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frantic-fiction · 1 year ago

Text

Beg 18+

Pic Credit: astarionposting

Astarion x F!reader

Summary: Astarion asks for more blood, you make him work for it.

Warnings/Tags: Smut MDNI, fingering, begging, slight overstimulation, sub!Astarion, switch!Astarion, Druid!Reader

Word Count: 3.8K

Masterlist

"There you are, darling,"

Astarion hovers above you as you sit cross-legged in the grass by your tent, his shadow blanketing you, blocking the sun's warmth. You hum in acknowledgment, but your focus is solely on your book. A delicate finger dangles in front of the vampire, who audibly scoffs but otherwise stays silent and waits, patiently observing.

You pick at the skin of your lips absentmindedly with your teeth as you flip the page. You can feel his eyes on you, taking every inch of your body in with his wandering gaze. Shifting in the grass, you continue to read, relishing the impatience dripping from Astarion, smirking when each flick of the page elicits a huff of annoyance from the vampire.

Once your chapter finishes, you mark your page and lean back on your hands to look up at the man with a quizzical arch to your brow. "How can I help you, Astarion?"

His annoyance melts like ice in the sun as a sultry smile stretches his lips. "Can I not simply want to see your enchantingly beautiful face?"

You snort, "You have barely spoken to me since the tiefling's party. So I'd say you want something." Standing, you brush off the dirt on your pants and move to store your book away.

"I have to!" Astarion balks, pressing a hand to his chest in a dramatic display. "Besides, we have been incredibly busy running all over the gods damn wilderness since you and everyone else seem to want to play the hero."

You roll your eyes and cross your arms over your chest, a playful retort poised on your tongue. "I'm terribly sorry that some of us have morals and a conscience," you tease, your gaze meeting him with a mixture of challenge and amusement.

"Oh, I have morals, my sweet," Astarion purrs, leaning into your space, his breath chilly against your skin. "however, mine sway towards the more sinful side."

You suppress the shudder that trembles through your body. Astarion always has a way of reducing you to a mumbling, blushing mess with only a few salacious words. It's like he holds the key to pulling you apart and leaving you consumed by him, and he knows it, too. But you're not giving in that easily. There's something he wants. You can see it in his eyes, and he's not going to get it without working for it.

Putting your hand up, you interrupt his following flirty remark. "Did you want something? Or are you just here to interrupt my free time?"

Astarion looks at you in shock, mouth open to speak, but no words seem to want to flow. His eyebrows furrowed, and a smirk stretched his lips. Leaning on one hip, Astarion flicks out his hand, idly looking at his nails.

"Yes, actually, I have a list. Coin, sex, blood, revenge," Astarion counts on his fingers, his tone dripping with amusement. "Certainly not in that order, and I could go on, but what I came here for specifically is something that might be better…" Astarion looks around the camp, taking mind of everyone. "Discussed in private."

Having a hunch on where this would lead, you stifle a laugh, a plan forming in your head. "Then lead the way." You motion for him to walk, smiling brightly at the vampire.

Astarion nods smugly, obviously feeling like his plan was going just as he attended. He escorts the two of you past the others' tents and deep into the woods. Your hunch seems more viable as the brush becomes thicker and the symphony of nature's melody replaces the still air.

After a few minutes of walking in relative silence, the two of you break into a small clearing. Its grass has spatters of bright patches of wildflowers, and the colors of oranges, pinks, and blues contrast against the expanse of green. There's a small pond on the far side, and cattails and pond reeds sway in the winds. A deer is grazing the water, but sensing Astarion as a predator; it quickly retreats to the woods.

Paying more attention to the scenery, you had yet to notice Astarion stop mid-step and swing on his heel. You stumble slightly into his chest. "I believe this spot will do nicely," he declares smugly as you step back.

Taking a step back, you quickly recover, "And why are we here exactly, Astarion? I was quite enjoying my book."

For a moment, uncertainty flickers across Astarion's features before swiftly being concealed behind a facade of confidence and a devilish smile. Turning away from you, he strides further into the small alcove.

"Are you so eager to escape my company, my dear?" he counters playfully, eyes scanning the clearing. "I thought you would like this little spot. I had no idea how beautiful the woods could be."

"You're stalling," you accuse.

"Am not!" Astarion's voice echoes against the canopy.

Folding your arms over your chest, you give Astarion a pointed look.

The vampire sighs deeply, shoulders slumping. "Gods, this is embarrassing," Astarion mumbles under his breath so low you barely catch it. He combs a hand through his tousled curls, not bothering to turn back to face you. "Fine, yes, you see… I'm hungry, darling. Starving, actually."

Of course, the prick ignores you for almost a week to ask you for a bite. After what he did, he thinks he can call on you like his personal snack pack. Oh no, he's going to have to do better than that.

"Then hunt." You smirk, "Or did you need me to ensnare something for you?"

"Excuse me! I am perfectly capable of hunting!" Astarion snaps his head back and storms toward you. "It's these bloody woods; there's barely any fauna in the cursed thing."

His outburst has the surrounding animals scurrying, and before you can open your mouth to utter a mocking retort, Astarion grabs you by the waist and pulls you flush against his body. You yelped at the sudden force of his moments, your hand catching yourself on his chest.

"Don't make me say it," Astarion breathes against your ear, his hands trailing teasing paths down your sides.

"Astarion," you chuckle, feigning ignorance. "I don't understand what you're implying. If you want something, you'll need to say it."

Astarion nuzzles against your neck with a groan of frustration, his lips brushing against your skin in a maddeningly gentle caress. "Darling, may I have a taste?" He murmurs, the scrape of his fangs against your flesh nearly causing you to relent. "I'm famished, and your blood… Gods, it's intoxicating. I promise to make it just as pleasurable for you."

How easy it would be to say yes. Let him take what he wants and wait for the next time he wants something from you. But you weren't his little chew toy, just waiting for whenever he deems you worthy enough for attention. No, he needs to learn.

"Beg." You demand, twirling out of his grasp and pushing him away gently.

"What?" Astarion pauses, disbelief written across his face as if he misheard you.

"Beg." You repeat, your words slipping from your lips mockingly slowly.

"Are you serious?"

You meet his gaze with unwavering resolve, waiting for him to comply. As realization dawns, Astarion's expression shifts to amusement.

"Joking doesn't suit you, dear," he scoffs, his laughter echoing through the clearing.

Silent and persistent, you hold his gaze, a smirk playing at the corner of your lips. His eyes drift to the faint scar beneath your chin, a silent reminder. Wetting his lips, Astarion clears his throat before looking at you, clearly trying to grapple for the upper hand.

"Must we really play this song and dance?" He asks.

"If you want my blood, this is how you'll get it."

You hold firm, with your arms crossed over your chest. Astarion stares at you as if seeing you for the first time, and a mix of emotions storms behind his eyes. His body seems to deflate, coming to terms with the fact that you won't back down. Licking his lips, Astarion swallows hard and opens his mouth to speak.

"Darling," he murmurs through gritted teeth, his posture betraying his inner turmoil. "Allow me a taste of your exquisite blood. I'm starving and beg for your mercy."

"On your knees," you command softly, relishing the power that surges between you. "And I want a please this time."

Astarion looks at you with wide eyes. "Must I degrade myself further?" The anticipation in his voice betrays his reluctance to give in to you. "You've already gotten what you've wanted."

Biting your lip, you step closer and delicately cup his jaw, your touch gentle but commanding, and bring Astarion's lips tantalizingly close to yours. "I'll let you have your fill of my blood and more if you want. But only if you're a good boy and listen." Astarion breath leaves his lungs in a shuddering gasp, all fight seeping from his body.

"You are a cruel woman."

With a resigned sigh, Astarion sinks to his knees. His silver curls reflect the golden light filtering through the forest canopy. His back is pin straight, and his neck is arched up to look at you with his deep crimson eyes. You can't help but focus on the bob of his Adam's apple as he swallows again.

"I beg, please allow me the privilege to taste your tantalizing blood," he starts, but you zone out the rest of his words, focusing more on Astarion himself.

You focused on how his shirt hugs his chest, the cotton straining in some places while loose in others. You noticed how blue his veins are, just under his pale skin. You see how his pants seemed tight in the front, something stiff straining against the thick fabric.

Wait. Oh. Now that is interesting.

You pounce before you can think things through, mind moving more on instinct than anything else. Astarion's plea for you is replaced with a yelp as you push him on his back and straddle his lap.

"Wh-what are you?" he stutters before letting out a pathetic moan he will most certainly deny later.

You capture his mouth in a heated kiss. Your tongue runs over the seam of his lips, and when Astarion allows you access, you lick into his mouth. Your tongues twirl in a practiced dance as you deepen the kiss. Astarion groans into your mouth. A hand moves up to cup your head, fingers combing through your hair.

"Astarion," you purr breathlessly, rolling your front against the vampire's growing bulge. You press your body closer against his, practically willing yourself to melt into him. "Did begging for me get you all excited?"

"Excuse you? No! Don't be ridiculous," he tries to deny but fails when another moan rakes through his chest with another turn of your hips.

"Look at you, all hard and needy." You lick up the column of his throat, stopping to playfully bite at his ear before whispering. "Do you like being my good boy, Astarion?"

"Shit! You're being ridiculous," Astarion pants, his hand tightening on your hips to cease your ministrations. "You're rubbing against me like a desperate virgin. Any man would get aroused."

Humming calmly, you sit back on your haunches and remove your shirt, tossing the garment into the bushes. Astarion's eyes immediately wander your exposed skin, drinking in the sight of your body. You take your bra off and trail your fingers over your nipples. Astarion lets out a pitiful groan.

"That's disappointing," you pout out your lip, trying to conceal a smile. "I was going to reward you for being so good."

"Darling, I think this is reward enough, so long as we end this with my teeth in your pretty neck."

"That's good to know," you chuckle, trailing a hand down the valley of your breast and over the planes of your stomach, stopping just shy of your waistband. "I'll enjoy this reward for both of us.

Astarion's brows scrunch slightly in confusion before zeroing in on your hand as you teasingly slip under the waistband of your pants and past your folds. Sighing softly, you begin to tease your clit with the pad of your finger, staring down at Astarion, who looks as if he might just have an aneurysm.

He cools his features with a smug smirk, idly trailing his hand up your side. "A show and then dinner? My dear, you're not as good at this teasing as you think, but I admire your effort."

One of Astarion's icy hands works up to your side, leaving goosebumps in its wake. The other grips your hip and begins to rock you against his stiff erection. You involuntarily gasp at the friction, allowing the vampire a moment of control.

Astarion ruts against you, letting out a grunt when you grind down with equal enthusiasm. Then suddenly, Astarion's hands are ripped from your body and pinned to the ground as you rise further, removing any contact between the two of you.

"What?" Astarion exclaims before looking to the side. Little vines sprout from the ground, binding his hands to the hard earth. "Gods, you wretched thing."

Clicking your tongue, you grin wickedly down at the trapped man. "Only good boys get to touch."

"Darling, must we continue this?" Astarion groans in frustration, tugging at your vines, annoyed when they don't give. "We both want this. You're the one making things difficult."

"Maybe, but only because I love hearing you beg for me. Now, unless you're going to give me what I want." You resume your ministrations, moaning as you dip a finger into your neglected hole. "Keep quiet,"

"At least remove your trousers!"

"Don't make me gag that pretty mouth of yours, Astarion."

Astarion fumes from underneath you, but you can see the cracks forming, the dilated pupils, the rapidly falling chest as he pants for breath he doesn't need, and the way he tugs against his bindings even though he knows nothing will give. You know he'll break. He already did once he had a bit more incentive.

Adding another finger, you start to pump in and out of your dripping cunt; an audible squelching noise can be heard with each dip of your hand. You moan, dropping your head back. Circling your puffy clit with your thumb, you rock against your hand, your other one snaking up your body to tease your breast.

"Astarion," you breathe out, smirking when you hear the man's frustrated groan. "Gods, I'm so wet, making a mess, squeezing my fingers so tight."

"You are killing me all over again, sweetheart," Astarion cries; his hips are desperately trying to move against you, but another vine wraps around his stomach, holding him down.

"Just say the word's Star," you say, pinching your nipple and rolling it between your fingers. A whine rips from your throat when you curl your fingers up and hit that spongy spot, which has a familiar burning sensation that starts coiling in your gut. "Fuck, say the words, and it could be you making me feel this good. Won't you be my good boy?"

"Gods," He bites back another moan, slamming his head in the dirt.

"I'm so close," you whimper, moving your thumb faster against your clit. "Just imagine it could have been your cock I'm clenching around, not my fingers. Could have been you that's making a mess of me." Looking down, you see Astarion all flustered, mouth agape, and hair a mess of frizzy curls, his whole body practically buzzing with need. It was enough to send you over the edge cumming around your fingers with a choked sob.

This finally broke the man. "Fine, okay! Please, please let me go!" Astarion pleads, voice ragged and needy. "Just let me touch you. I'll do anything you want, please. Gods, please, please, please!"

Suddenly, the vines vanish, and your lips are again on his. Astarion's pleas muffle against your mouth and quickly morph into a satisfied grunt when he bites his lip. Now that he's finally free, Astarion's quick to roll the two of you and pin you against the cold earth. Nestled between your thighs, Astarion starts mindlessly tearing at his clothes, his mouth trailing sloppy open-mouth kisses down your neck and to your chest.

"You are an evil woman." Astarion murmurs against the skin between your breasts. Slipping one of your nipples into his mouth, he begins to suck, and you gasp, arching your back into him.

"Astarion, fuck!"

A hand curls into his hair, your nails raking against his scalp, causing him to hum against your chest, sending a jolt of pleasure up your spine. You feel his hands move to your pants, tugging them down your hips, dragging your drenched underwear with them.

A cold finger trails through your warm cunt, and you shiver at the feeling. "I must admit, darling, I quite like it when you take charge, but," His voice rumbles against your skin, and you whine at the feeling of his fangs teasing your swollen nipple. "My patience has grown thin, so if it's okay with you, your good boy will take his reward now." His finger teases your entrance, barely dipping in.

You clench, choking on the gasp that bubbles up your throats. "Yes! Gods, please fuck me!"

Astarion cups the back of your head and kisses you deeply. Feeling his hard cock swipe through your cunt, your gasp into his mouth, your hand coming up to hold his face. He presses into you, and you pull away from his lips, moaning at the stretch of his cock, filling you to the brim. Astarion peppers feather light kisses over your face and neck as he bottoms out and waits for you to nudge him to continue.

Throwing one of your legs over his shoulder, Astarion pulls out almost entirely before impaling you again and sets a steady pace. A pace has your toes curling and you feeling breathless with each delicious drag of his cock against your walls. You don't think you'll get over the feeling of Astarion inside you, feeling the ridges rub against you in all the perfect ways as if he has the only manual to tear you apart with mind-numbing pleasure.

"Ugh-Always so tight," he grunts into your neck, "So perfect, just for me."

"Astarion!" You dig your nails into his shoulders and buck against each of his thrusts. "Faster, please!"

Astarion picks up the pace; your collective sounds of pleasure mingle together in the air, and the sound of skin slapping against skin echoes around the clearing. Astarion's forehead drops against yours, and both of your noses brush against each other as he breathes in every whimper and moan of ecstasy you give him with each drag of his cock against your walls. Snaking a hand between your conjoined bodies, his nimble fingers swirl around your clit in time with each grind of his hips.

Another moan rolls off your tongue, and soon, that warmth blossoms once again in the pit of your stomach. "D-don't stop," you plead, hands running up his chest to wrap around his shoulder. "M' close."

Astarion nuzzles at your neck and inhales your scent, groaning at a particularly tight squeeze of your cunt. Even after all the begging and pleading you put him through, he still silently asks before he takes a bite. The thought warms your heart and is something you'll have to reflect on later.

"Yes! Please, bite me!" You whimper, clutching the back of his neck and pressing him close.

The sharp sting of ice pierces your neck, and you cry out against the pain. Astarion pays special attention to your clit, applying pressure and dragging his thumb around the swollen bud, his way of helping you through the initial sting. After a moment, the pain resides in mind-numbing pleasure, and soon, everything becomes too much.

Astarion consumes you. His hand caressing your body, his mouth lavishing your neck, his cock hitting you perfectly in spots only he seems to know how to reach. It's all too much, and soon tears prick at your eyes, and the heat in your lower stomach bursts, draining lava into your veins. Your nails dig into the flesh of Astarion's shoulders as you scream out his name, body spasming around the pleasure that courses through your body.

This seems to be enough to push Astarion over the edge with you. Still drinking mouthfuls of your blood, Astarion is rutting into you, grinding your pelvis against the solid earth. His moans hum against your skin, and his thrust becomes sloppy before a rush of heat gushes inside you as Astarion cums.

With a few more gulps of blood and a few more thrusts of his hips, you whimper with overstimulation. Astarion removes his mouth from your body, licking any stray droplets. He rolls onto his back, dragging you with him until your head is lying on his chest. You whine at the loss of fullness, cringing at the feeling of your combined release that begins to drip down your legs.

"That was…" Astarion trails off, seeming to be at a loss for words.

"Way better than the tiefling party." You mumble against his chest, smirking at the snort he makes.

"Yes, I would be inclined to agree."

"So you admit it," you tease, trailing your thumb over Astarion's nipple. "You liked begging for me."

"I wouldn't… mind if you took charge again," Astarion says, skirting around your claim.

"Whatever protects your ego." You tilt your head up. "Hey, Star?"

Astarion hums in acknowledgment, but his eyes are closed, his body seeping into a comfortable stillness. You note something he didn't allow himself to do at the party. Reaching your hand up, you run your fingers along his jaw, coaxing his eyes open.

"Next time, don't ignore me for a week to ask for my blood. I don't want you hungry. I care about you."

Astarion seems to freeze at your words as if he's never heard a caring word said to him. The thought alone makes you want to hunt this Cazador down and flay him for all of Baldur's gate to see.

Astarion opens his mouth to speak, but no words escape. He clears his throat and tries again. "Yes, that will certainly make things easier from now on."

The two of you lay there in silence, just enjoying the feeling of each other's skin against the other. Soon, when the sky turns to ombres of blues, pinks, and purples, you decide it's time to return to camp. Astarion is quiet for the journey back; an air of contemplation clings to his being. You don't push. Goodnights were said, and you parted ways, feeling like something had changed. Everything may have changed.

Heya, it's been crazy, but I finally got some time and energy to finish up this piece I've been working on for a while. I hope Astarion's not too out of character for as earlier of act one, I just liked the idea. I hope you all enjoyed, let me know what ya thought!

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#astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion #reader insert #bg3 astarion #astarion ancunin #bg3 #astarion smut #astarion fic #fanfic #astarion imagine

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generalsmemories · 1 year ago

Text

Unwanted reunion

✧ jing yuan x gn!reader

✧ prompts: “catching the other one crying shortly after an argument and immediately feeling an overwhelming wave of guilt crash onto you.” + "it's okay, we can fix this..." + “playing with their hair until they fall asleep”|| 1k event

✧ contents: hurt/comfort, angst, established relationship, implied character death

✧ a/n: if u wonder how in the world i came up with the scenario below. i genuinely don't know either it's a mystery to even me. CREATIVE LIBERTY WINS AGAIN THE PROMPTS WERE LITERALLY INSPO AND NOT WRITTEN DIRECTLY INTO THE SCENARIO. also implied that this took place after the battle with phantylia so keep that in mind.

NOT BETA-READ AS USUAL FELLAS I WANTED TO HAND THIS OVER TO YA'LL ASAP AS AN APOLOGY FOR STARVING YOU ALL FOR SO LONG!! it's mild angst though, so sorry.

Jing Yuan's can feel a familiar heaviness weigh on his body as well as the feeling of someone wrapping a roll of gauze on his arm. However opening his eyes proved to be a challenge in itself and it's only with great struggle that he can manage to force them slightly open to the bright light.

The first thing he notices is the familiar ceiling of your shared home. A bit weird since whenever he did get injured he would immediately be rushed towards a private room by the Seat of Divine Foresight - which was the safest place for him to stay. Perhaps you had gotten your will again to take care of him - seeing as you're a high ranking healer yourself and quite a stubborn soul.

