? talking to you? i haven't seen anyone over here. assholes. maybe it's because of the light. it's definitely the light, nachito, trust me. man, why are you all the way over here? making buddies with the house plant? come on, hey, you gotta go check out the dance floor. the lights are wicked cool, especially with- oh right, man, i almost forgot, here, do you want a bump?" lalo said, speaking faster than a paranoid kid hopped up on pure sugar. he pulled a baggie out of his pocket. nacho frowned, not remembering seeing lalo with his own bag of blow. the taller man waved it under nacho's nose and he scrunched up his face, retaliating at the harsh chemical smell.

"no thanks." he said, looking up at lalo, almost apprehensive. it only made lalo laugh again, rubbing his nose and shifting his weight for the fifth time in thirty seconds.

"you're such a sourpuss, nachito. it's not even just coke. i got this as a- a- what do you call it, regalo, a treat, a buddy here was selling and i thought why not yknow? you ever had crank and blow together? shit- it's intense. you want some?"

"nah, i'm good. thanks, lalo." nacho said again, not sure if lalo was even listening, or heard him.

"shit, it's been a while since i've done this. it's like, way more intense than just coke. your loss man, i'm telling you." lalo said, shaking his head at nacho, scooping some up with his pinky nail. nacho didn't ignore the similarities between lalo and tuco. they both tightly squeezed their eyes shut and shook their heads after. nacho noticed how they both shared the same intense look, and he wondered if it was genetic, or just an addict's trait.

lalo let out a noise that sounded cathartic more than anything.

"goddamn that never gets old. hey ignacio, wanna go dance? dance with me, nachito, dance with me until the sun comes up and then i'll make us whatever you want for dinner- i meant breakfast- i meant- i'll make you food. whatever you want. dance with me, cabron. dance with me before the Don shoots you in the head like he did to Fring's stupid little fucking queer." lalo laughed like it was the funniest thing he'd ever said or heard in the world.

nacho felt something akin to fear bubble in his chest and he frowned at lalo preparing another bump. he swallowed, ready for any sort of backlash he was about to receive.

"hey, man, how- uh- how about you slow down on the speed, okay?" he asked, gently. lalo smirked and shook his head, snorting another dose like it was nothing.

"no, no, no, ignacio, i'm good, i'm good. promise. i shouldn't have said that thing about fring or whatever, i'm cool, i'm cool. shit dude, you gotta try this."

"lalo, i'm uh- we still have to head back, yknow? it's almost 3:30."

"yeah, i know. i told you i'd make you lunch didn't i?" lalo looked at him, his eyes black and dark. he sniffed again, twice and rubbed his nose. "hang on, this is bothering the shit out of me. im gonna go get some paper towel, i'll be right back. don't move, ok? i wanna dance with you."

lalo clapped nacho on the shoulder and stumbled off to find the bathroom.

there was a pit in nacho's stomach, and something gnawed from inside his chest. nacho heard lalo tripping into another wall and followed him to make sure he didn't split his head open on a door knob or something.

around the corner, it was already immediately about ten times quieter than where the heat of the party was happening. eladio's walls muffled the sound of the speakers and noise, and lalo turned when he heard footsteps behind him.

"nachito, i told you, i was cool- just gimme a second-" he said, looking at nacho a few feet away from lalo standing in the doorway of the bathroom. "i'll just- fuck-"

suddenly everything began to feel foggy, and lalo felt something trickle down his nose. he sniffed and rubbed it again, annoyed, frowning when the back of his hand came back smeared with bright red. his fingers touched his upper lip and he found them wet with blood.

"hey- just gimme a sec-" he told nacho, holding out his hand to reassure him. he only realized how much the door frame had been keeping him steady until he let go, and he stumbled, heading head first to the floor.

"woah, hey, easy." nacho said, suddenly supporting him, guiding him over to the edge of the tub, sitting him down.

for a brief second lalo had the odd pensive thought that it was fascinating how quickly things stopped being fun. it was almost immediately overshadowed by how badly his head had suddenly started to hurt, and how shitty lalo felt. his heart pounded in his ears and he felt his chest rise and fall way too quickly. for the first time in hours he noticed how badly his hands were shaking, and the blood staining his fingertips made him flinch, as if he thought someone had hit him. his mind started racing, eyes darting over the place. the door was closed. when had they closed the door? was it nacho? nacho? hector? huh? the light- the light was bright, the bright- the bedroom lamp- the bathroom light- a gun- a gun! a gun, there was a gun to his head- no! a gun in his pocket, in the back of his pants, there was a gun in the back of his pants, his pants? he was bleeding. there was blood on his pants? no, on his hand. his hand. his hand, there was blood on his hand. his blood? his blood.

"nacho turn the light off?" lalo asked. his voice was deeper than he remembered. remembered? fuck he was remembering things? god please no, please not now. maybe more, maybe more? maybe another bump would make this stop. another bump would make it all stop. that would be nice, if it all just...stopped. there was a gun in the back of his pants, after all.

when lalo reached to grab it, he found nothing there.

maybe that had been another time. another time, god, he, no, no more remembering. his mouth- he tasted iron. he tasted iron like- metal- like- the gun? no. no that wasn't that time. that was that time, this was this time and it wasn't- it was blood. blood, lalo tasted blood. who's blood? his? but- which time was this? was it before or after? the sink was running. definitely after. it was bright, so bright and there was blood in lalo's mouth and, and, and,

"nacho turn the light off!" lalo shouted, rubbing his face, eyes screwed shut. grab the bag in his pocket. another- maybe more- maybe another bump would make it stop.

"the light is off." nacho said, frowning, wetting a towel in the sink. when he turned and saw lalo sitting on the ground, hyperventilating, going out of his mind, nose running with blood, he rushed over and pressed the towel to lalo's face, supporting his head with his free hand. "hey, can you hear me?" he asked, praying that lalo wasn't about to die right in front of him.

"can you hear me? lalo!" nacho snapped his fingers in front of lalo's face. "hey, open your eyes. come on man,"

lalo had his arms crossed across his chest, gripping his shoulders, gasping for air, air- air- please- he needed air- he couldnt breathe- he- oh god this was awful this was so so awful, just, another, maybe, his mouth tasted like wet and iron and, who's? was it? he couldn't remember. he was tired. god he was so so tired. his body was so tired. he was so tired- sleep- he wanted to sleep- please just- let him sleep- body- the iron in his mouth- when- he hadnt slept in- sleeping- he was tired and scared- of sleeping? he couldn't remember. he was scared of- was he scared? why would he be scared? he was going to sleep? he was going to sleep. when he woke up this would all be over. it would all be. it would all be over.

"lalo? lalo! jesus fucking- lalo!" nacho shouted, pulling the cloth away. lalo's head fell into nacho's shoulder, and nacho had to shift to hold him properly so he didn't slump against the side of the bathtub like some rotting corpse left as a cheap halloween scare.

"shit. shit, shit, shit, shit." nacho said, holding lalo in his arms. now his hands were shaking. fuck. ok. his nose had stopped bleeding. good. nacho pressed two fingers to lalo's neck. he still had a pulse. good. the younger man leaned down and listening to lalo's chest. he was still breathing.

good.

maybe he had just passed out.

hopefully.

nacho varga sat with lalo salamanca in his arms and bit his lip trying not to cry.

it was nearly 5 in the morning when lalo woke up. there was a shirt draped over him and a towel folded up under his head acting as a pillow.

nacho sat leaning against the vanity, elbow leaning against his knee, his hand supporting his head. he'd nodded off about twenty minutes ago.

the party had died down only at the ass crack of morning and it was finally, finally, completely silent.

lalo groaned and rubbed his face, sitting up. nacho was awake in an instant.

they were alone in the bathroom and dawn shone soft beginnings of light through the window. only enough to see each other.

"water." lalo said, voice hoarse and sore. nacho was quick to grab the glass by the sink and give lalo what he wanted.

"you worried me. last night." nacho said. lalo made a noise and shook his head.

"it's fine."

"i don't-"

"ignacio," lalo said, standing, setting the towel back on the shelf and giving nacho his button down back. he smiled at nacho and it was no longer maniacal. no longer reinforced by hard drugs. just...mischievous, like a cat planning to eat the family pet fish. normal.

"i said it's fine. let's head home, yeah?"

"yeah." nacho said, sighing.

lalo splashed some water on his face, smoothed out his moustache, dried his face and left the bathroom like nothing had ever happened.

he would deal with the problems another time.

perhaps while he was high.

[delimeful]

the end of being alone (3)

Ch 1 | Ch 2 |

warning: mentions of fear, crocodiles, discussion of teeth

-

Logan found himself grateful that he’d made arrangements to postpone their other jobs for a bit, because it looked as though they’d be staying firmly on this planet’s surface for a while.

There had been all of one attempt to bring Virgil aboard the Mindscape, and it had resulted in a significant amount of crying from both the child and Patton. Whatever circumstances had led the Human to this planet, it had left them deeply fearful of any sort of spacefaring vessel.

… This did not annul Logan’s suspicions about smuggling, though he was careful not to say as much in front of Virgil. The child was keen, and any time the fact that they were a Human was mentioned, they withdrew and began displaying body language that Logan believed indicated a desire to flee. Checking that exits were still there, putting space between themself and any of the Mindscape’s crew, anxious tics, and so forth.

Needless to say, they avoided the topic.

However, to Logan’s surprise, the child didn’t seem at all adverse to basic questions about themself. Understanding their responses was rare, of course, but the kid was picking up on Common with a shocking quickness, and Roman had turned out to be rather talented at interpreting their gestures when they didn’t have the right words.

The data that Logan had collected from these inquiries was both strange and intriguing. He’d carefully woven a mental list of it all.

1. Virgil seemed to identify by he/him, though whether that was an actual gender preference or simply a child wanting to be called the same pronouns as the three of them was up for debate. Either way, Logan seriously doubted that there was any way to convey the nebulous concept of gender through a language barrier, so he let the matter lie.

2. After eating too fast, Virgil would convulse slightly in a semi-rhythmic pattern for a short period. He didn’t seem alarmed or pained by this, only slightly irritated when it would interrupt him mid-sentence. The condition of ‘hiccups’ was thankfully temporary, since it made Roman quite jumpy. For their tiny, squeaking nature, Patton had called them ‘hicchirps’, which was ridiculous, but Virgil seemed to enjoy any and all wordplay that made it through his grasp of the language, so Logan stowed his complaints.

3. Virgil was terrified of the locals. Despite being plainly evident, this observation didn’t make sense at first, seeing as the nearby town consisted primarily of native Hiiynal and a few offplanet transfers, none of which could be described as particularly dangerous or violent. After a few days of gentle questioning and no reprimands for not answering, Virgil finally told them that the locals would ‘chase monsters far away’ and so he couldn’t risk getting near. Questioning was temporarily halted in favor of showing the Human the art of shadow symmetry, for purely scientific reasons, of course. 

(Supposition: Human children enjoyed movement games.)

4. While the synthetic meat from the ration kits was accepted by Virgil, he showed a surprising preference for sweeter food items, such as fruit and sugar crystals. Seeing as Humans were rumored to be obligate carnivores or even raw flesh-eaters, this was a strange discrepancy. Virgil had even eaten some of the leafy vegetables Logan had brought, face pinched up in disgust but insisting that eating ‘greens’ would make one tall. It was unclear to Logan what color had to do with nutrients or growth. He was also slightly alarmed at the implication of Virgil being short for his age.

5. Virgil seemed, for all intents and purposes, fixated on Roman.

The latest data point was a work in progress. Logan hadn’t mentioned it to Roman himself, because the Cravon was already fairly worked up over everything the Human did as it was. Nobody seemed sure if this jumpiness was because of the Human child, or on behalf of it.

Still, it was present in little ways. For example, even as he answered Logan’s latest series of questions, his gaze would occasionally flicker up from his hands to Roman, who sat at the mouth of the little cave, carefully peeling more fruit. It wasn’t about the food; Patton had taken it upon himself to make sure the child knew he only had to ask to get something to eat. No, this  ‘almost-staring’ was a frequent occurrence, no matter what Roman preoccupied himself with.

“You were saying you met… Susan… when another predator was attacking it?”

Virgil nodded, hurriedly looking back to his hands. “It was a big bite monster, and Susan was loud crying, so I did, uh,” he lifted his arms up, hands spread wide, “this, and I was loud at it until it ran away. Like raccoons back on Dirt.”

Dirt was apparently Virgil’s name for his home. Logan hadn’t heard of ‘raccoons’ before. He decided not to get sidetracked. “I’d estimate the creature you saw was a Lifel. They are the natural predators of Humlilts.”

“Natural?” Virgil mimicked.

“It means ‘of nature’,” Logan attempted to clarify, gesturing around them. “In the wild.”

Virgil only grew more confused with the wide, encompassing gesture. “Sky? Was not flying.”

Logan glanced at Roman, checking that he was still preoccupied. Patton was back at the ship, contacting a friend for advice. There seemed no better opportunity if he wanted to avoid overwhelming Virgil.

“Virgil, would you like to try something new?” he asked, carefully neutral. It wouldn’t do to put any pressure on the child.

The Human squinted at him slightly, quick to use his most common phrase. “Will it hurt?”

“It will not hurt,” Logan replied, ignoring the tightening in his core with careful practice. It always felt so wrong, that a mere pupa would be so familiar with hurt. “I will always tell you if something might hurt.”

“Mmm.” The Human hummed, the way he always did when they told him such things. Like he wasn’t sure if he could believe it. “What’s it?”

“What is it,” Logan corrected automatically. “It is something I can do, to show you new words. Want to try a little bit, first?” That was the phrase they used for new foods, but it applied well enough to mindsharing.

Virgil clenched and unclenched his hands for a moment longer before nodding, going a little tense like he expected something unpleasant. Logan held a hand out to him, waiting until he’d reached out in return to start sharing.

Small, simple flashes of images and sensations. Quiet forests, shallow oceans, clean air. Plants, bugs, animals, humanoids, living and dying and living again. Nature.

Virgil had pinched his eyes closed immediately at the start of the low-level telepathy, and Logan only had a moment to worry that maybe it had hurt him in some manner.

Then, there was a feeling of recognition. Without a moment to spare, Virgil had grasped the nature of the Vidi and was projecting his own thoughts. Walking on a crunchy leaf-covered trail with other Human young, a winged insect emerging from a cocoon, the crack of thunder and heavy rain on a windowsill. Nature.

“Wow!” Virgil whispered, imprint thoughts flickering like flames, too quick for Logan to really see. “You see into heads!”

Logan pulled back slightly, offering a bit of content-smug in return to the Human’s awe. “That is one way of framing it, yes. So, you understand what I mean, about the Lifel being a natural predator?”

“Carnivore,” Virgil mumbled, and then offered image-thoughts of several creatures that Logan could only assume were from the deathworlder’s home planet. He watched with morbid curiosity as Virgil remembered a clip from a screen, displaying large ungulates with twisting horns crossing a river, and then being dragged underwater by a dark, writhing shape.

“That’s a crocodile,” Virgil told him, his eyes still closed tight in concentration. “They’ve got big teeth and they do death rolls. They look like alligators, but I know they aren’t because gators live in Florida.”

“Florida?” Logan asked. He wondered if perhaps ‘gators’ were kept in captivity for species preservation. Or perhaps they were too dangerous left in the wild?

Virgil showed him a memory of a long, reptilian form with a narrow, tooth-filled jaw. It was wading steadily through a swimming pool, not paying any mind to Virgil, who was sitting with his legs dipped in the pool, watching in fascination. “I lived there!”

“Oh,” Logan managed, his ears going numb with fear at the idea of a child being so near a creature like that. “So it would seem.”

The Human patted him carefully, a gesture of comfort. “It’s okay. The bad guys didn’t take any gators or crocodiles from Dirt. Just people.”

Virgil’s words trailed off, a sense of melancholy overwhelming him. Rather than find out more about the Human’s past, Logan felt an unreasonably strong urge to stop that sadness. “Could you perhaps tell me more about these… ‘crocodiles’? You seem to be quite informed on them.”

“I had a book about them,” Virgil managed, slowly dragging his thoughts away from his abduction. “Did you know some crocodiles have a… a ‘biting force’ of five thousand pounds?”

He had lapsed into English, the sentence sounding well-recited, but Logan still got the general idea of what he meant, and a strong image of a picture book, covered in writing he couldn’t read but still understood. If Logan was right about the measurement conversions, the fact was terrifying.

“That’s very interesting,” he mused, because terrifying and interesting often went hand in hand. “Are there any other predators that can bite like that?”

Virgil scrunched his face up in thought. “Maybe sharks. Oh, but for sure a T. Rex!”

