#AIR PEGASUS WAVE | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

piss-pumpkin · 8 months ago

Text

Bad dreams (Percy x reader)

Child of Hypnos reader, ~4.5k words, set ambiguously after pjo, the request was enemies to lovers so I sincerely apologize. Masterlist

Capture the flag. It was a game of epic highs and lows, winner and losers, all to decide who wore the crown. Until next week, that is. And nobody took it more seriously than Annabeth, determined to win and keep her indestructible reputation as the best strategist around. She was in the war room, taking this very seriously, and discussing with her right hand man before the team.

Percy groaned, dramatically dropping his head on the table, half pushing off the map. “Annabeth, why?” He complained, hand waving in the air to communicate the distain that she couldn’t see in his face.

Annabeth sighed, taking her head in her hands. “I know you don’t like them,” she started calmly, crossing the floor to Percy to pat his back gently. “But the Hypnos cabin is an asset, between all of them, we can have half the enemy team asleep,” she said, ever pragmatic.

Percy was not a fan of her reasoning, as sound as it was. Unfortunately for him, the head counsellor of the Hypnos cabin was you. And You and Percy? He didn’t even want to think about. No idea why you decided not to like him upon meeting, even less of an idea how it’s escalated as far as it has. “Wise girl, have mercy,” he whined, standing up straight again. “Putting me in a room with them is a sure fire way to lose.”

Annabeth pursed her lips. “That might be true,” she started, circling the table, eyes the pieces she set dramatically to represent each of her forces. One or two Hypnos campers per squad to weaken the enemy. “But they’re essential to the plan, just… you’ll be in different areas, if all goes well.”

Percy grumbled. Things never went well.

As the battle drew closer, the allied cabins assembled to hear the more polished version of Annebeths plan. And of course, that meant you at the table, front and centre, your forces being an essential part of the strategy. Great. You always listened to Annabeth, even though she was always sticking up for him. And she managed to get you on the same team, even when you knew that guy you hated would be there.

You nodded along with the details, assigning siblings you thought best for each task. You seemed a lot nicer with them.

You conferred with your cabin, and offered another plan to Annabeth. Percy wasn’t completing focused, because when you were done, he had no idea what you’d said. Annabeth seemed to be a fan though. She nodded along, and adjusted the prices on her map while you have people notes and alternate delegations.

An order to each cabin head. All except him. He glanced around at each counsellor telling their cabin mates what they should do, and he cringed. You’d instructed everyone else. “Uh,” he started looking to you because Annabeth was busy talking to the Apollo counsellor. “Does my job change at all?”

You pursed your lips, smiling just slightly. “No, I guess I didn’t have anything for you,” you said slyly. “But isn’t jumping in without thinking kind of your whole thing? Just roll with that, yeah?”

Percy’s face flattened as he sighed. He needed somebody else, “Annabeth?” He asked.

She turned to him, and thought for a moment. “They might have a point,” she said curiously, much to his detest. Percy grumbled as she continued. “Using you as a wild card might be beneficial, especially because you can take large groups of them at once.”

Great. No job, and more work, somehow. And you were smiling, a bit too satisfied with yourself and his annoyance. Why was it always like this?

…

There was one time when Percy was sparring with Clarisse, and they got a little too heated, and it ended up with Clarisse on Pegasus cleanup duty, and Percy teaching sword classes for a week. Definitely the lighter punishment, considering he liked the job. Chiron always went a little easy on him. But there were layers to this punishment. Primarily: you.

When Percy was approaching, he saw you, and sighed. You were there first, already talking to the younger campers, wide smile on your face and holding a weapon. Ugh. Of course he had the misfortune of fucking up the same time as you. Okay. This week was actually going to be terrible.

“Hey, sorry I’m late,” he said, jogging up to you and the campers. You’d just finished some sort of introduction, it was the perfect time to slide in. The youngest kid looked maybe ten, and had a dagger in her hand. She was little small for the real swords. The kids were looking up at him, faces blank or curious, and you were side eyeing him, brow raised, completely unimpressed. Yeah, he should probably do something interesting.

“Yeah, you sure were,” you laughed sarcastically, sounding just nice enough for the kids not to pick up on your distain.

Percy grimaced. Great start. With a deep breath, he did his best to recover, running his hands through his hair nervously. “Well, I’m here now, so,” he said, looking at the younger campers. Grinning, and ignoring your cold stare, he uncapped Riptide, and a few kids gasped. “How about we get to the fun stuff?”

He spared you a glance, catching you roll your eyes at him. This was not going to be a good week. Quite possibly the worst punishment Chiron could’ve given him.

It’s hard to teach as a team when you can’t get along for a second. And all the kids noticed, and did their best to egg you on. Percy was fighting for his life harder than he had on several quests, until the very last minutes of the time slot. Thank the gods it was only like, an hour. Even if it was one of the longest hours of his life.

And he wasn’t even spared when it was over.

“Of course we fucked up on the same week” you sighed, picking up a carelessly discarded sword. “Let me guess, something boring…” you started, walking idly toward the weapons rack with a handful of blades. “Like what, blowing up the bathroom again? Or sneaking out of camp for a quest?”

Hmm. Low blow. Though not completely unwarranted. “No, much cooler than that,” Percy sighed, rolling his eyes as he kicked up some dust from the arena floor. “Beating up Clarisse.”

You scoffed, “somehow I doubt that.”

And you weren’t exactly wrong. It was more of a mutual beating up, in a sort of frenemy way, Percy was the first to admit. But not to you. “Hey, you should see her,” he chided. “There’s cold hard proof.”

You bumped his shoulder on the way out of the arena, sighing. “Maybe I will, I could get some tips on kicking your ass,” you said, raising your brow.

By the time he thought of a good-ish response, you were too far away to hear, and he was kicking himself for letting you get the last word. He glanced around the empty arena dumbly. It looked like you finished the cleanup while he just stood there, another point you had on him now. The punishment may not have been a competition, but you seemed to be winning thus far. Shit.

And it only gets worse from there.

He managed to come early the second day, a full fifteen minutes to get warmed up, and think about what could be good to teach the newbies. And he had the arena all to himself to slash dummies in the exact way he’d instruct them to do later.

“Clarisse told me Chiron intervening is all that saved you from getting sent to the infirmary,” you said.

Percy jumped, Riptide nearly falling out of his hand. When the fuck did you get here? He hadn’t heard you at all. Sneaky bitch. He turned to face you when he recovered from his shock, “yeah, well, she couldn’t admit she lost a fight if there was a gun to her head.”

You didn’t look sold. You raised your brow, “could you?”

He pursed his lips. He wanted to say something like, yes, duh! But quickly realized it might be a lie. To most people he could, but admitting defeat to you felt much worse. Like it would confirm all your doubts or apprehensions about him, or whatever your grudge was. He decided a little lie wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. “I could,” he said casually, slashing a combat dummies head.

He didn’t see your face as you hummed lowly with disapproval. Probably for the better.

Or so he thought, because as you were walking towards the dummy beside his, he started to feel drowsy. His slashes got slower as his arms felt heavier, like they were weighing him down. He looked at you, and immediately wanted to lie down and pass out. Ugh. Your subtle smirk told him you knew exactly what you were doing. And it only escalated when the kids started to arrive.

You started the lesson off assertively. While he was struggling to blink with his heavy eyelids. “If you have any cool demigod abilities, you should totally use them literally whenever you can,” you said, pointing your weapon enthusiastically at the campers.

Percy couldn’t help but watch in slight awe as you engrossed them all. You narrowed in on a son of Apollo, your blade staring him down as you told him he should get comfortable using healing abilities in a fight. You seemed to have a suggestion for everyone; the daughter of Hectate should use the mist, a Demeter kid should try and use vines, your Hypnos brother should use… sleep powers. Percy knew about those all too well.

Percy had to admit he was jealous of the way they seemed excited about your ideas. Did they really like you more than him? It wasn’t that he felt bad not being liked, he was plenty used to that in all the schools he went to. It was more that it was you. The way you showed a nicer side to seemingly everyone but him. His body still felt like it was made of lead.

You had some blind spots though. Not everyone had powers, Percy guessed, watching a couple Athena kids rolling their eyes or looking at the ground. “I hate to interject,” Percy started, stealing your and the kids attention again. “But this is weapons training, there are other classes for using abilities.” Plus, maybe you’d stop using yours if they got back on focus.

”Hey, I’m teaching them how to fight better, isn’t that the goal?” You shot back. You seemed to catch the way his eyes were lingering on the kids without abilities. “Even if you don’t have any specific powers,” you said, turning back to the campers, “if we start using them, you’ll learn how to counter them, and kick our asses better.”

Percy sighed. You seemed pretty stuck on this. He tiredly uncapped Riptide, and pointed at it. “Weapons class, Y/n. Let’s focus on using weapons,” he said.

You shifted your lips around, maybe chewing on them, and then seemed to have a thought. Unfortunately. You smiled at the kids, “yeah, well, Percy doesn’t always use his abilities to the fullest when he fights,” you said. “Maybe don’t take his lead too much.”

Ugh. “Well, it’s not always as easy as some people make it look,” he said, gesturing at you. “Not everyone has powers, and some people get drained easily by theirs. For me, I can’t always rely on there being water around me.”

You crossed your arms, raising your brow, and actually looked at him this time. “You know what people are made of, right?”

The kids were listening intently, some snickering and smirking to themselves. A couple seemed annoyed that the training was paused just so the teachers could bitch at each other. Percy sighed, “yeah, no, I don’t want to do that. I think that was an episode of Avatar: the last airbender.”

You rolled your eyes, scoffing. “Well you might win more fights if you did,” you said snidely. Your eyes lowered a moment as you lowered your voice with a bitter tone, “I hate the idea of you going easy on me.”

Before Percy could respond with a retort of his own, you’d dropped the mean act and completely focused on the kids, upbeat and happy. You clapped your hands together, and shot them a wide smile, “how about a demonstration, guys?”

Aw shit. The kids lit up, nodding along as you continued. “How about me and Percy have a little match, and we see who wins, yeah?” You said, grinning at him. Ugh. It wasn’t a secret that people said he was the best swordsman at camp, but you were a head counsellor too. And even if he could stab you, he probably shouldn’t in front of the kids anyway.

He had started to tune you out, but got snapped back to reality when he heard his name. “Percy, are you down?” You asked with faux sweetness. Ugh. Percy sucked a breath in through his teeth, and sighed. “Uh-Sure,” he said cautiously.

You grinned, and the kids stepped back and whispered to each other. Yeah, they definitely picked up on your rivalry. They waited restlessly, probably excited to see the climax of your mutual dislike. Like the fight was inevitable. He uncapped Riptide with a sigh, and raised the blade as you shooed the kids to step further back. He took a fighting stance, raising his blade at the ready. Just great. Your aura of tiredness or whatever was affecting him seemed to get worse. Yeah, he might be fucked without water.

You smirked, twirling a weapon of your own between your fingers and glancing at your audience happily, chest puffed out in self satisfaction. “Do you want to count us down?” you asked the kids, grinning.

They nodded along, three, and Percy sighed, eying the water bottle he had off to the side. If he could get it then maybe... whatever. Maybe if he beat you, you’d lay off. Two. Or, if you won, you could get ten times worse. One. There was no good outcome. And it’s not like either of you could maim each other with the kids watching.

Ugh. Still weighed down by an impossible spell of drowsiness, Percy started to lunge forward, sword ready to slash in an arc above his head. But then he looked at you. And you looked at him. And you were shooting him a finger gun, and Percy was out cold, without enough time to grumble or complain about it. Well shit.

Like most times he slept, he was dreaming. Nightmares, specifically. At least he felt no godly presence, or anything sinister. Today, it was Annabeth and Grover dead on the floor, with Kronos in Luke’s body glaring at him from the sidelines. And then it was just Luke, looking at him sadly, approaching him, and then asking why he let his sister die. Percy didn’t have an answer.

Nightmare Luke wasn’t a fan of that. Suddenly he was turning back into Kronos and raising Backbiter, and Percy was completely unable to move, paralyzed by fear, sadness, and bitter anger. Great. Just great.

But Luke didn’t swing. He stopped, eyes cloudy and blank, and the bodies faded away. Was his subconscious being nice today? Luke stepped back, and his sword has vanished, and the scene was fading fast.

Percy was awake. He grumbled, not wanting to open his eyes. His head was in the dirt, body completely weighed down by his own exhaustion. The arena floor wasn’t the worst place he could’ve fallen, at least. He grumbled, sat up, and rubbed his eyes until they opened.

You were still there, Percy’s eyes flew open, shaking any lingering tiredness. He scooted back just slightly. You were sitting beside him, head rested in hands and lips pursed. “Uhh,” he stuttered, scooting back further. “You’re uh, still hanging out here?” A quick glance showed the kids were gone, and the lesson had been over for a while.

”You have some of the worst nightmares I’ve seen, dude,” you said simply, shifting your head from hands to hand. “I’m… sorry, I didn’t- I didn’t mean to snoop.”

Percys brow furrowed. What? You looked apprehensive, but your words didn’t seem malicious in the slightest. He stopped scooting back, but he held his arm up defensively between you, unsure why. You didn’t have a weapon. “It’s… fine. Was it you that… ended it?” He asked tentatively.

You nodded. “It didn’t seem fun,” you said quietly. You looked away, hiding your face in a palm, “Sorry for putting you in there, I guess,” you said. “I’ll try to avoid sleeping you, if you want.”

Percy looked at you quizzically, jaw hung slightly open, more than confused. You were being nice. That’s crazy. He wasn’t sure how to act. Every word he said was laced with hesitation and the slightest bit of a stutter. “Thanks, I guess,” he mumbled, scratching the back of his neck. “Appreciate it.”

You nodded, and a slightly sealed silence fell over the woods as you refused to look at him. But you didn’t stand up to leave yet either.

“Hey, Y/n, can I ask,” he started, sitting up straighter and crossing his legs. “Usually you hate me…” he said, almost wincing. “Do you… not, today?”

That got your attention, and your eyes were burning through him. Your brow furrowed, and softened, your mouth opened and then closed, you looked away, then back at him, and then sighed. “I don’t hate you, Percy,” you admitted, sounding abjectly defeated.

That got an involuntary “huh?” Out of him. You totally hated him. That was just a fact.

You sighed, and shook your head, turning back away from him. You tone was far lighter this time, “no, I don’t hate you, I just- I don’t know,” you said.

”Then why-“ Percy started dumbly, but quickly trailed off, unsure how to make his question less rude. There didn’t seem to be an obvious answer. “Why are you like this,” he asked, cringing at his own callousness.

You snickered, looking at him with a slight and awkward smile. You shrugged, and looked back at the woods. Percy didn’t speak, he barely breathed, waiting for any sort of a signal from you. Somehow, it worked. You sighed , and stretched your legs in front of you and said, “I don’t know.” You paused, probably thinking. “It just comes naturally, I guess.”

Percy hummed.

“That came out mean, didn’t it,” you laughed softly.

“Like most things you say,” he laughed, but quickly trailed off. “Sorry.”

You smiled hesitantly, looking over at him with softer eyes than he usually sees on you. “No, that was deserved,” you said.

Percy smiled, and then raised his brow, surprising himself. That didn’t happen when he talked to you, this was fresh territory. Before he could respond, you were standing, and for the first time, offering him a hand up. And for the first time, he took it.

You pulled him to his feet, but didn’t look at him, curtly turning your head away as he stood in front of you. Percy couldn’t help but snicker under his breath. You seemed intent on staring at a tree.

”Hey,” Percy started, brushing his hair out of his face. “Do you wanna go get on the same page about what we’re teaching them tomorrow so we don’t have a repeat of today?” He asked. He got a little scared when you finally looked at him, but you didn’t seem angry. And if anybody knew your angry face it was him. “We’ll probably be better teachers if we actually work together on it.”

You hesitated, raising your brow. “Uh, really?” You stuttered, crossing your arms and shrinking into yourself.

Percy sighed. He was doing this, he’d committed now. For better or worse. “Yeah,” he nodded, with a friendly smile. “Why not? Let’s go get lunch or something.”

Percy wasn’t sure how well his olive branch was working. Your lips were pursed and arms still crossed, but.. the ever so familiar scowl you often showed him was absent from your lips. That could be good. You looked at the ground, then back to him, “yeah, okay.”

And here he was braced for rejection and an insult. Small victories. Percy grinned, nodding his head in the general direction of the dining pavilion, “then let’s go.”

You nodded, and walked quietly beside him as he started for the path. Okay, a little awkward silence was nothing, that was still a win. Miles better than where he was this morning. Or even like, an hour ago. So Percy was inclined to try and bridge the gap. “The kids are gonna be really surprised when we actually work together, tomorrow,” he laughed. Careful words, when, not if.