But his eyes still widen a tiny bit when he sees you sitting by the edge of the bed, one hand gripping his gauzed wound while your other hand is busy trying to find something to keep your hard work in place. You're humming a soft tune again, he never knows what sort of melody you're humming, only that it had become a habit for you after the amount of years you had spent by his side bandaging his battle wounds. Something about helping your mood and staying positive.

"Your recklessness knows no bounds, Jing Yuan." the sternness of your voice snaps him out of the daze he's in, immediately rising up from the bed only to groan in pain when the wounds that you had just wrapped up react to his body folding, "... And still don't know when to rest - even when I'm in the middle of treating you."

"...How much time has passed?" he asks, voice hoarse after having slept for who knows how long. You only hum, setting the bandages aside - the gesture causing Jing Yuan to follow your hand movements which makes him notice the bloodied bandages inside the trash by your legs.

"A couple of days, I was just finishing changing your bandages when you finally woke up. Here, some water." you inform, raising a glass towards his lips, patiently waiting for him to move closer.

You only start to speak again after he's taken several gulps, placing the cup of water back on the nightstand beside his bed. "Why are you so willing to throw your life away?" you ask after a moment of silence, helping Jing Yuan rest against the headboard, eyes never leaving his own that don't dare to even look into your own.

"It's my duty-"

"Your duty is to make sure as many of the Cloud Knights survive a battle. Not gamble your life on a piece that you weren't sure had the capabilities to help."

Jing Yuan bites his tongue at your immediate rebuttal, you were right after all. "The Master Diviner was right there by you. A troop was enough to guard the entrance, you didn't need to leave the master diviner with them to go on this-"

"... Can't you be happy for once whenever we meet like this?" he asks quietly, effectively stopped you from saying anything more. His gaze is cast downwards whenever he mutters the same question to you whilst shrinking a bit after asking. There's no sign of the proud general in your presence - in front of you is just Jing Yuan asking a supposedly harmless question.

Perhaps that's the reason why you can never shove him away immediately.

"... You know what my answer is."

Jing Yuan was no crier. In fact, you think he stopped crying or showing any visible sign of discomfort or uneasiness the day he got the title as General. You're pretty sure you can count the amount of times you've seen Jing Yuan cry on one hand.

Perhaps his ability to hide his own needs and wants so often day by day for the past centuries makes your dismissal of his simple wishes that more gut-wrenching for you. You try to ignore the overwhelming guilt that washes over you every time you have to say the same thing to him.

"... You have a lot of things that you want to get done on the Luofu, Jing Yuan." you murmur softly, extending a hand to run your fingers through his locks, breaking apart any knots that may have formed in his sleep.

"You know we can meet again, but now is not the time - especially now," you gently remind with a sombre smile, your hand moving from his hair to rest against his chin to make him face you.

"It's gonna be alright, okay?" he scoffs at your reassurance, finally coming to terms with your conditions once again like always, wrapping his arms around your waist to fall down back on the bed with you on top.

"Remember the last time you said those words to me?" he says, almost sounding offended at your choice of words to which you only smile against his skin in guilt.

"It was the first time I saw you cry so hard," you try to joke, pressing your hands against the mattress to push yourself off of Jing Yuan, choosing to hover above him instead.

"... I'm sorry," you decide to say in the end after a moment of silence, once again threading your fingers through his hair - an act you knew used to calm him before. At this moment though, you're not so sure.

"Why? Shouldn't I be sorry?" he asks in return, a small yawn leaving his lips as his eyes struggle to stay open. You smile bitterly as you shake your head, still threading your fingers through his hair.

"No, none of it was your fault - what happened back then was out of your control. But this time it isn't. I can wait for a long time, Jing Yuan. I know you're aware of that so don't try to rush anything to meet me again." you tell him, leaning down to press your lips against his forehead.

"So it's time to wake up, dear. Luofu is waiting for you."

#honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #star rail x you #hsr x you #hsr imagines #honkai star rail imagines #star rail imagines #jing yuan x reader

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captainsophiestark · 10 months ago

Text

Head of the Family

Anthony Bridgerton x Reader

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Written for my personal fic writing challenge for 2024, Sophie's Year of Fic! Featuring a new fic being posted every Friday, all year long :)

Fandom: Bridgerton

Summary: Anthony and his wife are moments away from leaving for their wedding anniversary second-honeymoon, when the demands of the family threaten to delay their departure significantly.

Word Count: 2,446

Category: Fluff

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

I smiled, already pushing open the door to my husband's office even as I knocked. We were due to leave for a month long anniversary trip together, and I'd just finished securing the last of our preparations. Now, the final step was rounding up Anthony from his duties as Viscount.

If it had been up to him, I knew he would've thrown every last piece of paper in the trash if it meant leaving with me a moment sooner for our trip. But most of his family relied on him to run the estate for all their wellbeing, and he had to make sure things would stay in order even while we were away. When I stepped through into the room from the hallway, I found him leaning over a stack of papers on his desk, one hand tangled in his hair and the other scribbling away. He didn't even look up as I entered the room.

"Apologies, my love," he mumbled, still writing as I shut the door gently behind me and crossed the room to his desk. "I am almost done, and then we will be free to shut out the world once again and enjoy our time, just the two of us, however we like."

"I truly cannot wait," I replied, a devilish smirk pulling at the corner of my mouth as I settled in to perch on the edge of his desk. "Is there anything I can do to help speed along the process?"

"I wish, but sadly there is not. Fortunately for both of us, this is my last document to complete, and once it is done we will be free to leave."

As if Anthony's words had summoned her from the ether, as soon as he'd finished speaking, a knock came at the door to his study. A moment later, without waiting for a response from Anthony or myself, Eloise pushed open the door and stepped inside.

"Oh good, you are both here," she said, her shoulders noticably relaxing when she caught sight of me. Anthony paused his writing to close his eyes and sigh as Eloise crossed the room and plopped into one of the chairs directly before Anthony's desk. I fought a smile. "I have a... slight situation, which I need to make you aware of."

I bit the inside of my lip to hold back a laugh or a sigh, although I wasn't sure which my body would've manifested. I adored Eloise, but in this family, 'situations' most often meant 'boarderline scandal', and I had a bad feeling whatever Eloise's situation would entail may delay Anthony and I's departure much longer than either of us wanted.

"What is it, Eloise?" I asked after getting a hold of myself, making a point of keeping my tone even and patient. She glanced nervously from me to Anthony, who had resumed work on the document before him.

"I need both of your attention, actually," she said, a slight edge of irritation in her voice directed at her brother. "That is, if it isn't too much trouble."

Anthony let out a sigh, the duration as long as it took for him to finish writing his last notes on the last document standing between us and our vacation. He set it aside, then finally turned his attention to his sister.

"What is it, Eloise?"

"I may have... a bit of a problem on my hands." I raised an eyebrow, and I could see Anthony working his jaw. Eloise glanced between us, and I tried to keep an open expression on my face to encourage her. It must have worked, because after a moment, she continued. "It seems there is a Lord who took my jokes about marriage more seiously than I intended. I think... he may be coming to you to ask for my hand very soon, and you must tell him no."

"Eloise-"

Anthony barely managed to get his sister's name out before the door to the study came swinging open again, this time revealing Francesca striding through the door.

"Oh, I am glad I caught the both of you before you departed for your trip," she said, looking to me and Anthony before her eyes at last fell on Eloise, and she frowned. "Is this not a good time?"

"What's one more?" said Anthony with a tight smile. I hid a laugh behind my hand. Anthony was always the dutiful older brother, although he wasn't always good at hiding his occasional irritation with the role. Fortunately, his sisters either didn't notice or didn't care.

"I need to speak with you about wedding arrangements, Anthony," said Francesca, taking a seat next to Eloise. "Especially since the two of you will be gone for so long, I do not want to leave all the planning to the last minute if I can avoid it."

"Alright, well-"

This time, an almost cacophanous noise from the hallway served as the interruption. As if they'd known we were gathering, and that Anthony and I were almost free of our responsibilities, the remaining four Bridgerton children living in the house appeared, practically wrestling through the door and paired off in arguments. Hyacinth made it to us first, Colin trailing right behind her, neither of them giving their seated sisters a second glance as they addressed Anthony.

"Colin intends to marry someone!" Hyacinth cried over the noise of the rest of us. "We made a bet that if I bested him at pall-mall, he would tell me who, but now he is refusing-"

"Hyacinth, enough!" Colin broke in, shouting over his sister to no avail.

"He is going to have to tell you at some point anyway, Anthony, so it may as well be now so as to honor the terms of our bet-"

"I am not required to tell you or anyone else in this family until I desire to, Hyacinth-"

"Except that you made a bet, Colin, and are now being a sore loser."

Anthony sighed, his attention turning to the last pair, Benedict and Gregory, while Hyacinth and Colin continued to bicker before him. I reached out and gently rested a hand on his shoulder, although I doubted it did much to help.

"I told Benedict I want to learn what it takes to run a household like this," Gregory said, taking Anthony's attention as his cue to start explaining.

"And I told him to come ask you," Benedict said, flopping comfortable into a chair to one side of the room, closer to me. He leaned back, getting comfortable as he watched the scene playing out before him, not reacting to Gregory's scowl.

"But I want to learn sooner rather than later, so it has to be him!" Gregory continued, giving Benedict another stink eye. "He's going to be taking care of things while you're gone, and with the two of you, who knows how long that's going to be!"

I stifled a laugh as Gregory gestured to Anthony and I. He was right, we did have a tendancy to extend our trips beyond their planned length, in the name of spending more time just the two of us.

Anthony took a deep breath and closed his eyes, then snapped back to attention with a huffy sigh.

"Alright, Gregory-"

"What? Gregory? I was here first, and I assure you my issue is more pressing," Eloise broke in. Anthony turned to her with a clenched jaw.

"Fine, Eloise, then tell me-"

"Hyacinth, really! That is unladylike language! Anthony, did you hear what she just called me?"

"I meant it, and I will say it again if I must, Colin!"

Anthony growled, ripping his attention from Eloise to the next sibling in line. Everyone continued to talk over each other, the noise in the room rising as rapidly as Anthony's frustration. Normally, I would've been proud of him for taking the calmer, more patient approach with his siblings, but clearly that wasn't going to work in this case.

I let the chaos continue for another few moments while I counted to ten in my head. When it showed no signs of slowing down, and in fact seemed to be spiralling even more out of control, I put my fingers in my mouth and let out a long, earsplitting whistle that I normally reserved for getting someone's attention a long way off in the vast countryside outdoors.

Everyone in the room stopped mid-sentence and whirled around to look at me with wide eyes. I looked right back, head high and one eyebrow raised.

"That is quite enough, from all of you," I said, my tone at a normal level and much calmer than any of the Bridgerton siblings. "First of all, Francesca, I'm afraid your wedding plans will have to wait until we return. Think about them and plan what you can, and I promise Anthony and I will both make time to go over everything with you the minute we are back in this house."

Francesca nodded and gave me a small smile.

"That works just fine. I did not realize how... pressed upon by my other siblings you would be in the final moments before you leave."

That got a round of insulted outbursts, but they all quieted down again and returned their attention to me when I pointedly cleared my throat. Francesca had always loved me for my unique ability to at least temporarily usher in peace in the household.

I turned my attention to Benedict, with slightly narrowed eyes.

"You," I said, letting the word hang in the air for a moment. Benedict had the decency to look concerned. "You are going to let Gregory shadow you. He wants to learn, so let him. It won't hurt you any, and if he feels he still has more to learn when we return, then Anthony can take him."

Benedict huffed and crossed his arms, so I kept my stare on him for a few long moments. While it wouldn't matter much whether he followed through on our promise while we were gone, for all our sakes I didn't want to come home to find they'd been fighting and having issues the entire time Anthony and I had been away. After a moment, Benedict rolled his eyes, but also nodded, which was enough to satisfy me.

"Good. Then Hyacinth, Colin does not have to tell you anything about whom he is intending to pursue if he does not want to. And, like the rest of us, we cannot do more than simply guess."

Colin crossed his arms and smiled, looking quite satisfied with himself, but I maintained significant eye contact with Hyacinth. So far, she had correctly guessed the affections of all of her siblings before any of the siblings in question were ready to admit those affections, even to themselves. With Colin especially, I knew she had an idea who he was intending to pursue, and she didn't need his confirmation to be confident in being correct. We'd all seen how he'd been acting around Penelope lately.

The corner of Hyacinth's mouth quirked up in a quick smile, and she gave me a nod. I returned the gesture, then turned at last to Eloise.

"Finally, Eloise. Since when do you need your brother to empower you to turn a man down? You know you have our full support, with whomever you decide to reject or accept."

Eloise raised an eyebrow and cut her stare towards Anthony. I heard him sigh beside me, but when I turned to him, he nodded his agreement with my statement, so I continued.

"El, if this man has truly gotten it in his head to marry you and you do not feel the same, simply tell him so. If he proposes, turn him down, knowing full well that your family stands behind you. Since when have you needed your brother to speak your mind for you?"

Eloise scoffed and scowled, then stood and squared her shoulders. She shot an especially strong glare at Anthony as she spoke.

"I don't."

Anthony flung his hands out at the unwarranted hostility directed his way, but Eloise and I ignored him.

"You are absolutely right you don't. If you need our help you will have it, Eloise, as you always have our support. But I know you, and I know you are capabale of telling this man to leave you alone without help. And I think you may even enjoy it."

The corner of Eloise's mouth turned up again, more noticably this time, and she nodded. With all the siblings' various issues sorted, they were much calmer, nodding their thanks in my direction and largely ignoring poor Anthony as they filed out the way they'd come in with much less chaos. Once the door to the study closed behind the last of them, I turned to my husband with a smile. The intensity of his stare almost made me melt on the spot.

"Have I told you lately that you are, beyond a doubt, the perfect woman?"

I laughed, leaning into Anthony as he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me into his lap. His hand found its way to the back of my neck, gently pulling me into a heated kiss. I let myself be swept away with him for a few moments, indulging in the kiss and resting my hands on his chest, but pulled away with a laugh as Anthony's hands started wandering places inappropriate for his office, when his siblings had just barged in a moment ago.

Anthony frowned and let out a dissatisfied grunt, attempting to tug me back into his chest, but I didn't let him.

"Anthony, we are about to leave for our travels together, celebrating our time as husband and wife. We will have plenty of opportunity to continue this somewhere we cannot be interrupted by your family."

"Damn them," Anthony breathed, leaning forward to match my movement. "I only care about you."

"Hmm, and I you, my love. But consider this: every additional moment we delay our departure in this house, is another moment one of your siblings may return with a new problem for us to address."

Anthony paused, considering my words for a moment. Then, he sprang up, sweeping me into his arms and carrying me with him.

"You make an excellent point. I think it is time for us to away, Mrs. Bridgerton. We can finish our other business in the carriage on our way out of town."

I laughed as Anthony pulled me after him from the room, leaving all the work and pressure that came with being Viscount in the office behind us. His family, despite their earlier demonstration, could manage perfectly well without us, at least for a time. And we'd each more than earned a break for just the two of us. As always, everything here would be waiting for us when we returned.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989 @space-helen

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my-my-my · 3 months ago

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can you request jealous sex with yhwach x reader wife?

What a challenge!! I'm not sure if I nailed Yhwach's character quite the way I wanted to, but nonetheless, I had fun writing this. The only context behind this story is on the theory/headcanon that Yhwach has been reincarnated several times, and as such has been killed as many times.

This takes place prior to the 1000 Year Blood War/before the first Quincy-Shinigami war.

Summary: Birth, death, and rebirth. The cycle continues and you wait patiently as Yhwach returns to you as your husband. But this reincarnation tests you on your devotion and love.

CW: MDNI! Jealousy, early finish, cum eating, oral sex/face sitting (fem receiving), angst, minimal foreplay.

Word count: 2048

Read on AO3.

The first time Yhwach died, you wept endlessly. A boy birthed to be slaughtered, and you a little girl witnessing the brutality of Qunicies, humans and Shinigami alike.

His reincarnations remained as gentle as you remember. You waited for him patiently through the ages as he continued to grow for the Quincies, yet he continued to die for them as well. Birth, death, birth and death. No matter how many times you intervened trying to protect him, your husband would suffer the same cruelty.

And maybe this reincarnation was retribution for all his prior deaths.

Hatred filled the air when you saw Yhwach’s army slaughter your village.

Bitter was the taste of his blood pouring down your throat.

Rage echoed through your voice as you cried at him.

Yhwach would never bare his emotions so freely, yet you would do so for him. His other half as he would say, unlike Jugram who bore similar abilities to your husband. You were the manifestation of something else entirely, or so he claimed.

But you knew differently. You experienced things differently. You would clench your fists whenever you two spoke over meals. Glare at the soldats listening passionately to their leader, rallying them together to kill Shinigami.

It was too much for you. Your heart would pang as he doled out praises and the very rare compliments to his soldiers. You angrily pulled the curtain away in disgust as you watched the soldiers scrambling to Yhwach’s beck and call.

“Ah, is my lady suffering from a bout of anger?” A sneering voice echoed down the hall.

You rolled your eyes as the vice-commander of Yhwach’s army, Hubert, strolled into your view.

“It is none of your concern, Vice-Commander.” You murmured, walking past him towards your private study.

“But you see, it is my concern.” Hubert smirked, as he grabbed hold of your wrist, “Lord Yhwach instructed Captain Haschwalth to watch and keep you company while he’s away on his travels.”

“Travels?” You whispered. This was the first you were hearing of this. Your stomach turned in knots as anger flashed through your eyes.

Hubert’s smirk widened, “and he didn’t tell you? That’s a shame, he shouldn’t keep his lady in waiting.” You scoffed at his remark and pulled your hand away.

“My husband will let me know in due time. He probably thought it wasn’t important enough to discuss.” You murmured, though you didn’t believe your words, and with the way Hubert looked at you, he didn’t believe you either.

“Leave the lady majesty alone, Vice-Commander Hubert.” Jugram spoke, as he walked towards the two of you. You had only interacted with Commander Haschwalth on a few occasions, a man of few words, yet received high praises from your husband.

Hubert scoffed as made his way to the garrison, leaving you alone with Jugram.

“My lady, I’m sorry to keep you waiting. I will escort you to your study now.” Jugram murmured, bowing to you. You nodded your head as the two of you walked in silence down the empty halls.

Jugram stood silently as you poured over your books, writing down notes, murmuring to yourself as you tried to learn more about the nature of Quincies and hollows. The setting sun dimming the library, startling you with how much time had passed. And still, Jugram stood silently, awaiting your commands. With his arm extended, he led you to the dining hall, where Yhwach awaited.

And Yhwach never did bring up his plan to travel – leaving you alone in your shared bedroom, as he rode with his platoon at dawn.

It had been two weeks with Yhwach away and Jugram’s attention on you. It unnerved you at first, how dutiful Jugram was to you, attending to your whims and even your fleets of fancy. But now a small part of you… relished this feeling, of being doted on and attended to. Behind Jugram’s stoic demeanor was a devoted soldier to your husband’s cause and that included you it seemed.

You were lost in conversation with Jugram, discussing the new book you picked up in the nearby town. When was the last time you laughed with your husband? Smiled and had a conversation that didn’t revolve around the Quincies and Shinigami? It was strange too, Jugram reminded you of the favourite parts of your husband. A wry smile crossed your lips as you remembered old memories of your time together.

It was refreshing… and sad. And with Jugram’s hand over yours, you felt like you were a world away from that life of brutality. But nothing more would come from it, you knew that much. Jugram would never cross that line, and neither would you. The strange, almost supernatural devotion the two of you shared for husband was the clear line in the sand.

You watched through the window of the great hall as Yhwach and his platoon were welcomed back into the castle on a successful excursion mission. A mission you were not privy to. You narrowed your eyes as the soldiers congratulated themselves, while Yhwach spoke to Jugram privately in the distance. You read your name being said off Yhwach’s lips, before he looked up at you.

You sighed and left the window. Dread and anxiety were pooling inside you as you instructed the chefs to cook your husband’s favourites and that his favourite wine be poured tonight. A feast wasn’t necessary, but for some reason, you felt like you owed him that much. You wondered what Yhwach had asked, no said, of you to Jugram in that brief moment you saw.

The dining hall was loud, filled with cheer as the soldiers continued to celebrate. A few words were said from Yhwach as he continued to echo the greater cause they were all fighting for, that this was a small step to the foundation of peace. You wanted to laugh, but kept quiet. The silence between you two went unnoticed by everyone else in the room.