Logan saw a very concerning glimpse of a large fish with too many teeth before Virgil’s mind switched to a cartoon depiction of a larger creature with also too many teeth. He was beginning to see a trend in deathworlder species. “I… see.”

“They’re all dead, though,” Virgil told him sadly, projecting a memory of a huge display of bones. He then seemed to perk up, glancing over at Roman again. “Except for in space!”

Logan narrowly avoided laughing out loud, covering his throat before the vibrating chirps could get far. So, this was the truth behind the Human’s interest!

“Roman is not a ‘dinosaur’,” he clarified, once he felt composed enough to do so. “In fact, I believe he rarely even eats meat.”

Virgil squinted at him. “Are you sure? Maybe he’s a secret dinosaur.”

Logan wiggled his fingers thoughtfully. “I suppose we’ll just have to check.”

---

“Roman, would you come here for a moment?”  

Roman looked up from his task, immediately suspicious. Logan sounded strangely amused, like he was on the brink of laughing at him. That was never a good sign.

Still, the Human was looking over at him with those wide, strange eyes, and he wasn’t about to run away. He got to his feet, leaving his pile of dana peels behind as he crossed the cave floor. “What is it, dear esteemed companion who would never take advantage of me?”

“I need you to show us your teeth,” Logan said, very much not being a dear esteemed companion who would never take advantage of him. Roman resisted the urge to hang his head in resignation. He should have expected this. The Ulgorii was shameless when it came to exploiting his friends for science.

“How about absolutely not?” he replied, because there were actually limits to his tolerance for shenanigans, and one of those limits was threat-displaying at a baby Human.

“Hold on, look,” Logan said, and then bared his own ridged teeth with a click.

The Human did his small grimace-smile back, entirely unphased. They both looked to him expectantly. Roman felt as though he was being ganged up on.

“Um,” Virgil said, painfully tentative, “please?”  

Roman felt extremely ganged up on.

He squatted, tail keeping him perfectly balanced, and pulled at the corner of his mouth to show some of his teeth.

“Woah,” Virgil breathed.

“See how the back teeth are narrow but dull? They’re designed to crack bones and get to the marrow at the center,” Logan narrated, like the nerd he was. “Roman doesn’t have the small incisors or sharp molars required for proper full-time carnivores.”

Roman almost reminded his crewmate to use small words, but Virgil seemed to get the idea, leaning uncomfortably close to stare. He then opened his own mouth, like he was planning to take a bite out of something, displaying a shocking number of tiny little bone-teeth crammed inside. Some of them were uncomfortably sharp.

Rather than attack anyone, though, Virgil touched his own teeth, carefully inspecting the shape of them. Roman resisted the urge to get him to sanitize his hands. Kits would be kits, he supposed.

Logan was patiently watching as Virgil pointed to each tooth in turn, and he obligingly recited the name of each type of tooth for the kit. His two lower arms took frantic notes on Human jaw structure, probably to prepare more elaborate meal plans better suited to a deathworlder diet. The kid soaked every bit of information in like a sponge.

Finally, after a long moment of thought, he announced, “My ‘lower canine’ is going to fall out in close time!”

“Soon,” Logan offered, always quick to interpret the Human’s occasional nonsense Common. “'My lower canine is going to fall out soon.'” And then, after a moment’s pause. “Wait, it’s going to what?”

And then, because Roman’s day needed more nightmare fuel, the kit bared his tiny fangs at them and poked one with his tongue, revealing that it did indeed seem to be sickeningly loose. In fact, Roman could see a few other gaps in the curved row of teeth, some with little bits of bone peeking out.

“Stars above,” Roman said, feeling a little faint. Logan was already interrogating a very confused Virgil on whether or not losing teeth was indicative of an illness or not.

“They’re just my little teeth,” Virgil told them, seemingly unconcerned with holes in his mouth. “I get big ones later.”

“There are plenty of species that have milk teeth, but to have their adult set not fully-formed by the time the milk teeth are ready to fall out…,” Logan quickly devolved into muttering, hands flicking.

“Doesn’t that hurt?” Roman asked despite himself, eyeing the kit just in case he was going to burst into tears all of the sudden. Roman himself had lost one or two front teeth before his next set had fully formed, and each time it had felt like biting on hot metal.

“Nuh-uh.” Virgil seemed to have moved from confused to amused, still not entirely sure what the fuss was all about. “Not unless I,” he mimed pulling on the tooth, and Roman made a click-click-click of parental don’t-do-that chiding before he’d even fully registered the alarm he’d felt at the motion.

Virgil clicked back at him curiously, sounding exactly like a tiny version of an exasperated parent. Roman tucked his face against his shoulder, unsure if he should laugh or despair.

This Human was really going to be the death of him.

[crack-whore-who-fuckedup-already]

Catchin’ The Vibe

Pairing: Loki x reader

Word Count: 2,543

Warnings: drug use (devils lettuce folks), wee bit of angst, fluff if you squint, awkwardness if that counts lol, older GenZ!reader

A/N: Ahhhh! This is my first time posting something I’ve written! I hope you all enjoy!

 Classes that day were less than pleasant. The reminder of 4 major exams coming up did nothing to soothe (Y/s) constant stress and anxiety and she couldn't help but rush out of her final class, ready to finally relax.

          The brisk walk home got her thinking and she quickly pulled out her phone and sent a text to her roommate, Cassie. The girl was well aware of Cassie's habits of bringing friends over unexpectedly. She'd learned to text ahead so that she could change her course of direction before it was too late and Cassie made her begrudgingly agree to stay with them. For as much as their external personalities clashed, she really did love Cassie but she also really didn't feel like trying her own patience today. Instead, she prepped for her backup plan.

When the inevitable response came from her roommate, she sighed and set a course for Avengers Tower. Even if a group of super heroes lived there, the tower was big enough to grant her space from them.

Walking in the front door, she flashed the card that her aunt Pepper gifted her upon her arrival to the big city to the security guard. If you need anything, Pepper had said, pressing the card into the girls palm, just come find me. She absolutely adored her aunt Pepper and although she didn't particularly need anything from her aunt in person, she was ever grateful for the unlimited access to the tower.

The girl was pleased to find that the residence atop the tower was seemingly empty. Out on a mission, she presumed. Thank God.

  She wasted no time plopping herself down on the couch and reached deep into her backpack, searching for the little ziplock bag. The perfect little cookie she had placed in there earlier that morning had crumbled to bits and she made a sound of disappointment. She opened it and poured a handful of crumbs, careful not to spill any on the couch. Only after carefully putting the rest away, she finally let herself fall back against the sofa and unwind.

When the girl found her eyes sore and red, and her mouth dry as the desert, she knew her high had hit. The previous anxious pounding in her heart and head was replaced with a subtle, pleasant throbbing throughout her body. Finally, she felt like she could take a deep breath. Reveling in the feeling, she closed her eyes and thought back on the day. 

Unbeknownst to her, Loki stood in the doorway of the living room, watching her intently. His fingers softly tapped on the hardcover of his book, debating whether or not he should go back to his room. He could sense that there was something different about her today. Something off. Now that Loki thought about it, the girl's energy always seemed a little ‘off’ compared to the other mortals on Midgard, but never this heavy before. It made him shift in discomfort.

Before he could turn and sneak away, her soft yet dry-red eyes peered over the couch and caught his own deep green ones. He was caught.

“Hello,” she said kindly. "You can join me, if you'd like." Loki's presence was one she always welcomed. She smiled softly and gestured to the sofa across from her. Loki hesitated for just a second but then slowly took a seat. She sat up to address him better and continued.  “I wasn't expecting anyone to be here. I thought everyone was out on a mission.” 

Only a couple feet from her now, the god could clearly see the red in her eyes and her exhaustion radiated off of her. His curiosity got the better of him and the question shot out of his mouth, quiet but clear. “Is something wrong?”

The girl froze suddenly. Her thoughts fluttered excuse from excuse. But she stopped, suddenly. She wondered with a bit of mischief -and defiance, probably-, what if she just told the truth. She realized quickly that Loki would probably be the last person to rat her out, quite honestly. Besides, something told her that Loki'd had his fair share of, well, exotic herbal substances, for lack of better term. Forgetting herself, she laughed a little at the thought.

Thinking he'd said something foolish, it took everything in Loki not to stride out of the room then and there. Irritation and perhaps embarrassment bloomed deep in his chest. Instead he let out a little huff which luckily got her attention. 

“Im sorry, but no. Why do you ask?” Her voice lilted up in a teasing manner. She had a small smirk on her face as she took a sip from the water bottle in her bag. 

Loki knew that look all too well. It was the same one he got on his face when he was up to no good. Suddenly intrigued, he narrowed his eyes at her and slipped on his shit-eating grin.

“Your eyes are red. And your presence feels more... tense than usual.”

She leaned forward and swallowed quickly. “What, you mean like my energy?”

Loki paused pensively then nodded.

She snickered and thought about that particularly interesting tid-bit of information. The scientific and spiritual knowledge on Asgard is far different and more advanced than anything on earth, she knew.

Minutes passed and the girl found her thoughts wondering, as well as her eyes. At some point, they landed on Loki reading his book and suddenly a light bulb went off in her head. Surprising herself with this idea, she mulled it over in her head. He is literally the most stressed individual I have ever met...and aunt Pepper has to deal with Tony on a daily basis so that's saying something... there's no harm in asking.

"Loki, have you ever heard of weed?" she asked as innocently as she could muster. He looked at her, contemplating. Eventually, he shook his head no. Delight spread across her face before caution took its place and the girl thought of the best way to explain to Loki what exactly the Midgardian herb was.

 "On Earth, there's this plant called marijuana." A look of slight recognition passed over his face. "It's used as a destresser, antidepressant, muscle relaxer…” She paused pensively. “Some use it for spiritual purposes. It's got loads of uses. Not to mention it gets you nice and toasty." 

With the Avengers away, his normally stiff and stoic facade was softer, allowing the girl to just barely make out the contemplative faces he was making. She had also noticed his brief look of uncertainty at her use of the term 'toasty'.

"So this is Midgards form of the Gift," he concluded.

"If that's what you guys call drugs on Asgard then, yeah. Sure." She let out a little laugh and looked at him intently.

After a second of thinking, he finally looked at her again, mischief seeping into his words and face. "And why might you be telling me this, dearest?" 

Leaning back with a grin, she fished the baggie from her backpack once more. The loose crumbs looked less than impressive to the god but the girl didn't seem to care. She gave Loki a look to rival his own and for a second, it actually made him falter. 

The amount left in the bag was just the amount she felt comfortable giving him so she handed him the plastic baggie. When he didn't take it right away, she pulled back. 

"You don't have to if you don't want to." The gentleness in her voice caught him off guard and reassured him that it was his choice. He had no doubt after that, he wanted to do this. 

For as much as he didn't trust Midgard or their people, Loki was quite comfortable around her. The child of the group and yet she seemed to be the only tolerable one. Her normally quiet disposition drew him in and her ability to launch passionately into one of her stories only made him enjoy her company more. It reminded him of his mother.

Shoving those thoughts aside, he did his best to pour the cookie crumbs into his mouth then set the baggie on the coffee table. Leaning back, they both fell into comfortable silence and waited.

---------------------------

She was in the kitchen when out of the corner of her eye, she saw Loki slowly close his book. The girl looked up and across the space to the connected living room where he sat and saw him staring blankly at a spot in front of him. Finally, he let out a small groan and fell backwards. It had finally hit.

"Loki?" 

His hand twitched in her direction and she knew he wasn't doing well. Quickly filling a glass of water, she was at his side in a second. His head was all the way back, looking at the ceiling and his eyes were wide, pupils blown. His breathing was labored and his hands were shaking. 

"Hey, ok," she said, sitting gently next to him. She placed her hand on his arm but he flinched away. Paying it no mind, she spoke gently. "Don't fight it, Loki. Just relax and breathe." 

Loki tried his best to relax, truly. But there was this relentless twitching all throughout his body and his senses felt dulled by this incessant tingling. His mind was flitting through thoughts faster than he could grasp. Not having control over his mind and body was completely unexpected. The Gift was nothing like this. 

On Asgard, the Gift clears your mind and energy and makes you feel present and centered. It connects mind and body, bringing them together in harmony. This was the opposite. It was incapacitating his body and his thoughts swirled senselessly in his head.

"May I touch you?" 

He looked at her but the words were lost on him, he couldn't focus. He stared at her until she spoke again.

 "Loki? Is it alright if I touch you?" 

Before she could even finish the question a second time, he was already nodding his head yes. The girl smiled and softly placed her hand on his shoulder for reassurance. She rubbed her thumb gently back and forth and held up the glass of water. 

"Take a sip, it'll help," she urged. Loki mustered enough composure to sit up and take a few sips. When he was done, he rested back against the couch, shutting his eyes tightly.

Putting the glass down, the girl sighed as she looked at his rigid body. Poor thing was torturing himself with how tense he was. "Loki, if you don't relax, you're gonna cause more harm than good. Your muscles are going to snap."

He only shook his head.

Suppressing her own increasingly anxious thoughts, she continued. "Then what can I do to help? Please? I want to help you…" But Loki couldn't bring himself to say anything. Instead he shakily took her hand. Gentle but firm, it was the smallest of acts but she could already feel the difference it made. 

After a few moments, his scrunched up face was finally smoothing into one of ease and his breathing began to level out. The twitching was unavoidable and so was the probability of zoning out a couple times but that was all a part of the experience. After regaining control of his breath, Loki finally seemed to be letting himself unwind.

As his body started to melt into the couch, she gently readjusted herself next to him so that she was more comfortable. Not once did they let go of each other's hand. They sat in silence, enjoying the buzz but also each other's quiet presence.

---------------------

As the night got darker and the high mellowed out, Loki found himself actually enjoying his time. He could still feel the tingling in his body but had decided that he liked it. The girl had managed to pull him out of his trance when she pulled her hand away to put on some slow, quiet music that was pleasant to his currently sensitive ears.

"How are you feeling?" She asked, softly.

Still lounging back against the couch, Loki took a moment to think then nodded his head. A lazy smile spread across his face. "I feel...good." 

"Yeah?" she chuckled.

"Yeah."

They both let out a lazy chuckle and the girl fell back against the couch. "So…" She hesitated and wondered if she should say something so soon but continued anyway. "Are you okay? That was kind of... intense and I just want to make sure you're alright."

Loki took a second to gather his thoughts and cleared his throat. "My mind went places I try very hard to keep hidden. I wasn't prepared, is all."

When he didn't say anything more she decided it was best to leave it there. She watched him lose himself in his thoughts again and immediately scooted closer. Grabbing his hand wholly, she pressed herself into his side lightly as not to startle him and gave him a reassuring laugh. "I've gotcha. You're stuck with me now, buddy."

He just closed his eyes and exhaled heavily, the slightest hint of a smile on his face. But then he remembered why he was in this strange situation in the first place. When he had initially walked into the common room, the girl's abnormally heavy presence had made him want to flee. He wondered for a second if it could have been an effect of the Midgardian drug but if he focused hard enough, he could still sense that same tension deep in her muscles.

"And how about you?" 

She looked at him uncertainly. "What about me?"

"Are you ok?"

She shook her head in confusion as she couldn't understand what he was trying to get at. Loki thought about giving it up but he managed to convince himself otherwise. Pay her the same courtesy she did you, he willed himself.

"When I walked in I noticed a particular...mood settling over the room. It wasn't much like you and I wonder if something upset you," he spoke, afraid he might be over stepping.

Recollection spread across her face and she laughed begrudgingly. Now that she had time to relax and let the day sink in -not to mention the external help of her good friend Mary Jane-, she could separate herself from the anxiety and stress of everyday college life. Four exams were nothing, she concluded. She'd gotten through worse before. She could do this.

"Yeah, I'm good. Just some trivial human stuff. But I'm ok, I promise." 

They looked at each other, both their eyes red and droopy. She had a soft, genuine smile on her face and Loki felt himself relax all over again. As the music met their ears once more, they fell into pleasant silence.

----------------------

When the team got home early the next morning, they were surprised to find the two asleep on the couch. With Loki's head hanging back against the couch and the girl's face smothered into his shoulder, it definitely wasn't the most comfortable condition to sleep in. And yet, these two, in their stubborn chaos, managed to make it work. Deciding not to disturb them, the team just let them be and didn't dare mention a word to them when they woke.