He caught in his peripheral the tug of your lips upward into the slightest of smiles. “They’ll never see it coming,” you said. Maybe like a joke. Wow, was this actually working? You let out a small laugh, “neither did I.”

Percy but the inside of his cheek to suppress a smile. That made two of you, because this was the last thing Percy expected too. “Yeah,” he started. “Not bad though.”

For the first time in a good minute, you met his eyes, and his attention was drawn. You didn’t normally look at him like that. It was a… nice change pace. You sighed, “No, not the worst.” You swished your cheeks around a moment as you paused, but didn’t say more. And Percy would be lying to himself if he tried thinking he wasn’t a little disappointed. It almost looked like you were gonna say something nice. Well, maybe not the worst was nice enough. For you, at least.

”Percy, I’m really sorry about those nightmares,” you said finally, looking at the ground.

Ah. That. Percy didn’t tell all that many people about his shit dreams. It was kind of a given that most people at camp got them, in some capacity at least. But he did his best to project a lighthearted image, especially when he was with the younger campers. “Oh,” he said dumbly.

“If you want, I can help with those,” you offered quietly.

Now that caught Percy’s attention. He raised his brow, “You can do that?” And he didn’t ask his other question: you would do that? Like, for him?

You looked up at him, then back to the ground as the two of you approached the dining pavilion. “Yeah, Hypnos stuff,” you mumbled. “I do it for some other people too.”

Oh gods, you felt bad for him. That was a weird thought. “Oh- you don’t have to do that,” he started, suddenly far more embarrassed. So that’s why you were being nice. Suddenly it didn’t feel as good as before.

You looked up at him with wider eyes now, and bit the inside of your cheek. “Well, if you ever change your mind.”

Something about your pity didn’t sit right with him, even if was glad you didn’t look like you wanted to bite his head off. This look, the feeling sorry for him face, was somehow worse. “I won’t,” he snapped, sounding meaner than he meant. Or maybe he did mean it, in his bitterness he couldn’t tell. “You don’t need to pretend to like me now that you feel bad.”

You brow furrowed, and that pity look was gone in an instant. “Hey asshole, I was just offering to help,” you spat. Now this was more familiar. You crossed your arms at your chest as you walked. “Thought about being nice for once.”

”Yeah, for once,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Because now you feel bad.”

”Oh shut up,” you said, shaking your head with a glare. You stopped just short of the pavilion. “You aren’t special because you get nightmares, idiot, half the camp does,” you said, stepping closer to him. He was inclined to back away. “I’ve seen worse.”

Percy took another step back. There was a few stray campers sitting in the pavilion watching curiously, now.

“But sure, go ahead,” you said, hands animating with your words. He flinched a moment as you halfway gripped the air. “Keep having your shit dreams, I don’t care.”

“Then why did you offer,” he spat back.

You looked at him like he was an idiot, shaking your head. “Because nightmares suck, nobody deserves that shit,” you said, like it was obvious. “Not even a stuck up asshole who thinks he’s better then everyone.”

What? Percy stood dumbly for a moment while your sharp glare subsided into a duller scowl. Did he really come off like that? “I’m not-“ he started, but quickly gave up. As much as he wanted to insult you back, half the things you said were genuinely pretty nice. You were right, nobody deserved that.

You scoffed, “sure you’re not,” you said bitterly.

The two do you stood silently for a moment. And a few moments more. The couple of campers watching awkwardly tried to go back to eating. The lunch plans the two of you made seemed so far in the past now. Same with the idea of getting in the same page.

Percy spoke first. “I don’t- I don’t think like that,” he said lamely.

”No, you’re just the hero of Olympus, who goes on all the quests, who the gods tried to give immortality too,” you said. But the malice was gone. “You’re the reason I even have a cabin here,” you said quietly.

Percy winced. How do you explain to somebody that going on all those quests… wasn’t always great. It stopped being amazing when more lives were at risk, the stakes got higher, people died. A lot of the time all the glory kind of sucked. “Well it’s… not all it’s cracked up to be,” Percy managed. “I mean, you saw the aftermath.”

”Yeah,” you said, looking at the ground. “That’s why I thought.. you might not be how I thought.” You looked up, expression made of stone. “But at least you’re… I don’t know,” you trailed off, “I think I’d still rather be somebody, even if it sucks.”

Percy half heartedly laughed through his nose, “Usually I feel the opposite, it would’ve been easier to be a kid of some minor god.”

”Grass is always greener, I guess,” you sighed.

“You are somebody, though,” Percy said, realizing he should probably address that. The idea that you were insecure seemed so alien. The way you insulted him always seemed so confident. “You don’t need a ton of quests or fights to prove that.”

You rolled your eyes, a weak smile was forming on your lips, “well, that’s easy for you to say. I’m only here, and claimed, and in a cabin because you made the gods pay their child support.”

Percy smiled softly, gesturing his head to the tables at the pavilion. He started to walk as he spoke, “that’s the gods, that’s their problem,” he said, grabbing a plate to fill with the magic food with you behind him. “You’re more then the gods approval.”

He had to look back to see if you were still there, the way you went quiet. You grabbed a plate, and followed him to a table, all with that stone faced look. Not pity or malice, this time. When you sat down beside him, you finally cracked. “Thanks,” you managed, staring ruefully at your food.

“It’s true,” Percy said.

You looked up at him, a slight smile on your lips this time. “Thanks,” you said, more confidently.

“Are you still up for helping me with the nightmares?”

This request haunted me for like over a month cuz I couldn’t get anything out of it for a while. I wasn’t gonna post here but I ended up happier with it then I thought tho. Can you tell I never write enemies to lovers? I usually hate that trope lmao. Anyway part 2 coming maybe.

#x reader #my writing #percy jackson x you #percy jackson fanfiction #percy jackson #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x y/n #pjo x reader #pjo

197 notes · View notes

coupsie-daisies · 6 months ago

Text

Kinktober '23: Pussy Eating | Kim Taehyung

Pairing: Kim Taehyung x Fem!Reader

Genre: Smut (minors DO NOT interact), friends to lovers

Summary: Getting high with Taehyung was a very common occurrence. Him getting jealous and eating you out while you're high off your ass is most definitely not

WC: 3.3k

Warnings: Explicit use of weed, shotgunning, oral (fem receiving), mentions of alcohol maybe, overstimulation if you squint, multiple orgasms, jealousy, Jungkook is touchy when he's high

A/N: Self indulgence at its finest. Let me know what you think, reblogs and comments are appreciated!!

Tags: @dragonofthenorth0726 // @wooyussy // @burningupp-replies // @bunnypig18 // @decaffedthoughts // @brownieracha // @ferrethyun // @snow-pegasus // @wonuqrtz // @mixling-blog // @wonwooz1

Main Masterlist

Kinktober '23 Masterlist

This fanfiction is property of @/coupsie-daisies, reposting on any other platform is prohibited

You didn't like parties. They were loud, and every surface was contaminated with some sort of inexplicably sticky...something. But you did like getting high, and you especially liked getting high with your favorite smoking buddy. Unfortunately for you, that generally meant crashing one of Hoseok's parties on the weekends and pushing your way through sweaty crowds and spilled drinks to find him.

So yet again, here you were, wasting a Saturday evening as you stepped through the doors of Hoseok's unreasonably large house. You knew his family had money, but was it necessary to flaunt it all the time? The music was heavy, and the haze of smoke filled the room as soon as the door swung open to welcome you in. It wasn't Hoseok that opened it, instead you found a glaringly sober Yoongi standing there with an exhausted look on his face. He didn't like these parties either, but he loved Hobi, so you supposed he ended up getting roped into them for the same reasons you did.

His expression changed to one of relief when he saw you, welcoming you inside and closing the door behind you.

"Didn't think you were coming tonight," He said, leaning closer to you to be heard over the music. He guided you through the crowd with a barely there hand on your back. You shrugged.

"Didn't plan on it, but I had a shit week and I'm out. Gonna steal some of Tae's good stuff," You said. Yoongi nodded knowingly. You tried really hard to keep your feelings to yourself. After all, Taehyung wasn't the settling down sort. He wasn't a manwhore like people seemed to think, but he made it exceedingly clear that he wasn't ready to be tied down, and as his friend first and foremost, you respected that.

"He was out back last time I saw him," Yoongi said. "Do you want me to look for him?"

You shook your head, giving Yoongi a half hug before parting ways and diving even deeper into the crowded sitting room. You could see the beer pong table set up in the corner like always, spying Seokjin and a few of his friends gathered around it, clearly a couple of rounds deep. You decided to avoid that chaos, making straight for the kitchen, and squeezing out onto the patio past the couple that decided that the doorway was the perfect place to suck face.

Even though you'd only been in the house for a matter of minutes, the warm summer air was a welcome sensation, freeing you from the stuffy, alcohol fumed house. You scanned the yard, spotting Taehyung and Jungkook with a handful of others over by the pool. You didn't want to interrupt, and fully considering saying fuck your goals of getting high off your ass in the guest bedroom and just going home. But then he saw you, and his flirty smirk turned into a full bodied grin. He waved you over, and then it was over. Your legs were moving before you could even try to argue. You'd never been good at arguing with him anyway.

He slipped out of the way, making space between himself and Jungkook for you to settle between them. The younger boy grinned, wrapping an arm around you in a half greeting, clearly having already indulged in something or other to loosen him up. Then he was back to flirting with the pretty girl beside him, arm falling to half sit on your waist. You disregarded it, knowing how he was when he was intoxicated.

"You said you weren't gonna come," Taehyung said, immediately passing you the half burnt joint he'd been puffing off of. You took a hit before answering, letting the smoke curl in your lungs and re-introducing yourself to that familiar burn before letting it out again.

"Didn't plan on it. But I'm out of weed, and you're here, so it's not like I had anything better to do." You said. You tried to pass back his joint, but he just waved it off, and you took that as permission to keep going. By the time it was gone, you could already feel your body relaxing, your mind slowing down just the way you liked.

"Well, it's a good thing you came. I was gonna be bored if you didn't. Thought I was gonna have to come to your house after this,"

You rolled your eyes.

"Like I'd let you in, high as hell at four in the damn morning." You scolded him. You could feel your body giving out on you, letting you lean slowly towards Jungkook who was so far gone he didn't even notice. But that meant Taehyung was getting further away. Or it should have, but maybe he was shifting with you, moving until your hips were pressed together, until he was slinging your legs over his lap. That was nice.

"You would. You always let me in." He said. If you were sober, maybe you would have been mad that he'd call you out on your absolutely whipped behavior, but you weren't sober, and it was so much harder to stay mad at him when you were high. He just looked so pretty through your hazy eyes, dark curls around his head like a halo, and big brown eyes that you got so lost in.

"Yeah, maybe. But only you." You confessed, a bout of giggles bursting out afterwards. When had he lit up again? You pouted. "I want some,"

He took a hit, holding out his hand. You took it and let him pull you up. Then his face was getting closer to you, and you almost started away, but his hand was behind your head, pressing you closer. His lips slotted over yours. The hand that had been steadying your head came down, stroking his fingertips along your jaw, then thumbing at your bottom lip, guiding your mouth open. You closed your eyes, letting him exhale the smoke past your lips, slowly breathing it in.

When he pulls away, it feels like all the air in your lungs has been sucked out, and you're not sure if it was from him or the smoke. You let it out again, closing your eyes and trying in your fogged up brain to process what just happened. He was touchy when he was high, overly affectionate and maybe even clingy, but you'd never shotgunned before, never been that close to tasting him. It was fucking with your head. But then he was letting you go, and you leaned back against Jungkook again and the moment had passed. You were too high to notice the way his eyes flicked to his best friend, who was too high to think much about the way he was touching you. Jungkook reached around you again, an arm around your waist, slipping against the skin where your shirt had ridden up ever so slightly. The touch made you jolt, eyes opening again before you giggled and relaxed.

Taehyung, however, couldn't relax. Well, not really. No more than the two joints were letting him. He had thought you'd been getting his hints, that you were reciprocating. But there you were, high off of his shit, and cuddled up to his best friend as if he wasn't the one who you spent all your time with. Taehyung wasn't a jealous person, not really, but sometimes it would bubble deep in his stomach, and rise in his throat and make him feel sick. Only sometimes, and always with you. He stood up, not saying a word to anyone as he headed for the house. He didn't really have a plan, maybe grab a drink? Even though he really wasn't a fan of being crossed. It didn't matter, he just needed to get away.

You felt him move beside you, heard the sound of his footsteps walking away. And as if on instinct, driven by something deeper than conscious thought, you flung yourself to your feet, knocking Jungkook's hand away. He looked at you, but he didn't say anything, just went back to his conversation. The first few steps you took felt as if the world was shifting ever so slightly under your feet, but you caught your balance fast.

"Tae," You called out to him, but he didn't look back, so you called him again. "Taehyung, wait a second."

He didn't. He was a good few strides ahead of you, being swallowed up by the crowd. You huffed, pressing back into the overheated, crushing crowd of bodies in search for him. He never left you like that, especially not at parties. He knew you hated them. Knew you only ever came for him in the first place.

The music was making your brain vibrate in your head, and you had to blink a few times to register the faces in front of you, but before you knew it, there was Yoongi, still looking sober and bored and leaned up against the wall.

"Hey, did you see Tae?" You asked, reaching out for his arm. He wordlessly pointed towards the stairs, and your questions were answered. You thanked him, or at least you thought it, and then you were hauling yourself up the stairs.

It was quieter upstairs. Most people moved towards the basement instead of the upper levels, leaving the personal rooms alone. Only your friend group tended to come up here during the parties. You knocked on Hobi's bedroom door, then opened it to find it empty. The bathroom door was wide open, and empty, so you moved on to the guest room. You knocked, but again there was no answer. You tried the door handle. Locked.

"Taehyung," You whined, knocking on the door again. You could hear the shuffle of the bedding. "Open the door. I don't wanna stand up anymore."

You could see his shadow under the door as he came over, then the lock clicked and it swung open. He had the cutest pout on his face, and you were overwhelmed by the longing to kiss it away. You gathered up all of the self control that you had to not do that.

You didn't speak, just used the weight of your body to nudge him out of the way, pressing your entire self against him until he gave way and you both stumbled in the door with a burst of stifled giggling. You flopped back onto the bed and waited for him to sit down beside you.

"Why did you run away?" You asked, closing your eyes. He didn't answer right away, just traced his fingers against the skin of your forearm. You let him, let each movement sink beneath your skin and join the quiet hum that your body always seemed to let off when he touched you.

"You were with Jungkook. Gave you space," He answered. You opened your eyes, giving him a confused glance.

"I came for you. I always do." You told him. It wasn't like he didn't know that. He must have known the power he held over you, the power he'd held for so long that you couldn't even remember when it started. No, your Taehyung wasn't stupid.

There was another long pause as he laid down beside you, arm slinging heavy over your waist and pulling you closer to him. You turned your head, your noses brushing and his big brown eyes trained on your face. You couldn't breathe then, and you weren't sure if that was the proximity or the way the weed was weighing down your entire body.

"I don't like when other people touch you," He said, shifting so he could prop himself up on his elbow, his face hovering over yours. You watched his gaze drop to your lips, then climb back up to your eyes. "And you were just letting him. Should have been me. Always should be me,"

You couldn't fight off the impulses any longer, your self control slipping through your numbed fingertips, and then you were pulling him down to kiss him. His lips were softer than you imagined, and you could taste the warmth of him under the heady layer of smoke on his tongue. He kissed you back as if it were the last thing he'd ever do. His hand gripped at your waist, pressing you closer to him as he devoured your mouth. It was hungry, but lazy, slow licks and presses of his lips and the occasional suck against your tongue or your lip until you had to pull away. Your mind was fogged up, and you felt dizzy as you tipped your head back against the pillows.

Taehyung couldn't seem to leave his mouth idle, leaning down to suck a mark into the sensitive spot under your jaw. Then he was just kissing your skin, tongue gliding against the skin and swallowing down the closeness you were sharing. His hand didn't move, anchoring you to him and keeping the both of you grounded in the moment.

"Tae," You whined, guiding his mouth back up to yours and he was happy to give you more. You moved your hands down, pushing and tugging at his shirt enough to move it up his stomach, then your hands roamed beneath it, tracing the planes of his stomach, up his chest. He hissed when your fingertips carved slow circles around his nipples.

"Sensitive," He muttered against your lips, and you hummed your acknowledgement, teasing them anyway and soaking up the low hums and moans he let out. It didn't last as long as you wanted, especially considering that feeling the way his body reacted to you was something you'd be more than happy to spend days doing. He sat up, pulling his shirt over his head and then helping you take yours off in turn. His stared at you, eyes dark and heavy as he admired you. Then he was taking your bra off, then stripping your bottom half. Despite the desperation that was so evident in his actions, every move was slow, unhurried, until you were bare underneath him.