Yhwach had requested your presence in waving farewell to the soldiers as they departed to their barracks. You gave them all a soft smile and a gentle wave as they departed under the moonlight.

“Jugram has told me of what you have been up to these past few weeks.”

You felt the hair on the back of your neck stand, anxiety crawling your body as Yhwach’s large hand found its way to yours.

You gave a nervous laugh, “he’s quite the gentleman, humouring my rambles.” Yhwach’s grip on your hand tightened, but not enough to cause you pain as the two of you made way to your bedchamber.

The door shut firmly, with Yhwach snapping his fingers to close the curtains, the lights mysteriously dimming.

“You must be tired, my majesty.” You whispered, as you cupped his cheek, feeling the faint stubble of his facial hair under your palm. “Let’s get you ready for bed.” You let your hand fall towards his chest, fingers hovering over the buttons of his uniform.

But Yhwach grabbed your wrist before you could do anything.

“Is that all Jugram did, ‘humour’ you?” He commanded.

You glared at him, and in a mocking tone said “I thought jealousy was an emotion beneath you, my lord.” Yhwach narrowed his eyes as he let go of your wrists. “And besides, it’s insulting not only to me,” you snapped, “but to Commander Haschwalth as well.”

“Here I was, thinking you might have missed me.” You murmured, “but instead” refusing to lose your eye contact with him, “you imagine scenarios of things that would never happen. What use is the Almighty –”

“Silence!” Yhwach bellowed as you rolled your eyes.

“What did Commander Haschwalth tell you?” Giving him a wicked smile, you began to strip in front of him “did he share with you what I shared with him? The Yhwach of youth? The Yhwach that protected the Quincies?”

Yhwach remained silent, watching you as the candlelight illuminated your beautiful figure.

“No, that wouldn’t be right. Yhwach – the Father of Qunicies, sees all.” You laughed, as the last bits of your clothing laid strewn on the floor. “You know exactly what we discussed, and yet you have the nerve to be jealous.”

Yhwach scoffed, but didn’t look away from you.

“No, you weren’t jealous of Jugram at all.” You chuckled, as you brought your naked body close to his clothed one, “you were jealous of yourself.” You murmured softly, cupping his face, bringing him closer to you. Your lips brushed against his, “jealous of what we had before…”

Yhwach closed his eyes tightly as his arms wrapped themselves around you, pulling you closer. His body grew warmer with your presence so close.

“Do you remember when we made love for the first time?” You whispered, as he brought you to the bed. “The very first time.” You gazed lovingly at him, as his brown, almost red eyes stared back at you.

Yhwach remained silent as he kissed you back softly. His body was hot to touch as his stubble pricked your skin. He pulled away from you as you tried to catch your breath.

He hastily undid his uniform, throwing it haphazardly on to the ground. His broad chest with a smattering of hair and faded scars, scars etched from centuries ago, from lifetimes ago. You trailed your fingers gently over him, taking time to run your fingers against them.

But Yhwach was impatient tonight, as he pushed you back on to the bed. He bit down gently on your neck, before making his way to your breasts. His fingers pinched and pulled on your nipples as you cried out his name. His lips soon replaced his fingers as he nipped at your breasts, leaving you wanton and panting. Out of reflex, you spread your legs for him, unashamed of how wet you were.

Lifting himself up, he watched in amusement as you spread your pussy lips apart from him, your fingers circling your clit. You licked your lips as his large shaft trickled with precum.

Yhwach tapped his cock against your clit, smearing the precum and your juices against each other. You whined loudly, before Yhwach grabbed your throat, his fingers flexing, tightening your airway.

And you only grew wetter.

Without a moment to spare, Yhwach entered you in one swift thrust, moaning your name as you cried out from the stretch of his length. Yhwach stayed still inside you, as you clenched around, feeling him full and deep inside your pussy.

But that didn’t last long. Yhwach grabbed your hips and roughly slammed himself inside you as you rasped his name, almost in a chant. You could tell he wasn’t going to last long, neither of you had been pleasured in ages, and without so much a warning, Yhwach spilled himself inside you.

You smiled as he rolled over, panting deeply as his thick, softening cock twitched with remaining spurts of cum trickling out. You found yourself between his legs, tasting your juices as you cleaned his cock, while pushing two fingers inside you, keeping his cum buried deep inside.

Yhwach called your name, pulling your hair as he lifted you up. You winced at the pain but once upright, he grabbed your hips, pulling your dripping cunt against his face. His facial hair pricked your sensitive spots as he flicked his tongue over your clit. You moaned deeply as he feasted on your cunt with an intense need. You threaded your fingers through his black hair, as you grounded your pussy against his face.

Incoherent words filled the room as you desperately chased your orgasm, before screaming Yhwach’s name, covering his face in your juices.

Your body twitched above him before he pulled you down, bringing you close to his chest. Your eyes were closed as you tried to calm yourself with Yhwach’s steady heartbeat helping you.

Yhwach’s deep, baritone voice startled you as he called your name, “that pleased you compared to before.” He remarked. You wondered if he meant to ask it as a question, but knew better than to ask.

You gave a quiet sigh.

Reincarnation after reincarnation, Yhwach seemed to chase the continuous, growing shadow of his past lives. You gave him a soft smile, whispering, “yes,” as your voice lingered with sadness.

Moi je te hais depuis le fond des âges, Mais quand même dans mon désespoir Je t’aimerais toujours bien d’avantage, Que toi tu n’aimes I’ve hated you throughout time, But even in my despair, I will love you much more Than you love yourself

Thank you for this request! I've never written for Yhwach before so this was definitely an interesting experience. As I said earlier, I don't think I nailed his character down, but I personally find him difficult to write - but I definitely enjoyed this request.

The lyrics at the end are from "Le Brin d'herbe" by Brigitte Fontaine, which inspired this story! These two tracks from Succession were also what I listened to as I was writing:

Nicholas Britell - Andantino for Brass and Orchestra in B Minor

Nicholas Britell - Concerto Grosso in C Minor + End Credits - "You Have To Be A Killer"

I hope you enjoyed this anon!

#bleach #yhwach #yhwach x reader #bleach smut #bleach x reader #bleach x you #bleach x y/n #yhwach x you #yhwach smut #answered #anonymous #a writes

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g1rlr0b1n · 1 month ago

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Yet another commission by the amazingly talented @ookamihanta!!! Go check out their page to see more art!!! Their commissions are still open so go check that out as well!!! I highly recommend them!!!

Sins of the Father (Preview)

Damian touched down at the Hall of Justice just in time to watch as Jon fades away and back to the safety of his own universe. “What happened here?” Nobody makes to move or answers him. His eyes dart between a very sullen Kal-El, the boy named Jay clutching his arm, and Cyborg. The Flash zooms by in a blur of movement to join them, still no one says a word. Frustrated, Damian repeats his question, “what happened?”

“Jon attacked Kal-El, so I sent him back to where he came from,” Cyborg stated firmly.

“That’s a lie, he didn’t-” Jay cuts himself short, seeming to suddenly realize with whom he’s arguing with.

A tense silence falls between them before Cyborg finally speaks again, “I made a judgment call.”

Superman's eyes flash with anger and pain, he finally speaks. "A judgment call? My son is gone," he spits out each word with venom.

Cyborg sighs, “he was never going to stay Kal.”

“He might have!” he shouts, his fists clenched at his sides, the desperation evident in his voice, “I could have gotten through to him.”

Cyborg's voice was laced with agitation as he attempted to reason with his stubborn friend, “he wanted to change you Kal, he had already made up his mind about us.”

"You don't know that," Kal retorts stubbornly, refusing to accept the truth.

“Did you hear nothing of what he said?”

“I could have made him stay!”

“Is that truly your belief?” Damian interjects abruptly, his words slicing through the tense silence. All eyes immediately turn towards him, drawn in by his sudden boldness. For the first time in a long while, he feels fear creeping up his spine at the weight of Superman's intense gaze. "It seemed to me that we had reached an impasse with Jonathan," he continued, his voice calm despite his apprehension. A deafening silence falls over the group, Superman's face is set in a hard line, his jaw clenched tight as if trying to contain his anger. The barely contained rage emanating from him is almost palpable. Without a word, he abruptly turns on his heel and storms off, seeking refuge within the walls of the Hall of Justice.

Damian considers for a moment what may have occurred had Jonathan stayed in their time, perhaps Superman would have been the one to bend to Jon’s will. Before Jonathan had brought him the lasso of truth, he would have been disgusted by the notion but now he was not so sure of how he felt.

Damian's attention was so consumed by his own thoughts that he barely registered the arrival of the rest of the League back at base. The Flash's voice snapped him out of his reverie, “So Jon’s gone? What now?”

Wonder Woman's voice cut through the air like ice, “business as usual. Batman is running out of places to hide, we’ll root them out soon enough.”

“What do we do with him?” the Yellow Lantern asks, gesturing toward the injured man.

“Allies of the Res-”

“He wasn’t an ally, just a mere pawn,” Damian interrupted Wonder Woman before she could finish her sentence.

Her piercing gaze narrowed on him, daring him to challenge her further., “Well, that’s more than I can say for some of you.” Damian knew she was referring to him and the Flash but he refused to give her the satisfaction of a reaction, keeping his features carefully neutral. Barry on the other hand looked startled by the accusation, even behind his mask. Barry opened his mouth to defend himself, but Wonder Woman silenced him with a stern look.

The tense silence was finally broken by Cyborg's commanding voice, “take him to the med-bay. He can be released after questioning.”

With a curt nod, Wonder Woman allowed for Lex Luthor, who had been waiting patiently, to take Jay away. She then made a subtle gesture toward Hal, which both Damian and Barry picked up on swiftly allowing them to just barely evade the Yellow Lantern’s ring as it attempted to engulf them behind a yellow orb. “What’s the meaning of this?” Damian demanded.

“When Superman calls, we answer,” Wonder Woman stated coldly, her blue eyes flashing with ferocity.

“Di, I knew the kid wouldn’t hurt him. I just thought maybe he could help. You know I’d be a millisecond away if there was any actual danger and obviously Damian was close by as well,” Barry attempted to explain himself.

After a few tense moments, Wonder Woman finally relented and called off Hal, her muscles visibly relaxing as she did so. "Fine," she said with a stern glare, "but if I see either of you falter again, you will not get a third chance." The threat of her words hung heavy in the air.

Damian watched silently as one by one the rest of the Leaguers filed into the Hall of Justice, his thoughts drifting back to his conversation with Jon. Was Jon right about him? Should he attempt to make amends with his family? Were the pieces of what they were still salvable even after everything that had happened? Or were they beyond repair, shattered by the events of the past five years that could never be undone? If he knelt before his father and begged for forgiveness would he take him back with open arms? Would he even want him to? Could he ever even look any of them in the eye after all that had transpired between them. Damian pushed those thoughts aside for the time being, he couldn’t even consider the notion of defecting without a plan…but he knew just who to talk to.

#didn't realize I never posted this one #this is also part of a multiverse series I've been slowly working on forever #Earth 49 #Damian is Nightwing (18)#Jon is Flamebird (17)#Basically I'm picking up from where Adventures of Superman: Jon Kent left off #I disregard canon lol #damian wayne #jon kent #damijon #jondami #superdemon #cosmicbird #dc comics #multiverse series #commissioned art

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allthornsnopetals · 9 months ago

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Tall S/O

:Includes:

:T.Denali:

:K.Denali:

:I.Denali:

Umm, yes you can!! Something, for the fellow tall girlies, 100% I'm 5,12ft... Ik, but at least I'm not short, but finding pants that can cover my ankles is, rather challenging.

:T.Denali:

Tanya is 5,5ft, while Myanna Burning—the actress, that plays her—is 5,1ft... She is a small bean.

In other words it is really not that hard to outgrow her, unless you are below 5ft or the same height. (If you are, that f sucks.)

Legit calling for you if she can't reach for something on a high shelf.

When she first laid eyes on you, she legit thought you were a model of some sorts. You had to be with all, that leg, and height.

She legit is drooling, like the horndog, that she is. Her mouth is salivating, eyeing you as one would with a meal.

I picture Tanya, constantly asking for uppies. (shut up this is my HC, so I say so).

She's extremely aware of the height difference, but she couldn't careless, in fact she loves it!

Always wearing your clothes and even your heels. She would deny ever taking anything from your closet, perhaps pointing her finger at Kate.

She will only return the clothes she 'borrowed', if you manage to find where she hid them, which is like finding a needle in a haystack.

Oh, and if she is at booby height, babe your done for. At least shoving her face where it shouldn't, ten times a day. Wanting hugs only because she wants her face in your boobies

I'm sorry but you will be wearing nothing but shorts when you are home, because in my perspective she loves the look/appeal of your legs. She will even offer/will shave and or wax your legs for you.

She's obsessed!

Love's it when you cage her in with your legs when love making, especially if your legs cross over daintily around her tiny waist.

This is gonna sound—because it is— dirty, but her favorite thing to do, when in the bedroom is ride your thighs/your entire leg, and yes she will boot fuck your foot, grinding and reaching her high.

She is like a dog on another kind of drug, humping, and even whining—which, would lead to begging—if you decline her of her favorite thing to do in the bedroom. Watch out, she will pounce when you are not looking, and perhaps boot fuck when you least expect it, again like a feral dog.

"My love, please!" Tanya begs, pouting the best she could, trying to sway Y/n. "Honey, you have made a mess on both my legs, I have to clean myself up, and put an end to tonight's festivities. I'm sorry." Y/n stood, kissing her wife's cheek.

Tanya's pout deepens, crossing her arms over her bare breasts. An idea pops in her head, causing a sly grin to split her face. She speeds into the bathroom, running Y/n a bath while she worries about fixing the room.

Once the tub is full, she's tugging her loving wife into the bathroom with her, and instantly getting her in.

"You dirty, little girl." Y/n teases, feeling Tanya plop herself on her thigh, and starting to rock her hips.

Tanya grins, bracing her grip on her darlings shoulders. "Dirty? No, clean. You wanted to clean the mess I made and I'm not finished, that is called compromise." She pecks her love's grinning lips, riding her tired thigh.

'Compromise' happens a lot with Tanya. Finding a solution to both of your problems, still being able to be satisfied.

If she is misbehaving or being an asshole, you can always say: "Be good and I'll let you make a mess on my legs tonight, but be an asshole, and I won't let you touch me." That shuts her up, makes her behave, listen, and even have Kate whining to you, when she feels as if she is being mistreated.

Tanya is a strong woman, who is def a top/Dom, and wears the pants in the relationship, but pull the: I'm covering my legs or you are getting none of this. She's a flopping mess, suddenly turned baby bottom with amazing hearing and obedience.

She's folding in seconds.

Def following you around, waiting patiently to be whisked away into the bedroom.

:K.Denali:

Kate is 5,7ft, which is pretty tall, so finding someone that is even taller... Now that is something.

The very first time you both met Edward is reading her mind and is finding: "Well, damn! I can't wait to climb that tree, ohh baby!!" With her face looking like this: 🥴

She gives: Yeah, that's my wife vibes, I know she's a Goddess.

Deadass, flexing on the nearest person.

She wouldn't subject you to wearing only shorts around the house. She doesn't want her sisters or anyone who visits to get any ideas.

But show an inch of leg, she's going feral. Deadass, pulling out her dusty reading glasses or binoculars, and perching herself up on her legs, like a fucking pervert just to get a slight look at those stunning legs.

She calls you: Tall tree, supermodel, mommy-long-legs.

She would 100% love back rides, being carried (bridal style) around like a baby, and climbing your shoulders.

As much as she likes being the bigger spoon, you're taller than she is, so she would adore being the little spoon when cuddling.

Asking for uppies all the damn time!

If you're mad at her for whatever reason and state that you will kill her. Kate would happily die with her head squeezed between your thighs, and snapping her head clean from her body. She thinks that it's the most blessed, righteous, and holy way to die.

Loves to be wrapped up in your legs.

Either when you are cuddling, holding her when you are doing her make up or hair, or when she's going to town between your legs. Miss ma'am just loves being swaddled with your legs.

Do be careful, she may never wanna stop cuddling if it means being wrapped up in your legs. Would throw a fit if you decide that you're done.

Love's it when your legs are thrown over her shoulders when she's eating you out, oh goes nuts when you begin to suffocate her between your legs when cutting it close to the edge, legit feeds her pride. (She's a vampire, she doesn't need air.)

Ohhh, she loves eating you out. It's her favorite thing to do in the bedroom. It gives her a reason to come close to something she thinks as holy.

Kate smirks, loving her necklace, aka the legs of her wife. "You little shit!" Y/n growls, clenching her legs around Kate's neck, ready to decapitate her head.

She had pissed her off again, but at least she will die a glorious death. "Mmmh, I can smell hell from here. Harder Princezná, I think God's calling me." She encourages Y/n, feeling her tighten her hold.

Tanya along with Carmen. "No, Y/n let her go. She pissed you off but it doesn't mean you should kill your wife. Let her go!" Tanya orders, pulling Kate from her feet with Carmen's help.

Kate whines. "Noooo! Let go of my feet, let me die a beautiful death!"

She would legit piss you off on purpose, because one she enjoys it, two she thinks you look hot when you're mad, three if she plays her cards right she might die in the bedroom or on sight with you trying to decapitate her.

She would fight off anyone trying to obviously save her life.

She would hate it if you tease her for her height in public, but loves it when you are both in the comforts of your home.

Like Tanya, would wear your clothes, especially your sweaters, hoodies, and jackets. You'll have a hard time finding them or even her with how many layers she may wear at once, and hiding herself somewhere.

:I.Denali:

Irina is 5,9ft, making her the tallest among her sisters, so discovering, that her mate is far taller than she is, it's gonna crush her ego a bit.

But she would recover.

In fact, she's excited to find someone that is taller than herself. This means shopping for clothes pacifically tailored to both your heights, and complaining together when certain clothes don't work out. I imagine her saying: "Well this is bullshit..." With you nodding in agreement.

Legit catwalks/runway moments when trying on new clothes.

When she first laid eyes on you, she was checking out your boots, wanting to get her hands on them, thinking that she could do with the extra inch.

What she didn't expect was to find you attached to the said boots, instantly drooling. Glad she found someone, that is an absolute stunner and super model.

She loves it when you cuddle. Legit has no troubles with who gets to be the big spoon or little spoon, because she is pretty tall as well.

Love's it when you splay your legs over her lap when relaxing or reading or chatting. Would mindlessly caress your leg, regardless if it is bare or clothed.

She isn't one for uppies, but if she needs something she cannot reach, immediately calling for you, even though she's 5,9. But who knows, you might be far taller, which means if something is completely out of her reach, she is set.

Unlike her sisters, she isn't drooling or turning into a pervert when she catches a glimpse of your legs. No, she's chill and super cute when smothering her face in your lap.

She's a cutie.

Oh, but she's on her knees, so damn weak when it comes to scissoring.

Sure there is a bunch of long legs, but she loves it when you cage her with your legs, with the goal to grind your sex on hers.

And oh, miss ma'am is folding the moment you clasp your legs around her, oh she's yours, instantly melting.

"Ohh, try this one, I think it would look great on you!" Irina tosses a dress at Y/n, watching as she undresses herself for the tenth time.

"What do you think?" She comes up from behind, feeling her waist and hips, gliding her hands over her sides, and watching her love through the mirror.

"I think, that we should take a couple photos and perhaps have a little runway show."

Irina giggles with giddy excitement, already planning her outfit.

She would even trade clothes with you.

Sharing clothes becomes second nature and before you know it, you're both basically sharing one closet, wearing whatever works.

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psych0t1c-bread · 3 months ago

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@howlsofbloodhounds here's the fanfic I promised! Sorry it took me so long lol (and sorry that it's so long in the first place. I meant for this to only be 5k but... judging by the fact that this ended up being 10k, that didn't quite happen, did it?)

@adler9944 because you wanted to read it as well!

Also, the first half of the chapter is a flashback that sets the tone for the story. You can skip it if you want, but I wouldn't suggest it.

I also posted this on Ao3. I hope you like it! Enjoy!

The Right Time and Place

(Cw: swearing, dissociation, self-deprication, mention of blood, PTSD nightmares/flashbacks, etc.)