[angellissy]

Chapter one:  Platform Nine and Three-Quarters

A/N: Hi guys, I am so happy that so many are excited for this series. Burning Desires sparked my creativity again and I am so happy for it. Just a side note, I just started working again so my updates might be slow but I promise I will continue this series. i love you all. thanks to all my supportive friends you all know who you are and i adore you guys. but if you don’t know who you are here is a quick shoutout, you all have helped me so much @pogue-writings​ @downbytheouterbanks​ @drewstarkey​ @outrbanks​ @myjjbaby​ @adoreyoudrews​ and so so so many more thank you

Her mother’s smile was big, teeth and all. Her crimson red lipstick made her skin look even paler, there was not a hint of color to be seen on her cheeks. Her mother had spent minutes in front of the mirror, pressing white powder on her cheeks. She believed a fairer look would make her appear younger, in her daughter’s eyes it just made her look terrifying. But that was also the reason behind her smile, it had to be big in order to cover all the lies that lied beneath the facade.

“Don’t feel pressured to start crying too, I doubt anyone is looking.” With her black hair, rosy cheeks, and bright green eyes, Ophelia Lancaster was nothing like her mother. Except for the fact that they both shared the same cold and icy tone while talking to each other. Her mother scoffed at Ophelia, but still, let her eyes flicker between the masses of people crowding the platform. Mrs. Seraphine Lancaster thrived of attention, therefore it suited her that the Lancaster family was one of the most well known in the wizarding world. 

“Come on now girls, no fighting.” Like every other time, her father tried to calm them, his soothing voice, and the way he placed one of his hands on either of their shoulders, was his way of creating peace. Though it only worked sometimes, and that was usually in situations like this, when there were people everywhere. 

“Is that the Cameron’s I see?” Her mother asked, slightly squinting her dark eyes. Her father followed her lead and adjusted his glasses to try and get a better look. “My dear, I believe it is.” Her mother clasped her hands together in delight, her heels made the most awful sound against the hard concrete as she started walking towards them. Her husband soon followed her lead, but stopped and turned around when he noticed that his daughter was not going with them.

“Uh yeah, I think I am gonna skip saying hi to them this time, I have to get a good seat.” Ophelia gave him the sweetest smile she could muster, her father looked between her and his wife. It was obvious that he was debating what he should say, he would either get the wrath from his wife or the disappointed looks from his only child. 

“Oh okay then, have fun darling. Do not forget to write to us!” Ophelia rolled her eyes at that, during her five years at Hogwarts she had not forgotten to write even once. Every Sunday she would sit down in her bed, feather quill in one hand and a paper in the other. She would retell her whole week, leaving out minor details of course. She was not about to tell her parents about the parties she had been too or the dates she had gone on, some things could be left out with a guilt-free consciousness. 

“I won’t, tell mom I said goodbye.” Her father opened his mouth to say something but when he did Ophelia was already gone, trudging through the masses of wizards and witches to try and finally get on the train. She passed countless students, some she recognized more than others.

“John B I don’t want to carry your-” The boy in front of her paused, looked at the owl in the cage he was holding with two fingers. And Ophelia could not really see, but from the way his body shivered, she assumed he was making a disgusted face. 

“It’s a bird JJ, thank you very much.” The other boy snatched the cage from the boy standing in Ophelia’s way, muttering something about how this JJ always had to be so dramatic. 

Ophelia pushed past them too, she just wanted to get on the train and find a good seat before all of them were taken by some snotty first years. But unfortunately for her, most of the good compartments were already filled by something worse, third-year students. They had gone past the phase of being terrified by the elder students, and they had also started to get to know how things worked at Hogwarts. So naturally, they had decided that they were superior. This was not true, they were just cocky because they were gonna start reading Defence Against the Dark Arts. As she watched them chatter and whisper through the glass, a small sigh escaped her lips. The third-year at Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry had been Ophelia’s best, she had aced all her classes and done that with friends by her side. But they had soon wandered a path she did not want to be a part of, therefore she now found herself sitting alone in an empty compartment that smelt like old feet. She did not necessarily miss her old friends, especially not when she saw what they were up to in the common room or how they jinxed people in the halls. No, Ophelia simply missed the laughs they had shared, the ones that make you clutch your stomach and gasp for air. She missed how they used to sneak out after curfew to discover more of Hogwarts, she sometimes found herself missing how Rafe Cameron had grasped her hand when they had been walking through a really badly lit corridor. But whenever those thoughts and memories resurfaced, she quickly did everything in her power to push them away. 

With delicate fingers, she opened the leather bag that had been gifted to her from her late grandmother. It was one of her most prized possessions, her grandmother had been the only person in the Lancaster family that ever seemed to actually see Ophelia. And with her gone, Ophelia could only trace the embroidery on the bag and long for the day someone would once again, see her. She pulled out Voyages with Vampires by Gilderoy Lockhart from the bag, the man himself might have been a bit of a fool but his books were still entertaining. Therefore a content sigh left her lips as she turned over the first page, but before she could even read the first sentence, loud voices interrupted her. 

“There is not one seat left, that’s what we get for JJ trying to flirt with some girl.” You recognized the voice, but without a face, it was difficult to figure out who it belonged too. But you had heard that name before, on the platform, and said boy also received complaints at that time. 

“So what? I am just trying to have some fun.” This sentence resulted in a bunch of protests from whoever was standing outside the door, saying that girls were not just there for some “fun” as he had put it. Ophelia continued to watch the door, curious to see what faces would appear in the glass window. She was a bit taken aback when she locked eye contact with Sarah Cameron, not expecting her to be among those loud voices. Sarah quickly lit up, and a bright smile spread on her lips as she slid the door open.

“Ophelia, would you mind if we all sat here?” The blonde girl that Ophelia used to share all her secrets with when she was younger, gestured to the abundance of new yet familiar faces that stood behind her. She recognized the girl with curly brown hair, she was the Hufflepuff girl that put up posters and loudly argued for house-elves freedom. Next to her stood her trusty companion, the dark-skinned Ravenclaw whose hand was always reaching towards the ceiling when questions were asked during class. 

Sarah grabbed one of the two lighter haired boys by the hand and dragged him towards a seat. “This is John B, you know the guy I always used to have a crush on in the first year?” Ophelia did know, Sarah used to gush about the boy with the long hair and freckled skin every time they saw each other. A lot had happened since, but apparently they had managed to find their way to each other. 

“Yeah, I remember.” She answered, a little unsure of what to say, because what do you say to someone that you have not spoken to in ages? The sofa she was sitting on rocked a tiny bit when the other blonde-haired boy threw himself down next to her. His red-tinted robes were a bit messy like he had just thrown them on in a hurry, not at all caring that his tie was all crooked.

“Sarah, you gonna introduce me to this beautiful girl or what?” He flashed Ophelia a cheeky grin while she just rolled her eyes. “Aren’t you supposed to be a Gryffindor?” She asked while tilting her head to look at him.

“Yeah, why?” A small smile spread on her lips as she watched him furrow his brows in confusion. “Well, I thought they were supposed to be brave, and you are asking your friend to introduce us.” His friends snickered at that, watching and waiting for what he would answer. But he just looked at her, and then he leaned closer to her ear and whispered his name, JJ of course, he was the only one left. His voice was warm and it made her skin tingle, so naturally, she placed a hand on his shoulder and pushed him back.

“Was that brave enough for you, Ophelia Lancaster?” He made sure to emphasize every syllable in her name, proving that he had not needed an introduction after all. Once again she rolled her eyes at him and leaned back into the seat, this was definitely going to be a long ride. 

[mrsgaryrennell]

hiii! 6, 8, 15, 18, 23, 25, 26, and 28 for both chloe and dicky! (sorry if these are too many lol) 💕

Oohh hii sis 💛💛💛miss you a bunch but thanks for asking 👀which btw don’t worry about putting to many lmao 🤡 

Just beware of my lengthy essay 💀 alright so Dicky and Chloe

6. What were they like at school? Did they enjoy it? Did they finish? What level of higher education did they reach? What subjects did they enjoy? Which did they hate?

Dicky: This man was a problem as a child lol And no nothing tragic about his backstory, he’s just a chaotic mess 😂He was never a bully or anything, it’s just that he was really intimidating and really mean if ever approached lol but if he liked you enough, he’ll definitely be a chill guy to hang around with haha he’s not antisocial either. He hated school lol Dicky just never paid much attention and there were even times when he would skip class because he simply wasn’t interested 💀So you could say that he didn’t like the majority of the school material. Nonetheless, he did finish secondary school lol

Now, there were a few subjects he did enjoy or in his language were “alright” lol He didn’t mind staying for math class since it’s something he picked up pretty easily on lol I can see the teacher all 😯the first time because they didn’t expect Dicky to be so amazing at it and he’s very nonchalant about it, too lol I feel like math is something he’s naturally really skilled with but he doesn’t really see that in him haha And another school activity he enjoyed was a debate class lol he didn’t like learning laws and all but he really liked sitting across from someone and winning the debate every time 😂 mechanic boi has great argumentative skills 😌 

Chloe: She was a very bright child in school. People were always impressed because of her talent and wit. And kids loved partnering up with her for school projects because she was great at leading the team to create great outcomes. Although, I can’t say that she was too popular in school nor did she make too many friends because they just thought she was a little weird for their taste lol Chloe tells herself that she didn’t mind being alone since she likes her alone time but she’s always been self conscious of being the oddball of the group 😭

While in primary and secondary school, she didn’t mind any of the classes like science, math, literature, etc. She did find charm in each subject but her most favorite subject in school was and still is history lol She’s fascinated by historical figures that committed stupid decisions 😂and she actually enjoys to sit down and watch history documentaries of anything really. Other than history, cello girl also found her love for music and performing arts 💛Music has always been kind of like her escape to peace 

Lastly, she did go to uni and attended Juilliard School in New York for her musical career 🎶 Chloe has always enjoyed music and arts ever since she was a child so expanding her knowledge in this and making it into her professional career has become a huge highlight to her life 😌Of course, she came as one of the top of her class for her creativity, talent, and uniqueness!

8. Did they have pets as a child? Do they have pets as an adult? Do they like animals?

Dicky: So he didn’t have any pets while growing up nor does he have any right now. Jason doesn’t mind animals but they seem to not like him lmao So he rather stay away from nature 😂 

Chloe: She didn’t have any pets when growing up either! She honestly had a lot going on during her childhood and asking for a pet was probably the least thing in her mind. And this could be a little be spoilery lol but it’s okay! Chloe does currently have a beautiful little boy named Frédéric, or Fred for short lol but named him after one of her favorite composers Frédéric Chopin!

15. Are they good at cooking? Do they enjoy it? What do others think of their cooking?

Dicky: We all know how much this grumpy man loves his food lol so he does know how to cook! I want to think that he does enjoy cooking since he knows he’s about to devour all of that within seconds lmao so he likes the anticipation. At this point in the story, I’m not sure anyone has tried Dicky’s cooking actually 🤔I guess we’ll see what others think of Dicky’s food later in the chapters 👀

Chloe: She is great at cooking, she loves it! She views it like a form of art so there’s a lot to appreciate for the uniformed ingredients for her 😌In fact, Chloe loves to cook in her spare time and learn more about it from other cultures. Cello girl also has a fascination for food so all the love and care she puts into the meal, it really comes from the heart 💛 So far, the people that she’s fed in the Villa has been the Chatham boys, Gary and Dicky, and they definitely approve of it haha 

18. What’s their favourite genre of: books, music, tv shows, films, video games and anything else?

Dicky: I don’t think he really reads lol but he loves going over magazines with old fashioned and retro vehicles. He likes to learn about the evolution of cars, that nerd 😂With music, I think he has a liking for alternative rock, mellow rock, maybe a little of metal lol Although, Dicky did listen to some cringey emo music when a teenager but he doesn’t like to talk about that lmao He’s not into any TV shows but likes to watch Fast & Furious movies to trash on it but lowkey likes admiring the sports cars lmao And lastly on video games, he like horror types 💀He has a collection of horror video games and likes to sit down in the dark and play them lol

Chloe: Well, Chloe likes her history lol so she will gladly sit down to read about WWII or something like that 😂 And aw man lol music! This girl appreciates all types of music, but good music. Even though she’s really elegant and a classical musician (which still adores the classics ofc), she really appreciates the modern music like pop, hip hop, indie music, rock, you name it! So Chloe listens to anything and everything and her I’m sure her spotify is random af haha She’s not really into TV shows either but as far as films, she’s a huge nerd: Star Wars! She first fell in love with John Williams’ movie scores and came across the Star Wars one and was infatuated 😌She found out about the trilogy when she was a little older and loves to marathon the movies 💛And no video games lol she’s not really into that haha 

23. Do they have a good memory? Short term or long term? Are they good with names? Or faces?

Dicky: This guy will only have a good memory if he cares lol So if he has any interest in anyone, he will remember names and faces but if he doesn’t care, then you’re out of luck 💀 you’ll be pretty forgettable to Jason lmao Overall, I think he does have a great memory if it’s regarding his job ofc and with the people he cares about and that’s about it haha 

Chloe: She has a great memory! Because of her career and learning all those musical sheets by heart, Chloe gained a photographic memory 😌It will only take a couple of chats with someone for her thoroughly remember your name and face. 

25. What do they find funny? Do they have a good sense of humour? Are they funny themselves?

Dicky: He has dark humor okay 💀he enjoys to mess with people for his own amusement. And he because dark humor is part of his personality, Jason doesn’t realize that he will say something dark and it’ll seem like a joke so people find it funny lol Overall, he is a funny guy but his humor isn’t for everyone 😂

Chloe: Cello girl is a sucker for bad puns lol And when anyone delivers a bad pun and no one laughs, that’s what she finds funniest lmao Her humor is the dry type, very “The Office” type lol I don’t think she’s aware of the US show but when she finds out, it will become one of her favorites lmao Chloe is also unintentionally funny, too. She’ll say or do something weird or random and it’s very humorous for others 

26. How do they act when they’re happy? Do they sing? Dance? Hum? Or do they hide their emotions?

Dicky: Oooh Dicky, Dicky, Dicky lol this man always has a poker face hah But, you can still determine what his gestures are when he’s happy 😌Dicky may not be a very expressive man but he has a lot of micro expressions and mannerism. It’s really hard to spot it but if you’re an observant person, you’ll be able to determine when mechanic boi is in a good mood! Dicky’s eyes are a major give away lol his eyes will have a little bit of a shine and the outer corner of his eyes will squint a bit. Because he doesn’t wanna show too much of his smile, if he catches himself cracking a smile, he’ll run his hand down his face lmao that dork 💛

Chloe: The humming! She will instinctively start humming a song whenever she’s in a good mood. Like Dicky, Chloe has expressive eyes. She may not say she’s in a happy mood but just looking into her eyes, you’ll be able to tell that there’s something different to the shade and brightness. She doesn’t necessarily hide her emotions when she’s happy since she already has a calm and composed nature but her tone of voice is more friendlier than usual if she’s in a great mood, too. Another way to determine if she’s in a good mood is hearing her giggle a little more often than usual lol but more sore just little short giggles! 

28. What is their biggest fear? What in general scares them? How do they act when they’re scared?

Dicky: lmaoo Jason would act like he’s a tough guy and say nothing scares him 😂 But he does have his moments where his voice will mildly crack after gasping if there’s ever a jumpscare lol 

Getting a little real and serious about fright tho lol Dicky is afraid of failing able to protect the people he loves. That’s why Dicky is so protective of Gary since he knows Gary has body issues so he tries his best to be as supportive as he can for his friend. Another thing Dicky is scared of is losing a near and dear friendship. Again, he’s not one to make a lot of close friends, so if he ever screwed up and notices that they’re getting distant, this is something Dicky gets anxious about. 

Chloe: She isn’t that type of girl that gets all scared of anything or everything lol she actually finds those type of girls a little annoying 💀She does have a fear for the ocean lol Chloe loves going to the beach, soaking in the sun and even taking a little bit of a swim but the thought of sailing scares her lol A way someone could tell that she’s scared is if her hands unevenly tremble and this is also a mannerism she has if she’s worried about something, too.

Now, a more serious fear she also has is trusting the wrong person. Chloe is a loyal person and can be devoted to them but if she’s always afraid of investing all of her energy into someone that doesn’t reciprocate the same devotion. This is why it’s really hard for her to let anyone in so easily and though she’s still a super friendly and polite girl, it’ll take a lot for someone to make her open up about her life, dreams, aspirations, etc. 

Damn that was long and I apologize girl 🤡 but I hope you enjoyed it 💛 appreciate you asking about these dorks haha and if anyone is still interested in asking, here’s the link to the questions. I got another one to answer and I hope I get to it either tonight or tomorrow!