His lips spread slow and steady into a grin, and you laughed, the sweetest sound to his ears.

"Can I touch you now?" He asked. You nodded, guiding his large hands back to your skin and letting him explore. He ran them up your stomach, then down to your hips, kneading at your thighs and pushing them open to expose your core to him. He groaned, a look of pure disbelief taking over his face for a moment before he was touching you. There was very little wind up, but he took his time once his fingers brushed against your already glistening folds.

He stroked up and down your pussy, letting his thumb press between your lips to gather more of your arousal. He dragged it over your clit, reveling in the broken sounds you made, in the way your hips pressed closer without even realizing it. He rubbed slow, steady circles on it. Not nearly fast enough, but not slow enough to stop the steadily building need.

"Taehyung," You gasped out, lost in the feeling of him familiarizing himself with your body.

"Say it again," He said, voice lower than you'd heard it and zapping through you like a shockwave. "Say my name again."

"Taehyung," You whined again, this time pressing your hips harder into his touch, rocking against his fingers and moaning at the feeling. Taehyung gave you exactly what you wanted, pinning your hips down and rubbing your clit harsher.

"Again,"

"Taehyung," This time it was a full bodied moan, louder than you really realized, not that you cared. He grinned, shifting so he was laying between your thighs.

"Gonna make you scream my name, yeah? Gonna make you feel so good, promise."

He kissed at your thighs, mouth dragging up one, then down the other while his fingers continued to build you up. You melted into the bed, year hand curling into his hair and giving it the slightest tug. He grunted softly, nipping at the skin of your thigh and then dragging his tongue over it to soothe the sting.

Then his hand was gone, and you almost had enough time to process the loss before his mouth clamped over your pussy, tongue flicking over your clit. You gasped, back arching off the bed before pressing back to roll your hips against his warm mouth.

You hadn't expected this, but you probably should have. It wasn't like you'd never sat through one too many rants from Taehyung about how eating pussy was a dying art, and he was more than happy to single handedly rekindle it. But you had underestimated his skill, the way he found the most sensitive spots to poke, and prod, and suck at. You were dripping, though you couldn't tell if it was from his spit or your own arousal, probably a decent amount of both given the way he was diving into you.

His tongue dipped into your eager hole, his nose bumping against your clit. You wailed, voice too loud and echoing in the room around you, but it didn't matter when all it did was spur him on. Your fingers tugged at his hair, hips grinding into his mouth until you were practically grinding on his face, but he didn't make any move to stop you. He let you use him, let his tongue fuck into your desperate hole, slurping and moaning against you in the filthiest show of desire you'd ever seen.

"Taehyung," You gasped out again, trying to warn him, but he didn't seem to hear, or maybe he didn't care, and your body and mind felt too heavy to try over again so you let your orgasm wash over you, a cry of his name filling the room as your thighs twitched shut around his head. He kept going anyway, palms pressing on the insides of your knees and tongue working your clit in fast, sharp circles. You couldn't tell if your orgasm lasted forever, or if he was able to spiral you into another one in an instant.

His fingers joined the mix, sliding into your pussy to feel the way your walls pulsed and clenched around him, and his entire being was taken over by the taste of you on his tongue, so warm and sweet and driven home by the scent that was surrounding him.

"I can't," You sobbed out, hips wriggling away from him, but he pulled you back to his face. His tongue was slower now, more languid as he cleaned your juices from your core, easy and deliberate and not seeking your pleasure anymore, but seeking just a little more of your taste overwhelming everything else in him. Even still, with the oversensitivity, and the intoxicated, fuzzy state you were still in, it was enough to push you under the waves again. This orgasm was significantly gentler, but it left you dripping and trembling in his hold until he finally sat up.

You blinked at him, trying to see through the film that felt like it had been pulled over your vision. His hair was a mess, his already plump lips swollen from the work they'd put in and glistening with your essence. He smiled, smug and so very satisfied as he crawled up your body to press his lips to yours once, twice, then a third, much longer time. Your hand cupped his cheek, noting how he was still covered in you, until finally he pulled away. He laid down at your side, wiping his face on his arm and then tugging you against him.

"Don't leave me for someone else," He muttered, nose brushing against your neck and breath tickling your skin. You giggled, and then he giggled, and then you were dead serious again.

"I couldn't leave you even if I wanted to. I'm all yours, Tae. For good."

230 notes · View notes

unstablefragments2 · 3 months ago

Text

Nike Air Pegasus Wave Coconut Milk

#nike #sneakers #swoosh

98 notes · View notes

ashleyfableblack · 6 months ago

Text

Applejack wiped the sweat from her brow. She set the hammer aside and groaned. Her hooves were sore from the day's chores and adding putting up a billboard on top of the list had been a bit more tiring than the middle-aged mare had expected.

Rainbow Dash wrapped a hoof around her wife and appraised her work. With a peck on the neck and a poke in the ribs she gave up a smirk of approval. "Not bad. Not bad. Nice work, hon."

"Heh" Applejack chuckled, rising to her hooves. "Eeyep."

Rainbow Dash joined in her knowing chuckle. "So, what made you finally decide to put it up?"

Applejack gave her partner's hoof a pat, looking over the bright yellow billboard. In white letters, trimmed it black it read "No Hate In Our Holler". She had wanted to be sure it would be in a highly visible place somewhere well-trafficked so she had chosen the Northeastern trail. Dubbed "The Naughty Nor-easter" for it's reputation as a place for young lovers to take romantic walks together, it was a long, broad dirt path which bordered their family orchard closest to Ponyville and facing New Canterlot.

"You 'n me, Dashie. We're, well, celebrities. We're heroes to a whole mess of folkes."

Rainbow Dash grinned, giving AJ a squeeze. "Well, yeah." Rainbow said matter-of-factly "We are pretty awesome."

Applejack's jade eyes trailed to the nearby field. Amid the waves of short green shoots and fluffy patches of clover, their little Filly, R.J. giggled and squealed. The tiny orange pegasus awkwardly stumbled about in circles, playing with the family dog, Winona and one of their family's two on-site security-hoofs, a Changeling they called Blue. Blue usually took the form of a grey-muzzled Blue-heeler hound, as she did now and could often be found by Winona's side. Blue seemed to have a certain fondness for the old border collie which Applejack only understood well enough to understand that she didn't understand.

"We've done a lot to make this world a better place. For all the young'uns. But for her? OUR little R.J.? Is it enough?" She gave her partner's hoof a concerned squeeze. "What if she grows up and falls for one of them Changelin' gals?"

Rainbow Dash's brow furrowed. "Well, we wouldn't care."

"Well of course, we wouldn't. Most folkes wouldn't. Still, there's some ponies out there with their noses in the air and sticks up their backsides who'd be awful to them. The same ones who'd be all rude to you'n me on accounts of us bein' what we are."

"A Pegasus and an Earth Pony?"

Applejack nodded, her nostrils flared and jaw clenched. "Yeahp. And that ain't right, Dashie. That ain't right and that ain't no way to treat a body. And if THAT's the legacy we're leaving for our little R.J. then, elements or not, what kind of mamas are we?"

"Yeah. You know, that last time we all went out to The Lavendar Saddle, Chryssi was telling me that in the Stormlands, some of those creepy jerks would actually even hate on us just for us both being mares?"

Applejack jerked around to glare at her wife in wide-eyed shock. "Say what?"

Rainbow Dash raised a wing, folding a few feathers like fingers in a promisory salute. "Swear to P.W."

"You gotta be kidding me. What kinda stone-age, bass-ackwards tom-foolery is that?"

"I know, right?" The pegasus ruffled her crest of chest fluff with a snort of disdain. "I mean, it's not ALL of them but enough that it's actually a problem for the rest of their kingdom."

"Well, I'll be…" Applejack shook her had and whistled. "I know that us ponies had a problem with that nonsense WAY back in the old days but… Coo-whee."

"Yeah." Rainbow's feathers ruffled, flush with Equestrian patriotism. "But that was, like a THOUSAND years ago, maybe. And even then it was just the stuffy old-money unicorn jerks from up in the richie-rich mountains.

Applejack nodded. "Well, anyhoof, this country that Twi and that bughorse wife a'hers are building, this 'New Equestria', it's gonna be a place for all critters to live together. Ponies 'n Pegasi, Unicorns 'n Yaks, Changelings, Lovebugs, Griffins, Kirins and… well, all folkes. Just a-living and a-loving, together. Nobody fightin'. Nobody feudin'. Nobody looking down on anybody. It's gonna take a lotta work but for our little R.J.? That's a place worth fightin' for, even for old gals like us."

"Hey, don't go calling my wife old, cowgirl." Rainbow mussed her wife's mane with the feather fingers of her wings. "That's the right way to catch these hoofs, you, get me?"

Applejack gave her partner a playful punch in the shoulder and gestured towards the sign. "I recollect an old gal, some of our kin- a loooong ways back, once saying something like "Whenever one pony stands up and says 'Wait a minute, this is wrong’ it helps other ponies do the same."

Rainbow Dash nodded, proudly draping her wings around her wife in a protective embrace. The two mares looked to the horizon as the sounds of their daughter's laughter echoed on the sweet summer breeze. "And who better to stand up and say it but the Sweet Apple Acres Elements of Harmony?"

Inspired by the work of the Concerned Appalachians and everyone who came before to stand up and say "Wait a minute, this is wrong."

76 notes · View notes

barbstail · 5 months ago

Text

The Sunflower Jewel (A Michael x Mc fanfic) Part 2

(Mc spends their first day getting adjusted in the celestial realm.)

First part

Day 1

Mc’s skin was finally met with the warm summer air of Devildom as they stepped out of the house of lamination, luggage in hand. Their gaze turned over their shoulder to look at the small crowd behind them waving. The brothers all gave their goodbyes.

“Make sure you wear the sunscreen I got you! That sun can be so bad for your skin.” Asmodeus called out.

“Be careful with those angels, ya just never know what they’re thinking!” Mammon warned.

“Make sure you eat plenty of celestial food!” Beelzebub suggested.

After a round of the brothers shouting warnings, suggestions, and advice as their goodbye, MC brought their gaze back to the beautiful carriage that was being dragged along by two pegasus. It was truly a wonderful sight to see such gorgeous creatures. Mc would enjoy it more if the situation at hand wasn’t so bittersweet.

Before the coachman could come down and open the carriage door for the human guest, the door already swung open and Michael stepped out with an odd air of grace he always seemed to have around him. He offered out a hand to Mc to which Mc looked down at his hand in confusion.

“Have you ridden a carriage like this before?” The archangel asked, his hand still outstretched. The human looked at the carriage more closely, it was rather unique looking compared to Devildom or human world carriages. It’s a unique shape. “I can’t say I rode one like this before,” Mc admitted. “It’s easy to slip if you’re not used to getting on, allow me.” And with that, Michael took Mc’s hand. He carefully guided them up and into the carriage, putting a hand on their back to ensure they didn’t just drop out.

“Oi, watch it will ya! Don’t ya get all handsy with Mc!” The pale-haired demon growled in protest. Michael looked over to Mammon and was tempted to roll his eyes in response. He turned to face the small crowd of his former brothers. “You know, if you’re all so worried you could come visit us. I would sure love to see you all in the celestial realm.” The silver-haired angel pointed out. Though he could clearly see some of the disproval in some of his ex-brother’s eyes.

Mc’s eyes could not help but explore the luxurious inside. It’s been a while since the exchange student had seen such brighter and softer colors. Taking a seat, they heard a big thump of what presumably was their luggage being stored in the carriage’s storage.

Soon, Michael’s face showed up again as he climbed up inside. The coachman helped him close the door as the heavenly prince took his seat in front of his guest. “We’re finally having a proper face-to-face meeting, I have to say you pique my curiosity. Just how did you capture so many hearts in Devildom?” He asked, offering a smile. “It’s a long story,” Mc answered before suddenly feeling a jolt of force before being secured by a hand.

Looking up, they saw Michael putting a hand on their shoulder. “Take-off can be rough if you’re not used to it.” He reassured. Mc had an embarrassed expression for nearly falling on Michael. Sitting up straight in their seat again they muttered a small ‘thank you’ as they felt the carriage slowly go into the air.

MC’s eyes stared out into the window. It felt similar to flying on an airplane, except there was the complete lack of sea belt. They could only help they weren’t about to get nauseous from the ride.

Michael, as if sensing his guest’s distress, offered a sympathetic expression. “Do you not like flights?” He asked. Mc shook their head. “I see…next time we can use a portal then.” The angel reassured.

Soon, light began to shine from the window. It took the human a second to realize that it was sunlight. They leaned over, trying to take in more of the incoming view.

“Beautiful isn’t it? I couldn’t imagine living in darkness for so long. Just how did you do it?” Michael asked, looking out the same window that his guest was. “Vitamins and warm clothes,” Mc replied to which Michael frowned. “You didn’t just pack warm clothes now, did you? Devildom clothing isn’t suited for life in the celestial realm” Mc looked like a deer in the headlights at the question to which Michael chuckled “If not your words then your expressions talk for you.”. Mc gave a disapproving look.

The carriage suddenly began to shake as it suddenly landed on the ground. The ride slowed down as the sound of the distant pitter-patter of hooves could be heard outside. At least Mc’s plane sickness was giving some release.

Michael’s blue eyes stared out to the grassy and flowery fields of the celestial realm. He glanced over at the human in front of him. “Have you seen views like this in the human realm?” He inquired, giving off a curious expression. The exchange student shifted in their seat and looked outside the window for the second time. “Yes, I have.” They answered him.

“I’ve heard that the human realm has many different views that even we angels don’t get to see here.”

“Really?”

“Yes, such as winter. Our winters are too mild-mannered for us to get the same views that humans get in their realm. Tell me, do you enjoy winter there?”

“It’s pretty but too cold for me.”

The conversation continued until the carriage finally halted in place. The coachman opened the carriage door, revealing the elegant view of the blue crystal palace. Mc had seen the palace before but even so, the feeling of looking up at something so otherworldly made them wide-eyed.

They didn’t even notice the hand that was being offered by the coachman. Suddenly snapping out of their trance, they took the hand and slowly began to get down before nearly slipping from their foot missing the step. Fortunately, Michael had grabbed the back of their shirt fast enough before they could hit their head on the ground.

“This carriage really isn’t designed for humans,” Michael muttered, shaking his head. Mc raised a brow “What’s that supposed to mean?”. Michael allowed them to get off properly before following right after with far more ease. “Human legs are just…shorter.” He answered to which Mc nearly rolled their eyes. “Humans aren’t that much shorter.” They argued.

With luggage in hand, Mc and Michael made their way into the palace. Once inside, Mc couldn’t help but take a look at their surroundings. The inside of the palace was warmly decorated with tasteful cozy colors and rich gold to complement the surroundings. Colorful fresh flowers, paintings, and curtains served as excellent decorations on the walls of the place.

Michael had led the two of them over to a large mirror. Mc, looking confused, gave the angel an odd look. “The stairs take forever, so we added these mirrors,” Michael explained before demonstrating what he meant by stepping through the mirror. Mc gave one glance to the reflective surface before suddenly putting their foot into the mirror to test it out. Mc’s foot went through the mirror and hit something. Figuring it was safe enough, they hopped inside with their luggage being dragged along.

Once they were on the other side of the mirror, they were met with a very unhappy Michael who was glaring at them. “Please do tell me why you thought it was a good idea to kick me, Mc?” He said in a stern tone to which Mc could only give an apologetic expression “Sorry…”. Michael sighed “Don’t make me regret teaching you about our mirror portals.”.

The two continued on their journey down the decorated hallway. Occasionally, the archangel would stop and explain the history of a few of their paintings that hung on the walls. It wasn’t too long until the two of them stopped at a rather fancy-looking door that had a note taped onto it.

Michael picked up the note and read it quietly before sighing. “And here I thought I was going to introduce you to the others.”. Mc glanced over at the note, trying to catch some of the details. “Others?” They muttered to which he nodded. “Yes, my brothers. Apparently they’re all going to be far too busy with their duties in other places… I guess that means you’re stuck with just me for a while,” Michael explained before he began walking again.

Mc let out a huff as their arms got tired from hauling their luggage around. They continued to follow after the silver-haired man until reaching yet another mirror that looked very similar to the mirror from before. Michael gave Mc a wary look. Don’t even think about it.” He warned before going through. Although Mc would be lying if they said they weren’t tempted to repeat the same incident from before, they decided out of the kindness of their heart not to and just walked inside.

Finally, after who knows how long, they seemed to be down the hallway that had the guest rooms. Michael led Mc over to a certain door, opening it to reveal a room that was similarly decorated as the rest of the palace. It had a canopy bed that was pink with a pile of fluffy pillows and a nightstand that sat beside the bed with a flower vase that lacked flowers. There was a white rug and white curtain to compliment. Overall, a very pleasant room to be staying in.