5 months.

It had been 5 months since Color escaped the VOID. 5 months since Core found him, 5 months since he had been accepted into the Omega Timeline, 5 months since he began to get adjusted to life outside the VOID, and 3 months since he had been introduced to Delta.

Color had learned a lot from being with Delta, casually observing his friend's behaviors to mirror them. He still didn't quite know how to act now that he was out of the VOID. But life seemed a bit more normal now, much easier than it had been - much better.

He watched Delta's movements and attitude with utmost curiosity, unintentionally mirroring it all. He felt like he knew everything about his friend - his hand movements, his interests, where he worked, his attitude, his sarcasm and sass, his confidence, his knowledge.

Color felt like he knew everything about Delta.

It was about 10 pm as Color thought about this. His drifting, heavy eyes slowly began to close as he thought about it while drifting off into dream. And for once, his memory served him well - he remembered how they met almost perfectly...

[For the first two months, Color had stayed in the hospital while Core tried to find a suitable roommate for him, or at least one that would be willing to try.

Luckily, their newest tenant in the apartments a couple blocks from the hospital seemed up for the challenge.

When Core had first approached him with the idea of a roommate, Delta naturally asked who they were, why they were here. He was curious, but needed to make sure it'd be safe for him to room with this person.

Core couldn't tell him much - just that his supposed roommate had arrived two months ago, depressed and malnourished, from a dark VOID where he was held captive for around 20 years based on the doctor's observations.

They weren't able to tell him much more.

It took Delta all of 10 seconds to make his decision. Core offered him time, but before they could even finish their sentence, he had decided to accept this new person.

He asked if he could at least visit his new roommate in the hospital. Core explained that he was near catatonic, and wasn't used to people - but that the doctors would help his new roommate get adjusted by stopping by once a day. (Bit intrusive in Delta's opinion, but if all of what Core said was true, then it was incredibly necessary to have the doctors stop by.)

He gladly accepted.

Once Color had been discharged, Core took him to meet Delta if he was feeling well enough for it. And luckily, at that moment, he was.

Core led him to a peaceful park at dusk, not wanting Color to be overwhelmed by the sun and the busy lives of the people who lived here just yet.

After a short walk, they found Delta, who was sitting on a bench and patiently waiting to meet his roommate.

The two hit it off the bat immediately.

Well, Delta did, at least. At first, his bright orange eyes - a sign Color later learned that meant he was on guard, or that Beta was watching from inside - deeply intimidated Color, with their white dragon-like pupils unintentionally glaring down at him.

But once he saw Delta smile, and happily introduce himself and offer a handshake, Color couldn't help but relax. He was... charismatic, in his own special way.

Their clothes were covered in dirt and grime, having just been called after work. He barely had time to take his goggles and apron off before rushing to wherever Core needed him.

(Truthfully, they had been expecting a fight, but were nonetheless happy to meet someone new.)

And from what Color could hear, Delta had been taking up work at an engineering place of sorts - making new gadgets, weapons, safety items.

Needless to say, Delta's first introduction to Color wasn't him at his prettiest. (Not to say he'd look bad in his work clothes covered in dirt, though...)

Yet still, Color felt himself being drawn to them. Something about them - their voice, their appearance - made them enticing. And it didn't go unnoticed how the Bravery Soul inside of him felt suddenly at ease, watching the other still closely but much more relaxed. There was some sort of... attachment, on Delta that he could feel.

Something new. Something he hadn't experienced with any other Sans before.

It was overwhelming at first. Delta was very excited to meet someone new - he couldn't seem to stop talking, unable to stop asking all the questions that came to their mind as they lightly bounced on their feet. They had an almost childlike curiosity to them.

Core gently shut them down, being direct yet cautious. They knew Delta had no idea about Color's past, and was rightfully curious - a bit too curious, but innocent in his curiosities.

Unfortunately, Color did not take that well.

He was polite, at first. He was able to smile and force himself to keep calm. But the longer the noise carried on, the more questions Delta asked that he didn't want to answer, the brighter the lights around them seemed to get - it was all quickly too much.

But upon seeing the distressed and aggravated look in his new friend's eyes, Delta stopped. He froze momentarily, seeming deep in thought, silently wondering if he was being too much already.

To fix this, they whipped out their backpack, quickly unzipped the big pocket, and pulled out some headphones.

Without hesitating, he offered it to Color.

The other tried to deny his needs at first, not wanting to seem like a burden so early on - look at him, how selfish he is. Burdening a stranger on their first meeting. And he hasn't even made it back to the apartment yet, barely even spoken a word to this stranger! What if he was being rude? What if Delta didn't want to be his roommate anymore because of this? Was he going to be left alone again? Was it his fault? What if this was a trap? Was Delta tricking him to trap him and keep him here forever? What if he was? What if he wasn't? What if-

His breathing began to grow heavy as these thoughts filled his mind. The lights, the noise - it was all too much. The fire in their skull crackled, glowing brighter by the second as a sharp, violent pain overtook their skull.

Instinctively, Delta tried to gently touch Color's shoulder to get him to focus and take the headphones. They could see the pain in Color's grimace, and wanted to help.

Unfortunately, Color snapped.

He jumped back, almost screaming at Delta to get away, making the other flinch and take a quick step back.

Before he could even process what was going on, Color had sunk to his knees as he trembled, violently restraining his sobs as his thoughts and pain overtook him. He frantically tried to cover his broken skull with his hood, desperately trying to block out all the lights around.

Silently, after he overcame the shock, Delta quietly began to analyze him. The Bravery Soul inside him demanded an answer for the outburst, but Delta didn't have one - that was, until, he heard faint sobs from the other.

He came to the quick conclusion that Color wasn't mad at them. He was mad at the world - for reasons unknown to Delta, obviously. He had only been told bits and pieces of vital information when Core had first approached him about it - he always needed to know what he was getting himself into before deciding something major.

Core glanced almost nervously at Delta. They knew his demeanor quite well - and they knew that if such kindness was rejected so harshly, it could get an even harsher reaction out of the hot-head. His silence was a bit unnerving.

But instead of growing irritated or aggressive, Delta opted for comfort. As much as people may know him for his his brash attitude and doubt that much good can come out of it, he knows when the right time for a fight is - and now is not that time. He wasn't gonna just start fighting someone who so obviously needed help! (Maybe not his help specifically, but it didn't look like anyone else besides from Core was gonna be of much use, so why not do what he can?)

Needless to say, both were surprised when Delta gently and cautiously crouched down in front of Color - still keeping his distance - and quietly called out to him.

Color managed to force himself to peek up from his hood, to see Delta sitting down and smiling a bit sadly at him, empathy glistening in his eyes.

Delta began to sign to him, unsure if it would work or if Color even knew sign language, but he knew that he shouldn't speak more to aggravate the other further. He kept his body a bit closer to the ground, not wanting to make Color look up in the light any more than he had to.

Cautiously, Delta offered to take Color somewhere quieter and safer. He mentioned that there was a library they could go to, it had a sensory room with blackout curtains if he needed a nap, and a Cafe in case he needed a drink or caffeine.

Color froze at the options. What was all of this that he was speaking of? A Cafe? Library? He didn't remember those words anymore. Stars, he could have sworn he heard about them in his dreams.

Was this all a dream, then? Was any of this real? What if it wasn't? Was he trapped somewhere, was he dreaming again? Was this reality or not? How could he tell?

But after Delta had finished signing, Color realized that he had stopped shaking so much. He didn't feel much calmer, as he was still hyperventilating, but he was able to see Delta clearly enough to listen. He found himself breathing a tiny bit slower, his body slowly relaxing the longer Delta held eye contact - he couldn't look away.

Color managed to regain his voice after a moment. He hadn't experienced kindness from someone else in so long... it felt amazing. And yet, that feeling was quickly overtaken by terror and suspicion.

Tears rolled down his skull as he managed to choke out that he wanted to go home. But what was home? Was it the VOID? His AU? Where was it, what was it? Was it with anyone?

Delta and Core were both quite surprised, but upon seeing the despiration in Color's eyes, Delta decided to back off on taking his friend anywhere new.

Core softly spoke up, offering to take Color back to his new apartment. But Color shook his head, unsure of where that was - if it even existed.

After about an hour of trying to talk Color down, Delta had managed to bring him back to reality and get him to take some deep breaths. He handed Color his water, which the other immediately snatched and downed in one go.

Delta was surprised, but gladly let the other take it. And once Color had managed to ground himself and calm down, they slowly stood and offered a hand up. (In truth, with how sudden the panic attack happened, he wasn't quite sure if Color would be able to walk without help.)

Color flinched back, his shaky hands tensing at the sudden movement. But when he saw Delta was genuinely offering to help, he paused.

He hesitated, unsure if touch would send him back over the edge. But the pain in his legs made it feel impossible to get up on his own.

He didn't want to get hurt or tricked. But the kindness in Delta's bright orange eyes told him that he was safe.

For once in his life, something was telling him he was safe.

Slowly, he reached out a shaking hand.

Delta gladly took it.

His tight, strong grip was like no other Color had felt - not in a while, at least. Their hands felt strong and safe, comforting Color and silently telling him that not a single Soul would dare to harm him - not if Delta was around to help it.

The orange metal gauntlet was a surprisingly smooth, almost soothing texture. It was slightly cold, but warmer than Color was expecting - was it always like that, or did Delta just do that for him?

And as Delta pulled him up with ease, Color felt their body practically melt into his hand. It helped that Color couldn't feel his bones - the gauntlet covered his hand fully, blocking out any physical contact from under it. And the fact that it was smooth and not rough or jagged or cold like other metals was the icing on the cake.

Quickly pulling him to his feet, Delta held his hands out just in case Color stumbled or collapsed again. But once his new friend was stable, Core began to lead them to the apartment.

Color still doubted his surroundings. He yanked his hand away from Delta after a moment, but mumbled a quiet 'thank you'. Delta responded with a bright smile.

As they walked in silence, Color couldn't help but notice a protective energy around the group - as if something was watching over them, keeping them safe, protecting them.

He glanced over at Delta.

He figured out where the energy was coming from.

If anyone dared to look in their direction as they made their way to the apartment, they were met with a fiercely protective glare from Delta - a silent promise of hurt if they dared approach with ill intentions. Their hands were kept firmly at their sides as they surveyed the surroundings, keeping track of every alleyway, every person, what they looked like.

Color felt safe. He didn't know why or how, or if it was a trick. But he felt his body relax slowly as they continued walking.

And after a 10 minute walk, they arrived at the apartment.

As Delta carefully held his keys as still as possible so they wouldn't jingle too much, he slowly cracked open the white door, and entered in.

It was fairly clean, though evident that Delta had been living there - he hadn't expected to have company so soon, but had a short warning beforehand (three days) so he could at least clean up the place. Everything was swept and dusted, but his work clothes and apron had been carelessly tosses into a pile near his bedroom door.

The dark, dull beige walls of the apartment greeted their eyes first. The light brown couch was lovingly worn down from Delta alone, with the TV remote resting on the class coffee table in front of it.

The TV stand was nothing fancy, either - not that Delta cared, anyhow. It was tidy with a few movie boxes and a DVD player on it, on the small shelf below the TV itself. The TV was a decent size, nothing huge but definetly big enough for multiple people to enjoy.

The big light above them had been left on, but Delta quickly shut it off as to not overwhelm Color. He silently slipped his shoes off before fully entering to reach for the lightswitch, walking on the cold wooden floors.

Looking a bit to his left, Color could see the open entrance to what Delta described as the kitchen. He could faintly see what looked like chairs and possibly a table.

To his right, he saw a hallway. Delta explained that it led to the bathroom and bedrooms, though Color couldn't quite remember what that meant.

Color remained frozen in the doorway. He saw dozens of items he had a vague memory of, but didn't know the names.

Delta silently awaited a reaction, wanting to ensure Color didn't get overwhelmed. Though, to him, there wasn't much to get overwhelmed about. But judging by Color's earlier reactions, he wasn't quite sure if it would be the same.

Softly, Color asked what the new items were.

Delta was quite surprised by that. But, he cautiously described each and every one, giving Color breaks when he saw his face twist in confusion.

Eventually, Color managed to walk into the house. He took a close look around at the bleak walls, into the kitchen and down the hall. There were so many new things - but all he cared about right now was sleep.

Before he got fully settled, however, Delta offered both him and Core lunch. He wouldn't be able to cook much (the oven was most likely still broken from the last time he attempted to use it), but he could at least feed them a snack or something.

Color's demeanor suddenly sparked up at the mention of food. And upon seeing the sudden shift in attitude, Delta took it as a yes and immediately headed to the kitchen to make them some sandwiches.

To his surprise, Color followed.

The creaks in the floorboards startled him at first, along with Delta's silent footsteps - why couldn't he hear them? Were they really there?

Delta glanced back, to see Color looking confused and uncomfortable. He was about to ask what was up, when Color softly spoke out and asked why he was so quiet.

Delta was surprised, but apologized and explained that he didn't want to overwhelm him. He made sure to walk a little louder. He could see the distant look behind Color's blank eyes.

But he noticed something else - Beta had pointed it out - that concerned him. Color was fidgeting with his hands, pacing in circles around the kitchen on his small square, keeping his eyes on Delta's hands the entire time.

Color nervously glanced at the food. He barely remembered what it was like to eat something - he didn't remember what the name or ingredients of what Delta was making, but made sure that the other wasn't adding any pills or something strange.

Color still wasn't sure if he was safe. Could Delta be trusted? What if this is a trap? Are they going to poison him? Would Core allow that? What if they're the one who suggested it?

Upon seeing Color work themselves up again into another panic, Delta quietly offered for him to come help, if he wanted. He didn't want to make his roommate uncomfortable, but it was clear neither of them knew quite what to do.

Color was startled out of his thoughts, quickly looking up to Delta as he froze in place again. He could barely think, but after a few minutes of debate, he decided to learn about whatever Delta was doing.

As he cautiously approached, Delta made sure Color could see all the ingredient lists and what he was using, how he was using it and where it belonged in his organized mess of a kitchen.

Color had no idea what to do with any of the items, or what they were. And despite not knowing if Delta would tell the truth or not, he decided to ask.

Delta was visibly surprised by this, but made space for Color on the counter and patiently explained the process of making a sandwich, including all the ingredients. They weren't sure if it would be too much for Color to handle, but tried to help anyways.

Color was quick to learn. When he wanted to taste the items first before he put it on his sandwich, Delta didn't stop him. He made sure to separate his sandwich from Color's for sanitary reasons, though.

As they observed from their seat on the windowsill, Core couldn't help but smile. They knew they had made the right choice to pair these two together in spite of their differences.

After the boys had finished making the sandwiches, Delta let them sit anywhere in the apartment as he gave Core their sandwich.

To their surprise, Color scarfed his sandwich down in mere seconds. Delta was worried he'd choke, but somehow he didn't.

After making sure Color wasn't sick from eating so fast, Delta offered to make him another sandwich. Color frantically agreed.

As Delta got up to make him another sandwich, Color stood and asked if he could do it. He truly meant no offense, but he just didn't trust Delta enough to let him make the food.

Core smiled. And, as to not startle Color, they announced their leave.

The two bid Core their goodbyes, and Core left silently as Delta continued to teach Color how to make a sandwich.

And despite Color's clear distrust and fear, the two had been inseparable ever since.

Of course, their relationship has had its ups and downs over the few months they had known each other.

It was certainly an experience for Delta when he first found Color on the kitchen floor, sleeping peacefully with the lights dimly lit up.

Delta, having thought the poor guy was fully unconscious, immediately tried to wake him up while frantically calling the doctors in charge of Color's care at two in the morning.

Color woke up quickly, startled and hostile, kicking and screaming in shock. Delta had jumped back, but breathed a sigh of relief - and hung up after telling the doctors that Color was alive.

That night turned into a long conversation, which led to them helping Color get situated in his new room with the offer of full control over it. The doctors came by to check on them about 15 minutes later, but once they judged that Color was safe, they left.

Another late night memory that Color happily reminisced on was a comforting reminder that he was no longer alone - Delta had caught him playing chess by himself at 1 am, muttering his moves to himself.

Delta, who was somehow both the lightest and deepest sleeper that Color had ever known (even though they were his only friend), was awoken by mutterings coming from the couch.

And upon investigating, visibly concerned of what he would find, he was relieved to see Color.

Delta had asked what he was doing, making Color flinch at the interruption. But when he explained, Delta, in his half-asleep state, managed to say that he didn't have to play alone anymore because Color had him now.

Against his better judgement, he offered to play with him. Color thought for a moment, but accepted.

They both managed to fall asleep as they played chess, waking up on the couch as the warm beam of sunlight gently awoke them from their peaceful slumber.

And it was definitely fun to remember how he had met Beta for the first time - the day he realized that he wasn't alone in having a human Soul with him.

They had walked in on Delta and a glowing orange outline of a body softly talking early in the morning - it sounded like they were talking about some kind of dream. By the tone, Color could tell the spirit sounded nervous as Delta made him some kind of drink that Color didn't recognize.

When he called out to them, the two flinched and swiveled around - but upon seeing him, relaxed.

Color remembered asking who the figure was.

The two looked startled, glancing at each other, before the spirit turned back to Color with the biggest grin he had ever seen.

Excitedly, the kid introduced himself as Beta, explaining who he was and why. He was thrilled that Color could see him - he thought no one other than Delta could! He was so excited!

Delta tried to calm his kid down, not wanting him to overwhelm Color. But for the first time, Color felt something stirring inside of him as the spirits in his head managed to force him to say hi.

A few who were more powerful were able to make themselves into spirits to say hello. Beta was practically jumping up and down when he saw that.

That was probably his favorite 3 am experience with Delta.

He remembered his first panic attack in the house, when Delta had gone out to buy groceries early before work as to not wake up Color. He remembered frantically calling Delta, in tears when the other picked up.

Within seconds, Delta had managed to steal the cart with the groceries still in it, slap a $50 on the counter for the cashier, and teleport home - where he literally slipped on the floor and dragged the cart down with him on total accident.

Yet still, once they managed to get up somehow unharmed, they left the groceries on the ground so they could run to help Color.

He remembered when an ignorant Monster had decided to challenge Color's flames, mocking his body. He remembered the shame and humiliation - and how it quickly turned to utter shock when he saw Delta clock him in the jaw, breaking it almost instantly and knocking the man out.

Color remembered the way Delta had grabbed his hand, quickly pulling him up from his seat in the Cafe and began to run. They ran all the way back to their apartment practically at the speed of light, and when they got in and locked the door, they took a moment to breathe.

They looked at each other, still in mild shock that that had just happened. But then they immediately burst into laughter, in awe that no one had stopped them or caught them yet.

(They got caught later that week cause the guy who got his ass beat saw Delta visiting Color in the hospital during one of his more frequent checkups. He bitched to Core about it and Delta got a earful from the kid. Color couldn't stop laughing.)

He remembered one of the many times when the sheer emptiness of the walls had trapped his mind into thinking he was back in the VOID - alone, cold, and scared.

Thankfully, Delta was home at the moment. He rushed to help as usual, bringing Color back to reality.

And for the first time, Color began to speak.

He spoke about the VOID. The darkness. The same dull scenery, a memory long forgotten and yet forcefully re-experienced every single day.

That was when Delta decided to paint the walls.

He let Color help, of course. He allowed Color to pick out the paint, while he went to find the paint brushes - they remained in each other's sight the whole time, not daring to stray too far.

Color ended up picking out a blue-teal color, and once they had gotten home, they began to rearrange the furniture momentarily so they could protect the floor and such.

It took about three days to paint, which was a bit longer than either had planned. But in those three days, they had begun to talk, both sharing their respective stories about how they had gotten here.

Delta was much more open about it than Color was. But Color, being intuitive as ever, noticed that Delta never went into specific details - he only managed to say that things happened, and instead preferred to go on about his adventures fighting bad guys in the multiverse.

Color asked, once. Out of curiosity. He had asked why Delta had chosen to do that of all things.

Delta managed a quick response. It was witty, Color gave him that, but based on the guilt and hidden shame in their eyes, he knew it wasn't the full truth.

He asked if something had happened to make him not want to talk about it.

Delta dodged the question by changing the subject.

They didn't bring it up again.