[mimiswitchywrites]

Not A Burden: Chapter 4

TW: SH references, attempted s****de and references, child/s***al a**se references (not graphic but enough that could be triggering)

Masterlist or Read on AO3

2.3k words

---------

Gaius watched as the young girl shuffled in her sleep. She had tears trailing down her cheeks and was sweating profusely. He soaked the cloth again, pressing it against her head, cheeks and chest, and prayed to whatever was out there that the poor girl would be okay. He was well versed in the world of nightmares – his years caring for Morgana has assured that – but rarely had he seen someone with ones such as this.

The only time, he thought, was Charlie. He had returned from enemy territory a changed man. He could hardly keep his eyes closed longer than a minute before seeing the atrocities he had faces in their dungeons. The poor man ended up with a case of hysteria and walked off one day with only the clothes on his back, and never returned. Now, with more knowledge, Gaius hoped he could treat her before she ended that way.

Her right arm was healing nicely – scabbing over – but her left was in far from ideal condition. Arthur had reported that she had hit it on his chest plate at some point, and others had mentioned her picking at the wraps which seemed to amount to a slight infection. She had lost too much blood before being able to rest properly and the fact that she hadn’t collapsed into a sweating mess earlier truly impressed the aged physician. She was weak, both mentally and physically, and there was little he could do.

He dabbed her skin with the cloth again.

--

The candles in the tavern were burning low and with it came Gwaine’s high. He had drowned himself in ale, mead, cider and wine as soon as he had returned home (whether home was Camelot or The Rising Sun was still up for debate) and, even after two days, he showed no sign of stopping. At first, the other knights – both those of the Round Table and not – had joined him. Many a game of dice and cards were played, but eventually they left.

They always will. Another gulp of whatever was in his tankard, he’d lost track.

He traced the patterns on the table with his finger (fingers? He couldn’t tell how many were really there anymore) and felt his eyes growing heavy. He found a face in the wood, with thin lips and an angular jaw – it reminded him of his first infatuation. His first rejection. A final gulp.

His forehead found the table and snores soon followed.

--

Arthur sat at his desk, holding a blank piece of parchment and his favourite quill – the one Merlin had given him. He was trying to write a speech for an upcoming council meeting but all he could think about was his manservant. The, usually joyous, man had been distracted since they had arrived back, and he was unsure what to do about this. If Merlin were a knight, he would propose a fight or Torny or hunting trip (maybe not, that could be in bad taste even if he were a knight) but Merlin was not. Merlin was a country boy that practically cried at the thought of killing a fly, let alone fighting a full human with swords and armour. The king was stumped.

He wanted Merlin to smile again. They had barely performed their usual banter, all attempts by Arthur had fallen flat. He had even called Arthur ‘sire’ but it had none of it’s usual sarcasm, it seemed genuine which left an odd taste in Arthurs mouth. No, it would not do.

He slammed the parchment down, placing the quill next to it gently, and dropped his head in his hand. A frustrated groan escaped his lips.

A knock on the door interrupted his spiralling.

“Enter.”

Merlin stumbled in, basket in his arms. Merlin never knocks. The king squinted, discomfort over the situation growing. Giving up, he finally asked the question that had been plaguing him for days: “what’s wrong with you?”

Merlin’s head shot up from where it was rummaging through the pile of dirty clothes. He turned to face Arthur; confusion painted over his features. His eyebrows were pulled in, emphasising those lines in the middle of his forehead. His lips fell open and Arthur forced himself not to focus on them, and what they could do or where he wanted them to be.

“What?” As if Arthur ever had a reason to think Merlin was being formal with him.

“You’ve resembled the back end of a cat for days now. I don’t like it,” upon noticing Merlin smile as if about to make a remark about how the king cared or some other equally girly falsehood, he added, “it’s been affecting your work ethic. Be normal again.” He nodded, there, fixed it.

Merlin’s smile grew and Arthur’s heart began to swell. “If I didn’t know any better sire, I’d say you were worried about me.” Not quite fixed it would seem.

“Yes, well, good thing you’re an idiot then, eh?”

Merlin opened his mouth again and so Arthur gripped the cup next to him, prompting the boy to run out the room with his basket. A smile wormed its way onto Arthur’s face. He was glad to have his Merlin back, even if just for a moment.

--

Sir Leon prided himself on being King Arthurs longest standing and most loyal knight. He liked to think he knew the man like a true brother and so he also liked to think he knew when his brother was not acting normally. Hearing that he had shouted at a young, injured girl was a clear sign that he was not acting normally. He had wanted to talk to the girl first but, after bumping into Merlin (the poor boy and his basket almost went flying) and finding out that she wasn’t able to have visitors yet, he decided that he should get answers out of Arthur first.

Something Leon discovered early on about Arthur: he does not appreciate being told that he was wrong. While he has a huge heart and wishes the best for all in his kingdom, knowing he has done someone wrong leads him down a sad pit for days and so he tends to reject the notion. Being the one to tell him of his misdoings is not an enjoyable task.

Leon steeled himself as he stood outside the large oak doors. The guards – Thomas and Shaun – nodded at him respectfully before moving out the way for him. He knocked on the door: two quick raps, a single, and then another two. He heard the muffled “come in” from inside and obeyed, taking a final deep breath before doing so.

Arthur was sat, face in his hands with that smile that Leon had begun associating with a recent visit from a certain raven-haired servant. He had a light blush coating his cheeks and a star struck look in his eyes. Leon cleared his throat, bringing Arthur back to reality.

Reality didn’t have anywhere near enough Merlin in it.

“Sir Leon,” he coughed, voice dropping to his usual octave, “what can I do for you?” He gestured to a chair next to the fire and moved from the desk taking the other one for himself. Leon, after thinking about it for a second, sat. He tried to keep his feet still as he mulled over the best way to broach the subject of his visit.

“Well, and I mean no offence over this, I have no desire to attack you Sire—”

“You’re bumbling almost as much as Merlin, Leon. Come out with it, it’s alright.”

The knight cleared his throat, chuckling a little at Arthurs comment. “Right, well, I wanted to ask you about the girl.”

“Miriam.”

“Miriam, yes. I have heard confusing reports of something you said to her.” He watched Arthur’s face. His nostrils were flaring and there was a slight tic near his right eyebrow that Leon had learnt over the years meant frustration. “And” he continued, slightly quieter this time, “I was hoping you could shed some light on the situation?”

Arthur stood up, retrieving a goblet and the pitcher of wine that Merlin had left on his table that morning. He filled the cup, downed it, and filled it again, making his way back to his seat.

“What would you like to know?” He refused to make eye contact, staring into the dying flames instead. He must get Merlin to tend to the fire whenever he returns.

“What happened? I struggle to believe that you intended to hurt or scare her.”

Arthur let out a breathy laugh, smile not reaching his eyes. “I’m glad you have such faith in me, Leon.” He finally looked up at him, noticing how anxious the man was to be asking such questions of his friend. “You are right, I meant no harm to her, but harm is what I brought regardless.” He frowned, taking a large swig of his wine. “She got up in the middle of the night and disappeared into the wood. I couldn’t hear or see her, and it concerned me. I couldn’t take the idea that we had found yet another person wanting to harm those I… care for.” He tipped back the last of his drink, Gwaine would be proud. “Turned out she had just gone to relieve herself and, as she turned back to camp, we bumped into each other. She hit her arm on my armour and I said somethings that maybe I shouldn’t have.”

“It was all an accident then?” Arthur nodded, eyes on the embers again. “So why has the story been twisted so?”

“I may have argued with Lancelot about the situation and made it worse for myself.”

Leon bit his tongue, wanting to suggest the King apologise but knowing it would be far from a wise idea. “I understand, Sire. Have you visited her since?” he asked, knowing the answer was no. As expected, the king shook his head, inhaling deeply. “Perhaps you could arrange a time to see her with Merlin?”

“Perhaps.”

The conversation clearly over, Leon left, leaving his friend to brood over the situation. He took no joy in questioning Arthur or pushing him so, but it was important to do every so often.

--

Gwen peeled the carrots as Elyan brought the water to a boil, adding twigs to the fire occasionally. They had spent the last year getting into a stable routine together having not lived in the same home since they were teens. It was often silent in the hut, both consumed by their thoughts of work and their friends, but when they talked, gods did they talk. It was as if Elyan never left, conversation flowing all night long. They would laugh, joke, hug, cry on occasion, and they would be siblings again.

Now though, with carrots being cut up small, Gwen was in her head.

She had been tending to Miri as she slept when she had no other duties to take care of. Since Morganas disappearance, she didn’t often have other duties. The woman, likely around Gwen’s age, fascinated her. She looked a lot like Morgana did, maybe that was what drew her in. The way her black hair framed her face and her eyebrows furrowed in her sleep. The light brown spots that marked her cheeks were like none she had ever seen before. She wanted nothing more than to talk with her and find out what led her to the forest all those days ago. Gwen found her heart aching thinking of how lonely one must feel to do something like that.

Elyan took the chopping board from in front of his sister and emptied the carrots into the pot above the flames. He watched her as she stared at nothing, face scrunched in worry. She had been like this since meeting the girl and it concerned him. He put his hand on her shoulder, pulling her back. She placed her hand on his, smiled, and returned to preparing the dinner.

That night, as she lay in the rickety bed at the back of their house, she thought about Miri once more. She didn’t understand the feelings swelling in her chest – they were different from the ones she felt with Lancelot all those years ago, but she couldn’t figure out how. She turned onto her side, huffing out a frustrated breath. Morgana would understand, she always did, even when she didn’t.

The day Morgana ran away left a hole in Camelot’s heart. In Gwen’s heart. She had thought her Lady, her friend, could trust her but as she read the note that was left on the hut table, she realised just how wrong she was. She knew Morgana had been struggling with her dreams, with her magic (something that Gwen still hadn’t told anyone about) but she thought that, with Gwen by her side, she would be able to get through it. That they would get through it, together.

A lump grew in her throat and tears pricked at her eyes. She was so tired of crying over what could never be.

And seeing Merlin and Arthur as they were, knowing that, now Arthur was king, they could finally be something more than longing glances, it broke her.

She sat up, pulling her knees into her chest as the water trailed down her cheeks. She was so happy for her friends; for the love that was blooming, but sometimes she hated what they represented. They were everything she could never have. The way they would curl up close on cold nights away from home, the way Merlin would rest a hand on Arthur’s shoulder as he read whatever he was working on, the way Arthur made sure Merlin had a seat right next to him in council meetings. Although she knew they hadn’t talked about it properly, she knew they would end up married in all but title one day and even that could happen if Arthur was brave enough to fight the lords on the matter.

Her chest tightened and she could swear she felt her heart breaking all over again.

[nymphigeon]

Roses Have Thorns

♡ Pairing; Jungkook x Reader

♡ Genre; Angst, Fluff, Fantasy!AU, Supernatural!AU, S2L, Student!Jungkook, Wizard!Jungkook, Angel!Reader, Demon!Reader, Student!Reader

♡ Warnings (for this chapter); Swearing, mentions of stabbing, an attack

♡ Rating; NC-17

♡ Words; 2893

♡ Summary; A girl forced to live in fear because of her own power. Even though she isn’t supposed to exist, she wants to live. She’ll just make sure that she breaks herself over and over until there is nothing left of her. He, of course, won’t let her.

Series masterlist

 Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three

Chapter Two

“Haeun? Is this yours?” You ask as you walk into your mansion’s private library. In the middle of the library stands a long table with chairs all round. Only one of the chairs is taken. “I found this glass looking thing in my room, but I can’t remember having anything like it.” You open the palm of your hand to show the item mentioned.

Haeun doesn’t look up from her book, but somehow still knows what you’re talking about. “It’s a regeneration crystal. As long as you keep it on you the crystal will heal all wounds until it’s drained of power. After that you can keep it as a pretty rock or throw it out if you wish. A gift from one of mother’s clients. We all have one.”

Despite spending her time reading a book, she couldn’t have looked more bored. You can’t read the title on the cover with the way she’s holding it, but if you had to guess it’s probably something college related.

“Why would they gift regeneration crystals? They’re crazy expensive and it’s not like one of us gets stabbed every day.” You look at the tiny crystal in your hand with a puzzled look. For the longest time these crystals were thought to be a myth. Something someone thought of while writing their newest fantasy thriller.

Everyone claiming they had one got called crazy and eventually, nobody spoke of them anymore. Too scared to be criticized by a large number of people, these owners of the regeneration crystals got silenced.

It wasn’t until a group of researches accidentally stumbled upon a small warehouse filled with the crystals that the supposed myth was proven to be reality. A few powerful witches had been creating them, hoping to be able to distribute them among those joining the military.

Back then the crystals weren’t nearly as powerful or small as they are now, but as a myth proven true all the tabloids were filled with the news. Obviously the researches saw money in the crystals, and instead of giving them to those that needed them for free like the witches wanted, they sold them off to those with power.

Needles to say the creators were angry and stopped producing them. Some say they still created the crystals in secret, giving them off to the ones they trusted as soon as they were done so nobody could selfishly steal them, though this was never confirmed.

It wasn’t until a few years later that researches found another type of witches who were able to make them. These individuals had a completely different mindset compared to the original inventors, and decided to team up with the researchers, creating the crystals to sell them.

Sadly, both types of witches that were able to produce these see-through stones slowly died out, leaving just a handful all over the world. The crystals got rarer by the day, prices skyrocketing. If you’re lucky you’ll meet a nice witch sometime during your life who will create you a free crystal. If not, you must be ready to pay a fortune.

“Should you really be talking though? If anything you need it the most out of us all.” She closes her book after placing a bookmark in between pages. “Nobody is trying to harm me Haeun.”

Your older sister never seemed to particularly like you, and you’ve never been able to find out why. Out of your three siblings, all older than you, she’s the only one who seems to hold a grudge against you. By now it’s almost an everyday occurrence, wondering why she was the only one that had to stay home besides yourself, while the others moved out when they finished high school.

“Because you’ve been protected by a stuck-up entitled brat your whole life.” She glares at you and pushes her chair back to stand up, clearly not wanting to be in the same room as you. “You’re lucky you’re mom’s child. She’s probably the only person who would go through such great lengths to make sure you’re safe.”

Being the youngest child, you’ve always sought for the validation of your older siblings. That worked two times, or more specific, it worked for the two twins in the household. Your 24 year old brother and sister adore you, always calling to make sure everything is okay back home. Haeun though, can’t seem to hold that same energy.

“You truly speak like a fully-fledged demon.” You do not wish to fight with her, still, you also can’t just let her get away with her words. Perhaps this is your own way of trying to show her that she hurt you.

“I’d like to remind you that your own mother and like half of your family tree is full-demon.” She seems to think your distress is amusing, happily replying to your insults. “You’re the only one whose personality matches one as well.”

Somewhere you were hoping she’d comfort you, apologizing for her words. “If I’m so bad then why is nobody hunting me down? Why am I not the one being protected?” You can’t do anything but look at the ground and stand there, not knowing what to say.

Haeun, noticing your lack of answer, walks up to you so she can deliver her following words right in your face. “You know, criminals aren’t supposed to be protected.” Walking past you, she gets to the exit of the room.

“I didn’t do anything.” Once again you’re trying to hold back tears. Why do you have to be such a cry baby? “Keep telling yourself that. Hopefully it’ll come true one day.” Is it her mission to make you feel as miserable as she possibly can?

“Is it so wrong to just want to feel safe?” You whisper, but her sensitive ears still hear you. “In your case, of course it is.” With that she walks out, letting the door fall closed behind her. With her she takes the little confidence you managed to build up for yourself.

The loud thud of something – or rather a bunch of things – falling wakes Jungkook up. Complete silence follows the sound, almost as if it was never even there. The still tired boy groans, rolls over, and gets ready to fall back asleep. It’s Saturday, waking up at any time before 1 pm is way too early according to him.

Just for a second Jungkook debates whether he should go check if everything is okay, but quickly dismisses the thought. Nobody is screaming out it pain, so it should be fine. Except if said person fucked up so bad that whatever fell instantly killed them.

Jungkook sighs and accepts the fact that he might be a teensy bit worried. He yawns, not caring to block his mouth, and sits up in bed. There’s not much his eyes have to adjust to, as the room is still completely dark thanks to his blackout curtains hanging in front of the windows. The curtains were hell for his basically empty bank account back when he bought them, but damn do they do a good job at keeping the light out.

He can’t tell what time it is, but his droopy eyes tell him it’s definitely nowhere near noon yet. Getting out of bed, Jungkook puts some socks on his bare feet. It’s no secret that their laminate flooring is almost always freezing in the mornings. There was even a time when Namjoon was sure some evil spell had been casted on their floor, doing his best to get rid of it. Needless to say, that didn’t go very well. Turns out no evil spell was on the floor, their bitchy apartment just loses heat really fast.