Mc didn’t miss a beat as they went ahead and threw themselves onto the large canopy bed. “I take it that you like the room?” Michael chuckled to which the human only gave a small nod in response, clearly tired from the trip. “I’ll let you rest then. The servants will tell you when it’s time for dinner.” He said before finally closing the bedroom door and letting his guest sleep.

Mc slept and slept before suddenly jolting awake at the sound of knocking. “Dinner…” a meek feminine voice spoke through the door followed by the sounds of footsteps hastily walking away. Mc let out a groan, not being so happy from waking up from their slumber. They wiped the drool from their face before shuffling themselves off the bed.

They caught a glimpse of themselves in the mirror on top of their drawer. Looking over, they were met with a disheveled and sleepy-looking version of themself. A look of dismay was written on their face. They couldn’t possibly go to dinner looking like this.

Hastily, they made their way to the bathroom. They washed their face, tidied up their outfit, and went to brush their hair only to realize their hairbrush was still packed in their suitcase.

Mc groaned but forced themself regardless to go and open their suitcase. Their mood was lifted when they noticed a little Ruri-chan stuffed beside their clothes along with some of the items that Mc didn’t remember packing in there. Seems like the brothers left Mc little presents to remember them by when Mc had their back turned. How sweet of them.

No wonder their luggage was heavier than expected….

Mc, now fixed up, left their guest room and headed down the hallway. They jumped through one of the portal mirrors from before and went to jump through the second one but stopped when they heard the faint sound of jingling. Looking over, they saw another mirror down a dark hallway.

The mirror had a strange colorful shine to it that made swirls in the glass of the mirror. There was just something so…tempting about it. Some gut feeling telling Mc to go inside.

Mc let out a scream as they suddenly felt a hand grabbing them. Jolting their head over their eyes were met with blue ones. They both looked at each other startled. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” The archangel admitted before his eyes met over to the mirror in the distance.

“Don’t use that mirror, it’s broken,” Michael explained as he looked back at Mc. Mc being as curious as ever couldn’t help themself and asked “What happens if you use it?”. Michael was silent for a moment, seemingly debating whether or not he should even tell the human. “It’ll just teleport you to a random location.” He admitted, though something felt off to Mc when the angel said that. But Mc was given much time to ponder to themselves as they were quickly being guided away from the broken mirror and over to working one.

“The food is going to get cold.” Was what Michael said as he shuffled his little lost lamb away from potential trouble. Knowing the reputation of this human exchange student, he knew he was going to have to deal with that mirror later. That was for another time though, as it was time for them to eat.

The two soon arrived at a large room where multiple white-clothed tables were set up. The two weren’t alone, there was a small gathering of angels there that were seated and eating. None of them which Mc recognized.

“I thought your brothers were away?” Mc spoke out loud to which Michael shook his head. “These are my guests. Though, I suppose you could consider them my siblings through The Father.” He stated as he walked ahead of Mc into the dining hall. A few of the angels were quick to stop what they were doing and greet the archangel. Michael gave a greeting of his own but before Mc could even try to follow the silver-haired angel they were being met with their greetings.

“Heya there! You come here often?”

“Salutations, you must be new here.”

“I’m lovin’ the hair!”

Mc stuttered their words as they were quickly overwhelmed by three strangers who suddenly just approached them. They glanced around for Michael for help but saw him nowhere. It was as if the angel somehow managed to disappear into thin air. “E-excuse me!” Mc managed out, quickly scrambling away from the group of friendly and curious angels that had managed to form around them.

They let out a sigh of relief when they made their way over to a more excluded part of the dining hall. That is where they spotted the table that was hosting the food. Mc’s stomach grumbled at the sight and so they made their way over to the table, hoping and praying that they weren’t going to get any more surprised greetings.

Fortunately, the universe had heard Mc’s pleas as they were able to begin making a plate of food without their social anxiety spiking.

While making their plate, they spotted it. A single slice supreme sparkle cake. Mc could feel their mouth water at the sight of it. They hadn’t had this cake in so long as it was the perfect thing for the stressful day they had.

They reached for the piece but were stopped when met with another hand. Looking up, Mc met eyes with their new competitor…it was Michael. As they stared at each other, they both made an expression that only two fellow sweet enjoyers could understand. They will fight to the death for this cake…

“Rock…paper…scissors…” Mc hissed out to which Michael only smiled. “Do you really think you can defeat me?” He asked. Though he was smiling, his eyes were telling a completely different story. Mc just gave him a determined as they outstretched their hands, ready for battle.

“Fine…I’ll play your human games.”

Rock.

Rock again.

Damn, why won’t the two pick something else other than rock?

Finally, Mc chose scissors just as Michael chose paper. But just because Mc won the battle doesn’t mean they won the war and the harsh battle continued between human and angel. So they kept going.

Hand gestures upon hand gestures. It kept going until finally! There was a victor.

Mc threw their fists up in joy. The victory was theirs. They had managed to beat the archangel Michael in special hand-to-hand combat others known as Rock Papers Scissors.

Michael looked at Mc before a faint smile grew on his lips. He gave a faint bow of his head in a respectful manner. “You have bested me, the cake is yours.” He said before taking his plate and walking away, leaving the slice to Mc.

Mc gladly took the slice onto their plate with absolute glee only to see what was presumably one of the cooks. The cook held a brand new cake and sat it down where the premium sparkle cake used to be. Taking the dirty tray, they looked over at Mc.

“I see you and Arch Michael are getting along.” The friendly cook spoke, flashing a smile to which Mc could only feel slightly embarrassed. “I didn’t think anyone was watching us,” Mc admitted, giving a sheepish grin. The cook laughed in response before gesturing outside. “Please do tell him we brought more cake.” The stranger said before making their leave.

Mc glanced over to the outside patio that the cook had pointed to. They glanced over at the small crowd of people and not wanting a repeat of that awkward account from before, decided to bring Michael a slice of cake. Hopefully, this could convince the angel not to leave them alone with random strangers.

Walking outside, Mc could see Michael sitting alone at a table. He seemed at ease as he sat alone with his meal. As if sensing a presence, Michael looked up from his dinner and over at his new company. He quickly noticed the extra slice in Mc’s grasp and began eyeing the piece with little to no shame.

“They brought out more cake.” The human stated as they walked over. They sat the plate down by the seraphim angel which brought a small smile to his face. He was quick to use his fork to take a bite out of the desert and let out a small hum of delight. “So that challenge was done for nothing, hm?” Michael purred out, his mood quickly perking up from just one bite of sweets.

“What are doing alone?” Mc asked as they sat at the table. Michael pondered that question in his head as he helped himself to yet another bite of cake. “I find people…overwhelming at times.” He stated honestly as he sat his fork down. “You must relate, how odd,” Michael added.

“Why is it odd?” Mc asked.

“You have a crowd of people in Devildom who care for you, I figured it would take a very social person to be able to pull so many people in,” Michael answered.

“Do you have people who care for you?”

“Hm, of course! You don’t think I could run an entire realm all by myself, now do you?”

“Can you tell me about them?”

Oh boy, did Michael tell them. The archangel was all too happy to indulge Mc in his habit of rambling about things he cares about. He talked about his brothers, He talked about Luke, and he even talked about Simeon. It was interesting for Mc to learn about little details about some of their friends that they otherwise wouldn’t have learned about if it wasn’t for Michael.

“But enough about me, you must want to tell me about your loved ones. Tell me, how are my former brothers doing?” Michael finally asked, interrupting Mc eating their meal. Mc swallowed the piece of food in their mouth before beginning to speak. “They were doing well before that snowstorm hit us. I was even planning to go the an anime convention with Levi.” They admitted.

“Anime huh and here I remember when Leviathan used to be our fierce navy general.” The silver-haired angel chuckled to himself, seemingly relieving some of the memories in his head. “People really do change…tell me, does Lucifer still have the habit of dragging his wings when wet?” Michael asked, looking over at Mc who had just finished their meal. Mc looked up at Michael and nodded.

“Was Mammon always a troublemaker?” Mc asked as they began eating the rest of their desert. Michael couldn't help but smile at that. “Mammon…where to even begin. That angel was a troublemaker before he even learned to walk properly. Always getting into things, bolting off, and being loud. Me and the others simply had no idea what do to with little Mammon. Fortunately, Lucifer was willing to take him under his wing.” The seraphim explained before glancing over at the sky.

The sky was fading from its beautiful blue to a pale orange. Michael let out a small yawn at the sight, clearly tired from the long day. “It’s getting late.” He said, looking back over to Mc. Mc was looking at the sun curiously. “The sun can set here?” They asked the angel to which he answered. “Yes, the sun does change position here but it never actually turns into night like it does in your realm. A little unfortunate if you ask me, I would’ve loved to see the sky be filled with stars.”.

Michael stood from the table and picked up his empty dishes and silverware. He peered over at his guest. “It’s getting late, little lamb. Let’s continue our conversation tomorrow.” He stated before beginning to walk away. “Good night, Mc.” That was what he said before leaving.

Mc stood up and gathered their own silverware and dishes. They followed after the archangel only to not see him anywhere. Mc could only hope that Michael disappearing into thin air wasn’t going to end up like a bad habit of his.

Giving the dishes to the servants, Mc headed to bed so they would be well rested for what the next day would have in store for them.

Next part

#The Sunflower Jewel Fanfic #obey me #obey me michael #obey me nightbringer #obey me shall we date #om #michael x mc #obey me Michael x mc

63 notes · View notes

mybutcheredtongue · 9 days ago

Text

I'll Love You 'til the Grass Around My Gravestone is Deceased

post azkaban sirius black x fem!reader

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE (see full series list here)

1995

You thought Professor Umbridge was a pain in the ass when she first started, but now you realise you were seeing her at her best, and you’re about to start facing her worst.

It happens one night as you enter your classroom and greet your students, setting your things out on your desk before turning to them — and that’s when you spot her bright pink, woolly cardigan and the clipboard resting in her hand, quill at the ready. She looks expectantly at you, blinking and pursing her lips.

You have to fight down the irritancy from showing on your face, and you give her a nod, gritting your teeth. “Professor Umbridge. I was not expecting you tonight.”

“I believe an inspection is most accurately performed when the teacher is not made previously aware of it,” she replies in that sickeningly sweet voice, smiling at you.

You resist the urge to wince.

She dips her quill in ink, positioning it over her clipboard. “Please, continue.”

You take a slow breath before gathering your papers in your hands and you move down through the rows of desks, handing essays back to students. You're just going to have to ignore her. “Now, your homework — I graded them to O.W.L. standard, just to give you a general idea about how the exams are marked. Don’t worry about what grade you got, I thought your essays were pretty good overall, and I’ve left you all some feedback at the end with a few tips and comments on how to improve them. If you have any questions, you can come up to me at the end of class.”

You wait for the chatter and comparison of grades to die down before waving your wand and quenching the candles around the room, plunging it into relative darkness. Umbridge lets out a surprised squeak and you can’t the small smile of satisfaction that tugs at your lips, unknown in the dark. Your students are used to this, of course, and are ready when you place your wand in the air again, making a circular motion and projecting a glittery star map above you.

“You’ll all recognise this constellation, I hope…Pegasus,” you say, glancing as the students watch on with interest — using the telescopes and seeing pretty stars right in front of them like this tends to be the most favoured activities of your students — and you have to say you wholeheartedly agree with them. Umbridge glances up at you for a split-second before she scratches something down on her clipboard loudly.

“Now sometimes it can be hard to identify the shape of this constellation, a winged-horse, but if you turn it this way…” Using your wand, you slowly rotate the map in a different direction before stopping. “You can see the vague outline of Pegasus’s head and two front legs. I actually wanted to bring this up because an amazing discovery was made by two Muggle astronomers just last week —”

“Hem.”

“—it’s astounding, really. 51 Pegasi, this star right here — “ you point to one of the glittery stars in the map, one that doesn’t stand out at all and looks practically the same to all the others, “ — it’s quite similar to our Sun, and 51 actually has a planet orbiting around it! That makes it the first sun-like star to possess a planet other than our own, and it was discovered by Muggles —”

“Hem.”

“It’s incredible the way they found out, too — you see, it’s impossible to see from Earth, but these Swiss astronomers discovered it through a slight wobble in 51 Pegasi’s motion caused by the planet’s gravitational pull, and they did it all without magic —”

“Hem!”

You stop, your excited smile dropping as you look at the unsightly woman. What could she possibly have a problem with? You thought you were doing pretty well.

“Is there a problem, Professor Umbridge?”

“Oh, well…the Ministry does not usually condone the teaching of Muggle beliefs, we are all witches and wizards here, after all,” she says sweetly, smiling fakely at you.

You chew on the flesh of your inside cheek, blinking back at her. “Yes, but Astronomy is the only subject that Muggles also study, and it’s a science — everything must be proved and well, a discovery is a discovery, no matter who makes it —”

Umbridge lets out an odd, patronising squeak and scratches something down on her clipboard.

You watch her, nervous, and continue. “It’s fascinating, really, how it ties our worlds together — with magic we are so much more advanced than Muggles and yet they manage to come to new and different conclusions and revelations, all through hard work and time and — “

“Hm.”

You spend the rest of the lesson on edge, Umbridge taking everything you say as a mistake, total flaws in the way you teach, the way you’ve taught for the past fourteen years.

When the lesson is finally over, the students rush from the classroom and you rub your temples, sighing deeply. You glance up at Umbridge, who stands up and taps her clipboard thoughtfully, humming annoyingly.

“How long have you been working at Hogwarts?”

“Fourteen years,” you answer bluntly, turning your back on her and stacking papers loudly.

She hums, clicking her tongue. “And what did you do before taking this position?”

You stop what you're doing and slowly turn around to face her, meeting her beady eyes. “Why do you want to know that?”

She shrugs, smiling tightly at you. “Just curious.”

You bite your tongue, exhaling, looking into her cold eyes. “I don't see how that's of any concern to you, professor.”

She hums, again, tapping her clipboard. “Most Aurors are quite secretive, even to Ministry officials.”

You don't say anything.

“You will receive the results of your inspection in ten days.”

She makes her way to the stairway, but before she begins her descent, she stops, looking at you once more. You glare back at her.

“Albus Dumbledore may trust you, but I certainly do not. I know you're hiding something…or should I say, someone?”

She smiles proudly, a satisfied squeak escaping her as she stares back at you. She's bluffing, you know it — there's absolutely no way she could know about Sirius. She’s just pinning the blame on you, of course, like they all do.

Despite knowing this, you can't stop the way your heart rate picks up, a sick feeling rutting through your body.

You glare daggers at her, arms folded tightly across your chest.

“I have nothing to hide.”

“Hm.” She flips a page on her clipboard. “We’ll see about that.”

You listen to her distinctive pink heels click-clack down the stairs, echoing around the tower, and grate your teeth.

So, if you thought you hated her before, you weren't even close to what you're feeling now.

♡*⁠。♡*⁠。

October, 1975

“Okay, you stir it…and then it should go a pearly kind of colour…”

Lily picks up the metal stirrer and carefully stirs your brewing potion, and you breathe a sigh of relief when it gains a pearl sheen and fumes emanate from it in spirals.

You clap excitedly. “Perfect!”

Lily beams back at you.

“Okay, okay, let me see what I smell…” you say giddily, leaning in closer to the cauldron and inhaling a breath of the fumes.

Fresh parchment, tea leaves, leather, rich cologne and…cigarette smoke?

You pull back in horror, bringing a hand to your mouth. There’s only one person that comes to mind with that combination of scents: Sirius. But that’s not right, you know that’s not right, because this potion shows a person’s deepest desires, and though from time to time you find him attractive, and from time to time you might just entertain the idea of dating him — he’s far from being your deepest desire. Completely preposterous.

Lily gives you a concerned look. “What? What's wrong?”

You stand further away from the cauldron, breathing out of your mouth and shaking your head. “Nothing.”

She laughs lightly, waving you off. “Oh, you're just surprised at yourself. It's completely accurate, you know — “

She leans forward and sniffs, and a second later her face drops and she jerks back, looking like she’s about to be sick. She clicks her tongue, shaking her head. “Well, we clearly prepared it wrong. That's entirely inaccurate.”

Slughorn appears at your desk, looking into your potion. He dips a spoon into it and raises it high above the cauldron, tipping it over and watching as the liquid drips back into the potion. He nods in approval, smiling at you and Lily.

“Perfect. Couldn't fault it!” He grins, waddling away to check another pair.

You stare after him, jaw dropped. You turn to Lily, her expression a perfect mirror of your own. “Uh…”

“Definitely brewed wrong.”

“Definitely.”

“Couldn't possibly be correct.”

“Never.”