He remembered the first time he had recieved a hug from Delta. It was during a panic attack, where Color was doubting his reality and everyone around him, desperately reaching out for anything to keep ahold of.

Delta could see the despiration in his eyes. The desperation to be loved, seen, wanted, remembered. He saw it. Without much thinking, they held him, drawing him close in one swift movement.

It was magical. Color truly had no idea what he had been missing until he had it - but he wasn't ready to let it go missing again.

He remembered collapsing into Delta's arms, sobbing into his chest as he desperately clung to him while Delta coaxed him down gently.

After about two hours of calming him down, Delta was allowed to make the mistake of attempting to let go. Color refused.

Luckily, Delta learned quickly, and did not attempt to let go until Color was ready. Color stayed attached to his hip for the rest of the day, terrified that if he let go, it would never return.

And during some of their late night talks, sometimes Delta would say that he couldn't remember a time where he didn't know Color. Days all blended together - unless something particularly exciting happened that set it apart from the other days.

Color wished he could say the same.

But in these months, these three fresh months, never had he felt so exhilarated and overwhelmed at the same time.

Every moment with Delta was precious. Delta had even managed to score Color a job at the same place so that he'd feel less alone - and would be able to adjust better.

Delta had always been the stronger one of of the two of them - from how he carried himself, to the way he'd threaten violence at any given second if someone so much as dared to breathe incorrectly in Color's direction. It was clear he was capable of great violence. Especially with how much he bragged about his fights in the past.

Color had never been more grateful to find a friend who was willing to tolerate his codependency. And Delta happily entertained it - they would never dare to admit it, but they were incredibly lonely.

And Color had learned how to carry himself, too - how to carry himself with utmost confidence, ensuring no one would dare to doubt him (except himself). He learned how to get away with most things, lying flawlessly without guilt if it was necessary. He learned that it was okay to ask for help when he needed to, when he wanted to. He learned how to love himself, even if it was just a little bit.

He learned how to interact with his Souls and Beta, and how to accept them as his reality. He learned how to be reckless and how to fight, but to also calculate and plan out moves and escapes when necessary. He learned that although life wasn't kind or safe all of the time, he had the power to make it a little kinder and a little safer - if not for himself, then for others.

He learned that for once, he had power and control over himself and his surroundings. He learned to apologize for mistakes and move on instead of deflecting them, and that it was okay to be angry and process the trauma that had been caused to him.

He had learned so much in these three months with them.

He remembered how he had doubted Delta at first, as he watched silently, analyzing every move and what it meant. Delta carried himself with nothing less than reckless confidence, so much so that no one dared to doubt him - even when he was blatantly wrong about something.

But when Delta showed him the kindness of acceptance, he doubted him a bit less each time. It didn't take too long for Color to feel comfortable enough to trust him with important things - buying and making the food, getting water, keeping them entertained and safe. Such simple things to Delta were the most important things to Color.

Yes, these memories and experiences were the core of their relationship - his favorites by far. But these dreamy memories of his were cut short by a sudden loud clang, triggering a harsh memory of when Delta had awoken to Color screaming after he accidentally hurt himself while making a late night snack.

The blood gushed out of his palm as the knife clattered to the ground, as Color frantically began to hyperventilate at the sight of his own blood.

Delta sprinted out of his room, running straight at Color as he managed to dial for help at the same time. How his hands were so steady as he sprinted at full force, Color still couldn't figure out.

He dragged Color to the bathroom, immediately beginning to hold it above Color's Soul to help stop the bloodflow as Delta got a tourniquet above the wound, on his wrist. He quietly reassured Color that the ambulance was on its way. His hands lit up in a soothing green glow, as they gently held his palm close.

He remembered the pure fear in Delta's eyes as he forcefully woke himself up, trying to hide it as they comforted Color. They whispered kind words of reassurance, holding him close as they let him cry on their shoulder.

He remembered when he was half asleep in the hospital bed, that Delta was sobbing as quietly as he could. Color couldn't hear it - but when he tried to roll his head over to look at Delta, he saw the other keeping their head down, shaking lightly as they breathed deeply, trying to hold it all in.

That was the first, and only, time that he had ever seen Delta get so scared that he cried. And it killed him to know that it was his fault his friend was crying.

In the morning, when Color woke up, Delta had clearly been awake. He wasn't sure if they had slept at all. They did not talk about the tears of last night, rather opting to check in on Color and his wound.

They did not bring it up again. And Color vowed to never make that kind of mistake again.]

Color jolted awake, with a short gasp for air as the loud, shattering clang echoed through the apartment.

His mind raced as he tried to figure out if he was still dreaming or not. He rushed to check his palm, only to see the wound closed up and scarred.

A thud followed.

His heart skipped a beat, as his body began to move without thinking. Within seconds, Color had ran from his bed to the kitchen...

... to find Delta collapsed on the ground, a pile of broken glass surrounding him.

His eyes were blank, a dull shade of the usual bright orange that greeted Color when he woke up. His expression held nothing of its normal composure, as his body slumped towards the ground on his knees.

Color froze, his eyes widening as he felt his Soul drop into his nonexistent stomach.

What the fuck?

What just happened?!

"Delta...?" His voice trembled as he spoke softly. He didn't want to startle the other.

No response.

[Is he sleep walking again? How did this even happen?] Color thought, slowly moving closer. He examined his roommate, checking for any external injuries, but there were none.

So, cautiously, Color reached out to lightly shake Delta's shoulder.

Still, no response.

Color's breathing began to get shaky as his mind raced with terrifying possibilities as to why they could be acting like this. Did something happen? Are they hurt? Were they dying? Did they need to go to the hospital? Was it even really them?

Delta wasn't even blinking. And with his hand now hesitantly resting on their shoulder, Color couldn't feel them breathing, either.

Color flinched when he realized that there was not a single movement from Delta. No flinching, no startle, not even breathing. Nothing.

He shook his roommate a little more aggressively, his breath catching in his throat as he desperately called out for him, "Delta?! Hey, come on, wake up!"

The harder Color shook him, the closer he got to getting Delta to snap out of it, even if it was just a little.

Finally, Color got desperate enough to smack him on the shoulder as hard as he felt comfortable.

As the hit landed, Delta's hand shot up and grabbed Color by the wrist, making the other flinch and gasp lightly in shock.

Delta's empty stare turned to Color, making him shiver.

He spoke softly, calling out to him, "Delta?"

Delta still gave no response. Didn't even blink. But after a minute, he slowly released Color's wrist from his grip. His hand dropped back down, hanging limply at his side.

Color was startled at how motionless it was. There was such little weight to his grip - nothing at all like he was used to. As his voice still shook, he called out again, "Delta?... can you hear me? Are you- can you answer me, please?"

He pleaded.

Luckily, he got a blink this time.

Color felt a bit relieved, at least knowing that Delta was awake now. But still, he awaited some kind of response, anything at all.

Their blank, empty stare was unnerving. There was absolutely nothing behind their eyes - just like the rest of their expression.

They tried to speak. Nothing came out.

Color's eyes widened in horror. "Delta?! Hey, hey, what's wrong? Is- is something wrong? Are you hurt? Why can't you speak? Did you-"

"I'm fine." An empty, desolate voice muttered in response.

Color flinched back, ripping his hand off of Delta's shoulder.

No. This wasn't him. This- this can't be him, right? It barely even sounds like him!

No, it can't possibly be. His eyes are too dull, voice too bleak. He wasn't even wearing his usual clothes, Color noticed. He was wearing a tank top, no gauntlets on, and black shorts and socks.

He had seen Delta sleep in those clothes before, but now it just looked wrong. Like it wasn't really them.

Was he having another nightmare?

Was this real?

There's no way this was Delta. There's just no way! There was no spark, no energy, no emotion, nothing! It was honestly creeping him out.

Seeing his brightest - and only - friend so lifeless just... wasn't right.

The Souls inside his head spoke softly, discussing what they should do to snap Delta out of it, if there was even anything they could do about it. Color listened to the options, but they all eventually agreed to try to talk to Beta first - see if he knew what was going on.

"Beta? Kiddo, you there?" Color called out, eyeing the time. It was around 3 in the morning. Surely the kid would be asleep, but maybe he could wake him up.

No response. But upon hearing his name get called out, Delta's eyes seemed to glaze over even more as their orange color slowly drained into white.

His eyes went wide as he helplessly watched all the color dissappear from their eyes.

"... okay. So that didn't work. Let's just... take him out of the glass." Color muttered to himself, slowly moving closer to Delta again.

Cautiously stopping outside of the ring of glass, Color reached down and grabbed Delta by the arms. Then, he slowly pulled him up, and dragged him out of the glass. He managed to lift them high enough to get him safely out of the ring.

Delta's body practically collapsed into Color, startling the other entirely. His whole body was just limp in Color's arms.

What was going on with them?

After adjusting the other, Color picked him up fully, and carried him over to the couch.

He gently lowered Delta onto the couch, having him lay down on his side in case anything happened. He sat on the ground in front of them.

There was a long moment of silence, before Delta spoke again.

"Are you here?" They murmured, staring emptily at the wall.

Color was surprised, but quickly nodded, "Yeah, I'm here, Del. I'm right here. Can you talk? What's going on?"

Delta tried to speak again, but nothing came out. So, slowly, they forced their arms to move up and began to sign.

'I'm sorry.'

Color was taken aback.

"... sorry for what?" He asked softly, moving a bit closer.

'I messed up. I failed.'

"What do you mean?"

'I hurt them. I couldn't save them.'

"Who couldn't you save?"

'You know.'

Color paused. Who was Delta talking about? Did they even know it was him?

"Do you know it's me, Delta?"

Delta paused for a moment. In truth, they really didn't know. But they felt the Bravery Soul nearby, and assumed it was Beta. 'Yes.'

Color breathed a sigh of relief. "Alright. But, who are you talking about?"

'Frisk.'

Color froze.

"... what do you mean? How did you fail them?" He murmured, looking over Delta's body language. But there was nothing to look at.

'They died. You know that. Don't make me say it, please.'

"Did you... have a dream about them?" Color asked, desperately trying to figure out what was going on. Why this sudden memory? And why now, of all times?

'Yeah. Was hurt again.'

"I'm sorry to hear that."

'Nothing we can do about it.'

"Do you... wanna talk about it?"

'I failed them. I couldn't save them. I killed them. It's all my fault.'

There was a long pause in their conversation. Hesitantly, Color asked, "... is something else bothering you?"

'I can't do it anymore.'

Color froze, his eyes slowly widening in terror as his Soul skipped a beat. "Wh-what do you mean by that?"

'He's hurting and I can't make it better. I'm failing him.'

The air around them held still as Color silently stared into Delta's dull eyes.

"... what?" He shakily reached to cover his mouth, absolutely horrified.

'I wanna help him so bad. But there's nothing I can do. I can't do anything right.'

"Hold on-"

'He hurts cause I can't make it any better. It's all my fault. I don't wanna fail him like the others, but I guess I'm not much good at protecting, either.'

"Delta."

'What do I have if I can't help him? Nothing. Got nothing. He got taken here so someone could help, and I can't even do that right.'

"Delta!" Color desperately tried to shake him awake, as tears pricked his eyes. What was going on? Did they really feel this way?

'It's all my fault. He's hurting and it's all my fault. Maybe they should put him with someone better. He deserves better than me.'

"Delta, listen to me-"

'First I hurt Frisk, and then Paps, and now I hurt him. Why can't I do anything right? Why can't I do what I'm supposed to? I wanna help but I keep hurting people. I'm so stupid.'

"Hey!-"

'I'm worthless if I can't help him. I have no use. They only like me when I can be useful, and I can't even do that right now. I'm such a burden. What is wrong with me?-'

"STOP!"

Delta stopped, as Color's chest heaved, breathing shakily as tears dripped down his skull.

It killed him to see how much pain Delta was in. He was heartbroken. Why hadn't they told him about this? Did they really feel like this all the time? No wonder they were so stressed out, the poor guy!

But seeing the still blank look in their eyes, Color knew he had to help.

He took a deep breath, wiping his eyes as he restrained his sobs. He couldn't cry. Not now. Not while his best friend needed him.

Once Color had calmed down quite a bit, he gently cupped Delta's face, holding it in his warm hands.

As small tears still leaked from Color's eyes, he spoke, voice trembling, "Delta, I need you to listen to me, please." He pleaded softly.

Delta nodded, 'Okay.'

Color took a deep breath as he spoke, "Delta, I don't know why you think these things or if anyone made you think them, but you are not a failure. You are not a burden, not to me or anyone else.

I don't know much about you. What you've been through, what you're going through, I don't know. You've done a really good job at hiding that. You let me know what you want me to know. I can't blame you for that - I do that, too.

But I don't want you suffering in silence. I may not be the best with emotions, and I might not be the best guy to hang around sometimes, but I care about you.

I'm sorry if I ever made you feel this way. But listen to me now - I don't think that you're a failure. I don't think you're a burden, or at fault for any of the things you've been through. Okay?"

Slowly, the color began to return to Delta's eyes. But still, he signed, 'I'm sorry. I'm weak.'

"No, you're not." Color insisted sternly, gently stroking the side of Delta's skull with his thumb, "You're not weak. You're not any of the horrible things you claim you are.

You're not weak. You're not a burden. You're certainly not a failure. And you're most definetly not stupid."

There was another pause, as Color calmed himself. And gently, still cupping Delta's face with his right hand, he trailed the other to Delta's hand, which had slowly dropped back down when they had finished speaking.

Delta managed to speak. "Why?" They whispered.

Color's eyes saddened. "Well, if you really don't know... then let me tell you.

Listen, I know we've only known each other for a couple months, but... you've helped me more than anyone else ever has. You've put up with me when no one else wanted to - when even I didn't want to. But you stuck by my side, didn't leave me alone, even when I annoyed you.

You protected me. Remember when that guy at the Cafe harassed me? You punched the shit out of him and then brought me home. You didn't let him hurt me, even though you didn't know anything about me at that point.

And the nightmares? You stayed with me. You woke me up when we stayed together in your room, even let me sleep in your bed while you slept on the floor when I was too scared to be touched. And even when I woke you up screaming, you held me, calmed me down. And you never got mad! You never yelled at me, even when you had work in the morning.

And at work, whenever I was able to show up, you always protected me, made excuses for me when I couldn't show up. You always kept me safe, even when you weren't around. They knew they couldn't hurt me because you'd hurt them back, even if you got in trouble for it.

You've helped me more than you even know. You taught me how to live again - literally! I didn't even know how to eat when I first got here, but you were patient enough to teach me how to use the utensils. You even helped me wash up when I physically couldn't do it myself.

You always got me to my doctor appointments, even leaving work early to drive me there. You put up with me even when I didn't want to go, and when I exploded because I was so scared of them. And you always made sure to call the doctors when I needed help and couldn't call anyone for myself, even when I got mad at you for it.

Even when I was tired and depressed, you took care of me. You made sure I ate and bathed at the very least, even if you couldn't drag me out of the house. You did everything that you could to help me, and succeeded. No one had ever done that for me before. You were the first.

You stuck by my side, even when I got sick and got you sick in return. I didn't mean to, I still feel kinda bad about it. But you never made me feel like a burden, or like it was a mistake that you got paired with me. You've always been so good to me.

You never made me feel like an asshole, even when I acted like it. I'm sorry if I ever made you feel like this, but... you've saved me more times than I can even count.

Like that time when I was too paranoid to let anyone in the house, including you. You were patient with me and talked me down from the other side, even though I was having a panic attack because I was alone. You stayed with me until I was calm enough to use logic and let you in. And even still, you weren't mad at me! I honestly don't know how you put up with me sometimes.

And remember when I cut myself on accident that one night? You woke up and were literally at my side in seconds. And you called for help while calming me down, trying to keep me from passing out. You certainly weren't useless then, so why would you be now?

I know we didn't talk about it again after that night, but... I saw you crying when I woke up. I didn't even notice it at first - you were so quiet about it. But I saw it. And I'm sorry that I didn't say this before, but you're not weak for crying.

I'm not... even sure if that's what you're thinking right now. But in case you are, I really don't think you're weak for crying.

You never made me feel weak for crying. So why make yourself feel that way? You don't deserve that hate, even if it's coming from yourself.

I know I don't say it a lot, but I really care about you. Even when I'm scared or angry or overwhelmed with the world, you're the only good part of it. You've practically kept me sane! You've helped me in more ways than I can even count. And I certainly wouldn't call that failure, now, would I?" He smiled.

The longer Color spoke for, the more the orange spark return to Delta's eyes. And by the time he finished, Delta had come back into reality fully - having no clue what was going on or why, but appreciated being woken up from whatever had happened with fond memories and kind words.

Color smiled softly at them. "Hey, buddy. Glad you're back."

Delta nodded, propping himself up with the arm that Color wasn't holding. However, he gladly let Color's hand stay on his face, and lightly nuzzled into it, still confused, "Uh, hey... what happened? How'd I get here?" He asked softly, glancing around.

"I honestly have no idea. I heard glass breaking and saw you in the kitchen, but you weren't answering me - totally out of it. So I got you away from the glass and brought you over here. You didn't look hurt, but... you started talking, and-"

"Wait, wait, lemme stop you there. What do you mean I was in the kitchen?" Delta asked, his eyes going slightly wide as he realized that there was no lying out of this situation. He was going to have to tell Color about the episodes.

He sat up fully, making Color back up a bit and take his hand off of Delta's face. However, when he tried to let go of Delta's hand, he instead tightened his grip slightly - he didn't want to let go yet.

Color gladly obliged.

"Well, I got woken up by the glass, and saw you in the kitchen. You were on the ground and the glass was all around you. Don't know how you got there, though - your guess is as good as mine." He answered.

Delta nodded along, turning to look back into the kitchen. And sure enough, the ring of glass was still there, not yet cleaned up.

"... huh. That's really weird." They muttered.

Color couldn't help but snicker at that. "You're telling me, man." He replied.

Delta turned back, his brain still processing all of this, "You said I woke you up? Shit, I'm sorry about that. I didn't mean to."

"Hey, no, don't worry about it. Whatever happened, didn't look like you had much control over." Color replied, smiling reassuringly. "Do you remember anything?"

"Uhh, sorta. I remember I was laying in bed, then-" a look of realization dawned on their face. "... oh."

Color tilted his head. "What?"

"... um. Okay. I got something to explain." They muttered, sighing.

Color was even more confused. He motioned for Delta to go on, and he did. "So, I had a nightmare last night. And, sometimes, when I have nightmares, I tend to... dissociate."

"Dissociate?" Color repeated. The hell did that mean? Delta hadn't taught him that word yet.

"Yeah. Um, I lose grip on reality, I'd have no clue what's going on whatsoever. That brings me to a question, though. Did I say anything weird?" Delta looked nervous even asking it.

Color thought for a moment. Would he classify those things as 'weird'? I mean, they were definetly abnormal, so maybe that's what they mean.

He nodded. "I mean, for you, kinda. I've never heard you speak that way before."

Their Soul sunk. Oh fuck. What did they say?

"Oh, that's great." He muttered sarcastically.

Unfortunately, Color didn't quite understand sarcasm yet. He quickly replied, "Not really. It was kinda scary - you started going on about a lot of things, things I didn't even know you were thinking about. Do you want me to repeat it?-"

"No."

The sudden venom in their voice was startling enough to make Color stop. He quietly examined his friend. Had he said something wrong? Were they angry at him for talking too much? Why were they upset?

But when he looked at them, instead of anger, Color saw hurt. Their face was twisted in a deep sadness, clearly having not expected things to go down like this.

They didn't talk for a good few minutes, until Delta spoke up first.

"You weren't meant to know." He muttered, staring at the ground in shame.

Color tried to say something, but Delta continued on, "I didn't tell you because I didn't want to be weak. Not when you needed someone to help you. It'd be unfair of me to burden you after you just got out of basically solitary confinement for 20 years of your life.

And after everything I've seen you go through, fuck, you've been hurting so much. And it's not your fault at all - I ain't saying that I'm uncomfortable around you or anything like that, just... didn't think I'd need to tell you so soon. I'm sorry."

Color stared up at him for a long moment, before asking, "Do you think I'm weak for needing help, Delta?"

Delta tensed, instinctively looking up with pure worry in his eyes, "What?! No, not at all!"

But before he could say anything else, Color replied in an even tone, "Then why do you think that you're weak for needing help?"