When Jungkook walks out of his room he calls out for the only other person living there. “Namjoon?” He squints at the light coming through the living room windows. Both Namjoon and Jungkook have their own room, so there was no need to get any curtains for the living room. It would just have been a waste of money, although Jungkook is thinking of buying some for his poor eyes.

Nobody answers his call. Did these things just fall on their own then? Jungkook is quite sure he doesn’t live with a pair of ghosts, so he shuffles a bit further into the room and calls out again. “Is everything okay? Where are you?” He raises the volume of his voice a bit, hoping that it will help.

He can’t help but lightly cringe at the way he sounds, having forgotten he only woke up a few minutes ago and his voice is still laced with sleep. “I’m here Jungkook.” This time Namjoon responds to the call from the kitchen.

Jungkook walks over to the kitchen to check on the current situation. “What happened? I heard something falling and-“ Abruptly stopping his speech, Jungkook’s eyes widen as soon as he reaches the doorway.

The kitchen floor is an absolute mess. Food laying everywhere on top of what seems to be a dozen of broken eggs, with Namjoon’s form desperately trying to clean at the side. “Wha- How did you…” It takes him a moment before he can manage to form a proper sentence, not sure if what he’s seeing is real.

“Why is there food all over the floor?!” Jungkook nearly screams in shock. Luckily none of his snacks ended up on the floor, having no need to be refrigerated. They are still safely tucked away somewhere in one of the cupboards.

“I wanted to take something out of the fridge without moving the rest in front of it, but as you see, it kind of failed..” Namjoon looks guilty. Not only did he throw hard earned money on the floor, he also woke his roommate up in the process. Two things he likes to avoid.

Jungkook internally face palms, but doesn’t show it on his face. “This is what you get for being lazy.” Although he probably shouldn’t be saying that, as he is usually the lazy one. Jungkook bends down to get a towel from one of the lower cupboards. Initially he was going straight back to sleep after seeing what happened, but he’d feel bad if he just left Namjoon alone here.

“No worries, I’ll help you.” He smiles at his friend, trying to somehow comfort him. “Thank you.” Namjoon scratches the back of his head out of embarrassment, before audible sighing. “I’ll go get the mop.” He lets Jungkook know before walking out. This was not how Jungkook imagined he would be spending his Saturday morning, but at least nobody got hurt.

“Eleanor.” She didn’t need to turn around to know who was standing behind her. Having heard his voice for years now, the sound is most familiar to her. Comforting, soft, caring.

“It’s getting cold, so I brought you a jacket.” Elenora smiles and takes the jacket her husband offers her. “Thank you.”

The temperature dropping hadn’t been on her mind, too deep in her own thoughts. She’s thankful for the garment, instantly feeling a lot warmer.

“What do you think of the flowers?” Elenora asks Minho right after he sits down next to her. “I planted them before my sister brought the kids over, since Juwon likes them.” A small smile is plastered on her face at the thought of her excited nephew.

“They’re pretty, I like them.” He feels her eyes on him and looks down to meet her gaze. Having been caught, Elenora quickly turns her head in the opposite direction. They have been married for quite a few years, but sometimes she still acts like a high school student having a crush.

“I’m glad.”

Silence follows. Minho wasn’t planning on staying outside with her, but now that he’s here he might as well enjoy the fresh air. Besides, something feels off, a pull keeping him next to her.

“Am I a bad person?” The silence get cut by an unexpected question. “Eleanor-” “I’m making sure that someone who shouldn’t have power, keeps her crown. At this point I’m just spreading propaganda.”

She sighs and rests her head in her hands, covering her face. “I’m trying to keep someone safe by helping those with ill intentions. Does that make me a bad person?” She isn’t necessarily looking for an answer, she knows there is none.

“I agreed to it. If that makes you a bad person then I’m one too.” Scooting closer, Minho takes her hands from her face, squeezing lightly. “Angels can’t be bad, that’s exactly what they’re known for, what gives them their name.” She lets out a sad sounding chuckle. Despite everything, she can find a little enjoyment in the statement.

“There’s a first for everything.” He smiles at her, stroking the back of her hands. “No one is ever 100% good, but I’d like to think you are.” They say love makes you blind, and maybe she is, but she doesn’t really care.

“Then you are too.” No hesitation in his voice. She isn’t sure what makes him say that, but she’ll believe his words for now.

“We’ll figure out a way to satisfy everyone eventually. It just takes time of course. I trust the story won’t end badly.” He isn’t sure how to comfort her or how to give her an answer. All he can do now is support her. “I do hope so.” She lays her head on his shoulder, hoping that perhaps all her problems will disappear if she just forgets about them.

Jungkook usually loves the fact that the stores in town are open until late. He can’t even count the amount of times he went out at night to restock the snack he ate during the day, thanking the Lord for the gift of convenience stores.

Right now though, he hates it. Had the stores been closed by now, Namjoon wouldn’t have pushed him out the door to do the weekly grocery shopping, and Jungkook could have still been playing the new game he bought a week ago to which he ended up getting addicted to.

Well he wasn’t really forced out of the door, more like Namjoon convinced him to go. Damn him for having an important appointment with his project partner. Who wants to do school work during the weekend anyway?

“I should have everything now.” He murmurs while peering into the plastic bag dangling from his arm, looking back and forth between its contents and the shopping list to make sure he didn’t forget anything.

Jungkook probably bought more ramen than needed, but as long as he didn’t forget anything it should be fine. Even though it’s Jungkook who does most of the cooking in the house, Namjoon isn’t scared to scold him whenever he forgets something. Ridiculous, It isn’t even his fault the fridge ended up empty.

Realizing he still needs one of the vegetables, he turns around, walking back to the store he just came from with sighs and curses leaving his mouth. All he wants to do is go home and just get this done. There is nothing likable about eggplants anyway, when will he ever use them to cook?

Luckily for him, he won’t need to go back after all. Though, giving your life for not having to get an eggplant may seem a bit much. Not that he really has a choice in the unfair trade anyway.

Jungkook’s steps are fast, arriving at the grocery store as soon as possible is the only thing on his mind. It’s not until the clock strikes 9 pm exactly that he is forced to stop, an incredible heat closing in on his spot.

Someone somewhere screams. People everywhere start running in opposite directions, blindly clashing into each other. A few trip and fall, crawling to safety between the legs blocking their path. Others faint, their heads not being able to make sense of what’s happening.

Nobody minds them, forcefully stepping on the bodies of those on the ground. With the way people are moving it won’t be long before the entire street is empty. It’s complete chaos.

Jungkook, still standing where he stopped, looks up at the sky, searching for the cause of all this madness. He regrets it instantly, having probably been off better without knowing what was about to end him. Nothing could have ever prepared him for the sight.

About to set fire to everyone and everything, a massive blue fireball is raging his way. The bag he was holding falls to the ground, his eyes widening. It’s not hard to guess who the sender is. Luna is still after him.

It’s like time suddenly slows down substantially. The fireball is still so far away, yet also way too close. A memory of Namjoon chanting an extinguishing spell flashes through Jungkook’s mind, but is all too soon forgotten. Maybe if he had actually paid attention at that time he would be able to save himself now.

Frozen with fear, his feet refuse to move. He can’t do anything. Shivering all over, Jungkook crosses his arms in front of him as a way to shield himself. Maybe if he can’t see anything, it will cease to exist. And thus he closes his eyes as tightly as he can, waiting for the burning hot impact. He had long accepted his fate. It’s over for him.

[actress4him]

Whumptober 2020 - Day 9

I've gotten multiple requests (and one threat) for a part 2 of the previous chapter, and since I did enjoy writing that AU and already had somewhat of an idea of how it would continue in my head, I'm gonna try to write one. I'm currently writing Day 23, which means I have several prompt days left I can try to stick it in. If that doesn't work, I'll either do a bonus chapter at the end, or repost that fic separately with the second part added.

This one's definitely another dark one. I may have gotten slightly carried away with the whump. So make sure you check the warnings before you read! There's a lot of them! I also may have gotten slightly carried away with the syntax of these aliens...haha. We've got a little bit of Shiro in here, but mainly it's Red who gets her turn in the spotlight with Keith.

Read on AO3

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Day 9 - “Take Me Instead”/Ritual Sacrifice

Fandom:  Voltron: Legendary Defender

Warnings: human sacrifice, alien religion, a little bit of fantastic racism, non- consensual drug use, lots of non-consensual touching (not sexual), death mention, forced stripping (not sexual), nudity (not sexual), very vague references to child abuse if you squint, drowning, fire, burns, wrist cutting (not self-harm), blood, wishing for death (not actual suicide ideation)

Of all possible ways to be woken up, the sound of Shiro struggling to breathe was certainly not one of Keith’s favorites. He was on his feet the moment his groggy brain realized what he was hearing, but was immediately put into the same headlock that he could see his roommate for the night in. It wasn’t often that someone could get the jump on either one of them. Keith was going to blame the fact that the cowards had struck while they were asleep.

The cowards, in this case, were the Luktorians, a race that had seemed perfectly nice up until this moment. A bit odd, perhaps, and difficult to understand - Lance kept insisting they sounded like drunk Yoda - but peaceful. They had rather human-looking faces, offset by the various shades of blue skin they sported and the fact that they had impossibly long and skinny necks and four arms. It was those four arms that held him in place now, one around his neck, one across his chest and shoulders, and two latched onto his wrists.

“Shh. You Paladin calm yourself must. Harm no mean we you.”

“If you don’t mean us harm, then why are you attacking us in our sleep?” Keith growled.

The alien holding Shiro spoke up. “Need only have we of him. Sleep may you.”

“I don’t think so.” Keith attempted to lunge forward, but made it nowhere. “What do you need him for? You’re not taking anybody anywhere without some answers!”

A slight smile came over the pale blue alien’s face. “Come have you at a time perfect. The night tonight of the sacrifice great is.”

Keith’s brain stuck on one word out of that gibberish. “Wait, sacrifice? What do you mean, what sacrifice?”

The Luktorian behind him bent his long neck forward to look him in the face. “A sacrifice it is for enemies our protection from. Away keeps the Galra the goddess great and harm us others who would.”

“Okay, we can understand that,” Shiro finally broke in, though he seemed to still be struggling with the arm that was around his throat. “But, uh...that’s what Voltron is here to do. Right? We’re making an alliance with your people so that we can keep the Galra away. S-so...maybe you don’t need a sacrifice this time.”

A stormy look came over both the alien’s faces. “Claim do you the goddess great with equal to be?”

“N-no, no, that’s not what I was saying.” Keith was glad that Shiro knew at all what they were accusing, because he was lost, himself. “I’m just...thinking that perhaps your goddess is the one who brought us here. Perhaps she’s already protecting you, using Voltron.”

They seemed to consider this for a moment, and Keith held his breath. “Perhaps,” one answered at last. “Must make we if so the goddess great a sacrifice to thank.”

Keith let out a groan. There didn’t seem to be any way they were getting out of this one easily. But they still hadn’t actually heard what this sacrifice actually entailed, so maybe there was hope yet, though based on the late night choke hold he wasn’t counting on it.

Shiro seemed to be on the same train of thought. “So, um...what exactly do you need us...me...to do? How can I help?”

His captor smiled again, and Keith decided he did not like that look at all. “Quietly must come you prepared the altar for to be. Short running time is.”

Shiro paled visibly even in the dim lighting. “Right. So...I’m the sacrifice.”

Keith lunged again. “No! You’re not sacrificing him, I won’t let you!”

The Luktorian tipped his head to the side and regarded him as if he was a child. “Warrior strong the Paladin Black is and ties to the Galra has close. A candidate perfect is he.”

As Keith continued to struggle, Shiro did his best to lock eyes with him. “Keith, it’s okay. We’ll...we’ll figure this out, it’ll be okay.”

“No, it’s not okay, Shiro!” He had one more thing to try. It was a long shot, and Shiro would hate him for it, but he had to try. “Listen. You want somebody with close ties to the Galra? Then take me.”

“Keith, no!”

He ignored the interruption and made direct eye contact with Shiro’s captor. “Shiro...the Black Paladin...has been hurt by the Galra just as much as your people have, maybe more. His ties to the Galra are like yours. But me…” He sucked in as deep a breath as he could. “I’m part Galra. I’m a warrior, too, and you can’t get any closer to the Galra than me without sacrificing a pure-blooded one. Take me.”

Silence fell as everyone stared at him. Keith stubbornly refused to meet Shiro’s gaze, not wanting to see the pain that would be there.

“The truth think you do tells he?”

“Mm, think I does he.”

A definitive nod. “The sacrifice be then shall the Paladin Red.”

Now it was Shiro’s turn to struggle and lunge. “No! No, I’ll do it, I’ll go with you! I’ll be your sacrifice, okay? Just leave him here, leave him alone!”

Keith gave him a tight half-smile. “It’s okay. It’ll be fine.”

The pale blue alien released his one arm from Shiro’s shoulders so that he could reach into his pocket and pull out a small vial. Popping it open with his thumb, he poured the powdery substance over his captive’s head. “Sleep.”

Immediately Shiro’s eyes dropped shut and his chin slammed into his chest. The Luktorian deposited him gently back onto his bed and threw the blanket back over his legs. “Wake not the others and he will morning until.”

Keith clenched his teeth. Guess that rules out the possibility of screaming and alerting everyone out in the hall.

The royal blue alien holding him moved his top two hands down to grip his upper arms, finally leaving his neck free. “Come. Prepare the altar you for must we. Fight or your mind change not do or back come will we the Paladin Black for.”

Right. Cooperate or lose Shiro. There wasn’t even a debate to be had. He would always, always protect Shiro anytime he had the chance. He was his brother, in everything but blood or law, and he had already been through far too much for someone so young. Don’t you think you dying will be hard for him? He quickly pushed that thought aside. Yes, it would, but not as much as suffering at the hands of more aliens would. Besides, the team needed its leader a lot more than it needed its hotheaded half-breed.

Keith didn’t pay very much attention to their trip through the many intersecting hallways, lost in his head. He only became aware of his surroundings again when they entered a long, narrow room that was lit by torches along the walls and smelled very strongly of something perfumy and definitely not from Earth. Several other Luktorians, all dressed in the same simple white shifts, stood with their hands clasped in front of them, waiting.

His escorts wasted no time in handing him over, holding a brief, whispered conversation with a periwinkle-skinned female before exiting. Periwinkle clapped her hands, and the two that now held his arms, Grey Blue and Sky Blue, pulled him further into the room. He wanted to resist. He wanted to fight and kick and bite and spit so, so badly. All the instincts that he had been cultivating since childhood were shouting in his ear that he should not be letting someone drag him around like this, that he was bound to get hurt soon, but he squashed them back down with one single word. Shiro.

That almost wasn’t enough once they got to the apparent designated spot and Grey and Sky swiftly began stripping him. The shirt was one thing, but when they went for his belt and pants he panicked. “Hey! No, wait, stop, what are you doing?”

Periwinkle appeared in front of him with one eyebrow arched. “Told was I that a sacrifice quiet, good would be you. A problem there is?”

Keith’s shoulders heaved with shaky breaths. For Shiro. For Shiro. For Shiro. “N-no. No...problem.”

“Good.”

The stripping began again immediately. Clenching his fists and squeezing his eyes shut, he sent his mind somewhere far, far away, somewhere that was bright and happy and no one was touching him without his consent. By the time he had finally gotten his mind occupied, he was stark naked and being prodded forward to the next checkpoint.

Paladin. Hurt?

No, Red. I’m...I’m okay.

More Luktorians were waiting for them around an oval-shaped pool of lavender water. As Keith was positioned at the very edge they began chanting something in low voices. He was too busy worrying about what was about to happen to him to try to decipher what they were saying, and with good reason, too. Almost as soon as the chanting began, a set of hands landed on his back and shoved.

Keith could swim, that wasn’t a problem. The pool wasn’t even deep enough to worry about needing to swim, anyway. But the liquid - probably not water, he now realized - was heavy, and pulled him down to the bottom with no chance of fighting his way up. More importantly, it was scalding. He just barely kept himself from opening his mouth and screaming as his skin burned.

An instant later, multiple hands grabbed his arms and yanked him back up into the cool air. He was in the midst of panting for breath and shaking from pain when he was assaulted again, this time with rough sponges that scoured every inch of his body. It was becoming harder and harder to detach himself from reality, and more tempting every moment to punch every single one of these aliens in the face and race back to the safety of his team.

But he couldn’t. He had to stay for Shiro.

Paladin! Come?

No, Red. Stay. You can’t come.

His toes gripped the edge of another pool, this one deep purple, and he at least knew what was coming. More chanting, another shove. This time it was like breaking through an icy lake, making all his muscles seize up instantly. When he was pulled out, he was shivering uncontrollably. 