“I'm not going to tell you, uh, what I smelled, by the way — just because it's entirely wrong and would only confuse things.”

“Oh yeah, me neither, must be someone else’s potion fumes drifting over to our desk…”

You quickly flick through your potions book, reading down through the recipe. Absolutely wrong, that’s for sure. You must’ve messed the potion up somewhere, maybe you stirred it clockwise when it was supposed to be anti-clockwise…Slughorn is pretty barmy, too, he probably just got confused when he said it was perfect…

“Lily, darling, let me guess what you smelled…me?” James suddenly pops up in front of your desk — you have to give him credit for it, he has a knack for sneaking up on people and taking them by surprise — and grins at Lily, running a hand through his hair to muss it up.

“NO!” She shrieks hysterically, grabbing the bottom of the cauldron and yanking it closer towards her as if to shield it from James. “Just go away, James!”

Her chest heaves with distress and you softly place your hand on her back. James’ eyes widen and he frowns, hurt flashing across his face.

“I — I’m sorry, Lily, I didn’t mean to upset you —”

You look past James at Sirius, who is standing with his arms folded beside his cauldron, a confused look on his face.

“Sirius, please take James back,” you call with a sigh, and he turns around to look at you. Did he do something different with his hair today? It looks different. Why are you just now noticing how lovely his hair is? Is it soft? It looks soft. Why do you feel an intense urge to reach out and pull that stray lock of hair out of his eyes?

“Happy to.”

You shake yourself out of your stupid stupor, and push James towards his awaiting friend. As your arm passes by Sirius’ face, he stops and his eyes go wide.

“Are you wearing perfume?”

“Yeah, why?”

He stares back at you for a moment, an odd look on his face, and swallows thickly. “Where did you get it?”

You laugh, raising your eyebrows at him. “What, do you want a bottle? My grandmother gave it to me, she makes homemade perfume in her spare time.”

He kisses his teeth. “Huh.”

He grabs James by the sleeve and drags him back to their desk, before proceeding to gulp down a bottle of water in seconds, tapping his foot.

You give Lily a look. “What was that about?”

She shrugs, grinning at you. “Maybe he smelled your perfume in the cauldron.”

You snort, throwing your books into your bag. “Yeah, right.”

♡*⁠。♡*⁠。

One evening you’re dangling a length of string in front of Dubh with your wand, watching as she joyfully bats at it with her paws, mesmerized by its movements, when there’s a knock at your office door. You drop the string on the floor at Dubh’s feet and she rolls around beside it, trying to clasp the thin string between her paws. Much harder than it looks, apparently. You sigh, smoothing down your jeans as you stand and glance in the mirror quickly — looks presentable enough. You can only pray and hope it’s not Umbridge.

Thankfully, when you open the door, it’s not the squashed face of the Hogwarts High Inquisitor you’re met with, but Harry, Hermione, and Ron.

“Oh, hello.” You smile at them, opening the door wider for them to enter. “Come in.”

You sit back down at your desk, fetching a packet of biscuits from the drawer and setting it in front of them as they each draw up chairs and sit down. Dubh rubs against Hermione, purring, and the girl smiles and gently pulls her up into her lap, petting her.

“I’d ask if you’re just here to see your favourite teacher but I can tell by your faces that you want to ask me for something,” you say. “Go on, what is it?”

The trio glance at each other for confirmation, and Hermione clears her throat. “Well, um, we told you about Professor Umbridge refusing to teach us Defense Against the Dark Arts properly.”

You nod.

“And we decided to take matters into our own hands and learn it ourselves.” Hermione looks at Harry before continuing, “We’ve formed an association, the Defense Association — and we need somewhere to practice spells. Harry’s going to teach us.”

“And you want my help finding you somewhere away from Umbridge?”

“We were thinking maybe we could use your classroom,” Ron suggests.

You think for a moment, before shaking your head. “Sorry, but if Umbridge found out I gave you permission to use my classroom for an illegal society she’d have me sacked in an instant. No, no, you’ll have to find somewhere more secretive…”

You hum thoughtfully, thinking of all the secret passages and rooms you learned of when you were a student. “There’s a secret room hidden behind that big mirror on the fourth floor, you know, it might be big enough to practice a few jinxes — how many people are in this thing?”

“Twenty-eight,” Hermione answers, and you blow a whistle of air out your nose. Lot more than you expected.

“Sirius suggested that room too,” Harry says with a small chuckle. “But Fred and George said it caved in or something.”

“Sirius?” You repeat instantly. “You were talking to him?”

Harry gives you a confused look. “Yeah, last night. You weren’t?”

Though you know it’s petty, you feel a flash of jealousy and hurt prick your chest. Sirius talked to them, and not you?

“No, I — I didn’t. How did you —”

“Fireplace.”

“Oh.” You frown. “He never changes, always loves to take the risk—” You sigh. “He’ll get himself caught one of these days.”

“Uh…”

You look at the kids. They’re glancing at each other nervously, expressions grim.

“What happened?” you ask quietly.

“It was Umbridge,” Harry replies, swallowing. “She knew he was there — her hand appeared in the fire.”

You breathe deeply, the room silent as you stare at the chipping wood of your desk. That explains what happened.

“So that’s why she tried to break into my office last night?”

“What?”

You nod, feeling sick to your stomach. “I was with Professor McGonagall and Professor Sprout, we had a game of cards in Minerva’s office…and when I came back here afterwards, someone had been trying to lift the enchantments on my lock — it’s charmed to glow red when someone tries to enter without the key. I thought it might’ve been her, but it also could have been anyone — students get bored, it happens, I understand…”

“So she thinks it was you he was talking to?” Ron asks.

“Of course she does,” you say with a sigh, drumming your fingers on the desk. “Who else would she think? I haven’t talked to Sirius since we left London — it’s far too dangerous. You — you just have to be careful, alright? She won’t be able to do anything to you unless she catches you red-handed…but even the smallest hint of Sirius around the castle and she’ll come for my head. I’m lucky I wasn’t alone last night and the teachers can vouch for me. I wouldn’t be surprised if she gets her hands on some Veritaserum.”

You’ve had so much of the substance that at this point you think you might have a tolerance built up against it — but you’re not keen on testing that idea in front of Umbridge.

Harry has a guilty look on his face. “I didn’t even think about that. I’m sorry.”

You wave him off, chuckling bitterly. “Not your fault at all, Harry. Sirius should know better — but I don’t blame him either. He’s not having a good time stuck there while we’re all here. Besides, you think I’m not used to the Ministry watching my every move? They’re quite obsessed with me — it’s almost flattering.”

You click your tongue.

“I like your idea, by the way. The Defense Association,” you say, smiling. “It’s very brave. But you seriously have to be careful with this. I have a feeling that woman will stop at nothing until she gets what she wants — and she wants complete control over every little thing you do, over this whole school. Don’t give her any more reasons to take away the things that make your time at Hogwarts enjoyable.”

You pluck a biscuit from the open packet on your desk, pushing it towards them. “Biscuit?”

Hermione politely refuses and Harry and Ron both reach forward to take one. The sleeve of Harry’s robe falls as he moves his arm, revealing the skin of his right hand, which is red and seems to bear several scratches. He quickly drops his hand pulls his sleeve over it.

“Harry? What happened to your hand?”

He looks at you, holding up his left hand for you to see. “Huh? It’s fine.”

“Your other hand.”

Hermione and Ron seem to hold their breath, looking at Harry, nervous looks on their faces.

Harry shrugs. “Nothing. Crookshanks scratched me.” He suddenly stands up from his chair, sharing glances with his friends. “We should probably get going, homework to do, you know — “

“Harry,” you say seriously. “Don’t try to lie to me. What’s happened?”

“I told you, it’s fine.”

“If it was really fine you’d let me have a look —”

“We need to go.”

“No, Harry, tell me —”

They turn to leave and you reach out and grab onto his arm, but he instantly wrenches free of your grasp and twists away from you.

“It’s FINE.”

He glares at you and storms out of the room. Hermione and Ron watch as he goes, the room utterly silent. You feel absolutely horrible — he looked at you like he hates you. You shouldn’t have pushed him so far, but you knew he was lying, and if it was nothing to worry about why would he lie?

“Harry!” Ron rushes after him, hurrying out of the room, leaving you with Hermione.

She gives you an apologetic look. “I - I’m sorry, professor, I’ll go check on him — “

You sigh, shaking your head. “My fault, I shouldn’t have pressured him like that…” you open your desk drawer and pull out a small bottle, handing it to Hermione. “Whatever it is, it doesn’t look good. Make sure he puts this on it, it’s a salve. And I have a feeling he’s going to avoid me now for a good while…tell him I’m sorry. Goodnight, Hermione.”

⁠✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

When you were younger, you found it hard to decide on what career to go into. You adored astronomy, of course, but you also wanted to help people — something like a healer, perhaps. And then there was another part of you that loved Quidditch and commentating at the school games, maybe you could’ve gone into entertainment like Ludo Bagman. You used to pore over sports magazines and argue with James over who supported the better team — you the Chudley Cannons and James the Holyhead Harpies.

But when Voldemort started to really gain more power, and the death counts were ticking up in the papers, you forgot all of that and put your efforts towards becoming an Auror. It was a choice between living in constant fear at home, or going out and turning that fear into something else — and becoming someone that the Death Eaters were afraid of.

You would never have thought you’d be here teaching at Hogwarts. And though it may not sound exciting, every day is different.

And you still get to watch Quidditch matches — even if the latest match between Gryffindor and Slytherin has turned into a brawl. Really, it happens quite often, though you’re not too chuffed to see Harry in the middle of it, landing a blow against Draco Malfoy. Fred and George too, one of them sporting a particularly nasty split lip. Minerva and several other teachers are livid of course, and you and the rest of the crowd watch on in silence as she furiously marches Harry and the twins off the pitch and up to her office. Umbridge hurries after them, looking more satisfied than you think she intends to let on.

This altercation results in a new sign stuck up on every noticeboard around the castle:

EDUCATIONAL DECREE NUMBER TWENTY-FIVE

The High Inquisitor will henceforth have supreme authority over all punishments, sanctions, and removal of privileges pertaining to the students of Hogwarts, and the ability to alter such punishments, sanctions, and removal of privileges as may have been ordered by other staff members. Signed, Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic, Order of Merlin First Class

She banned Harry and the twins from playing, and for the next week your Gryffindors were particularly sour in class and you often heard them whispering to each other about someone called ‘Umbitch’. Wonder who that’s about?

Hagrid comes back — you spy the lights on in his hut and hurry down to see him. He had been off to find the giants, Dumbledore had told you at a meeting during the summer. And it seems you’re not the only one who noticed he’s back, because the moment you knock on Hagrid’s door you find the infamous trio sitting at the table, talking to him. You can’t help but gasp when you see him. His hair is matted with congealed red blood and his face is littered with scratches and bruises and redness.

“Fucking hell, Hagrid, who’d you kill?”

He picks up a nasty looking slab of dragon meat and drops it onto the side of his face with a slap. Green blood oozes out from underneath it.

You wince. “Or, uh, who tried to kill you?”

“It’s nothin’, don't you start worryin’ ‘bout me now.”

You scoff, sitting down at the table beside the kids. “Yeah, right. Spill.”

You listen intently as Hagrid tells the tale of his and Madame Maxine’s journey to find the giants, and how when he found them, their leader Golgomath had already set his allegiances with the Death Eaters, who had been currying his favour with gifts for several days before.

“So…so no giants are coming to fight?” says Ron, looking disappointed.

“Nope,” Hagrid replies, heaving a deep sigh as he turns his steak over and applies it to the other side of his battered face, “but we did what we were meant ter do, we gave ‘em Dumbledore’s message an’ some of ‘em heard it an’ I s’pect some’ll remember it. Jus’ maybe, them that don’t want ter stay around Golgomath’ll move outta the mountains, an’ there’s gotta be chance they’ll remember Dumbledore’s friendly to ‘em…”

Snow patters softly against the window, the bottom pane covered by white.

“Hagrid?” Hermione says quietly after a while.

“Mhm?”

“Did you…was there any sign of…did you hear anything about your…your mother while you were there?”

Hagrid’s rests the eye that isn’t obscured by the dragon steak on her, and Hermione looks rather scared.

“I’m sorry…I…forget it —”

“Dead,” he mutters. “Died years ago. They told me.”

“Oh…I’m really sorry,” Hermione says in a small voice.

Hagrid shrugs his shoulders, grunting. “No need. Can’ remember her much. Wasn’ a great mother.”

The room goes silent again, and you clear your throat. “You still haven’t told us how you got into this state, Hagrid,” you say, gesturing towards his bloodied face.

“Or why you’re back so late,” Harry adds. “Sirius said Madame Maxine got back ages ago —”

“Who attacked you?” Ron asks.

“I haven’ bin attacked!” Hagrid exclaims emphatically. “I —”

A loud rapping on the door grabs your attention, and you all whip your heads to the source of the sound. You jump; Hermione gasps and her mug slips through her hands and smashes on the floor with a crash; Fang yelps. Silent, you stare out the window beside the doorway at a familiar squashed figure standing behind the thin curtain.

Your face drops. “Fuck.”

“It’s her!” Ron hisses.

“Get under here!” Harry says quickly, seizing the Invisibility Cloak and wrapping it around himself and his two friends. Huddled together, they back into a corner while Fang barks madly at the door. Hagrid looks thoroughly confused.

You hastily grab the kids’ mugs and shove them under the cushion in Fang’s bed, while the dog leaps up at the door. Hagrid pushes him out of the way with his foot and opens the door.

Umbridge stands in the doorway, wearing a pink tweed cloak and a matching hat with earflaps to match. Her eyes widen at the state of Hagrid’s face and she purses her lips.

“So…you’re Hagrid, are you?”

She speaks very slowly and very loudly, over-annunciating her words as if she is talking to someone who is hard of hearing. Without waiting for an answer from the man, she strolls into the room, her nose high in the air as she surveys the hut as if looking for something. Her eyes land on you and she doesn’t make much of an effort to hide the disdain on her face when she spots you.

“And what are you doing here?”

“Er…I don’t want ter be rude,” Hagrid says, staring at her, hand still on the open door, “but who the ruddy hell are you?”

“Visiting my friend,” you say, gritting your teeth. “Are you going to tell me I’m not allowed to do that?”

She wrinkles her nose and clicks her tongue.

“My name is Dolores Umbridge.”

Her bulging eyes sweep the cabin. Twice they land on the corner where Harry, Ron, and Hermione are hiding.

“Dolores Umbridge?” Hagrid says in confusion. “I thought you were one o’ them Ministry twa — don’ you work with Fudge?”

“I was Senior Undersecretary to the Minister, yes,” Umbridge says, now pacing around the cabin, scrutinizing every detail. “I am now the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher — “

“That’s brave of yeh,” says Hagrid. “There’s not many who’d take tha’ job anymore — “

“ — and Hogwarts High Inquisitor,” Umbridge continues.

Hagrid frowns. “What’s tha’?”

“Precisely what I was going to ask.” The ghastly woman points to the broken shards of Hermione’s mug on the floor.

“Oh,” Hagrid says, glancing at you for help. “Uh…”

“Fang has broken more things in this cabin then there are to count,” you say, scratching the dog’s head affectionately. “He got excited when you knocked on the door and bumped the table.”

She looks at you momentarily, her nostrils flaring, before she turns to Hagrid and rakes her eyes over his form, taking in every detail of his dishevelled appearance.

“There are four sets of footprints in the snow leading from the castle doors to your cabin,” she says sleekly.

“Well, one of them’s mine,” you say simply, shrugging your shoulders.

“And the other three?”

“Well, I only jus’ got back,” Hagrid says, waving his hand at his travelling cloak on the coat hook and the large bag beside it. “Maybe someone came ter call earlier an’ I missed ‘em.”

“There are no footsteps leading away from your cabin.”

“Well…I…I don’ know why that’d be…” Hagrid says weakly, tugging nervously at his beard and glancing over at the corner where the trio are hunched beneath the Invisibility Cloak.”Uh…”

Umbridge wheels around and strides the length of the cabin, looking around carefully. She opens the cupboards, bends and peers underneath the bed, and comes dangerously close to where the kids are hiding. After inspecting inside the enormous cauldron Hagrid uses for cooking, she wheels around again and says, “What has happened to you? How did you sustain those injuries?”

“Oh…I…had a bit of an accident,” he says lamely.

You have to resist the urge to wince at his inability to keep his cool.

“What sort of accident?”

“I - I tripped.”

“You tripped.”

“Into an enclosure of blast-ended skrewts, right, Hagrid? That’s what you told me,” you chime in, giving him a look over Umbridge’s shoulder.

“R-righ’,” Hagrid agrees. “Straigh’ in there, set ‘em all off, y’know…”

“Where have you been?” Umbridge asks coldly.