Silence.

Delta stared at him, his eyes wide as he tried to figure out if Color was joking or not - if they had said something to upset him. But when they saw the empathy in his eyes, they realized what it really meant.

"... I guess I didn't... really think of it that way." They sheepishly admitted, glancing away from him.

Color couldn't help but smile, as he moved closer. He sat on the couch, and Delta gladly made room for him. Instinctively, like Delta had done many times for him, Color slinked an arm around his shoulder and held him close.

Delta tensed at first, but eventually relaxed into Color's arms.

"That's alright. I'm not mad, obviously. Can't really get upset at you for hiding things when I haven't exactly been the most vulnerable," Color said, making them both chuckle lightly.

"But, still. If you have these problems, I wanna help. It's not fair if you only help me and I don't help you back. So let me help. Okay?" Color asked softly, smiling at him.

Delta was surprised. He wasn't used to being able to let his guard down - he never knew when it was safe to relax without worrying about someone catching him and picking a fight when he was vulnerable.

Vulnerability was not a concept he was comfortable with yet.

But as he looked deep into Color's eyes, he knew that he was safe - he didn't know why, but... something inside him was telling him that he was safe to let his guard down.

He relaxed, nodding slowly as a smile crept up on his face. "Okay."

"You promise?"

"I promise."

"Alright. You, uh, wanna talk about it?" Color offered, still concerned.

Delta thought for a moment, but shook his head. He really didn't. He didn't want to think about it anymore.

Color nodded, "That's okay. I definetly can't blame you for that. But, if you do, let me know - I'm here to listen, alright?" He asked, gently rubbing Delta's shoulder.

Delta nodded. "I will. Thank you."

"It's no problem. Think you can go back to sleep, or do you wanna stay up? We can watch a movie, or play a game - go on a walk, if you want." Color offered, knowing that Delta would probably need different options if he wanted a distraction.

Delta thought for a long moment, quietly speaking to Beta about what to do. They settled on a movie.

"I don't think I'm ready to go back to sleep. Could we watch something?" They asked quietly.

Color nodded, "That's fine. Need anything to drink, eat?"

They shook their head, "No, I'm alright. You can get something if you want to, though."

Color paused to think. But after all of this, he decided to just get up and grab Delta some water anyways. "I'm gonna get some water. Wanna come with?"

Delta debated it for a moment, but decided to get up with him. And the two quickly stood, and walked over to the kitchen.

"Watch the glass," Color reminded him, as he used his magic to get two mugs down for them.

Delta was distracted, however, and was now focused on getting something Beta was demanding - hot chocolate.

It was always the kid's favorite drink of choice after a bad nightmare. And after a night like this, they deserved it.

Color only seemed to notice when he heard the microwave start humming. He quickly turned around, to see Delta ready with a hot chocolate packet and extra marshmallows ready.

They both just stared at each other for a moment.

"... want one?" Delta offered. Color nodded, and went over to get started on his.

It took only a few minutes to prepare it, but Color was still confused. However, he wasn't sure if it'd be okay to ask.

Delta, intuitive as ever, knew he was confused. They answered before he asked, "Tradition for Beta and I. After a bad night, we get hot chocolate."

Color nodded, smiling lightly, "Awe, that's sweet."

The two finished their hot chocolates, and quickly headed back over to the couch. They placed their mugs on the table in front of them, getting out blankets and pillows so the couch would be more comfortable.

Once they had finished setting up, Color handed Delta the remote. "You pick."

Delta nodded, thanking him. But, to Color's surprise, he immediately started looking for The Lion King.

Color quickly turned to them, making Delta chuckle lightly, a bit embarrassed. "Tradition."

He chuckled, nodding back as Delta clicked 'play'. Color slung his arm around them again, holding them close as they drank their hot chocolates and watched the movie.

After a little bit, Delta found themselves getting lulled back to sleep as their body slowly relaxed. They tried to resist, not wanting to have another nightmare, but Color gently coaxed him into it.

The rest of the night was peaceful, as Delta fell asleep in Color's arms, holding them close - keeping them safe.

#emzy's writing #psychee's writing #emzy's posts #psychee's posts #delta #delta sans #color sans

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airandyeah · 8 days ago

Text

Bastard Prince!Gojo X Foreign Princess!Reader Heavy Is The Crown Pt.3

My Masterlist Series Masterlist

“You mustn’t challenge him.”

Your mother’s voice is sharp as the jeweled comb she twists into your hair. Every word strikes with precise, delicate cruelty—an art she’s mastered over years of court diplomacy.

“Smile when he speaks. Laugh if he tries to joke. Let him believe you admire him.”

Your father stands near the window, arms crossed, gaze fixed on the snow beyond the glass like it personally offends him.

“This match is vital,” he says without turning. “Their kingdom has the resources we lack. Their people are bred for war. You must—”

“Be obedient,” you finish flatly, cutting the word off before he can.

Your mother’s hand stills in your hair.

There’s a tense pause before she exhales, cool and practiced. “You’re clever, daughter. But cleverness must be worn like perfume—not too thick, or it will sour the air. Today, you are not royalty. You are a gift.”

Your stomach twists.

You are many things. A future queen. A diplomat’s daughter. A woman with fire in her lungs. But never a gift. Never something to be offered and wrapped in silks, your spirit tied down with a bow.

Still—you say nothing. You’ve learned to pick your battles. You’ve learned that sometimes, silence is the sharpest blade of all.

A knock at the chamber door ends the lecture.

A maid pokes her head in with a curtsy. “Prince Gojo’s escort has arrived, Princess.”

You rise, smoothing the fur-lined cloak now draped over your shoulders. The only color you allowed them to pack was woven into your dress beneath it—burnt gold and wine red, like fire licking through the cold.

You meet your mother’s gaze in the mirror as she finishes fixing your hair. “I will be obedient,” you say softly.

Then you smile, slow and bright and blinding.

“But only when it suits me.” You leave them with that final word, the hem of your gown swishing around your ankles like flickering flame as you follow the maid out. The palace halls are hushed this early in the morning, the flicker of torches casting long shadows along ancient stone walls. Every servant you pass dips low in a bow, and still—you feel the weight of their glances. You are foreign. You are a stranger. You are the woman who dared to shiver with bare shoulders at a northern ball. But your spine remains straight, your chin unyielding. When the heavy doors creak open and the morning chill hits your skin, it’s a breath of truth—sharp and biting, but real. The snow has already begun to fall again, soft and endless. A royal escort waits for you—three guards dressed in the icy blue and silver of the North, solemn-faced and silent. One of them steps forward, offering a gloved hand as you descend the steps, careful not to slip. Just beyond the snow-covered courtyard, a sleek black carriage waits, its sides crested with the royal emblem. Two white horses stamp their hooves impatiently, steam curling from their nostrils. And standing beside the open door—casual, like he owns the cold itself—is Prince Gojo. His fur-lined coat is left lazily unfastened, revealing layers of silks and leathers, all in shades of cream and slate. The morning light makes his white hair gleam. His arms are crossed. His smile, of course, is already waiting for you. “Took you long enough,” he calls. “I was starting to think you’d frozen in place.” You arch a brow, stopping at the last step of the carriage, eyes narrowing. “And here I thought northern men were supposed to be patient.” He steps forward and offers his hand—not just as a formality, but like it’s a challenge. You take it anyway. His grip is warm. Steady. A little too smug for this early in the morning. “Shall we?” he says, leading you into the carriage. You sit across from him, lifting your chin in defiance and pride, knowing exactly what’s expected of you today—and already deciding how far you’ll stray from it.

The inside of the carriage is warm, lined with heavy fur and polished wood, but the silence between you and the prince is frostbitten.

He lounges in his seat across from you, legs stretched out just enough to toe the edge of your gown. You sit perfectly straight, hands folded in your lap, your gaze fixed out the window as snow-laced rooftops blur past.

“Did you sleep well?” he asks eventually, voice smooth but far too rehearsed.

“Well enough,” you reply, just as polite. “And you?”

“Well enough,” he echoes with a slight smirk.

Another silence blooms between you, heavy with everything neither of you says.

You glance his way, catching the flicker of his tongue against his teeth like he’s biting back something far too honest.

So you say it for him.

“We’re both pretending not to know we were lectured within an inch of our lives this morning.”

Gojo huffs a laugh—quiet, surprised. He lifts a brow. “So you got the speech too, huh?”

You hum. “Be sweet. Be soft. Make him like you.”

He leans forward, elbows resting on his knees. “Ah, mine was more: ‘Don’t scare her off. Try not to be yourself too much.’”

That earns a real smile from you, small and sharp.

“Do they think we’re both so difficult?” you ask, cocking your head.

“I think they know we are.”

Another silence. This one lighter. Easier. Shared.

Gojo grins. “So what do you say? Shall we be unbearable together?”

You pretend to consider it, lips twitching.

“Only if I get to pick the colors.”

“Bright ones,” he says, pointing at you. “Wouldn’t dream of dimming your fire.”