The chanting continued as some kind of oil was poured from an intricately painted vase over his head, turning his already wet body slick and shiny. Lastly, Periwinkle produced a garland of pungent blue and purple flowers - the source of the perfumy smell - and set it carefully atop his hair.

“Ready the sacrifice is. Us let proceed.”

Just before the procession left the room, Grey and Sky wrapped a strip of silky fabric around his hips and knotted it on one side. Well, I’ll die with some of my dignity intact. At least there’s that.

The ceremony was apparently taking place in a cathedral-like space. Strange music was playing as they entered, with the Luktorians deep, humming voices singing along. Hundreds of them were gathered, their waving, bobbing heads almost looking like an ocean.

Directly in front of Keith and his parade was a steep set of stairs leading up to a platform. A Luktorian in heavy purple robes with the deepest blue skin he had seen so far stood at the top, looking down on them. They halted at the foot of the stairs. Deep Blue, probably a priest, was saying something, probably initiating the ceremony, but Keith’s heart was pounding too loudly in his ears for him to hear.

Forward again. Up the stairs - eleven total. Counting them kept his mind off of what was coming, even if it was only for a few seconds. Then they were at the top, and the priest was placing a hand on Keith’s head. Even after everything he had been through over the past hour, the touch still made him flinch.

More indecipherable words as his eyes zoned in on the stone structure looming in the background, oval shaped, like the pools. The altar. Already he could see orange coals glowing in the open space underneath it, and his breathing kicked into high gear. 

Of all the ways to die. The fact that it was idiotic and humiliating was bad enough, but now he knew he would die by fire. Just like his dad. Just like his nightmares since he was six.

For Shiro. For Shiro.

Grey and Sky dragged him forward. He was more resistant now, only because his body was momentarily winning over his mind, but no one seemed to care anymore. They lifted him off his feet, holding him up high and parallel to the ground for only a moment before lowering him down onto the metal grate. 

This time Keith did scream. The metal had been heating over the coals for who knew how long, and it seared into the bare skin of his back. While he was busy blinking back the tears that sprang to his eyes, straps were expertly tightened over his ankles, thighs, chest, biceps, and throat. His arms had been positioned out away from his body, resting in two troughs that angled down toward the lower part of the altar.

Paladin hurt. I come.

Red...Red no. You can’t. I have to do this...I have to.

A knife flashed in the light over his head and he jumped, jarring the burns on his back. Biting down on his lip, he let out a quiet whine.

I come! Paladin needs.

I...I do need you. But…if you want to help me, then get the others to try to wake their Paladins. You can’t save me until we make sure the others are safe. He didn’t expect it to actually work. Whatever substance the Luktorians had used was probably stronger than a mental bond. But at least maybe it would keep Red occupied, pull her away from having to listen to his panicked thoughts.

The priest was standing over his right side now, the knife he had glimpsed held aloft in his hand. “The sacrifice first now - the blood spilling of.”

Before Keith could think to react, it came swooping down and sliced deep into his wrist. He cried out through gritted teeth. As the priest circled to the other side, he twisted his head as best he could to look down at the damage and saw blood flowing rapidly over his hand and down the trough. A second later, his left wrist was cut open as well.

Already he was growing lightheaded and nauseous. As the priest faced the audience and droned on about who knows what, Keith let his eyes slip shut. 

I’m sorry, Shiro. I know you’re gonna be so angry and hurt when you wake up tomorrow. Just remember...I did it because I love you. You’re my brother.

“The sacrifice second now - the flesh burning of.”

His breath hitched and he pressed his lips together, trying not to make any more pathetic noises, but his rapid breathing gave away his terror. He could hear the clunk of wood echoing below him as more fuel was thrown in, and the crunch of coals being stirred. Mere seconds later, a flame flared, and he sobbed despite his efforts as it licked his already raw back. 

The Luktorians were chanting again, the whole assembly, and they sounded like a hive of bees in his ears. More flames jumped up, higher and higher. He was full-on weeping now, and he didn’t even care. It was so much worse than his nightmares had ever been. He could only hope now that it would consume him quickly, or that the blood loss would take him first.

Please...please just let me die…

Paladin! We come!

His eyes flew open just in time to see five beautiful, colorful Lions burst through the roof of the cathedral, mouths wide open in a chorus of ferocious roars.

[fangirlshrewt97]

The Old Guard Fanfic - Second Star to the Right

Author(s): Fangirlshrewt97

Fandom: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)

Pairing: Andy & Nile

Characters: Nile Freeman, Andy|Andromache the Scynthian

Rating: General

Warnings: None

Additional Tags:  Family Bonding, Fluff, Family Feels, Vacation, Soft, Family Bonding, Team as Family, soft, Stargazing, andy and nile chat under an open sky, Peter Pan References, Constellations, Stories hidden in the stars, Existential Angst, Mostly Andy talking about how living for 6000 years is not that great, idk guys, there's nothing like looking up at the stars to make one feel small, but that isn't always a bad or scary thing

Summary:

She looked at the stars again. “I like coming to places like this because they make me feel not so old. They are pockets in time, inside of which time hasn’t really passed.” Nile twisted to lay on her back again, looking at the sky. “I feel old when I look at you all, and now without my immortality? I am not scared, but I feel like time is going too quickly. I used to be worshipped as a goddess, as someone not from this world. But I am of this world. So firmly of this world. And looking at these hills, these stars? It makes me feel small.” In a voice that was steadier than it was all evening, she added. “So little makes me feel small anymore. But these stars? They have been here since I was born. And they will still shine long after I am gone. To them, I am as transient as any other human that has walked the Earth. And that is a comfort very few places on the planet can offer me anymore.”

Basically, Andy and Nile share a night under a sky filled with stars and the stories written in them.

Link to A03: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25692349

                                                          ///

They had just finished a bloody mission that left even the immortals feeling worse for the wear. So Andy had told Copley to give them one week off, and hauled them all back into a van, telling them unceremoniously they were going camping. Joe and Nicky had merely slumped against each other, too sore and tired to argue. Nile had sighed, said a very firm “Fine, but we are getting actual food, I am not eating bunnies for dinner.” and fallen asleep in her seat.

Andy woke them up when they reached Lancaster, stopping to eat lunch.

When they got back into the car, Joe curled up against Nicky again, falling asleep quickly. He had been on watch when their mission had gone sideways, and been up for nearly 48 hours. Nicky pulled him more comfortably into his side. Nile curled up in the front seat, plugging her earphones in, and closing her eyes. They were back on the highway quickly.

“Where are we going Andy?” Nile ventured to ask as she saw the city melt into buildings, the skies the peculiar shade of gray she had only seen in the UK.  

“Scottish Highlands.”

Nile paused. Her geography was still not great, but wasn’t Scotland at the opposite end on the island?  “From Surrey? Why are we driving so far?”

“Because I want to be away from people.”

That had shut Nile up. She gave Andy a through once over, noticing the tension in her shoulders, the tight grip she had on the steering wheel, her eyes darting to the side mirrors every few seconds. She looked haunted.

Nicky tightened his grip on Joe and tucked his face into familiar curls in the back seat. Nile settled deeper into the seat, letting Andy drive them.

Agreeing to Nile’s request, Andy had stopped at the last town before they drove into the Scottish Highlands, allowing her family to refuel and buy any food they may need. The two boys had disappeared into a store, saying they were going to buy actual cooking gear for camping.

“Andy, not that I don’t miss the days of spearing innocent forest creatures on sticks and eating, why should we when we can cook them using actual pots and a stove? Look at this, it is specifically made for when people sleep outdoors.” Joe had said, holding up a camping stove with a delighted grin.

Andy had grimaced but held her tongue, just grabbing chocolate and granola bars before returning to the car.

Nicky had nudged Joe to buy the rest of their supplies while Nile was tasked with buying the tents and sleeping bags.

The rest of the drive was peaceful. They had set out in the late morning from Copley’s place, and reached the Highlands by evening, the streetlights thinning out as the sunset painted the sky a beautiful shade of purple and orange. Nile had gasped when they entered the Highlands proper, pressing her face to the window, uncaring that she probably looked every bit the child the others saw her as.

She was all of 26 years old, a woman for others, but painfully young for them. So much curiosity, so much hope, and none of the jaded vision that they other three of them shared.

“Beautiful isn’t it Nile?” Nicky asked.

“I don’t think I have ever seen something so beautiful. Or green.” she said, wonder plain in her voice.

“Used to be, anywhere you walked, green was the easiest colour you could find.” Andy quipped, making Nile look at her. She noted that the tension in Andy’s shoulders from before was slowly decreasing with every mile they drove.

Andy drove them until they hadn’t seen a house for a couple miles, pulling the car out of the road into the Highlands proper, parking it a little distance from the river.

The family of four got out, breathing in air that was so fresh and cool, Nile felt overwhelmed. The only time Chicago air was so clear was in the dead of winter, but even then, the smell of industrialization was inescapable. Being in places like this, still largely untouched by modern civilization, it brought their pasts closer. Joe inhaled deeply before slamming the door, even that loud noise seeming quiet in this place.

“So Nile,” Joe started, making her look at him. “Do you know how to set up a tent?”

///

Nile woke with a start for no discernible reason. She squinted at the pitch black darkness that surrounds her, just flips onto her back and breathes until she feels her heart rate return to normal.

Dinner had been fun, Nicky teaching her the kinds of sticks to use to build a fire, and then showing her how to light it using flint. It had taken her way too many tries, but at least the others had been kind enough to keep their laughter to themselves. Setting up the tents had also been an adventure, but at least that one she had only messed up once before hammering the stakes deeper into the ground.

She took stock of her surroundings, already knowing she was not going to be returning to sleep soon. The chill in the air seems to have soaked into her skin as she slept, her thin nightshirt not enough to warm her. Turning her head, she saw Andy’s sleeping bag exactly as she had laid it out. Their leader had not come to sleep at all.

Reaching her hand out, she felt around for a bit before she stumbled upon the small flashlight she had remembered to buy. Turning it on now, she had to squint at the sudden influx of light in the dark tent. She sat up on her elbows, and saw that there was a small opening at the edge where it was not fully closed.

She sighed. Sitting up properly, she reached for her bag, using the flashlight to grab her hoodie, pulling it over her head. She debated quietly between shoes or going barefoot before shrugging. The possibility of being attacked here without the others knowing was nigh impossible. Barefoot it was. She also grabbed her phone, checking the time out of habit, and seeing it was 3:30 in the morning.

Keeping her flashlight in hand, she unzipped the tent and stepped out. The grass beneath her feet was not yet wet. Moving quietly, not wanting to startle her other two companions, Nile left their small campsite, their fire pit made of ashes and a few red embers.

She turned off her flashlight when she realized it was actually quiet bright, and turned her head to the sky, only to feel as though she had exhaled all at once. There in the sky, an almost full moon shone brightly, so clear Nile could make out a few of it’s craters eve without binoculars. But besides the moon. Besides the moon was a sky so chock full of stars, Nile nearly fell over. As far as she could see, the navy blue ceiling was painted with a million, no, a billion pin pricks of lights, all crowding one another she could barely pick them apart.

Taking a deep breath, she tore her gaze from the sky, setting her gaze to the ground once again so she could find Andy.

The grass was rustling gently, and the hills rose like mountains in the moonlight. Nile walked away from the camp and the car, following the river in the direction where the grass was flatter, as though it had been tread on. After five minutes, she found her target.

Andy was lying on her back on her blanket, one arm tucked her head as the other lay on her stomach. One of her legs was bent at the knee while the other one was flat, and Nile noticed the elder woman was barefoot, shoes set to the sides. When she was less than 10 meters away from her, Andy turned her head to look at her.

“Couldn’t sleep kid?”

Nile shook her head. “Couldn’t stay asleep.”

“Hmm.” Andy hummed before turned back.

Nile took that as a cue and sat next to Andy’s head, closing her eyes. The wind was chilly but she was Chicago born and bred, if the wind didn’t slice through your skin, you just walked on.

“This place looks like its out of a fairy tale or something.”

Andy huffed next to her.

“No seriously. When my mom or dad read fairy tales to me, and they mentioned characters walking for days through valleys, I always imagined places like this.”

When Nile looked at Andy, she saw the woman had her eyes open, a small smile in place. She suddenly felt her breath catch when she realized she couldn’t recall if she had ever seen her look so relaxed before.

“What about you. Couldn’t sleep?” Nile asked after a few minutes.

Andy shook her head once. “Didn’t want to.”

“Why not?”

Andy took a deep breath, letting her eyes fall closed and her bent leg to drop. When she opened them, Nile could see her eyes were slightly glazed, and bit her tongue for making Andy upset again. She had been with her new family for about a year now, and while she liked to think she had gotten a hand of things, these people had had nearly 900 years together. There was so much she did not know about them. Andy most of all.

“I’m sorry Andy.”

“No. I am not. I didn’t want to sleep because we don’t come to places like this often.”

“Places…like this? Like places away from people.”

Andy huffed again, her eyes looking less glazed and more fond. “Open fields, green things that stretch as far as the eye can see.”

“Oh.”

“My home, the place I come from, it was similar to this. Open fields that seemed to reach the horizon. Where you could rise a horse all day and all day, and still not be any closer to the sun. Cities, hell, the world nowadays. It is large and filled with people, gray and metallic. You can’t hear the sound of grass rustling, or run in a straight line for as long as you want.” She paused. “You also definitely don’t get a night sky like this anymore.”

Nile exhaled with an agreeing huff.

“I don’t think I have ever seen such a clear sky, not even in Afghanistan.”

“Lie back, it’ll be easier to see without giving you a neck ache.”

Nile smirked before moving forward and lying back, landing on her back with her knees bent and hands folded over her stomach.

The dazzling array was just as stunning, and Nile thought it was a vision she wouldn’t forget for a long time.

She squinted for a minute before smiling as she identified a familiar set of three stars in the sky. “Andy look, Orion’s belt!”

Andy glanced at her before following her hand. “Hmm. Three stars in a straight line.”

“Yeah, it was the first one my dad taught me.” Nile said, smile fading to the familiar mixture of wonder and sadness that was becoming a friend to her in her immortality.

“Your dad taught you constellations?”

Nile nodded her head as best she could. “Me and my brother both. He bought this telescope that he set out in our yard. Mom was so mad at him cause it was so expensive but he just waved her off, telling her it was well worth the prize to show the universe to his kids. Said he was going to help us find Neverland.”

“Neverland?” Andy asked.

“It’s, yeah,” Nile laughed. “Peter Pan. Um, the book, and then the movie, it was my favorite for a long time. The thought of this magical being coming to call me for an adventure in a land far far away? Plus, the directions to Neverland were ‘Second star to the right, and straight on till the morning’. I remember, the first time we watched the movie, I stayed up that night trying to find which star was supposed to be the second star.”

“I’ve not read that book.”

“I’m not sure how much you’d like it. But it is about a boy who has all these other younger boys he takes care of while fighting off the evil Captain Hook, and he has a fairy friend called Tinkerbell.”

“How…charming.”

Nile snorted. “It’s cheesy as hell. And dark too, cause when you read it after you grow up, it kind of implies that Peter doesn’t let the boys go even when they want to leave, forcing them to be young boys forever. Or something like that, it has been forever since I read it.”

“Hmm.” Andy said. “Second star to the right of what?”

“I have no clue!” Nile said, genuine frustration coloring her voice, and Andy can almost imagine an even younger Nile pouting and stomping her foot with indignation. It makes her laugh.

“Neverland sounds magical.”

“I used to dream for a long time for a way to escape there. Especially after my dad passed. The world doesn’t touch Neverland, and if I stayed the same age as when we first received the news he was missing in action, then maybe he could stay missing forever. Rather than dead.”

A stray tear surprised her by making its way down her cheek. Reaching up, she quickly wiped it away.

Andy was quiet, letting Nile compose herself. “He sounds like a good father.”

Nile replied through a lump in her throat. “The best.”

Andy looked back at the sky. “The first thing I remember my father teaching me was to put a saddle on a horse.”

The unexpectedness and absurdity of the statement startled a laugh out of Nile. She turns to her side, tucking her knees in and using her arm as a pillow as she faced Andy. “What?”

Andy smirked. “My people. We were nomads. Our lands stretched over most of today’s Western Asia. We used to travel far and wide. We didn’t have a settlement, a permanent place to call home. Our home was our tribe, those we travelled with.”

Nile felt like she could barely breathe, so scared of breaking this spell. “That is lovely.”

Andy’s smile dimmed. “Yeah. Until all your people die, and you have to either leave them or risk putting them in even more danger.”