“Where’ve I…?”

“Been, yes,” she says, pursing her lips. “Term started two months ago. Another teacher has had to cover your classes.” She glances at you, frowning. “None of your colleagues has been able to give me any information as to your whereabouts. You left no address. Where have you been?”

Hagrid stares at her and you can practically hear his brain whirring furiously to find an explanation.

“I’ve…I’ve been away for me health.”

“For your health.” Umbridge’s eyes travel over Hagrid’s discoloured and swollen face; dragon blood drips quietly onto his waistcoat in silence. “I see.”

“Yeah,” Hagrid says, swallowing thickly. “Bit o’ — fresh air, yeh know—”

“Yes, as gamekeeper fresh air must be so difficult to come by.”

“Well, change o’ scenery, always good —”

“Mountain scenery?” Umbridge says swiftly.

She knows. Oh my god, she knows.

“Mountains?” Hagrid repeats, shaking his head as though he’s never heard the word before. “Nope, south of France for me. Sun an’ sea.”

“Really? You don’t have much of a tan.”

“Yeah, well…sensitive skin,” says Hagrid, attempting a smile — you notice two of his teeth have been knocked out.

Umbridge stares back at him coldly, and his smile falters. “I shall, of course, be informing the Minister of your late return. You ought to know that as High Inquisitor it is my unfortunate but necessary duty to inspect my fellow teachers. So I daresay we shall meet again soon enough.”

She turns from him and marches promptly back to the door.

“You’re inspection’ us?” Hagrid echoes blankly, staring after her.

“Oh yes,” Umbridge answers, her hand on the door handle as she looks back at him. She glances at you, a smirk tugging at her thin lips. “The Ministry is determined to weed out unsatisfactory teachers, Hagrid. Good night.”

She leaves, closing the door behind her with a snap. You wait a few seconds before standing up and pulling back the window curtain an inch, peering out at Umbridge’s stout little form making her back to the castle in the snow.

“It’s alright, she’s going back now,” you say softly, turning around and heaving a sigh.

“Blimey…inspectin’ people, is she?” Hagrid says.

“Yeah.” Harry pulls the cloak off, revealing the trio once again. “Trelawney’s on probation already…”

“You’re gonna need to be careful, Hagrid,” you warn. “She’ll be at your first lesson back, I’d put money on it. She’ll scrutinise every little thing you do and say.”

“Don’ worry, don’ worry…I’ve got some really good stuff planned for their lessons now I’m back.”

You raise your eyebrows.

“Now, you lot had better get back up to the castle, an’ don’ forget ter wipe yer footprints out behind yeh!”

You open the door and poke your head out, swirling snowflakes landing on your hair and eyelashes. The kids make to follow you and you thrust your hand out. “Wait, put the cloak on.” You look up at the castle, eyeing the lit windows facing the grounds. “She could be watching from the windows.”

⁠✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

-> all kinds of interaction appreciated ♡

thank you everyone for your continued support. I can't even begin to describe how much it means to me <3

Hugs and kisses to my taglist loves:

@mothraantics @wholelottalove05 @izuoyarmin @devoid-swanky @carpe000diem @mooonyxoxo @hyperspeedo @idkman5335 @elanna-elrondiel @murielisacertifieddilf @penelopied @imgondeletedis @wooyoungsrightsock @jennifer0305 @wolfdragon0424 @lovemesomevesey @aylinnmaslow @boiolay

#sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #sirius orion black #harry potter #hp #hp fanfic #hp fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #fanfiction #angst #angst with a happy ending #the marauders #fanfic #marauders #wizarding world #hogwarts #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry

51 notes · View notes

freshthoughts2020 · 1 month ago

Text

1 note · View note

fullreggaetord · 3 months ago

Text

Nike Air Pegasus Wave “Light Lemon Twist” se lanzará en el otoño de 2024

Las Nike Air Pegasus Wave son una reinterpretación radical de las clásicas zapatillas para correr de mediados de la década de 2000 como zapatillas de estilo de vida. Nike se inspira en el pasado para crear zapatos que combinan la estética retro con la comodidad moderna. El Air Pegasus Wave debuta en una vibrante combinación de colores 'Light Lemon Twist', acentuada con atrevidos detalles en…

View On WordPress

#Air #lanzará #Lemon #Light #Nike #Otoño #Pegasus #Twist #Wave

0 notes

needfantasticstories · 4 months ago

Text

Blood and Blade, Chapter 10: Desert Ruby

by SkipBreaker (aka needfantasticstories)

Summary:

Legend gets to meet the Gerudo of Wild's era. (Fun fact! So far, in his games, Legend has never met Gerudo people besides Ganondorf and Twinrova!) This should be fun, right? THANK YOU CHEETO!!!!!!! THE Beta ever!!!!!!! Crack TW: very relatable technology issues. (Qar, Riju would punch the screen.) Real TW: discussions of gender and sexism, some descriptions of arrow-wound care on a child

Desert Ruby

Deep sand dunes clawed at Legend’s Pegasus boots, slowing him. Waning afternoon sunlight baked his hands and face, yet the veteran forged on with a vengeance across the scorching grains. The breeze created from his reckless forward run helped soothe only some of the desert’s blistering heat. He hoped it was enough for the girl; he could worry about healing his own sunburns later.

The scorching sun inched lower behind him, still hours short of sunset.

Through dancing vapors of heat, the city walls drew nearer. A humble, arched gate on the western wall greeted him. Unseen streams whispered somewhere nearby, cooling the air around the city. Within the archway, sparkling cool blue and green tiles decorated the walls and small pools of water.

Legend sighed in relief. Wild spoke highly of his Gerudo, especially compared to the Gerudo tribe of Time’s stories, who seemed to hate Hylians. Legend waved to the guards and hurried to pass through. a request for aid on the tip of his tongue. Instead, he froze when the towering women shoved speartips against his chest.

“Wha–”

“No voe allowed!” snarled a veiled guard. If the blademasters were “strong” then these women were the equivalent of bipedal chain-chomps. Muscled arms flexed, and their boulder-firm stances left no question as to their capabilities. The guard on the left glared, and her drawn brows twitched as if she itched for him to give her any reason to run him through.

He glared back at her, and resisted the urge to leap over the gate. Fresh off multiple fights for his life, what was one more, if it came to it… but what then? Jostle the girl further in a mad dash with no destination? Delay getting her aid? He could not solve this with a fight.

‘Smile, and assume incompetence over malice,’��Zelda would remind him in moments like this, on those rare occasions she’d tasked him to guard her throughout tense diplomatic meetings.

He could do this. This was simply a puzzle, not a fight.

Legend took a slow step back and turned to reveal the child’s face and her injuries, her breath shallow and labored on his ear.

Their horrified gasps would have been satisfying if not for the girl’s groan at the sudden motion.

“Wait here until I call the healers.” The guard lowered her spear by mere inches and blew a tiny whistle with three long calls.

At last, she lowered her weapon and the guards helped him ease the child atop a blanket one of them produced. Legend stepped back and let his legs collapse. He knelt in the sand a moment, watching them carefully ease the girl to rest on her side. The arrow wounds looked more shallow than he’d first feared, at least—none of them shot at close range thanks to their wild descent—but it was little consolation when he could see her bleeding and shivering.

“Here. Healing potion,” Legend staggered to his feet and poured some on his blistered hand for them to see. He knew his era’s potions looked different than Wild’s. The healer snatched it as soon as the wound faded.

Legend watched, unable to help further but unwilling to look away as each arrow came free. Instead, the veteran fisted the dense weave of his tunic as she bit down her pain. He could have done more.

She took it all with a courage he admired. And, she was right. Gerudo were tough .

At last, the red-tipped arrows lay discarded on the ground beside the empty bottle of healing potion. Legend rested again in the sand just outside the gate, watching the little girl breathe deeply in her sleep, safe in the shade.

One of the guards turned to him with a softened expression. Not a smile, but not aggressive. “Thank you, young voe, for rescuing her. Buliara has been frantic over her disappearance,” she said with a sad shake of her head, “She’s very close to her nieces. I’m sorry we can’t allow you inside, or I’d buy you a drink myself.” She leaned closer. “Although,” she whispered, “You could do what another voe warrior does and buy a convincing vai set. Not many voe can pull it off, but I suspect you could do better than most, especially with that pink in your hair.”

Voe. That word again.

Oh .

A man.

He had found an entire civilization that hated him, helping the little girl notwithstanding. Legend regretted not grilling Wild about his era as soon as they’d come. He couldn’t even restock here, couldn't rest, might as well move on. Legend looked back at the wavering ocean of sand waiting for him to search. But where? Not back to the Yiga base. To Hyrule castle, perhaps, to find Wild’s Zelda? To Wild’s house in Hateno, the only place they’d spend time in their short visit before? Legend had no map, and such a lush village as Hateno must be hundreds of miles away.

The guards looked relieved when he asked for directions to both the castle and Hateno.

The guard who answered, one with short hair who wore it loose, pointed towards the far side of town. “There’s an oasis a few hours ahead where you can resupply, then a Hylian-run stable at the mouth of the canyon. Follow the canyon for a few days, cross Digdogg Bridge, on your first left is another stable. Return to the road going east, then beyond the coliseum ruins–”

Colosseum ruins… Legend’s heart sank at the words.

“Take the road north. You will see the castle. For Hateno, stay on the path instead of going north. You will find stables to rest in along the way. It’s a two week journey, at least, for most travelers. Best of luck.”

Legend saw a pair of green eyes staring at him. The girl rested, perfectly still, as her caregivers whispered above her. He waved a small goodbye. She lifted two fingers in answer.

“Yari!” A booming voice called from within the walls, and Legend stared as a massive Gerudo warrior collapsed at the girl’s side, her spear clattering on the packed earth. She wrapped the girl in a bear hug that might have killed the poor child if she hadn’t been healed first.

She would be just fine. A smile tugged at Legend’s mouth, though accompanied by a pang of jealousy. He missed his own brothers, and especially Hyrule, and the certainty of knowing they were all okay.

“I’m glad I got to see that, at least,” Legend told the guard as he took his leave.

She smiled as she waved.

Hot wind blew sand across the barren path ahead. He took one uncertain step. Two steps into the arid desert, the first steps of his next journey, and paused.

It felt more than lonely, without the girl on his back or brothers at his side or even his fairy companion from years ago. It felt more than daunting, with his skin already pink from the burning sun. It simply felt… empty.

“Buliara, that voe is the one who brought Yari back.” Called the guard he’d just said goodbye to.

“You!” the newcomer, Buliara, barked at him from the entrance. “Young voe! Explain.”

Legend slowly pivoted, hoping he would see someone who could help rather than hinder his quest. He took in her stern expression, and her rosy floral silks clasped in place with golden plates of armor, royaly jeweled. Legend wondered, if he faced her in the fighting colosseum, if he could even win.

Buliara eyed him skeptically in return. “What were you doing inside the Yiga base? How did you find her?”

To his own surprise, he rather liked this woman’s simmering rage; it was refreshing, somehow, and it matched his own. And, despite her people’s appalling sexism, she knew Wild’s world far better than he did. Honesty, it is , he decided.

“The Yiga ambushed my brothers and I, along with some demon, those bastards–” He was surprised at the slight wince the guards gave. Then again, with that much jewelry, Buliara could actually be royalty. Court voice , he decided. He explained, much more formally this time, the basics of the ambush that morning. “We reappeared deep within a cave complex in the canyon in that direction. Unfortunately, the demon did not appear there, the one who took my brother. I thought he was in the caves too, but I searched the whole complex, and even the Yiga did not know where they’d gone. I found Yari in the dungeon, and we made our escape together.” He paused to sip from his waterskin, at long last. It gave the guards a chance to whisper back and forth as he washed hot grit from his throat. “Now,” he added, “I still need to find my brother, wherever the demon took him, and return to our companions.”

“You say the Yiga are in league with a… demon?” Buliara scowled, and for the life of him Legend could not discern what it meant. But every guard and nosy civilian gathering near the gates to watch the commotion had also flinched at the word as she said it.

“Yes. Tall, thin, white hair and clothes. Do you know anything about demons, or where to find them?”

“We are no demon tribe!” One of the guards glared at Legend. “Have you come here to brazenly insult us with old prejudices?”

“No!” Buliara cut her off, stepping between them. “I believe they are earnest, and clearly a stranger to our history and our culture,” She eyed his clothes with something akin to amusement. Legend stood a bit taller. She nodded with something like approval, some decision reached. “The increasing brazenness of the Yiga clan may be explained by what he has seen; if there is such a monster among them, we must know. I will take you to our Chief. She should hear of this.” Buliara beckoned him to follow, and in one graceful motion she hoisted her sleeping niece into her arms like she weighed no more than a rabbit. Yari settled back to sleep almost instantly.

Legend hesitated, eyeing the guards. “As much as I’d like to brag that I got invited to your super-exclusive city, I really need to get back to my brothers. Do you know a man named Link?”

“Ah! The one with the vai clothes!” the guard whispered to her companion, much too loudly.

So, that’s what those silks were for? Wild wore them to get in? Legend suppressed a laugh. “I need to tell Link where I am. Do you have a way to contact that slate device he uses?”

“You know him, and the Sheikah slate?” Buliara considered him anew. “Lady Riju might know a way to contact him. You get to enter our exclusive city after all.” Buliara rolled her eyes, “Now put on decent clothes, for Nabooru’s sake. That dress is too thick for our sun, and we can’t let our citizens see a voe within the gates. Here. change quickly.” And she handed him a handful of soft fabric from her pouch. Like his own pouch, it was small but carried far more than its size implied.

“Uh, am I supposed to change here?”

She pointed to a gap behind some crates just inside the gates, and joined the other guards in shooing away the chittering crowd and telling them he was, in fact, a vai in disguise. Yari remained fast asleep on her shoulder.

Legend palmed the soft clothing she offered and walked behind the crates, and carefully examined each piece.

He took out his rok cape, briefly entertaining the idea of climbing a wall and soaring with the magical item to the palace without the grumpy soldiers hovering, but he did not particularly want to get on her bad side. He changed quickly, missing his skirt until he slipped into the silk pants, shimmying into the top and instantly feeling cool relief from the heat.

They felt… nice , he admitted in the privacy of his mind. I’m keeping these .

Buliara pointed to the gate, now cleared of spectators. “This way.”

Legend was never one to commit halfway. He swayed a little as he walked, trying to copy the sea-like gait of the vai filling the narrow street. If he was going to do this, he’d do it right , Hylia damn him.

Passing through alleys, all tiled in colorful mosaic designs, they soon entered a large plaza.

Canvas-covered shops lined the adobe town square, and shopkeepers reclined on rich carpets in the shade behind unfamiliar wares. They didn’t bother shouting, there were customers aplenty, Gerudo and Hylian and bird-like creatures and gorons all milling around curiously. The sun had a smothering effect, even in the cooling silks. This market would be a tough place for a thief to steal, so spread out were the stalls, and with so many eyes on one another’s customers.

Behind the shops, soft susurrations promised more waterways running somewhere behind the low walls, and cool air drifted into the plaza from above. Or he thought, until they passed water streaming from atop the wall itself into a mosaic-lined pool, the water diverted underground, but so close below he could still hear it as they entered the main plaza.

The central walkway to the palace was flanked by palm trees, and the water was exposed again between the walkways, joined by two wide waterfalls flowing down blue-tiled steps, all leading up to the adobe palace and its towering crown of stone pillars, bulbous at the top. A shimmering cascade flowed down like a divine gift from the sun goddess itself. Perhaps it was. Hylia was a strange goddess.

Sellers and Gerudo customers called familiar greetings to Buliara as they aimed for the palace steps. Curious eyes turned to him with open curiosity. Legend reflexively covered the scars of the trident on his chest and stared at the shimmering pools of water to keep himself from glaring back at their shameless gawking.

Stepping into the shade at the top of the palace steps, Legend finally sighed in relief, free of the sun and stares and the exhausting performance of walking in the awkward, foot-tilting shoes he’d only seen women of the court don for galas and balls. He missed his boots.

The little girl stirred in Buliara’s arms, and she whispered quiet greetings and comforts to the girl and held her closer. The girl settled, and watched Legend through heavily lidded eyes as they entered the Palace. Her gaze moved to his hair. She seemed uncertain. Legend resisted the urge to look around the opulent palace and waved at her instead. She smiled back at him, and closed her eyes.

“You found her!” Came a young woman’s voice, older than Yari’s but far higher than any of the guards. Legend begged his eyes to adjust faster.

Buliara dropped to one knee—spear braced in one hand and little Yari snuggled in the other—and bowed with only her knees. “Chief Riju, my niece is safely returned, and I present to you her rescuer.”