And suddenly, the day doesn’t feel quite so long.

~~~ The carriage slows, the wheels crunching over packed snow as the market comes into view—a vibrant stretch of stone streets and brightly colored stalls nestled between towering, frost-covered buildings.

You can already hear the low hum of chatter, the clink of coins, the bark of vendors selling woven gloves and carved trinkets, and the scent of spiced cider drifting through the cold air.

Inside the carriage, Gojo’s shoulders shake from laughter—genuine and unrestrained.

“No, no—wait,” he says between wheezes. “You’re telling me your cousin actually set his ceremonial robes on fire trying to impress a suitor?”

You’re laughing too now, warm and open, a hand braced over your stomach. “It took six guards to put it out! And he still didn’t win her favor. I think the smell of smoke followed him for a week.”

Gojo grins, bright and a little wild, like winter sun catching on snow.

The carriage comes to a stop.

The coachman, unaware of the scene inside, opens the door with perfect formality—only to freeze.

Because instead of the expected stiff silence or courtly airs, he finds the two of you laughing.

The prince is leaning forward with easy grace, and his gloved hand reaches for yours like it’s second nature. He doesn't hesitate—just threads your fingers together and steps out onto the snow-packed street, your hand still in his.

You follow with a breathless smile, letting him help you down, your gown swirling at your boots, a golden contrast to the white that surrounds you.

For a beat, the coachman just stares—eyes wide.

A guard at the rear of the carriage clears his throat, clearly just as stunned.

This isn’t what they expected. Not the cold, sharp prince and the fire-blooded princess laughing together. Touching like it meant nothing. Or maybe like it meant everything.

Gojo leans in close, whispering beside your ear, “Think that’s enough to start a scandal?”

You arch a brow, smirking. “We’ll have to try harder.”

And with that, the two of you step forward into the market, fingers still laced, ready to burn your colors into this frozen kingdom.

You barely make it past the first row of stalls before Gojo tugs you off-course.

“Not that way,” he says, weaving you past a vendor shouting about candied nuts. “You’ll thank me.”

“Oh? Are we not here for the local ‘charm’?” you tease.

He throws a grin over his shoulder. “I’ve seen what counts as ‘charm’ in these parts. Trust me—no future queen of mine is wearing a shawl made of half-frozen wool.”

The boutique he leads you to is tucked just off the main street, its stone front carved with ivy patterns and frosted glass windows catching the sunlight like fractured ice. Two fur-clad attendants open the door immediately when they see him, their eyes widening when they notice you at his side.

Inside, it’s warm—luxurious. Golden light spills across polished floors, walls lined with silks, velvets, and furs in every cut and shade imaginable. The scents of lavender and old wood fill the air.

Your eyes widen despite yourself. These weren’t just winter clothes. These were statements.

“Prince Satoru,” the shopkeeper greets with a quick bow. “And… oh.”

You tilt your head as the older woman takes you in, her gaze a careful sweep from your sun-kissed skin to your thin gown and uncovered shoulders.

Gojo steps in smoothly, voice light. “This is the Princess of the Southern Isles.”

She blinks. “Ah. Yes. Of course. Welcome, Your Grace.”

“She’ll need proper wear for the cold,” Gojo says, turning slightly toward you. “Something elegant. Regal. And warm, obviously. Fur-lined, but nothing bulky. She still needs to breathe.”

You scoff. “How kind of you.”

He winks. “Only the best for the soon-to-be queen. Can’t have the court mistaking you for a lost summer bird.”

You let him pretend it’s all about image—but the way he watches you as the attendants start pulling fabrics says otherwise. His gaze lingers a little too long. His eyes soften when you run your fingers over deep red velvet or a pale fur the color of starlight.

He watches like he’s not just choosing clothes for you—but choosing how the North will see you.

How he wants them to see you.

Fabrics and furs begin to pile around you—shimmering whites, pale silvers, icy blues. Everything fit for a northern princess, everything cool and quiet, subdued.

You brush your fingers over the corner of a pearl-colored wrap, then lift your chin.

“If I may,” you say, and every head turns.

Gojo watches, amused, as you step toward a rack of velvets and silks in deeper tones—burnt ochres, soft ambers, deep wines, even rich crimsons hiding among the frost-pale options.

“I’d prefer warmer colors,” you say smoothly. “As many as you can find. Golds, reds, saffrons. But not enough to make the wardrobe tacky.”

The shopkeeper blinks, then nods quickly. “Of course, Your Grace. Regal warmth. Elegant flame. Yes.”

Gojo leans a hip against the counter, looking thoroughly entertained. “Demanding already, huh?”

You glance at him from the corner of your eye. “I’ll be wearing these, not you. And I refuse to be swallowed up in snow and stone.”

He smirks. “So you’d rather set fire to the court instead?”

You hum, trailing a fingertip over a bolt of cinnamon-colored velvet. “I’d rather remind them that I carry fire wherever I go.”

He watches you for a moment longer, and something thoughtful flickers behind the teasing curl of his lips.

“You’ll make quite the queen,” he murmurs.

The attendants work quickly once you’ve made your preferences known, scurrying around the shop like winter mice, arms full of fabric and furs. One brings over a measuring tape with careful, trembling hands, asking your permission before taking your measurements with practiced precision.

Gojo lounges nearby on a velvet-cushioned bench, legs spread wide, watching like he's at the theater.

“They’re going to think I dragged you up here kicking and screaming,” he comments, tapping his fingers against his chin.

“You did no such thing,” you say, arms lifted slightly as a seamstress measures around your waist. “But I do believe I’m being trussed like a sacrificial offering.”

He snorts, lounging deeper. “You? Sacrificial? Never.”

As the measurements are finalized, the shopkeepers begin assembling a full collection—three fur-lined cloaks, trimmed with fox and snow hare; two heavy winter coats in your chosen reds and golds; boots tall enough to conquer the snow, lined with soft wool and stitched with care; and several dresses, each carefully folded in rich colors that catch the firelight and glint like embers.

One of the assistants lays out a cloak of deep red velvet with fur so pale it’s almost silver.

“This would be stunning against your skin, Princess,” she murmurs.

You run your hand over it slowly, the warmth of the lining immediate even through your gloves.

“Yes,” you say. “That one.”

Gojo rises, finally, brushing nonexistent snow off his sleeves as he approaches. “I’ll have the rest delivered to the palace,” he says to the staff, his tone light but absolute. “Pack everything. Triple wrap the boots. And—” his gaze shifts back to you “—make sure the colors don’t bleed. I don’t want her looking like she’s melting.”

You glance at him, smiling faintly. “Worried about how I’ll look again?”

He lifts a brow. “Worried about the North not knowing what to do with you.”

You meet his eyes. “Let them learn.”

For a second, there’s silence between you—something almost charged. Then he clicks his tongue and gestures to the door. “Shall we go melt some snow, then?”

With the parcels wrapped and the shopkeepers bowing behind you, the two of you step back into the cold. The snowflakes have thickened, twirling down in lazy spirals from the clouds above. It doesn’t seem to bother you as much this time, your new cloak already warming your shoulders.

Gojo doesn’t take you straight back to the carriage.

Instead, he veers off the main path, guiding you with a hand at the small of your back, toward the common stalls that line the edges of the marketplace. The royal guard follows at a respectable distance, clearly under instruction not to interfere.

You raise a brow. “Going rogue, Your Highness?”

“Call it a detour,” he shrugs, glancing over the rows of vendors selling trinkets, sweets, and handmade goods. “Besides, I think the royal protocol for today is suffocating me.”

You smirk. “Only you could rebel against a schedule you made yourself.”

He doesn’t argue.

Instead, he pauses at a stall where a bent old woman sells winter flowers pressed in glass, their fragile petals preserved in frost. He fingers through the small collection until he finds a snow lily—white, delicately star-shaped, frozen in full bloom within a crystal pendant on a thin silver chain.

He holds it up between two fingers. “Ever seen one of these down south?”

You look at it, genuinely surprised. “Never. They wouldn’t survive a minute in our heat.”

Gojo pays without haggling and turns toward you. “Then it’s yours.”

You blink. “Why?”

He shrugs, draping the chain into your palm. “Because you didn’t complain once. Even when you were freezing. Even when they looked at you like you didn’t belong.”

He pauses, just long enough for the words to land.

“And because it’s pretty,” he adds. “Like you.”

You laugh, tucking the pendant carefully into your glove. “Careful, Prince. You’re dangerously close to being charming.”

He grins, pleased. “Good. You’ll need something to remember when I inevitably annoy you later.” He quickly pays the woman, more than it was worth, and continues on.

And just like that, he walks on—hands in his pockets, snow in his hair, grin lazy and roguish—like he didn’t just quietly take your breath away. ~~~

The carriage wheels crunch over the palace’s stone path, the ride back punctuated with laughter, easy conversation, and the occasional teasing nudge from Gojo as he retells an exaggerated story of his younger years—one involving a stolen falcon, a runaway sled, and a very angry tutor.

You're still giggling as the carriage comes to a smooth stop just inside the courtyard.

“I don’t believe a word of it,” you say through your smile, brushing snow off your gloves.

He places a hand dramatically over his chest. “Princess, you wound me. I was a gifted child.”

“You were a menace.”

He only grins wider.

The door swings open—and just like that, the private warmth of the carriage is broken by the chill of noble eyes and royal presence. Several high-ranking families are walking through the courtyard, cloaks lined with the finest furs, jewelry catching the light. And near the stairs leading into the palace stand your parents and his father, each masked in regal calm, though you can feel their eyes lock onto you both immediately.

You and Gojo step down together, his hand instinctively finding yours again as he helps you from the carriage—his touch casual, natural.

Laughter still lingers in your breath, but you quickly temper your expression, posture straightening. Gojo doesn’t bother.

He tucks your hand into the crook of his elbow and leans down to whisper, “Ready to disappoint them all by actually getting along?”

You shoot him a sidelong glance. “I was born ready.”

He chuckles lowly, then straightens, guiding you forward with the lazy confidence of someone who knows exactly how to unsettle the court by doing nothing wrong at all.

You both walk through the courtyard—side by side, smiling, clearly comfortable—and that alone seems to rattle the onlookers more than if you'd entered arm in arm with blades drawn.

Your father exchanges a long look with his.

Their faces are unreadable.

But you think, maybe for the first time since your arrival, you’re the one with the upper hand.

Your father is the first to speak, his eyes scanning you with that sharp, disapproving edge you’ve grown so accustomed to. Your mother stands by his side, elegant and composed, though there’s a flicker of something softer in her gaze as she watches you. Gojo’s father, too, remains cool—hands clasped tightly behind his back, gaze fixed firmly on the two of you.

Gojo, unfazed, straightens, his arm still lightly guiding you. He doesn’t flinch, doesn't falter in the slightest.

“Well, that was fun,” he says casually, as if you weren’t just under the watchful eyes of every noble in the kingdom. “I think she’ll be alright in this cold after all. Didn’t even complain once.”

Your father’s lips twitch—though whether in approval or irritation, you can’t tell. He doesn’t waste time with pleasantries.

“Did you earn his favor?” he asks bluntly, his tone sharp.

You give Gojo a sideways glance, and he shrugs innocently. “I think we’re well on our way,” he replies, not a trace of humility in his voice. “She’s quite the firecracker. She didn’t back down once today, even when the cold was trying to bite her.”

Your mother gives a small, approving nod at that, but your father’s gaze doesn’t soften. Instead, he looks between you both, his face unreadable.

“You were instructed to—”

“Father, I was instructed,” you cut him off, stepping forward, a touch too quickly, perhaps, but it makes your father pause. “We’ve spent the day getting to know each other. And I think we’ve made more progress in these few hours than you’re willing to give credit for.”

Gojo glances at you, then back at your father, clearly amused by your directness. It’s the first time you’ve seen him genuinely intrigued—like a game he didn’t know he was playing suddenly became more interesting.

“We did, indeed,” Gojo says, his voice smooth. “Your daughter has a fire in her, and I admire that. A little cold’s not going to kill it.”

Your father’s gaze hardens again, but there’s something in Gojo’s eyes—something almost playful—that makes the words that come out of your father’s mouth seem almost redundant.

“We’ll see how long it lasts,” he murmurs, just loud enough for you to hear.

Before anyone can respond, Gojo breaks the heavy silence with a soft chuckle. “You’ll have to wait a little longer to find out, won’t you?”

Your mother clears her throat lightly, and her gentle smile seems to warm the room, if only slightly. “It’s good to see the two of you getting along so well. Shall we discuss the next steps over dinner?” she suggests, her tone a little softer now.

Gojo looks at you, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “What do you think? Shall we take our next step, Princess?”

You tilt your head, meeting his gaze with a knowing smirk. “As long as it’s not another round of cold, I think I’m in for it.”

Your father narrows his eyes, but your mother, sensing the tension rising again, steps forward and gestures for everyone to move inside. “Let’s get out of this chill and into a warm room, where we can all speak freely.”

As you all make your way into the palace, Gojo's presence remains like a fire beside you, and despite your father’s silent displeasure, you can’t help but feel a shift in the air.

Taglist: @megumuro , @pickledsoda , @jinjen Perm Tags: @thenightperson , @makingtimemine

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #x reader #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #prince gojo #princess!reader #royalty au

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sabotage-on-mercury · 4 months ago

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I've never been one for New Year's recaps, looking back at the year's achievements (which achievements asks the imposter syndrom) and highlights, mostly because it forces me to look back at the year's low points as well. I prefer to sort everything away, nice and tidy, in the back of my mind, put on a smile and pray through gritted teeth that next year will be better - not out of conviction, but because it simply has to be.

A few days ago, I stumbled across some lines from a fic I wrote a few months ago, and it stirred something in me. At the time I wrote it, I didn't believe a single word of it.

“Well, stay curious. And brave. You're not stuck where you are forever. It might take you a month or another seventeen years, but you will find something that keeps your soul alive. And it will be worth every minute searching for it.”

Sure, I was clinging on to life with a grim conviction that one day it wouldn't be so painful just to be alive. But that life could actually be good? Hard to imagine.

For many years I never dared to look back, but today I feel brave enough to do so.

And I see one of the darkest periods of my life. I see all the tears and panic attacks and hopelessness and anger. I see the days when I was sure I wouldn't make it to today. I see the wounds and scars that this time has left on me that will probably take some time to heal completely, if ever.

But there is something else that I see even more clearly. Little moments that shine as bright and warm as stars in the night sky.

I see the conversations with the most amazing people over tags, DMs, texts, phone calls, video calls that have brightened my days - and then the absolute joy of meeting my friends in person, being invited into their lives, going on trips, spending a wonderful time together, and the prospect of so many more visits to come.

I see moments of being brave, silly and irresponsible - and being highly encouraged to do so - and how that has given me my spark back.

And yes, I also see Good Omens, the comfort it continues to provide in spite of everything. And, of course, the amazing fandom, with its wonderful creators and creations that bring so much beauty to the world.

I see the hours I spend writing, the joy (and agony) of bringing a vision to life, and the pride of actually finishing something - and then having people take the time to read my stuff and actually like it (still feels unreal). I see myself getting excited about new ideas that may never see the light of day, but that I still love telling to people who are equally excited about them.

I see the people who have come to me for support or encouragement, who have made me feel helpful, who have made me feel like a relevant part of their writing process and their lives, which still fills me with awe.

I see the journey of finding love, for people, for experiences, for things, and loving them deeply.

I'm standing here and I can say with certainty: I feel loved. And I'm so grateful for the ways, big and small, that people show it to me again and again.

I see all these people holding my hand and waiting patiently with me until sun rose again and beyond. And I feel at peace.

And I can look back and embrace it all.

So is everything all right now?

No. I still have bad days, I'm still bitter about the challenges behind me, and I see the challenges ahead, and I know I have a long way to go, to create a life I want.

But I'm here.

I feel alive.

I'm so, so happy to be alive.

I'm beaming with excitement for the beautiful moments to come, however few or small they may be.

And it's worth every minute, every year I've spent looking for something to make me feel that way.

So to all of you: Thank you.

You matter, to me, to the world, to someone in your life.

Happy New Year!

#don't mind me being a bit sappy and emotional for a moment #so much love for the amazing people I found here #good omens #personal stuff #tw depression #mari.txt #happy new year #my posts

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fandoms-are-my-friends-1321 · 11 months ago

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Clueless is an Understatement

This may not be the original idea for Rayne that I had, but at the same time, it is an extremely adorable request that I could not refuse! Plus it allows me to try and write a character that is similar to Mash (I love his brainless antics). I hope that you enjoy this fanfic @jennapancake! Thank you again for the request! Gifs are not mine.

Summary: Y/N Burnedead, Mash's older sibling, followed him to Easton Magic Academy to help protect him on his quest to become a divine visionary. Along the way, they caught the attention of Rayne Ames, who is absolutely smitten by Y/N. The only problem: Y/N does not know how to take a hint.

Warnings: reader has some small injuries, mentions of blood, otherwise none (but if I miss something let me know!)

In a world where magic users dominate the population, there were two non-magic users who were hoping to change their fates and prove that magic was not the only thing that made a person worthy in the eyes of higher powers. The first one was Mash Burnedead: a boy who relied only on his powerful muscles in order to become the divine visionary and allow his family to live in peace. The other is Y/N Burnedead, Mash's older sibling who is also a non-magic user and just as strong as their younger brother. Y/N knew that Mash would face a lot of dangerous challenges and potentially evil foes during his time at Easton Magic Academy, so they took it upon themselves to take the entrance exam as well and help Mash on his quest.

At first, many of the other students wondered why a person as old as Y/N waited so long to join the academy, but they made up the excuse that they were simply too nervous to participate in the entrance exam until now. Of course this was far from the case due to Y/N's trust in their own muscular strength, but it was a necessary lie to keep people off of their backs. Y/N and Mash only allowed trusted friends to know their non-magic status, or the more accurate truth, they all found out after the battle with the Magia Lupis.

"Dude, I still can't believe you have no magic power at all! That is total side character ener-," Y/N smacked Dot across the face before he could finish his sentence.

"And yet you let a side character show you up," Y/N said as they dusted off their uniform. Y/N walked over to Mash and ruffled his hair, causing him to mumble as he tried to fix it. "Come on, you know I don't like my hair being messed with, Y/N."

"I couldn't help it, little brother. You are just too precious sometimes," Y/N said in a monotone and yet excited voice. "Don't forget we have our workout scheduled for 3 today after my classes are finished, and I can't wait to out rep you today."

Mash shook his head from side to side. "Only in your dreams, sibling."

Despite being a first year, Y/N managed to be placed in some upper level courses at Easton, one of which being the Study of Magical Creatures. Rayne Ames, a current divine visionary and the older sibling of Y/N and Mash's friend Finn, also helped to pull some strings for the older Burnedead. It's not that he doubted their prowess, and if anything, it was their power that Rayne admired along with their beauty and talents. However, some of the professors were still skeptical of Y/N and Mash when it came to their "magic" abilities, so he offered his support in their favor.

Today's class would be taking place outside in one of the open pastures by the school, with today's lesson involving herding and calming wild Wrivian's, horse-dragon hybrids that were the size of a small cottage. Rayne was waiting patiently for Y/N to arrive for class, and he caught himself checking his robe for any stray crumbs from lunch. He never used to worry about his appearance since he is usually well-kept, and yet ever since he met Y/N, he felt the need to look even more pristine when he knew they would be around.

Not that Y/N would notice the small details to begin with...

Y/N arrived a few minutes before class began, and Rayne waved at them as they approached. "Good afternoon, Y/N. Are you ready for today's class?" Rayne stated with a slight smile.

Y/N clenched their fist as they took on a fighting pose. "I was born ready, Rayne. Any challenge that these Wrivian's bring, I will take each one down with my fist."

Rayne let out a chuckle as he moved to stand beside them. "I thought you would say something along those lines."

The professor explained the task to the students, making sure to reiterate that no harm should be brought to any of the Wrivian's or they would fail the assignment. All the students broke off into pairs, which would make wrangling the beasts an easy task, but Y/N and Rayne faced more difficulties. Rayne used frontal attacks with Partisan to deflect the fiery breath from the Wrivian, the creature's emerald scales flexing as it weaved expertly through the air. Y/N took more of a distraction approach as they waited for the right time to strike.

"Y/N, they have a blind spot if you move to the right! Now is the time to tame this beast! Remember, avoid harm at all costs!" Rayne instructed as he launched the silvery swords of Partisan one last time.

"Kay', taming magic activate!" Y/N shouted the fake spell as they squatted and leaped into the air, easily reaching the Wrivian hovering in the sky. Y/N grabbed the Wrivian around it's broad neck, the rough texture of the scales cutting into their hands as their weight brought them and the creature back down to the ground. The cloud of dust and the immense crash had Rayne worried, not so much about failing the assignment but for Y/N's safety. I really have fallen for them, Rayne thought as he dashed to the scene. He expected to see the Wrivian knocked out from Y/N's brute strength, but Rayne was shocked to see that the creature did not have a scratch on it. If anything, it seemed quite happy as it expertly stole a cream puff from Y/N's cloak.

"Hey, that's my afternoon cream puff," Y/N whined at first as they looked up at the beast with a minor frown, but as the Wrivian let out a whinny at the sweet treat, Y/N sighed in defeat as their head drooped. "Then again, it seems to be making you pretty happy too."

Rayne gasped as he knelt down by Y/N, who was too distracted by the loss of their cream puff to notice the crimson liquid dripping from their hands. Rayne placed his hands on Y/N's forearms and lifted them up, his cheeks dusting with pink as he felt the muscles under their cloak. "You're hurt, Y/N. Please, let me take you to the infirmary and help bandage your wounds."

Y/N looked down at their hands and blinked. "Oh, looks like I am bleeding, huh? Oopsies." Rayne playfully rolled his eyes at Y/N's unawareness as he helped them to their feet, an arm wrapping protectively around their waist despite Y/N's ability to walk. Y/N's brows furrowed as they looked at Rayne. "Why is your arm around my waist if I can walk?"

"Just a precaution to make sure that you have no underlying injuries," Rayne replied.

"But you can see me walking, Rayne? Are you sure I need assistance?"

The two students finally arrived at the infirmary, and Y/N sat on one of the medical beds while Rayne treated their wounds. He started by cleaning the cuts and applying alcohol to the wounds, causing Y/N to flinch. "Ouchie, that burns a little." Rayne only smiled as his golden eyes remained filled with adoration. Once Y/N was all bandaged up, Rayne laid a kiss on each of their hands. "There, you should be fully healed in a few days."

Y/N tilted their head. "Was that a magic healing spell? Can you teach it to me?"

Rayne smirked as he ruffled his blonde streaked hair. "I could probably teach you the spell over dinner. Would you care to join me?"

"Well I would, but Mash and the others always go to dinner with me on this day of the week. I am making cream puff this evening, if you wanted to join, and the others would be happy to see you." Y/N rambled as they tapped their chin.

"We can bring the cream puff to them when we are finished, but I need your full attention to teach you this spell," Rayne said as he tried to find a way to spend time alone with Y/N. He adored the others yes, especially his brother Finn, but he had longed to ask Y/N on a date for some time now. There was something about them that was charming and adorable, and Rayne could not resist them. Y/N's eyes widened as they absorbed Rayne's words. "Ohh that makes more sense. I will see you then, Rayne." With that, Y/N hopped off the medical bed and left with a brief wave as Rayne started to devise a game plan for tonight.

............................................................................................................................

Rayne arrived at the dorm kitchens around the time Y/N had specified, a bouquet of their favorite flowers in hand. He entered the kitchen and was greeted by Y/N wearing a frilly apron that matched the one that Mash typically wore. They were currently whisking the eggs for the cream puffs with calculated precision. Rayne smiled as he leaned over the counter and presented the flowers to Y/N. "I brought these for you, Y/N, and I hope that you will enjoy them."

Y/N halted their whisking and took the flowers from Rayne, eagerly sniffing the fresh blooms. "These smell like the flowers back home, but I don't know if they will taste good in the cream puffs."

"They won't be going in the cream puffs, you dork. They are for you to look at and admire from afar." Rayne explained as he conjured up a glass vase. Y/N let out an exclamation of excitement as they tapped the vase to see if it was real before going back to whisking. Rayne rested his head in his hand as he watched Y/N make the cream puffs from memory. While the cream puffs were baking, Rayne took this as a sign to make his feelings known. "I am excited to try these delicious cream puffs, but I have no doubt that they will not be as sweet as you are."

"I always put four cups of sugar into the dough, and along with this custard cream, they will be the perfect amount of sweetness." Y/N assured as they plopped down in the seat next to Rayne. They perked up as they remembered the conversation they had with Rayne earlier. "Oh, you said you would teach me that healing spell? Unlike my brother, I can learn things pretty quickly."

An idea materialized in Rayne's head as he pretended to pop his knuckles. "Luckily, this spell does not require a wand like most spells, and I believe that you have the abilities and strength to master this spell in no time. Firstly, you take the hands of the person that you want to heal." Rayne turned to face Y/N as they took their hands in his, the bandages from earlier soft to the touch, but Rayne wished he could feel Y/N's actual hands instead. Y/N continued to absorb the instructions like a sponge as they replied with a "got it".

"Next, you approach the subject closer so you can determine the state of their injuries." Rayne closed the gap between him and Y/N until their face's were inches apart, allowing him to admire all of the amazing features of Y/N's face. He swore that no deity could be more gorgeous than them. Y/N nodded as they maintained eye contact with Rayne and made sure to process each step clearly. "Finally," Rayne started as he placed a hand on Y/N's cheek, "You perform the healing spell." Before Rayne could complete his plan, the loud ding of the oven interrupted him, and Y/N shot up from their seat faster than a lightning strike. "Cream puffs are done!" They shouted excitedly.