“Andy…”

“Nile, I was revered as a goddess by my people. And by some of the others I crossed during my earliest travels. It,” Andy swallowed, “When you are revered, you are held at a distance, you can be welcomed by people, but you will never be one of them.”

Nile stayed silent. What could you say to that?

“When I started dreaming of Quynh, I cried in relief. Finding her, she saved me in so many ways. She brought me back to the ground, gave me someone who would always consider me one of her people.” Andy trailed off, her eyes looking suspiciously glazed while her voice sounded close to tears. “We were just the two of us for so long, and then we had Lykon, then we didn’t, then we got Joe and Nicky. But then I lost her.”

“How did you stay sane Andy?” Nile asks before she can bite back the question.

Andy gave a wet chuckle as a single tear made it’s way down her cheek. She did not bother to wipe it away. “Some days I wonder if I did.”  

The two stayed quiet them, succumbing to unspoken grief. But Nile felt like she was going to suffocate, and she’d be damned if she let Andy do the same. “Did your dad teach you constellations too?”

Andy blinked before twisting her head.

Nile stared straight back at her.

Andy smiled a small smile. It was enough of a victory for Nile.

“He taught me constellations you wouldn’t know.”

“I don’t know that many constellations to be honest.”

Andy let out an actual laugh. “No Nile. He taught me constellations that have been lost to time.

She let out a big exhale, settling back to her position. “In those years when I travelled alone, I started feeling like nothing in this world was significant. Quynh and I travelled to Egypt, we saw Giza before the pyramids were built.”

And shit, statements like that still blew Nile’s mind, because what?

“What?”

Andy chuckled. “Yeah, I remember going while they were clearing out the place for them. Without Quynh, you are all so young to me. Even Nicky and Joe. I have seen the great wonders of the world be built, be new and enchanting, and also seen them grow old and worn. When you have lived a life like mine, things stop feeling significant in some ways.”

Nile didn’t voice how terrifying she found that idea.

“Andy, just because you have seen all the wonders doesn’t mean new wonders cannot still be appreciated.”

“That’s not what I mean Nile.” She held up a hand, and Nile stared at it before tentatively placing her hand in it. Andy squeezed it briefly.

“When you live as long as we do, we see the world change in a way that is different than the change observed over a single lifetime. I have gone from a world where the only way to get around were horses and believing the world was flat to learning to fly and seeing a man walk on the moon.”

“Oh, that’s a story I want to hear.” Nile said, eyes sparkling.

Andy laughed again. “Perhaps another day. Joe tells it best anyways. But what I am trying to say is that the world changes so quickly, that the thing you take for fact now may soon reveal themselves to be falsehoods and myths, and people younger to you,” and here Andy squeezed her hand again, “will take the piss at you for not knowing something that is obvious to them.”

“Booker?”

“Booker.”

She looked at the stars again. “I like coming to places like this because they make me feel not so old. They are pockets in time, inside of which time hasn’t really passed.”

Nile twisted to lay on her back again, looking at the sky.

“I feel old when I look at you all, and now without my immortality? I am not scared, but I feel like time is going too quickly. I used to be worshipped as a goddess, as someone not from this world. But I am of this world. So firmly of this world. And looking at these hills, these stars? It makes me feel small.” In a voice that was steadier than it was all evening, she added. “So little makes me feel small anymore. But these stars? They have been here since I was born. And they will still shine long after I am gone. To them, I am as transient as any other human that has walked the Earth. And that is a comfort very few places on the planet can offer me anymore.”

“Tell me a story.”

Andy blinked at her. Nile gave her an encouraging smile.

“A…story?” Andy asked, as though the word was new to her.

“Of one of the constellations your dad taught you. So there is one other person who will know about them.”

Andy’s breath hitched. Nile was so young, even by normal human lifespans. Too young to have already died. But so kind, so hopeful, Andy sometimes froze with how much life there was in Nile. But she had meant every word that she had said in Merrick’s penthouse, because Nile did remind her of her time being invincible. But she also reminded her of how precious life is.

“A trade. I tell you the constellations my father taught me, if you tell me yours?”

Nile laughed. “Sure, but I only know the big ones.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

Nile shook her head even as she used the hand still holding Andy’s for a sideway handshake. “Deal.”

She looked at the sky, trying to imagine the sky to be about 70% less crowded. The longer she stared, the more she was able to distinguish. “Ok well, since we found Orion’s belt, we can also find the rest of Orion. And then close to Orion, we can see the Big Dipper, which means, uhhh,” Nile said as she waved her hand before finding her target. “There. That’s the Small Dipper. Um, what else, oh there, on top of Orion, that’s Gemini, and nearby Taurus, oh wow, you know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen all the stars for it at once? One or two would always be too faded in Chicago.”

“You can find all the Zodiac constellations?” Andy asked.

“I know what they look like, but I’ve never seen them all in the sky.”

Andy hummed. “Those 12 constellations. That pattern is seen everywhere in the world, so almost every culture that uses the stars and draws in them finds them.” she explained. “All the Zodiac signs fall in a line that follows the Sun’s path. So if you can find Gemini and Taurus, then you can find the others. Look, follow my finger ok?”

Nile nodded.

“You see that star?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s the first star of Cancer. So, those five stars make up Cancer. Then keep following them that way, you see those two stars, they are part of the head of the lion.”

“Leo.”

“Correct, so you will see one star to that side, and then follow it down, that’s the neck, and then these six stars,” She drew a imaginary line between then several times, “Those six make up the body.”

Andy showed her the rest of the constellations, and then to test her, made Nile draw them all out for her.

“Satisfied?” Nile asked as she finished drawing Pisces.

“What others do you know?”

“Um, the Northern cross.” Nile said, searching the sky. Andy grabbed her hand and pointed it towards one section of the sky, letting Nile focus and “Found it!”

“Where is the North star?”

“The last star of the Small Dipper.”

“Very good.”

Both women lay back down, enjoying the wind rustling gently through the trees as they watched the heavens above. Nile felt the warmth from before grow into a comfortable hearth.

“Thank you for the Astronomy lesson.”

“You’re welcome. There may come a time when your fancy GPS, or even a reliable compass won’t work, but you can always trust the stars to guide you in the right direction.”

Nile turned to look at Andy. “Your turn to show me your constellations. We made a deal.”

Taking a deep breath, Andy let her eyes scan the stars above before finding a forgotten constellation. “Do you see those two stars?” Andy pointed.

Nile followed her gaze.

Nile let Andy show her constellations from her childhood, feeling both a bitter pang of nostalgia for her brother and her dad. But also a curl of warmth in this foreign sea of grass that warmed her better than the fire pit had.

Even if most of the stars they perceived had actually died a long long time ago, they still shone bright, and Nile would make sure these stories Andy was telling her would live on. Just as much as Andy’s own.

She may have stopped searching for Neverland, but she thinks she might have found it anyways. After all, what did Peter Pan and his lost boys have on a 6000-year-old badass woman and two star-crossed Crusaders in love?

Nile settled on the grass, letting Andy make sense of the twinkling tapestry above them.

[pandawritespoorly]

With Time: Chapter 24 - Sick Day

Author’s Note: Hey, look, and update that's on time. Good way to start off the new year I suppose! I hope the decade has been going well for you guys, and if not, I hope that this angst-free chapter can be, at the very least, something that makes you happy.

Chapter Summary: Falling in a snowdrift tends to have negative consequences on one's health, so the Quantics check on their favorite designer.

First | Previous | Saturday

The moment the bakery opens, Allan walks in. He smiles at Tom and Sabine, waving as he heads in the back. He walks a little faster than what is probably necessary, but he’s worried. 

He’s calmed down some - making something helps - but he’d like to check on Marinette himself. Falling in a snowdrift in this sort of weather is not good for your health.

Looking at his phone he sees a text from Felix.

 Felix: Allan, do not wake up early solely to check on Marinette. I am certain she is fine, perhaps she has a cold at the very worst. Her parents would have let us know if she was seriously ill.

 The Mom Friend: to late

 Melodie: Oh Allan.

 The Mom Friend: I just want to check on her quick.

 Kid Mime: ill head over to

Kid Mime: its ok allan

 The Mom Friend: but stil

 He pushes the trapdoor open gently, “‘Nette? You up?”

No response. That’s fine. She’s probably sleeping. She’s fine. She’s just sick. Probably. 

…

It wouldn’t hurt to check.

He climbs the ladder, breathing a sigh of relief when he sees her curled against the wall, clearly breathing and perfectly fine.

Maybe she isn't fine. She might be sick. It’s just a cold. A flu at the worst.

It could be something worse. She fell into a snowdrift and stayed there for a while.

How long has she been sleeping? Sleeping for too long could be bad. He almost wakes her up, then he hesitates. Maybe she’s only just gone to sleep. If that’s the case, maybe he shouldn’t.

Is there a way to tell how long someone has been asleep?

He’s standing at the top of the ladder, hesitating for too long. Oh come on. She’s fine. She’s fine, you know she’s fine. It makes the most sense given all the facts.

But what if she’s not? He’s no doctor, but when he thinks of the consequences of prolonged exposure to cold he thinks of three things: a cold, the flu, and pneumonia.

Pneumonia.

That can kill people.

Maybe he should wake her up.

He’s still hesitating when the trapdoor opens. He doesn’t have to turn to know Claude has arrived.

“Do you think she has pneumonia?” He doesn't look from her when he asks the question, but Claude can hear the anxiety in his voice.

“No, Allan. I don’t think she has pneumonia.”

“But maybe-”

“Shhh. Allan, she’s fine. Get off the ladder.”

“We aren’t doctors-”

“So we can’t diagnose her with anything. We’ll assume it’s the flu for now, and if it seems bad we’ll get her to a doctor. Come on.” Claude gently coaxes him down the ladder, “How much did you sleep last night?”

“Maybe four hours?”

“Maybe?” “Okay, about two an’ a half…” he sees Claude’s look, “It wasn’t just ‘cause of Mari. It’s just… once I get started…”

“You don’t stop. Oh, Al’.” Claude has safely helped the other boy onto the floor, and they lead him to the chaise, “Sit down at the very least. Mari won’t mind. I understand if you can’t get yourself to sleep, but you deserve to rest.”

“...how long do you think she’s been sleeping? Would it be worse t’ wake her up too early or too late?” he startles at his last words, sitting up further, “I don’t like the sound of ‘too late’ maybe we should-”

Claude squeezes his hand a little, “Allan. Marinette is fine. It’s only a cold. Maybe the flu.”

“Right. She’s fine. Everything is fine.” he doesn’t sound entirely convinced, but he nods anyways.

Claude nods too, claiming the desk chair to work on a few things he’d brought over. They’d only grabbed their backpack, which had only a portion of their homework, but Allan had needed someone. Claude hadn’t been doing anything important anyways - just trying to find the most annoying memes he could possibly send to Felix.

After about 45 minutes, he looks up from the finished packet to see that Allan has fallen asleep against the chaise lounge. He’s rather precariously near the edge, and that just won’t do.

When they stand to move him further onto the longue, they notice that he’s holding his phone loosely. After adjusting his position and putting a blanket over him, Claude swipes the phone quickly, returning to the desk chair as he unlocks it.

He opens to the search results for ‘early signs of pneumonia’.

Allan, sweetie, no.

They close the phone, leaving it on the desk and opening his own to inform Felix, Adrien, and Allegra of the current status of their two most anxious friends.

 Kid Mime: ive ben here for a bit

Kid Mime: al is napping

Kid Mime: hes worried that mari has newmonia

 Melodie: Allan, honey.

 Kid Mime: mari is still asleep

Kid Mime: she seems fine

 Felix: Allegra and I can join you in an hour or so.

 Hug This Boy: I might be able to sneak away around lunch? If I finish the shoots early.

 Melodie: Gabriel does realize you’re a child, not a machine, right?

 Hug This Boy: You already are worried about two of us, there’s no need to make it three.

 Melodie: Watch me.

 Kid Mime: i have 2 say im with her on this

Kid Mime: im gunna kidnap u

 Felix: That’s illegal.

 Kid Mime: that makes it exciting

 Felix: I know when I’m fighting a losing battle.

 Hug This Boy: Do I get a say in this?

Melodie: Of course. We wouldn’t make you do anything you don’t want to do.

 Kid Mime: subtle

 Hug This Boy: What a concept.

Hug This Boy: Maybe I can get behind this.

 Melodie: I wasn’t going for ‘subtle’.

Melodie: More something along the lines of ‘GABRIEL AGRESTE IS A TERRIBLE PARENT WHO WOULDN”T KNOW THE MEANING OF LOVE/CARE IF IT PUNCHED HIM IN THE GUT’

 Kid Mime: pretty close

 Hug This Boy: Maybe putting it a little lightly, but that’s the gist of it.

 Melodie: Oh you poor baby.

---

Felix and Allegra show up, entering the room quietly.

“Good. They’re both still sleeping.” Allegra comments.

“Did Allan tell you how many hours of sleep he had last night?” Felix inquires.

“Two and a half.” Claude says matter-of-factly.

“Honey.”

“And how is Marinette?”

“She’s been sleeping the whole time. She feels a little warm, but that’s about all I can tell without waking her up.”

Allegra hums, climbing up the ladder to check on the girl herself. Marinette hasn’t moved much and is resting contentedly. Putting her hand to the sick girl’s forehead, Allegra can tell that Claude was right. Definitely a little warm.

Marinette’s eyes open slightly, squinting at the braided blonde.

“Hi honey, how’re you feeling?”

Marinette shakes her head slightly, giving a thumbs down.

“Well, I’m sorry to hear that. Are you gonna get up or are you going back to sleep?”

She gives a half shrug. Being awake sounds nice, but her eyes keep slipping shut.

“Alright. We’re all here. Except for Adrien.”

Marinette mumbles something bitterly, but all her friend picks up is ‘Gabriel’. She’s got some ideas of what Marinette might have said.

Allegra turns to the boys once she’s off the ladder, “She’s awake-ish. I’m not sure how long that’ll last, but she’s awake enough to hate on Gabriel Agreste.”

“Is that honestly her priority right now?” Felix asks.

“It’s always a priority,” is all he gets as a response.

Claude has produced a cup of water from who-knows-where, and he carries it up to Marinette.

“Hi sweetie, are you still awake?”

She shrugs, forcing her eyes open to squint at them. Once she sees the water she reaches for it, but gives up halfway.

“You sure you can hold this? You’re barely awake.”

Her glare is probably supposed to be defiant, but when she keeps having to force her eyes open, it isn’t exactly effective.

“Sure. You can have this when you’re sitting up then.” he returns to the ground and places the water on the desk, turning to Felix and Allegra as he spins in the desk chair, “So what have you two been up to?”

“Nothing that you are unaware of,” Felix sits on Marinette’s case against the wall.

“We got back a little early. I’m glad to be back - not that the trip was bad, it’s just nice to be home.” Allegra rests against the chaise, glancing at the sleeping boy on it momentarily.

“What do ya’ think Mari was doing outside?”

“It does seem odd, given her predisposition to staying indoors when it is as cold as it was yesterday.”

“We can ask her when she wakes up more.”

“She might just try to sleep through it. She’ll probably be even more tired than normal so…” Claude shrugs.

Before the others can say anything, there’s a shuffling from above. Marinette props herself up and blinks down at them.

“Hello,” Felix greets her for the first time that day.

She only blinks, still trying to decide if she made the right decision by sitting up.

“You can have the water now!” Claude grabs the water from where they placed it, carrying it up to Marinette, who is able to grab it this time. She’s visibly shivering.

She finishes it off, placing it on a shelf beside her. It takes a moment, but she is able to give a soft, “Thank you.”

“It’s no problem. How you feelin’?”

She sticks out her tongue, “Bad.”

“Could you specify?” Felix calls up.

“Tired. Cold. Ache.”

“Temperature?” Allegra chimes in.

Marinette frowns as she tries to remember, Claude taps her arm and points out the thermometer.

“38.2 (100.8℉),” They read out for her. She’s beginning to slump slightly, probably debating whether or not she should rest.

“Do you want any ibuprofen or anything?” Allegra offers.

Marinette hums, drooping further. She straightens slightly, trying to seem alert and looking apologetic.

“Still tired?” Claude cocks his head at her, smiling softly.

“...no…I’m ‘wake...” she has propped herself up, relying heavily on one arm, and is sitting up fairly straight. If it weren’t for her head resting on her shoulder, she might have looked a little more convincing - if you also excluded all other factors.

“Really?”

“Yup…” She remains sitting, and feigns attentiveness.

Claude is resting against the wall next to her, looking doubtful, but he doesn’t comment.