The tall throne, carved in ancient script like a monument, was fitted with a sort of wooden booster seat and small steps to accommodate the girl sitting in it. She lifted her gaze from some papers in one hand, her radiant gold headpiece–that looked much too large for her head—wobbling as she looked up.

“Praise all the sacred mothers!” The bejeweled girl looked relieved to see the child resting in Buliara’s arms. She faced Legend. “And who is our brave heroine?”

“Forgive me, Chief Riju, but I will personally vouch for this particular voe.”

“Oh!” The Chief gasped, and she laughed, light and airy, like the way Zeldas sometimes did when her courtly mask slipped. Several nagging worries evaporated with the sound. Riju straightened her headpiece from where it had fallen forward a little. “Well, she’s—I mean he’s not the only one, is he?”

Chief Riju slid off the throne and examined his eyes as she approached, as if trying to see the clues to some mystery. Her smile was open and unguarded, and refreshing. She reached for his hands and he readily offered them. She smiled even wider at his compliance, and held his hands earnestly as she spoke. “Thank you, young voe! Buliara has been inconsolable. She had all the troops gathered when the news of your arrival came. Please accept this in thanks.”

She pressed into his hand something heavy and warm. He knew better than to refuse a gift, so he bowed in thanks and peeked at it before stowing it subtly away: it was the warmest, heaviest ruby he’d ever seen, a gem that would have Ravio begging to buy it for crafting some new magic item… if he ever found out about it.

When he looked up again, Chief Riju was still staring. The chief blushed as she seemed to realize it herself. “Please forgive me, but you look so much like a very dear friend.”

“You mean Link, right? Hero of the Wilds?”

Riju’s open smile snapped into a frown. “You know him?”

“We were traveling together. He’s probably looking for me, and our brother.”

“I would like to know how you came to know Link, and of the Sheikah slate he carries.” Buliara asked, failing at keeping her tone neutral.

Their guards were up again. With enemies like the Yiga and that pale demon, Legend didn’t blame their suspicions. He knew the risks of shapeshifters and possessing spirits all too well.

Buliara did not wait for an explanation. “Chief Riju, I brought him here to his tale of encountering the Yiga, and his rescue of Yari, and his journey with our mutual friend. But he also claims to have seen–” Buliara paused and whispered it in Riju’s ear.

“What? What sort of… As in the ancient… does Link know?”

“We should listen to his report.”

They both turned to him.

“Please, share your tale.”

“It’s… it’s a bit hard to believe, but…” Hylia, where to start? “Are you very familiar with portals that can move you, not to different places, but to different times ?”

An uncomfortable silence fell as Riju blanched. “Yes.”

Legend began alowl, awkwardly, as awkward as the day he first stumbled through a portal and his confusing meeting with Hyrule and the black eye the traveler gave him. But as he spoke the story wove itself more easily: meeting the others, the sha-shifting creatures of dark magic and the monsters it infected, the ambush, the teacher and the mage, finding Yari, their escape, and finall to the moment he arrived at their gate.

The only interruption was when he shared their nickname for Wild.

Buliara laughed, “That’s quite fitting. He smells like a wet dog and muddy leaves most days, especially when he’s been around his wolf.”

Legend stored that intriguing comment to ask Wild and Twilight about later.

A long silence followed the end of his tale.

“Wait here,” Riju ordered, and she marched past her throne, and disappeared behind it. From behind the monument of a seat came a cacophony of thumps and bumps and clacks, of some jumble of items being pulled around.

“Chief Riju, please be careful!” Buliara hissed, trying not to wake her stirring niece.“Purah has yet to repair it.”

Riju ignored her.

Legend waited with growing dread, fingers itching to reach for his pack in case things went… well, as they often did: sideways. Had he said something to make them think he was secretly an enemy? Why was the Chief so upset about time-travel? He ran through all his words, but exhaustion had long since taken the edge off his mind. He sat, and drew slow, calming breaths. Nothing was wrong, not yet . Wild trusted them, and though their auras were not overwhelming like the mage, he could still feel them, fresh but strong like rainstorms.

Riju emerged at last. Her arms overflowed with a tangle of wires and cords, small stones and crystals and metal coils. Screws dropped from the mass as Riju moved. “She said it could still connect to the Princess’s, so I’ll risk it.” Riju answered her guard, dropping the bundle on her booster-throne. “We don’t have the technology or spells for time-travel,” And she mumbled, “Not in this version of our history.” And she stopped, sighed deeply, and continued louder, “However, we can travel and contact each other across great distances, thanks to the Sheikah technology the princess and Link have rediscovered.” The young chief pulled out what looked like a slimmer version of Wild’s fromslate amid the nest of cords. She studied it, her nose wrinkled in deep concentration, scanning the slate with uncertainty, and finally she pressed something on it.

“Your majesty, wait!” Buliara yelled, momentarily distracted by setting down her niece, but too late. A jolt of blue light pulsed from the crystals and stones, along the wires and cords, and promptly faded before reaching the slate itself.

Riju frowned, and Buliara sighed in relief. Whatever it was, it hadn’t worked.

“Oh, by all the mothers!” Riju grumbled, and held up the slate in one hand. With the other hand raised in an elegant pinch, she snapped .

OceanThunderHyruleWhere!? Legend’s mind scrambled for understanding as light consumed his vision.

When color at last bled into view again, Riju stood with the slate glowing softly in her hands, the wires and stones dangling from it pulsing steadily with a now-familiar blue glow.

“R… ch… Rij—” A crackled voice spoke from the stone. “Chief Riju, is that–worki—gain?”

“Princess!” the girl shouted. “Princess, I have found someone you should meet! He says he knows Link!”

“l—be there as soo—ake care of—oon–here me? –e on our way there,” a barely intelligible chorus of voices crackled in reply from the various stones.

“I do hope that means they’re coming,” Riju furrowed her brow, but the optimistic smile at the corner of her mouth never dissipated.

Hylia, why does she remind me so much of Hyrule? And the princess was coming? Legend could have cried in relief. She’d have answers. They always did.

As guards marched out to meet the Princess, and attendants brought refreshments, the trio waited on a collection of plush cushions and carpets set to one side of the court. Legend made use of the damp towels provided to wipe his face as the late afternoon sun peeked below the window tops, inescapable.

#linked universe #linked universe fanfic #blood and blade #skipwrites #lu legend #lady riju #riju #buliara #tw blood

32 notes · View notes

saijspellhart · 3 months ago

Note

for the kissing prompt- 100, ephraim and innes :3

100. Hateful kisses; all teeth, bruising, hair tugging, being pinned against the wall, low groans, heavy breathing, knees separating thighs — but both of them need more. (Ephraim x Innes)

-WARNING: Spicy-

Ephraim finally broke away from the party, slipping out during a toast and a speech proposed by Princess L’Arachel. Her personality was…aggressive enough to draw any and all attention, creating a perfect opening for him to slip behind a heavy curtain and out onto one of the balconies of Castle Frelia.

The crisp night air greeted him, a chilled kiss against his cheeks. An audible sigh, all the tension in his body releasing, he approached the balustrade. He crossed his arms to lean on the railing, gazing off into the valley below.

A little shimmering river, reflecting the light of the moon, cut the fields and forests in the distance. It looked looked like a vein of silver in an otherwise inky black and blue landscape.

In one of the inky fields there was a herd of ghostly white dots. A herd of Frelian pegasi grazing on the pastures. Their snow white coats glowing under the moonlit night sky.

Ephraim pondered the ramifications of commandeering a Pegasus and flying back to Renais.

Not that he could fly one. He still struggled with riding a horse, despite a myriad of lessons with Kyle and Forde. The animals didn’t respond well to his brash recklessness. He doubted a flighty Pegasus would fair any better.

Ephraim, in a fit of irritation, dug at the constricting collar of his tunic. A button popped off in his hand, and he hurled it over the side of the balcony. It disappeared into the night.

“Feel better?”

Ephraim shot a glance over his shoulder. Innes, crown Prince of Frelia, strode out onto the balcony. His silver and storm blue finery, dazzled in the moonlight as he approached the King of Renais. The Prince was always stunning, in a painfully aggravating way. Even when he was caked in blood and worn from the despair of battle.

Innes joined him at the balustrade, a glass of wine in one hand. He took a sip, and eyed the rumpled and undone collar of Ephraim’s tunic. The King could feel the Prince’s sharp eyes as they traced the line of his throat down to the barest tease of a collar bone. Ephraim shivered, hoping Innes assumed it was due to the chill night.

Those sharp steel eyes cut back to Ephraim’s face, pinning him with a stare. “Should I leave you? So you may continue disrobing on our balcony?”

“Shove off,” Ephraim returned to leaning on the railing. “The ball was stuffy, and I hate this frivolous formal attire. I felt like I couldn’t breath.”

“Perhaps it wouldn’t have been so stuffy if you didn’t spend so much of it indulging my sister and her inane friends.”

“I wasn’t indulging her,” Ephraim seethed, reminded of the reason he escaped to this balcony to begin with. “I couldn’t get away from her.”

Innes scoffed, waving his glass in Ephraim’s direction. “It’s not as if you tried very hard. Prancing around the dance floor like a stallion in rut. Always the center of attention, the ladies fawning over you like swooning mares.”

Ephraim angrily swatted the glass of wine from Innes’ hand, and sent it crashing into the balustrade and over the edge.

“How very barbaric of you,” Innes shook his accosted hand and stared down the King of Renais.

“By the Stones, you insensitive prick! Innes, would it kill you to be humane for five minutes?” Ephraim threw his gloved hand in the general direction of the party. “King Hayden approached me to arrange a marriage.”

The haughty contempt finally melted, and Innes’ eyes narrowed. “Whose?”

“Whom do you think? Your sister to me.”

Even in the low light Ephraim could detect the hint of panic that welled behind Innes’ eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous, you don’t even like her.”

“I don’t think it matters what I like. Your father wants to maintain strong relations between our Kingdoms, the Renais council has been hounding me to marry since I took the throne, and it’s not like I have any better proposals on the table.”

“You sniveling coward.”

Ephraim recoiled, “Excuse me!?”

Innes stepped forward, jabbing two fingers into Ephraim’s chest. “Did Fomortiis castrate you in the final battle? Since when did Ephraim de Renais submit and roll over to the whims of lesser nobles?

“Your father…” Ephraim stepped back and his lower back hit the balustrade railing.

“My father has no power over you,” Innes closed the distance between them, getting right up in Ephraim’s face. “Tell him no.”

“And what?” Ephraim placed a hand on the rail for stability. “Risk crumbling relations between our Kingdoms? What of my people, Innes?”

“Father wouldn’t dare go to war with you and I am crown Prince!” Innes hissed. They were so close that the discrepancy in their heights had become apparent. If not for the Prince’s ungodly high heels he would have been on his tip toes trying to crowd Ephraim. He still had to tilt his head just a bit to look up at him.

“You being heir to the Frelian throne instills no comfort in me!”

“Why?” Innes cocked his head, sneering. “Scared? Does the thought of me make you quake in your boots, your majesty?”

Gods, could Innes get under his skin in the worst way. The man was fire and steel, cutting Ephraim with a tongue that set his blood alight. “All you’ve ever done is pick fights with me! I’d swear you hate me, the way you act.”

Innes took a fistful of Ephraim’s rumpled collar, demanding the taller man’s attention. “Sometimes…I do hate you, Ephraim. Every time I see you, I’m overcome with the primitive desire to destroy you, to bring you to your knees and make you quiver beneath my heel.”

Ephraim’s breath caught in his throat, heartbeat thundering in his ears. He seized Prince Innes’ wrist pushing against his hold. “Exactly my point! At least if I married your sister it would muzzle your raging ego enough to prevent the collapse of our alliance.”

“You will not marry, Tana.”

“Why?” Ephraim sneered back. “Why is this so important to you?! Is it so detestable to see your sister wed your rival?” He wanted to get under Innes’ skin the way the man crawled under his.

“You,” Innes snarled, “are my rival.” The “my” made Ephraim’s stomach clench. Innes buried his other fist in Ephraim’s mantle, using the fabric to drag the King closer to his level, nearly nose to nose. His gaze as piercing as the arrows he fired from his bow. Those steel eyes tore through Ephraim with ease, sinking past his defenses to render him useless. “She. cannot. have. you.”

Then he surged up on his toes and pressed his lips to Ephraim’s.

Ephraim made a choking noise, his heart striking his ribcage painfully. His weight shifted back against the balustrade again, and he had to put a hand back to steady himself. His other hand tightened its grip on Innes’ wrist.

To push him away? …Or to keep him close?

The kiss was as forceful and abrasive as Innes was. Ephraim swore his lips would bruise the way the prince assaulted his mouth.

Innes, honest to gods, growled against Ephraim’s mouth. He nudged Ephraim’s already buckling knees apart, forcing himself between his thighs as the King of Renais shuddered against the stone railing. It was a miracle Ephraim didn’t melt and topple over the side.

Innes’ lips dragged over Ephraim’s as he whispered into his wanting mouth. “Concede.”

Concede. A dazed Ephraim assessed the Prince beneath hooded eyes.

It was one word spoken between them many many times, but never in this sort of context. It was a taunt, an expression of superiority and triumph. Both of them spouting the word whenever they dominated the other in competition.

Concede. He could feel Innes’ breath against his bottom lip.

An ember of indignation swelled to an inferno within his chest.

Ephraim drew himself up, so Innes was no longer towering above him. His hand left the railing, seized a fistful of the Prince’s celadon hair and crushed their lips together again. The kiss was no less bruising, but this time it was all teeth.

Innes made a noise somewhere between a keen and a hiss, and Ephraim swallowed it.

Ephraim tilted his head, slotting his mouth against the Prince’s, nipping tender lips until their teeth clacked. His other hand released Innes’ wrist to curl around his neck instead. Gloved fingers cradling the back, while his thumb put pressure on his throat.

This time it was a ragged breath that escaped the man, blowing through his nose.

Innes clawed at Ephraim’s chest, nails popping another button off his tunic, only to rake savagely over the King’s collar bone. The slight pain sent electrified pleasure straight to Ephraim’s groin.

The brief upper hand was short lived, as Innes was fighting him again. The Frelian Prince pressed into the kiss with equal fervor, mouth parting to bite Ephraim’s intrusive tongue.

Ephraim had to swallow a yip when Innes’ oddly sharp canine drew blood.

Innes, already pressed between the King’s thighs, jerked his hips into Ephraim’s hardening arousal. The friction pulled a throaty groan from Ephraim and he panted against Innes’ lips.

The railing dug into his lower back again, a show of support as much as it was a mark of weakness. The King tightened his grip on Innes’ throat, his other hand releasing his hair to trail over his shoulders and down his back.

Ephraim took hold of Innes’ backside hard enough to elicit a moan, which he swallowed along with the Prince’s tongue. He tasted of copper and heat. Heady and sharp in a way that drove Ephraim feral. He clutched Innes against him, hips rocking forward, dragging the shorter man onto his toes.

Innes clawed even harder at the King’s front and neck. No doubt marring his skin with ugly red lines. He tore the front of Ephraim’s shirt apart, exposing his chest.

The cold night air bit Ephraim’s exposed skin in perfect contrast to Innes’ burning touch.

Both men broke their kissing to pant raggedly against the other’s jaw.

Ephraim wasn’t sure what prompted him to look up, past the Prince’s shoulder. Had it been a footfall? The rustle of heavy fabric? A soft gasp?

His cerulean eyes met the dark eyes of the Frelian Princess as she backed against the heavy drapes covering the balcony’s entrance. Tana reached blindly for the heavy drapery, an expression of shock and betrayal drawing her usually sweet features.

Any words—excuses—Ephraim might have mustered died in his throat when Innes—oblivious to the situation—reached up and sucked the King’s ear between his lips and teeth.

“H-aah…” Ephraim whimpered. His hold on the Prince involuntarily tightened, and he screwed his eyes shut against the look of Tana’s face.

When next he opened them, she was gone.

-0000-

Please let me know if you liked! I tried my very hardest to make this hot and spicy. I really wanted to capture the intensity between these two.

Thanks for the kiss prompt!!

#Ephrinnes #ephraim fire emblem #innes fire emblem #Fire emblem #fire emblem the sacred stones #fe8 #kiss prompts #ask answers #SaijSpellhart answers #fanfic #writing prompts #fanfiction #hateful kisses #passionate kisses #rivals kissing #forbidden romance

10 notes · View notes

flutteringfable · 1 year ago

Text

silly little wip for another chapter of the poly mane 6 bc its cute and i want ppl to see it even tho its not done :3c

Snow had piled up all around Ponyville, caking on rooftops and crunching underhoof. Foals were bounding around, giggling and tossing snowballs at one another. Twilight sighed, using her magic to pull her coat closer around her. She loved the snow, she really did, but she had never quite adapted to the chill of winter in Ponyville. Spike ran ahead of her, beaming with delight. Twilight had never longed to be a dragon so badly. If she had the inner flame of a dragon, maybe she wouldn't have to worry so much about the cold. She followed slowly behind Spike, wincing at the chill that surrounded her hooves.

"HIIIII TWILIGHT!" exclaimed a familiar voice.

Pinkie Pie grinned as she bounced over, grinning at Twilight. The earth pony's fluffy pink fur was especially puffy; Pinkie's winter coat was always well suited for the colder months.

"Hello, Pinkie." Twilight tried to smile. "I take it you're enjoying the snow?"

"Yuh-huh! It's super-duper fluffy this year!" Pinkie replied. "Just like me!!"

Twilight couldn't help but chuckle as Pinkie trotted circles around her.

"Everypony else is over at Sugarcube Corner; I just made some yummy hot chocolate! Wanna join?"

The princess nodded, feeling a sense of relief at the thought of a nice, warm drink. Pinkie turned and led Twilight through the town. They passed a group of foals tossing snowballs at each other, and Twilight instinctively raised one of her wings to protect herself. Only one or two snowballs were tossed in their direction, and thankfully none hit Twilight.

"Hi, Princess Twilight!" called a voice from the group. A small filly was waving to her, peeking up from behind her friends. A chorus of more "Hi, Princess Twilight"s followed, and the alicorn smiled warmly. She waved back as she and Pinkie passed by.

Despite the uncomfortable chill in the air, Twilight had to admit that the snow was pretty. It was heartwarming to see everypony in such good spirits, and by the time Winter Wrap-Up season rolled around, it would be increased tenfold. This season was always so… nostalgic, in a way. It reminded Twilight of her initial years in Ponyville, long before she had gained the status of princess. Some things really never changed, she supposed.

Sugarcube Corner's roof came into view, though it was almost indistinguishable from the other rooftops because of the snow. Pinkie picked up speed, and Twilight had to break into a trot to keep up. It was no issue; the sooner she got to the warmth of the bakery, the better. Pinkie opened the door for her, and Twilight found herself relaxing as she walked inside.

"Yo, Twi!" Rainbow Dash chirped as she trotted over. "I knew you'd show up! Apple owes me 30 bits now."

The pegasus laughed as she nosed happily against Twilight's cheek in greeting. Twilight sighed, raising a brow as she returned the gesture.

"You two made a bet on if I would show up or not…?"

Rainbow grinned. "Uh, yeah. You always stay all holed up in your castle during winter; I know it's cold and all, but seriously! It's not gonna kill you to come out and enjoy the snow!"

"Well, sorry, my fur isn't exactly made for this type of weather," Twilight retorted with a sigh. "And I don't spend all day in the sky like you, Rainbow."

"You literally have three marefriends with the coziest fur ever. Just ask Pinkie, Apple, or Flutters to hang out!"

Twilight couldn't help but laugh softly at the suggestion. As if to punctuate Rainbow's statement, Pinkie walked over and snuggled against Twilight's side. They walked to the table, and Twilight took a seat between Rarity and Rainbow Dash. Pinkie bounced away to prepare her a mug of cocoa.

"Hey there, sugarcube," Applejack smiled. "Glad you could make it."

Rainbow snorted. "You shouldn't be," she joked. "She's the reason you lost our bet."

"Just 'cuz I lost a bet doesn't mean I ain't happy to see her," Apple replied.

"Fair enough," Rainbow shrugged. She leaned against Twilight, resting her head on the alicorn's shoulder.

Rarity sipped her hot cocoa and sighed. "Anyway, how have you been, darling? Do you need me to make you a new coat?"

"No, thank you," Twilight replied. "I'm alright. I guess I've just never gotten used to the cold."

#fable writes 💫#mlp #poly mane 6 #im normal about them. the normalest #sorry not sorry for being a brony on main i just have so many thoughts abt these horses

28 notes · View notes

adrift-in-thyme · 1 year ago

Text

Whumptober Day 10: Stranded

Thanks to @uncleskyrule for the idea for this fic!

Also check out @jewlist ‘s amazing art inspired by this fic

Read on Ao3

- Time & the Chain

- Summary: While pursing the Shadow Time becomes stranded in the Lost Woods

CW for mild body horror, blood and injury, and broken bones

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

Time tightens his hold on his sword and shield. His heartbeat thunders in his ears, mixing with the clank of armor and weapons and the pound of six pairs of feet. Just ahead of him a shadowy figure runs, cap swishing with the rapid movement. Time grits his teeth and pushes himself to go faster.

He likely should have brought Epona. But she is back at the inn with Twilight and Wild and Hyrule where he had left her in case they needed to make a quick escape. There hadn’t exactly been time to grab her, at any rate. And riding a galloping horse through a town is never an easy task. Still, an extra speed boost would give him a much-needed advantage.

He can’t rid himself of the creeping sensation that the Shadow is slipping through their fingers even as they chase him.

“Where the hell is he going?” Warriors grits out from beside him. He glances wildly about, no doubt looking for a side street he can take to cut the monster off. But this town is unknown to them and the search does him little good.

“I don’t know,” Four says. “And honestly I’m not certain he does either.”

“I’m wondering why he doesn’t just portal away,” Wind pipes up. “That’s what he’s always done before.”

“Don’t give him any ideas, sailor!” Legend snaps.

Time can practically hear Wind’s frown. “If he’s gonna do it, he’s gonna do it. Doesn’t matter what I say.”

“We have to catch him, at any rate,” Sky interjects. “If he gets away now there’s no telling what he’ll do.”

The fear underlying those words goes unspoken. But Time’s expression grows grim anyway. If the Shadow manages to circle back to the inn, if he goes after Twilight again…

He swallows. Sheathing his sword, he reaches for the familiar object hanging at his hip.

“Prepare yourselves,” he calls to his companions.

“For what?!” Legend snaps, worry potent in his voice.

“For attack.”

Eyes firmly on the Shadow, Time lifts the instrument to his lips. The tune is at his fingertips instantly, weaving its way through the air with a calm that belies his breathless desperation. Gently, he guides the song past the heroes, funneling it towards its target.

The notes die away. A second passes. Time itself slows around him.

“What the…” Legend says, but Time pays him no mind. He has no time for questions and explanations, they have no time. The Shadow’s steps are growing more sluggish. But it won’t be long before the monster realizes what’s happening and fights back.

“Go!” He orders. “Strike now!”

Warriors catches his gaze and holds it. There is something fond in his expression and almost proud, mixed with the steadfast determination.

“Box him in,” he says, motioning the others into motion. “And Sky…you know what to do.”

The Skyloftian nods. Out of the corner of his eye Time sees him raise the Master Sword. The blade begins to glow.

The rest of the heroes rush forward, weapons at the ready. It takes them a moment, but soon they have gained on the Shadow. Legend activates his Pegasus boots and speeds ahead, cutting off the Shadow’s escape. Wind lifts his baton and the air itself curves and gathers beside the veteran. Another wave and a massive gust blows the monster back. The Shadow stumbles, just catching himself as he comes to a skidding halt.

“Now!” Warriors shouts and Sky brings his sword down in a sweeping arc.

A beam flies free. Time leaps sideways as it zips forward, racing toward the Shadow. The monster turns, eyes widening in realization and then fear. But just as quickly as it has come, the emotion is gone.

There’s a surge of dark magic and Time’s spell shatters. Time reorients nauseatingly, speeds up.

The Shadow grins.

“Nice try,” he hisses.

And in the next instant the ground disappears from beneath Time’s feet.

He cries out as he plummets, grasping vainly in the sudden blackness for a hold. Someone screams his name and a hand stretches out to him. Vainly, he tries to reach for it. But then something dark and smothering drags him further downward. A shout goes up and the hand retracts.

Seconds later his back connects with hard ground.

Time grits his teeth, wincing as his joints protest the abrupt landing. Spots dance before his eye as it struggles to adjust. But the light here is dim and clouded and it only takes his vision a moment to clear. He barely restrains a gasp as his surroundings come into view.

Fog floats thick and lazy, obscuring everything with its gentle touch. Fairies sparkle within it like tiny stars. Already they have begun to drift toward him, murmuring interestedly. Green grass tickles his fingertips. Walls rise on each side of the clearing he sits within, huge logs set within them. Their openings are pitch black, gaping maws leading to Hylia only knows where.

Slowly, Time rises. His hands clench and unclench at his sides as he takes everything in. A strange numbness has settled in his chest, blanketing him like the fog that he stands in the midst of. He has imagined himself reentering this forest so many times since he left it. Never had he thought it would go like this, though. He isn’t certain what to feel. Or if he wants to feel anything at all.

It has been so long…so very long since he has been home.

Laughter erupts from behind him and he startles. In one swift motion he whirls around and unsheathes his sword. The Shadow leers down at him from his perch atop one of the logs.

“You remember this place, don’t you, little fairy boy?” he purrs. “I wonder…does it remember you?”

Time steels himself. The battle of emotion and lack of is gone now, safely stowed away for later.

“Whatever you’re playing at, Shadow, it ends now.”

The Shadow’s expression turns murderous.

“You want me, Hero of Time? Come and get me.”

He leaps down in a blur of bent light and darkening shadows and ducks into the mouth of the nearest log. His laughter echoes behind him.

Time doesn’t allow himself a moment to think, a moment to question. He breaks into a run, plunging through the opening after the Shadow. Darkness blankets him, then just as quickly turns to greenish light. He looks up just in time to catch a glimpse of the tip of the Shadow’s cap disappearing to his left. Gritting his teeth, he charges in that direction.

Another block of darkness, curving and transforming the very path beneath his feet. Another clearing that looks the same as all the others. Another fleeting glimpse of the Shadow’s hat or hair or tunic flying out behind him as he skips away. Always too fast, always out of reach.

Time runs without pause. A fearful sort of urgency has situated itself firmly in his gut, pushing him onward. He can’t stop now, not with Twilight still recovering a world away. His descendant had fallen before his eyes and he could do nothing except watch. Watch him crumple on the battlefield. Watch him fight for his life.

Now, however, in this moment he can do something. He can slay this monster that seeks their lives. He can protect those he loves. And isn’t that the entire point of any of this? To ensure those he cares for are safe?

So, he keeps going. Even as his sense of direction goes from vague to nonexistent. Even as that urgency becomes a kind of contained panic. Even as he begins to feel a change in the forest around him, benevolence turning to something more malignant.

And then, all at once, he can’t go any more.

Something curls around his foot mid-step, thick and constrictive and unyielding. He stumbles and pain shoots up his ankle. With a muffled grunt he hits the ground.

Stubbornly, he drags himself up again, peering down at his foot to see what tripped him. It is a vine like the ones he climbed as a boy. It sticks out from the soil like a large snake to coil about his ankle.

As he watches another erupts beside it. It latches on to his opposite foot and begins to climb higher, tightening as it goes. Fear spikes within him. Grasping his sword from where it has fallen, Time slices viciously at them. They retract and he scrambles to his feet, wincing as his ankle protests.

He manages two steps.

The vines spring up again, this time wrapping around his wrists like manacles. More come from behind him, encircling his legs. Even as he struggles they drag him down to kneel upon the ground.

Time struggles, desperately reaching for the sword that lies just out of reach. But the vines are strong and only growing more so by the moment. They circle ever higher, wrapping around his arms and legs and torso, stretching toward his face and neck.

With them comes pain. It burns at his fingertips and spreads from there, following the trail of vines.

He gasps, trying to tear at them with his bare hands now. One sword sits useless on his back, the other mere feet away. If he can just reach one of them…

But his efforts are in vain. The unnatural bonds are tough and plentiful. And more appear by the moment to encase his body like the wrappings of a gibdo. They constrict and his armor creaks threateningly.

“Well, well, what have we here?”

There is a flickering of darkness and then the Shadow stands before him. He regards Time with a sinister grin.

“Quite a pretty predicament you’ve gotten yourself into. Seems the forest has forgotten you.”

He reaches out a slim finger, tipping Time’s chin up to look him in the face. A vine takes the opportunity to twine upward, snaking around Time’s neck. He chokes on the air he can no longer drag in.

“I thought you would know that this would happen, but…oh of course not. You always thought you belonged to the forest. That it was your home. Am I wrong?”

Time’s only reply is a pained hiss as the vines tighten further. His armor begins to crumple inward, piercing his skin. Stars dance before his vision.

“Of course I’m not,” the Shadow answers for him. “You, on the other hand, you certainly were. You never belonged here any more than the sorry Hylian souls that haunt these woods.”

There is another streak of pain and suddenly the vines around his left arm are gone. The Shadow grips his forearm, forcing the limb upward.

“Look, hero,” he hisses. “Behold your terrible fate.”

Time blinks and the haze clears just long enough for him to see his own hand, hovering before him. The sight is nearly enough to make him gag. Where there was once healthy, pink skin there is now only pearly white bone.

No.

The air has left his lungs now and it has nothing to do with the vines that seek his demise. Terror settles deep within him, cold and real and terrible.

The Shadow cackles. He releases Time’s arm to hang by his side once more. Instantly, the vines spring upward to encase it again. But Time hardly notices.

He’s standing at the spot where Anju’s brother once sat, a potion in hand, something icy and horrible clutching his heart. He is hearing Fado’s giggling chant.

“Everybody will become a stalfos. Everybody, a stalfos. ...will you become a stalfos too?”

“Well, I had best be going,” the Shadow is saying now, his voice filtering through the dreadful ringing in Time’s ears. “I would love to stay and watch your body slowly disintegrate and your sanity along with it…but as it happens I have somewhere to be.”

A slow grin stretches across his face and Time’s heart stutters.

No.

Frantically he begins to struggle again, even as the vines constrict further, sending white hot agony through his body. The telltale burn of disappearing flesh travels up his right arm. The knowledge of what is happening makes him ill.

But he hardly has time to dwell on it. The Shadow is waving a hand now, dark magic floating at his fingertips. A portal appears beside him. Time stares at it with longing and trepidation. If he could just get free he could reach it. He could be there when the monster arrived to protect Twilight and all the others.

His heartbeat is erratic now. What little air he can drag in is inhaled sharp and fast.

He has to break free, he has to. He won’t allow Twilight to die…

He manages to wrench one hand free and reaches out, tearing at soil and grass as he tries to grasp his sword. But quick as a flash his bonds grab his wrist, wrenching it back to his side so sharply that he feels his bones break. A scream rises in his throat and he bites his tongue to keep from letting it free.

“Go ahead,” the Shadow sneers. His crimson eyes glow, sharp teeth glint. “Scream. No one will hear you. Struggle. It will do you no good. The forest takes what it wants. I thought you would know that by now.”

He turns away toward the portal that awaits him. The panic in Time reaches a fever pitch.

“Don’t—” He grits out. “Don’t you dare touch him. Don’t dare touch any of them.”

The Shadow pauses mid-step. Turning on his heel he stalks back toward Time. He leans forward until he is mere inches from Time’s face, murderous intent evident in his gaze.

“And if I do touch them,” he hisses. “If I say use this sword” — In one swift motion he scoops Time’s sword off of the ground, holding it up so that the blade gleams — “to slit their necks what will you do? Will you don the Deity mask that sits in the pouch at your hip? Will you follow me across time? Hunt me down?”

He is trembling now, Time realizes dimly, though from pain or emotion he isn’t certain. Both, more than likely.

“I will do whatever it takes to keep them safe,” he growls.

But the Shadow only smirks. “Oh, I know. And I welcome you to try. Though, I believe it is rather difficult to do much of anything once the forest has claimed you.”

He leans even closer, fingertips brushing harshly against the side of Time’s face. It has begun to burn there too, a distant sort of pain that now fans itself into agony. Time flinches away, dragging in air between clenched teeth.

The Shadow grips his chin, forcing him to remain still. For a moment more, he regards him, as though reveling in the sight of bone showing from beneath skin.

“I wonder what he would think, your pup,” he says, slowly, every word measured with torturous precision, “if he saw you right now.”

The red hot anger churning inside of him erupts and Time tries to lunge forward. But the vines tighten sharply and drag him back and he chokes, vision bleeding white.

When his vision clears the Shadow has turned away. Time watches as he walks toward the portal. And with every step, desperation wedges itself more firmly in his throat.

The monster pauses just before he enters the portal, head turned slightly so Time can make out the side of his face.

“I suppose there is an upside to all of this.” His lips quirk upward in a wicked grin. “At least, now, at the very end, you truly belong to the forest.”

#whumptober 2023 #no.10 #stranded #linkeduniverse #fic #blood tw #injury tw #mild body horror #broken bones #lu time #lu chain #lu shadow #trin writes #prolly gonna continue this one later on #but we'll see #gonna have to figure out where i want it to go first lol

43 notes · View notes