“So what were you doing outside yesterday?” Allegra asks. If she’s going to pretend she can hold a conversation, then they may as well try.

Marinette mumbles a little, her arm seemingly failing to support her as before. She leans against Claude lightly, as though she is both in denial of her weariness and worried about somehow upsetting them.

“Still with us, Mare?” “Mhm.” She forces her eyes open again, 

“Somehow, I remain unconvinced.” Felix comments.

This time, she doesn’t respond. Leaning forward, her eyes slip shut again, and Claude moves her to lean against him - it’d be more comfortable than falling on her face. The group thinks she’s finally asleep, but she sits up again.

“Alright, that’s enough, Marinette,” Allegra is firm, but her voice is gentle, “You need to rest.”

Marinette doesn’t seem to quite register this, but goes to rest on Claude’s lap regardless. He combs her hair with his hands, hoping to lull her to sleep. 

After a few moments, she seems to have finally returned to rest, and he turns to the two below him, “Either of you have any homework left? I’ve got mine done.”

“No, I finished it.”

“Mine has also been completed.”

“Do you think Allan and Mari got theirs done?”

“He’s probably all set, but Marinette’s kind of up in the air. Usually I would say yes, but with it being winter…” Allegra trails off, giving a lopsided shrug, “We can ask when she’s not sick.”

“We should make sure that both of them get something to eat. Allan likely skipped breakfast, and the chances of Marinette eating without prior prompting are very slight.”

“True.”

“Same goes for Adrien. I wouldn’t put it past Gabriel to starve him if he doesn’t do well enough.” Allegra mutters bitterly.

“Allegra.” Felix warns.

She crosses her arms, clearly not done with it, but willing to put it aside. For now.

---

It’s another hour before Allan wakes up. He sits up, noticing that Allegra and Felix have arrived, “Oh. Hi. How long have you guys been here?”

“A while. How are you feeling?”

“...how is Marinette?” He ignores the question.

“Allan. How are you? Marinette’s fine.” Claude gestures at the girl still napping on him.

“What’s her temperature? Has she woken up? Has she eaten? What-”

“Allan.” Felix interrupts, “Marinette is fine. She woke up not too long ago. We are currently more concerned about you. How are you feeling?”

“Better, I guess. Napping helped. I don’t do well without sleep.”

“We know.” Allegra consoles, “That’s why Claude came over - they knew someone needed to check on you.” “Yeah, Al’. We’re not going to let you worry yourself into a pit.”

“Thanks.” He smiles softly, and they accept the victory.

“Also, Marinette did wake up. She had some water, her temperature was 38.2 (100.8℉), and she said she felt, ‘Tired. Cold. Ache.’ if I quote her directly.”

“Then she fell asleep on me!”

“Alright.” Allan takes a moment to consider this, “That’s not so bad.”

“Mhm!”

“Did you eat at all this morning?” Felix looks at him meaningfully.

“I might have maybe… put it off?”

“I’ll grab some food.” Allegra stands to get something from the kitchen. The Dupain-Chengs have told them multiple times that they’re welcome to eat when they’re over.

Marinette stirs slightly, eventually sitting up properly as Allegra re-enters. Allan looks to Marinette as he accepts the food from Allegra, “Thanks. How you feelin’ ‘Nette?”

She only wrinkles her nose, sticking her tongue out again. She seems to register that he wasn’t awake last time, “Hi…? You’re  ‘wake now?” Everything is spoken questioningly - she doesn't seem to be entirely sure of anything.

“I am.”

“Despite what he may tell you, Allan isn’t very good at self-care. He’s got the idea, but forgets the ‘self’ part,” Claude adds.

“Yah…’ve ‘noticed…” Marinette looks at the boy carefully.

“I’m all good now though.” He reassures her.

She only makes an ‘I’m watching you’ gesture at him, glaring suspiciously.

“Oh, you’re one to talk, missy!” 

“Mom-off.” Claude whispers.

Allegra interrupts the silent dispute of stares, “Alright, both of you have made your point, but I’d like to point out that while neither of you are in perfect health-” Allan makes a noise of protest, but Allegra raises an eyebrow to silence him as she continues, “Marinette is the only one here with a temperature, so…” She trails off, her statement clear. 

Marinette’s response is to stick out her tongue defiantly, Allan mimics her.

“‘M fine.” The girl insists.

“Sure.”

“I consider it unlikely that you will be able to stay awake any significant amount of time in your current state.” 

---

Despite Felix’s guess, Marinette managed to stay awake for a few more hours. Not that they tried to keep her up, or even that she was really trying to stay awake, she just couldn’t sleep. They’d moved downstairs and were watching movies on the couch when Adrien arrived.

“Hey, I got done early. How are you guys?”

“Allegra, Felix and I are average, and currently keeping an eye on the two that are in denial, which is Allan - who took a nap so he’s better - and little miss I-fell-in-a-snowdrift over here - who refuses to sleep. Or she just can’t.”

“Alright. Mari, how long did you sleep?” Adrien looks to her.

“Yes.” Is all he gets as a response from her. She’s clearly exhausted, but sleepy is a different story.

“How are you? I’ve got pitchforks at the ready for your father.” Allegra asks.

“I’m fine.” He shrugs.

Marinette isn’t having any of that. She points a finger at him and says, “Eat.”

Allan checks the time, “Actually, we should probably all eat somethin’.” 

“Alright! Snack time!”

“A meal would likely be a better idea.” Felix interrupts.

“Food time!”

“That works.” Everyone gets something to eat, though Marinette only takes a noticeably small amount of fruit, but no one comments. She’s also given water, which she forgot to get for herself. They finish eventually, moving back to the couch. Marinette is between Adrien and Claude. She isn’t focusing much on the screen due to her exhaustion.

She wants to sleep, but she can’t. Whether due to ladybug-habits, or just being sick she isn’t sure.

The tired girl frowns, she really wants to sleep. Everything hurts and she feels terrible. Not to mention how cold it is. It’s winter, and snowy, and it’s cold and she’s tired.

Well, maybe it isn’t so cold. Especially with all these people. Hibernating in groups is a good idea, and this is a group.

Wait, humans don’t hibernate.

Whatever. Adrien is here too, and he’s always warm, and she’s still tired.

Her eyes keep slipping closed. She’s so focused on the fact that she can’t sleep, that she doesn’t realize that she’s finally on the edge of it.

Adrien does. He sees how often her eyes are closing, and purrs softly - not enough for the others to hear - that would be hard to explain - but enough that he knows that the girl leaning on him will be able to tell.

As he expected, her eyes begin to stay closed for longer, before she eventually dozes off entirely. 

He doesn’t stop purring, not wanting to risk waking her up. He’s glad she’s finally gotten back to sleep. It’s for the best. She needs rest.

---

Author’s Note: Babys. Love these ones.

I'm not entirely satisfied with some of the dialogue in this chapter, but I don't have time to edit it. I'm sorry if you don't like it either.

These past few chapters have been really calm. It'd be a shame if some angst got in.Hey, look who remembered it was Saturday! I can't take all the credit for that, there's been plans coming up for today and so since I know today's the day, I also know that I should be updating. Woo! Not updating at 8:00 pm this time buddies! Speaking of those plans (starting a DnD campaign if you're curious, I'm excited), I probably won't be able to respond to comments as quickly do to that. I've mentioned it before, but I have a seperate account for writing (thanks anxiety), and all the things I'd need for the campaign are on my personal account. After I update I usually stick around and write for a few hours so that I can respond quickly, but I'm not sure how long I'll be able to do that. It depends on how early I get this up I suppose. Anyways, I may be able to respond via my phone, but I promise I'll still be responding to comments, it might just be delayed. I love talking to you guys!

Uhh, I feel like there was something else I was going to add in, but my little tangent made me forget. Oh well, I can edit this once I remember.

Thanks for reading! Feel free to leave any thoughts, theories, constructive criticism, or anything really in my ask box, in replies or through reblogs. I love seeing what you think!

First | Previous | Saturday

[scenariosofkonoha]

How would Naruto be like when his daughter is dating someone? And how would he react to her getting her first period? If you can answer this, please.

Hey Anon! It was my pleasure to answer this! It was fun to think of Naruto this way. He’s just a dad doing his best. Thank you so much for the ask and I hope you like it! ~ Admin Little Lace 🎀

Dating

Naruto Uzumaki is an optimist through and through. So when he originally found out that he and his wife were expecting a daughter, he was over the moon. No matter the stories and warnings about raising girls, the once knuckle head ninja was undeterred.

“I survived. Sakura and Grandma Tsunade. How bad can it be?”

Answer: He is woefully unprepared.

From the moment the newborn squinted at him, he was wrapped around her little finger. She was his precious baby girl, the light of his life. A perfect little angel that could do no wrong, and would remain that way

So when she turned 5 and declared:

“I have a boyfriend”

The man damn near had a heart attack.

“B-b…boyfriend?” the “well feared” shinobi squealed.

“Uh-huh,” the whisker-marked girls spoke, rocking from heel to toe restlessly. “I love him, you know?” the more excited the miniature Uzumaki grew, so paler did her father. The girl’s mother was no help, covering her laughter at her husband’s expense.

“Boyfriend?”

“Yes daddy,”

“Boyfriend?” he parroted now to his wife who rolled her eyes.

“Yes love,”

“Who?” he frantically asked his daughter pulling her. She smiled brightly, mistaking the man’s panic for enthusiasm.

“Kiba,”

It takes Naruto a few stressful minutes to assess that it’s just “puppy love” (A term he was not thrilled with) and it was not serious.

This didn’t stop him from giving the Inuzuka a dirty look every now and again.

Since this incident occured Naruto didn’t freak out to much when he caught wind of any of the girl’s crushes. The girl’s boy crazy stage not breaking the man as everyone would have thought.

And yet each boy strangely became afraid of the jinchuriki Something about the dark look in his eye. Weird, you know?

Naruto is very protective over his daughter. He wants her to live her best life, he wants her to be happy. But he knows what boys her age think about. Probably better than most.

Jiraya was his sensei after all. He remembers training on those “research trips”. And he would be damned if any over sexed boys even so much as thought about his daughter in such a way.

Yet it isn’t exactly all consuming fear, they don’t think Naruto will hurt them. In any other respect the Hokage is well loved and admired. But if an eye even wanders in her direction, a dark essence comes from the friendly nin that resembles some sort of demon.

With all provisions on making sure his daughter was safe, and every boy on her team and in her class was afraid of him, he is taken a back when she comes to him with a request.

“Dad, I want you to mean someone.”

“Sure, honey.” he answered half heartedly. His attention stolen by the stack of mission reports. The hokage’s daughter looked to his advisor. Shikamaru gave a heavy sigh, rolling his eyes.

“Naruto, don’t you want to know who it is?” the shadow-nin prompted, trying his best to pull his friend from his work.

“Of course,” the words not holding much weight with his head buried in work. ‘Who is it?”

“My boyfriend,” For a solid half a minute the seventh Hokage continued with his work. His companion’s watch as his eyes scanned the scroll. Then suddenly he stopped, attention shifting quickly to the kunoichi. Blue eyes slowly squinting before popping open fair too wide.

“Boyfriend?”

“Yep,” the girl answered. This was a far cry from her five old excitement. There was an easy smile and something else…a glow, his little girl had a glow. Naruto’s stomach dropped.

“Who?”

“You wouldn’t know him,” the chunin’s smiled formed into knowing smirk. “He’s from Suna,”

The littlest Uzumaki isn’t stupid. Though it may have taken time, she could figure out what her father was doing. It starts to make sense when every time her team reported for a mission they went from smiles to pale faces and averted eyes. So it was only natural that anyone she showed real interest in was more than likely going to be from another village all together.

Naruto, for his part, doesn’t know what to do. Between working to keep the boys away and keeping his daughter safe. He hadn’t planned for when she actually had a boyfriend.

The Shinobi is the father that forgets his daughter isn’t a child anymore. Successful Kunoichi? Yes. Capable woman? Debatable but yes. But she was still his little girl. Who was dating…

Was he prepared for that?

“Soo…you’ll meet him?” he supposed he’d have to be.

“Sure, I will.”

Naruto will give that boy the hardest of times. If they are a ninja he will pull his file. If they are a civilian he has had the ANBU make a file. He’ll know everything there is to know about his daughters new beau. Said new beau would probably already be nervous to begin with in meeting the Hokage. The Jinchuriki would insure that he would be constantly on edge, testing to see if he is worthy.

It may be a bit excessive, and more that intimidating. But chances are it won’t last long very long. At his core, the blond-nin is a kind soul. Whoever has his daughter’s heart, there is a high probability he’ll grown to like him too. He wants his daughter. and if this person make her happy, who is he to stop that?

This being said, the person that breaks her heart is in for it. Nothing on this planet will save the from the wrath of Naruto Uzumaki. Nothing. And with his tenacity, they wouldn’t be able to hide either.

1st Period

As a boy, there was no reason, in his mind, why Naruto would need to know about the female body. He was given the talk and knew where babies came from, but didn’t understand all the mechanics.

And he didn’t really get it when his S/O explained it when they started dating. Hence his infamous:

“Oh, you’re on your period!”

That he exclaimed in front of Kami and all his witnesses in the market. He hadn’t meant to embarrass her. They both knew that. But still they had decided after their daughter was born that his wife would cover the discussion of that subject.

So it came as a surprise when, just his luck, his wife was on a mission when the gift of nature arrived.

“Hey sweetie you feeling okay?” the man’s sleep graveled voice croaked as he poured her cereal  into the bowl. Turning her head from it’s place resting on the table, her eyes met his. Placing the back of his head on her head the shinobi observed her. She wasn’t warm but her eyes were a bit unfocused.

“Not really my stomach feels weird.”

It had started of with her just not feeling well. But with no visible signs of illness the man isn’t see what to do. Naruto can be a bit of a worry wart when it come to his child. To make sure she is alright, he even tries to work from home. Not amount of work would allow him to leave her alone, especially when her mother is away from the village.

Not knowing but she has he just has her rest. He’ll check up on her every so often. Since she has never felt this before she can’t explain it, concerning him all the more. The mystery makes him a bit anxious. If she gets any worse he promises to call grandma Tsunade.

Upon checking on her one more time, he receives a shock.

“I think I’m bleeding.”

Being a survivor of a war, Naruto begins frantically looking for a wound. When he doesn’t see an outward one, and paired with his daughter’s uncomfortable look, it dawns on the blond-nin what is going on.

To the best of his ability he will try to explain what is going on with her body. He doesn’t understand the terminology fully and keeps doubling back to describing things. It is painful to listen to but humor to watch the savior of the village try to get his bearings.

After a bit her realizes the problem at hand and tries to handle it. His “handling” of it is going through a box of feminine products and reading the directions out loud as he figures out how to help. After failing to explain tampons without sounding confusing her instructs on pads.

“Sticky side down,”

His performance bringing laughter from his already dumb founded daughter. For Naruto laughter is good. She can’t freak out or cry if he makes her laugh. Laughing himself brings ease as he goes to reassess the situation. By reassess he means send a clone to go to Tsunade to help with the strange stomach pains.

When the clone goes to consult Lady 5th, the main body does what he can for his daughter. Taking from what he would do for his wife, He gives her tea and a heating pad wrapping her in a blanket.

Not knowing what else to do, he sits with her, doing his best to make her comfortable. Her father has been busy lately he takes the time to catch up with his daughter. The whisker-marked duo filling each other in on the smaller events that had transpired as of late.

The clone returns with herbal tea and a bottle of medicinal herbs for the “stomach ache” that Tsunade correct informs him are called cramps. The former hokage also informs him that she’ll be over after her game.

The instructions are simple enough, now all Naruto has to do is figure out how much to give her.

“It goes by weight,” the man read the note looking down at the bottle. “So…um how much do you weigh?”

“How much is it per pound?” the be-whiskered girl questioned back. Her father frowned as he concentrated a little too hard on the note. The man’s elongated “Uh…” made his daughter less likely to take anything he was giving her.

Being a jinchuriki sort of cancels out the need for run of the mill medicines. So unfortunately Naruto has no clue how to administer the proper (and non-lethal) amount of medicine.

Another clone is sent to Sakura. This one returns with all of the herbs separated into doses with instructions on when and how many times it can be taken.

After quite a while, when her card game had ended (and she was broke), Tsunade came to check in on the girl. The Lady 5th finds bother her and her father past out on the couch. The low coffee table covered in empty ramen cups forgetting chocolate wrappers and sticks from Popsicles. All of them signs that the 7th Hokage had tried his absolute best to make his daughter feel better.

Tomorrow the Sanin would check in on pseudo-granddaughter. For now she would let the two of them sleep.