Y/N finalized the delicious treats and handed the first ones to Rayne. He bit into the pastry and hummed with delight as Y/N ate their portion of the cream puffs in a few gulps. "These are perfect, Y/N, and I must admit that this would make for a perfect date," Rayne said as he smiled more than he had in months. Y/N was once again confused.

"Isn't that a type of fruit?"

"Yes, you are correct, but it is also the time spent between two individuals that care about each other as a way to show affection for one another. Y/N Burnedead, I care about you more and more each and every day, and I would destroy every evil force in this magical realm if it means that you are safe by my side. I would be yours if that is what you wish, but if you need more time, I understand completely." Rayne blushed as he rubbed the back of his neck, but Y/N still could not see the full picture.

"I could help you beat up the villains instead, but I would need to focus on more bicep training first. Maybe Mash would know-," Y/N's sentence was cut short as Rayne gently pressed his lips against theirs as his hand returned to caress their cheek once again. Y/N did not fully understand what to do, but they did enjoy the feeling of Rayne being so close to them. When Rayne pulled away, the realization of his words and actions finally set in, and Y/N turned as red as the strawberries they used in the cream puffs. Y/N's brain started to short circuit as the affection became to much. "I-I-I guess that t-t-this makes us a, makes us a..."

Rayne kissed Y/N's cheek as a genuine laugh rumbled in his chest. "Yes, this makes us a couple, if that is what you desire. There is no one in all of Easton that would make a better match for a divine visionary."

Y/N could not help but smile as they fiddled with their hands. "I-I would like that very much."

Bonus:

"Did you save some cream puffs for me?"

"Of course, I always save the perfect ones for my favorite little sibling." Y/N handed over the cream puffs to Mash as he excitedly munched on the pastries. Lemon and Finn had just entered the room, and Lemon could not help but squeal as she nudged Y/N with her elbow. "And I heard that Y/N made cream puffs with the Rayne Ames last night!!! So, did anything exciting happen?! I must know!!"

Y/N shrugged as they took a bite from their own cream puff. "Rayne taught me a new spell while I made the cream puffs. We also kissed, and now we are dating. Nothing too exciting though."

Lemon screamed with joy as she nearly fainted at the news, but it was Finn whose jaw dropped as he flailed his arms in the air. "YOU'RE DATING MY BROTHER?! AND YOU KISSED?! I did not need to know that!!" Finn dashed from the room as his face flushed with embarrassment, but Lemon wanted to hear more.

"So, do you want to go over wedding plans with me?"

Tag list: @mayurin17, @thebasicbword, @kemis-world, @sereniteav

#rayne ames #rayne ames x reader #rayne ames x reader fluff #rayne ames fanfic #rayne ames x reader fanfic #mashle magic and muscles #mashle magic and muscles fanfics #rayne ames fluff fanfic #mash burnedead #finn ames #divine visionaries #mashle #mashleverse

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phan3145 · 7 months ago

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Title: Slippery Slope. Fandom: Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes. Rating: T. ( Cursing, Implications, Intensity) Pairing: Eventual Noa x Human!Reader.

***Notes: So good to be back! I do not have another chapter in the bank, but I will be writing as fast as I possibly can to give you guys regular updates! Also, you have no idea how much Epic: The Wisdom Saga is inspiring future content of this story. I hope you all enjoy this chapter, please leave thoughts and comments, I love reading them! It’s good to be back 😊

Chapter 11: Together Strong

Noa

By the time he had finished, remembering as much as he could about her year as a pet, he felt worse than he had before. His fists were clenched so tightly now, that the object in his hand had started to cut into his skin. As he spoke, Soona and Anaya listened quietly, their eyes speaking volumes about what they were feeling. During his time searching for his clan, Soona and Anaya had been prisoners of Proximus. He knew nothing but freedom, they on the other hand, knew what it meant to be caged. What had been a few days for them, in slightly better conditions, had been a year for their Echo. He could only imagine the way she felt, but Soona and Anaya could understand.

Soona spoke first, breaking the momentary silence, “Explains…much.”

He nodded, eyes glancing over to see Anaya returned to his hunched position, his right hand outstretched in front of him. His Sunset Brother was quiet, only staring at his open palm. He did not understand why. Again, for Anaya to be so silent, worried him. He hooted a few times, attempting to get Anaya’s attention, but he just closed his eyes, head bowing. Another moment passed before Anaya sighed deeply through his nose, palm clenching suddenly into a closed fist.

“Wrong,” Anaya murmured. Soona’s head turned, looking towards Anaya in silent support. She carefully placed her hand on his shoulder, Anaya’s hand coming up in a quick motion to hold hers there. It was a surprising and strangely intimate moment between them, though Anaya would not look at her. He refused to look at either of them, actually. Anaya was working through something, and he knew it…he just did not know what it was.

He felt himself tilt his head in observation of his Sunset Brother, who never thought about his words or actions. He lived his life unburdened, as if he were still a youngling, something even Proximus had been unable to steal from him. Now, he noticed a different side to him, that perhaps was always there, and he had just never been able to see it. Or, there had just never been moments like this for him to show it. Anaya was thinking, deeply, fist slowly unclenching as he made a decision. Anaya gently released Soona’s hand, standing to his full height.

The three of them had moved to the floor of the tower as the weight of their Echo’s story threatened to overwhelm all of them. Each time he thought he could not go on, they would sit and wait patiently for him to continue. Now, as Anaya stood, he rose to join him, noticing his Sunset Brother’s posture was taller than he had ever seen him. The curve to his shoulders was gone, his slightly arched back perfectly straight. This was not on accident, as Anaya turned, his teeth were bared at him. “You should have…told us…you were wrong…you are wrong Noa.”

His stance and words were a surprise, but he already fought one friend today, he could not fight another. He would not. He did not bow, but he did not bare his teeth in return. He nodded, “I was wrong…was worried…the elders-”

“Elders!” Anaya interrupted with a growl. “Elders…are not you…are not Master of Birds…you lead…us…not…them.”

Soona hooted in agreement, “You do not…have to listen…to them Noa.”

He huffed, stepping away and turning his back to his united siblings, arguing, “To ignore their wisdom…ignore their guidance…to put an Echo above the Clan…would make me…a terrible leader.”

“Do you…feel like a good leader…now?” Anaya challenged.

That stopped him. He could not move, the gravity of the question binding him to the very wood beneath his feet. He did not feel like a good leader…then again he never did. He had no experience, no training, and no choice. After Proximus, every member of the clan bowed to him, the one who never once bowed to the tyrant king. It was unexpected, but the elders agreed Noa was the only suitable ape to take up the mantle once they returned home. Apes of course, always sought the strongest branch, sought the strongest ape to lead the clan. He had set himself apart, and inadvertently hurled himself up in rank. His bloodline did nothing but solidify the Clan’s choice as well. Koro’s son, son of the Master of Birds, his rightful successor.

He swallowed the collection of saliva that had rapidly gathered in his mouth, turning again to face Anaya and Soona. He wanted to speak, but could not form the words as he stood there. He could not confess his true fears, confess what he had been trying so hard to deny and hide. He was not the leader everyone wanted him to be. He was jumbled, unsure of himself and how to move forward. He adopted Caesar’s beliefs because he knew that he could never go back to how narrowly he viewed the world around him before. Life was more complicated than that. Ape and humans, were more complicated than that. Caesar knew this, understood it, and he was only starting to learn about it.

He would never be his father, he could not be. Koro was content to leave things as they were, iron faith placed in their traditions and way of life. Not him, he wanted more- yearned to know more. He could not be a leader like Caesar, a leader of legend that spanned generations, always sure of himself and his place in the world. He doubted himself all the time, and ever since meeting their Echo, it only became worse. He only knew how to be himself, trust his instincts and mind to guide him.

Now, those instincts told him to do one thing, while his mind argued the exact opposite. His earlier argument was proof of his inability to understand like Caesar, or to be loyal like his father. He felt his thumb absentmindedly rub against the object in his hand as he processed his own thoughts. It felt oddly freeing, finally allowing himself to admit what he had denied for so long. The weight was still there, but it seemed more manageable with the truth fully acknowledged.

He locked eyes with Anaya then, who waited patiently for him to speak. The truth seemed to be the answer to his struggle, so perhaps that was the only thing he could say now that would make sense. “I do not…know how to be…what everyone needs…me to be.”

Soona’s eyes widened a fraction, glancing between the two males in front of her. Anaya covered his teeth, voice returning to the familiar tone he had grown up with, though his stance did not change as he explained, “Anaya has been with you…since the day of our birth…will be here…until the day one of us…no longer breathes…you only need…to be yourself…not Master of Birds…not Eagle Clan leader…just Noa.”

He avoided Anaya’s eyes then, suddenly feeling unworthy of his Sunset Brother’s loyalty. That’s when he noticed the object clasped tightly in his hand. It was the crown he had made. Had he been holding it this entire time? It was warm from his touch, so he must have been. Even running after Anaya, he held carried it as reverently and carefully as he would have an egg…up hill and into the Eagle enclosure. During his retelling of their Echo’s story, he had been holding it like a youngling’s favorite toy, clutching it tightly to his chest and allowing it to comfort him.

Anaya moved towards him, his gait confident as he gripped Noa’s arm, the one holding the crown. He raised it to be eye level with both of them, Anaya glancing at the gift before shifting his focus back to him. “Brother…friend…builder…crafter…thinker…clever ape…be those things…that is all…we need…was enough before…is enough…now…be Noa.”

He felt the breath release from his chest, Anaya’s words striking at the bad thoughts in his mind like he would a boar. He needed that reminder, no matter how challenging it had been to accept. Anaya believing in him as he was, it gave him the strength he needed to think about the future. To think about how he would fix things with their Echo. Until then, he clasped Anaya’s arm, pulling him in to brush foreheads. He felt Anaya’s other hand come up to pat him on the back, Soona soon joining them in their reconciliation. She hugged Anaya from behind, the weight of both of them knocking him back a step before he caught his balance.

Soona raised an arm over Anaya’s shoulder to brush her knuckles against his temple, blowing a raspberry before agreeing, “Apes together…strong…we are…with you…Noa.”

He nodded, “Will try…to be worthy…of your loyalty…will try…to earn Echo…forgiveness.”

The moment was broken suddenly when Anaya sniffed loudly, gently brushing Soona off of him and taking a few steps towards the open archway. He stopped, turning to ask, “Noa…what is…human word…Mae taught you?”

He was confused. Then the familiar scents hit his own nose, followed by the sound of creaking wood, as many apes made their way to Eagle tower. He felt his muscles tense, the hair along his hackles threatening to rise, “Shit.”

“Yes,” Anaya said, nodding rapidly as his gaze remained on the open arch. “That is the word.”

Soona arched up onto her toes to see the five bodies rounding the corner. She made haste to pull Anaya to the side, calling, “We will…be here…silent.”

His nose wrinkled at the thought, but he remained in place as the elders entered, looking displeased. He huffed once, greeting them with respect, “Elder Luna…Elder Tane…Elder Bhai…Elder Asani…Elder Moros.”

Each elder bowed their head to Noa as he addressed them. Elder Moros stepped forward amongst the five, the one elected to speak on their behalf. The rest of the elders descended to the floor, and Noa followed Moros as he chose to seat himself as well. He respected their need to sit and rest at their age. Elder Luna turned her head, spotting Soona and Anaya off to the side, nodding her head once and raising a hand discreetly in greeting. Soona returned the gesture nervously, before going completely still.

Elder Moros huffed, “There was talk of…a great disturbance…in the village…one the Master of Birds…quickly moved to the…Eagle Tower.”

He saw Anaya shrink next the Soona, shoulders once more taking on that familiar curve as she attempted to comfort him. He avoided staring too long, not wanting to alert the elders of their presence just yet. Instead he hummed, “Yes.”

Elder Moros raised his brows, “I hope it has been…dealt with…there were whispers…it was about…an Echo…your Echo?”

He raised his head a little higher, “It was…the matter is finished…but the Echo…she is not…here.”

There were disturbed hoots from several of the elders behind Elder Moros, who sniffed, “We believed…Echo would show…today…Eagle Sun was seen…returning without you…so the village…could prepare…was this untrue?”

He felt his hackles begin to rise, and with a curled fist he confessed, “It was not…I brought her…to the edge of the village…but she ran.”

More whispers and hoots from the elders, Elder Luna the only one to remain silent before Elder Moros raised his hand to command quiet. “Echo…ran…this is unusual…concerning…I must insist once more…you give up this pursuit…of the first elder…and leave this Echo…to be chased away…least she bring…destruction upon us…as the last one did.”

“His name was Caesar!” Anaya snapped as he stepped forward, Soona tugging at his arm in a useless attempt to stop him. “And this Echo should be of no more concern to you…than a butterfly…she does not deserve to be chased away…she is kind, and true, and has taught us much since…since meeting her…we…we know more….and she…she is not dangerous father…E-Elder Moros.”

Anaya’s speech began to slow and lose its authority as Elder Moros stood. The slip in title caused a spike of fear to trail up his own spine. Anaya’s father, Elder Moros, did not claim him often as his son, though it was true. His mate was older, much like Moros himself, when Anaya was conceived. The pregnancy was a surprise that went well enough, as the previous ones had, but there were complications after birth due to her age. She died before a full lunar cycle had passed, and Elder Moros wanted nothing to do with the youngling that he believed caused the death of his mate.

That was another reason the three of them had been inseparable. Moros and Koro had been lifelong friends, and while Koro did not condone the treatment of Anaya by his father, he knew the only thing he could do was take in the abandoned chimp and hope Moros would eventually see reason. Dar, and Soona’s mother Lyra, had taken turns nursing him as a baby, and they were raised as brothers under Dar’s care. Moros had been fine with this arrangement, occasionally acknowledging Anaya as they grew together, but more often than not keeping his distance and focusing on his duties within the clan.

In all that time, he had never seen Anaya say more than a few words to Elder Moros, let alone speak against him. His father took a few steps towards Anaya, forcing his son to bow his head in a clear show of respect. Anaya held his arm out to push back and shield Soona from his father’s potential ire. Elder Moros was indifferent as he spoke, “I see you are still…causing a disturbance…regarding this echo…if she wants to run…we should let her run…dangerous or not.”

He saw Anaya bare his teeth then, brows furrowing as he pushed back from the alcove, standing straight once more, fully concealing Soona’s form in the process. “She is scared…she is true Echo…she accepts and cares…for apes…who treat her…with respect.”

“What respect…does an Echo deserve?” Elder Moros snarled. “You speak of respect…yet you should not…be here…you are not welcome…among the Elders.”

Anaya lowered his head again, hurt swirling in his eyes. Elder Moros scoffed at Anaya, clearly satisfied with himself and Anaya’s submission, but the words and actions crossed a line with him. A line he would not abide. He stepped in between the two, chest to chest with Elder Moros, who took a large step back as he surged forward. “He is welcome…maybe not by elders…but Anaya and Soona both …are welcome among…the Master of Birds.”

One hand reached for Anaya, the other for Soona, guiding them by the shoulders to his spot in the center of the room, facing the elders. He placed Anaya to his right, and Soona to his left. Anaya faced Elder Asani, and Soona faced Elder Luna, who could not hide a smile upon noticing that his Sunset Brother and Sister were being forcibly recognized. Elder Moros looked shocked and somewhat unsettled. Good. He did not spare him a second glance, announcing, “I will no longer hear words…regarding the Echo and her…strange behavior…she will be met when…or if…she ever decides to enter the village…of her own free will…I have spoken with her…on many occasions…have learned from her…have much respect for her…will not let apes who do not…speak of her intent…I trust her…that is the end.”

Elder Moros huffed, “You trust other Echo…and she killed many apes…selfish in her own…pursuit of freedom.”

“She was not selfish,” Soona challenged, surprising everyone present. “She was forced to act…to do what she thought…best…Proximus was the threat…and that was without…the human weapons…she possessed.”

“Such loyalty…to a dishonorable…Echo,” Elder Moros spat, teeth slightly visible. “Do you not remember…your own mother was swept away…by her ex-plo-sion weapon?”

“I do remember,” Soona replied calmly. “I also recall my father…beaten and killed by Proximus apes…starving and too weak to fight back…I remember…Mae saved my life…saved our lives…killing another human…to protect us…to free us…you can not…call her selfish…while I breathe.”

This shocked even him. They never spoke about the flood, of Mae’s betrayal while they all fought to survive against the incoming water. Soona always seemed as though she did not care for Mae, but apparently there were more complex feelings for the human than Soona had let on. She was not alone apparently, Anaya arguing, “She did more…to free us…to free Eagle Clan...without apes dying…but Proximus…smarter…no other way…to stop him.”

“Noa stopped…Proximus.” Elder Asani spoke from behind Elder Moros.

He shook his head sadly, “I planned…to flood the vault…lead clan away from kingdom…while Proximus was distracted…it did not happen…as we planned.”

This surprised many elders, a harsh silence engulfing the group. Much like the elders of the past, they did not ask questions about that day in Proximus’ kingdom. They did not want to know. Their desire to return home, to forget what they had experienced, had caught up with them. They could not argue against the truth, which they had chosen to ignore. Elder Moros would not be deterred it seemed, snarling, “It was still…the Echo’s fault…she chose herself…over the many…Echos can not be trusted...this is why for many generations…we chase…the pests away.”

The loud hiss to his right made him jump, Anaya pushing himself forward onto his knees as he growled, “She is not…a pest…does not deserve…to be called one.”

“You dare speak…on what this Echo…does not deserve!” Elder Moros accused. He had never personally heard the elder raise his voice before, feeling the tension in the room grow now, as father and son were suddenly face to face, inches apart. “You have spent…time with her…so speak true…what does this secretive Echo deserve…from apes of the Eagle Clan?”

Anaya did not hesitate, eyes unblinking and lips firmly over his teeth as he gritted out, “Your…respect.”

Elder Moros sniffed, leaning back into his sitting position and turning away from Anaya, “You have…more of my respect…than Echo pest ever will.”

“Enough!”

The room shook from the resounding vibrations of the shout, the few eagles within the sanctuary screeching and taking flight to find their bonded-ape within the village. The quiet and stillness that followed made him uneasy, but when he noticed all eyes were on him, he realized the shout had come from him. He was standing now, towering over the others as they all bowed their heads. Elder Moros, while reluctant, also bowed his head, keeping his gaze on the floor below him.

Soona was the first to raise her head, gaze finding his and silently questioning if he was alright. He gave a single nod, breathing harshly once through his nose to clear his mind. This is exactly what he had tried to prevent. Their Echo knew…she knew all along. Apes would not accept her just because he said so, apes like Elder Moros would also find fault with her simply for being an Echo. Still, he would not give up. Anaya was right, she deserved more than this.

He would not let his Clan become like them.

“Hear me now,” he began, waiting for all heads to raise. When he had their attention, he continued, “This Echo is not a threat…not a danger to the clan…she is…more…she is as first elder was…she teaches about fairness…kindness…equality…and humanity…something that has been dying…from her race.”

“What is…humanity?” Elder Tane asked.

He was not sure how to answer that. He only knew what it was, because he knew their Echo. She was humanity, the best of all qualities found in her species. He opened his mouth, words ready to tumble forth, when his gaze shifted to a bowl resting on a table to his left. All thoughts ceased. His attention was caught by bright red berry and sap mixture they used to create nest binding. His brows creased and lips pursed as he carefully scooped up the bowl, an idea forming in his mind. He paced over to the nearby wall, grunting once as he explained, “Humanity…is complicated…it means many things…from what I have learned…sometimes it is about…doing what is right…when right seems wrong…showing kindness…when kindness has not been shown to you.”

There were confused looks from a few, but he knew they were listening. Soona smiled at him, nodding her head once, urging him to keep going. He dipped his fingers in the bowl, careful not to drip the red mixture as he pulled them out. He looked to the wood in front of him, gliding his fingers in long arcs across the smooth surface. He quickly swiped left to right, right to left, to create the diamond in the center of a larger circle. Below the circle, he was about to write an A, but stopped himself just before his fingers made contact with the wood. He pulled his hand back quickly to hover over the bowl, wondering why he was hesitating now.

Then, he remembered Raka’s words. His voice was loud in his head. His words not so different from Caesar…but more evolved. He continued writing, speaking to the apes at his back, “The symbols have meaning…and this is what…the Echo has taught me…what we have learned…since she…saved my life.”

He drew a long line underneath the words, only now realizing and hoping that he spelled it correctly. He turned, facing the stunned elders now. He found Soona’s gaze, nodding once as she read out, “T-O-G-E-T-H-E-R….S-T-R-O-N-G…”

“Together…strong,” he answered. “This is the…al-pha-bet…humans used symbols…to record…their history…to preserve…what they knew…we are learning…and we can learn more…they are not lesser…we are not better…only together…can we be…more.”

Elder Luna stood, shuffling towards where he stood. She traced several letters with her hand, looking forlornly at the wall before turning to him. “You expect much…Master of Birds…we are too old…to learn the ways of…hu-man-ity.”

He sighed through his nose, jaw slackening as he felt his hope sink. Elder Luna, ever full of surprises, turned back to the Elders present, “Does not mean…Eagle Clan can not learn…Master of Birds…can help them…evolve.”

“We should…discuss this,” Elder Moros argued. “That is what…elder council…is for.”

“It is clear,” Elder Luna huffed. “Master of Birds…does not need…our council…has…his own.”

Elder Luna gestured to Anaya and Soona, both appearing shocked, exchanging looks with each other, as she voiced her observation. Elder Bhai nodded his head, sniffing, “We are…not needed…seems…younglings have…outgrown…their elders.”

“We are allowing young ape…to make decisions for Eagle Clan?” Elder Moros challenged, “Ignoring…generations of…wisdom and tradition…Echo had this knowledge…yet they are…nearly gone…you think…ape will survive…from their ways…when they…could not?”

The elders began to mumble amongst themselves. He quickly stepped in, before Elder Moros’ words could cause an unnecessary rift, “Elders are still…needed…respected…Anaya and Soona are…my Caesar Council…they understand new ways…as I do…Elder Council knows…the old ways…we need both if the Clan…is to survive…from this point onward.”

Elder Luna hummed, “I agree…with Master of Birds…what say…the rest?”

There was a long stretch of silence, before Elder Asani let out a screech of approval. She repeated the sound, followed by Elder Luna. Elder Bhai seemed hesitant, but soon screeched as loudly as the other two. There was a steady chorus of repeating sounds, enough for Soona to feel confident adding her hooting to the fray. Elder Tane took some convincing, glancing between Elder Moros and the rest of the group. Elder Tane glanced his way, the eye contact sparking resolve within the ape. He stood, screeching the loudest and beating his chest with a closed fist.

This surprised him, a shocked gasp passing between his lips as he took a step back, the gift he made for their Echo still held tightly in his hand. Would she be proud of them for this? Would she join in with a yell of her own if she were here? He wanted that- in the future. He was suddenly overwhelmed with ideas of how she could make better the Eagle Clan, make better their home. He had to physically shake himself, trying to stay focused on the apes before him. Only two remained silent…well, half silent. Anaya was still seated, glaring his father down as he kept a thumping tempo, his fist steady on the floor. The harsh pounding of wood added to the overwhelming sound around the enclosure, and feeling the tension rise within the room, Anaya’s father finally relented.

Elder Moros leapt to his feet, screeching his solidarity with the rest of the elders. That’s all it took for the room to suddenly fall silent. He held his head high, nodding once and grunting his acknowledgment, eyes scanning over all present in the room. Elder Tane huffed, “We shall…leave…the Master of Birds…and his…Caesar Council.”

Elder Luna placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, giving a small pat before following the rest of the elders out. Elder Moros still did not seem pleased, but would not dare go against a council decision. Soona’s eyes kept darting between the retreating elders and himself, waiting a breath or two once they were gone before launching herself at him. She hooted happily, wrapping her arms around his shoulders while he clutched her tightly, howling his own amusement.

He expected a third to join them, to hit his right side and cause them all to nearly topple to the ground. When the blow never came, he searched his surroundings. He came up empty handed, even checking behind him. While Soona still celebrated, he breathed out, “Anaya…where…where Anaya?”

Soona seemed confused by his question, releasing him to mimic his previous action. She turned all the way in a circle, looking about the enclosure but coming to the same conclusion as him, “…Gone.”

He could not understand. Where would Anaya go? Why would he leave without speaking to him, or Soona. She looked more hurt by his disappearance than he was, shuffling over to the archway of the enclosure to look out into the clearing. He joined her, looking for the familiar hunched shoulders and swaying walk of his Sunset Brother. Perhaps it had to do with his father, knowing that the indifference, or disappointment, of one’s father could weigh heavily on an ape.

Soona’s cry pierced his thoughts as she pointed frantically towards the stables. There, carrying a torch as his horse passed the stables and galloped quickly into the forest, was Anaya. He grunted, huffing, “Dark soon…why…where would he…go?”

Soona hummed in thought, head swiveling left and right for a moment before her startled gaze locked on his, “Echo!”

His eyes widened, “He would not…so late.”

“You would…take that risk?” Soona argued, “He could…make it worse…dark…Echo is…sensitive…one or both…could get hurt.”

He sighed, agreeing, “Will bring him…home…do not…speak of this.”

Soona shook her head, “Never….please Noa…be careful.”

He nodded, hunching onto all fours to race down the enclosure. He noticed most apes were already at the communal bonfire, the smell of food temporarily distracting him. He shook himself, pacing towards his horse. Only Anaya could un-jumble him into accepting himself as leader, speaking with wisdom beyond his years, and then force him to chase and drag him home like a newborn. It would be humorous if it was not so troublesome. The longer his mind wandered, trying to reason where Anaya might go, the more he realized there was only one place he would go during sunset on horseback. The worst part, was that Anaya had a head start on him. He could only hope their Echo was shut-in her shelter for the night, and would refuse to acknowledge Anaya.

That thought suddenly made his stomach burn. Anaya cared a great deal about their Echo, and he did too. The thought of her ignoring him, leaving him alone outside wanting to speak with her…it brought a twinge of despair into his heart. It reminded him of his own problem. How would he approach her in the future? She would not stay mad forever. Could not.

He lifted himself onto the saddle of his horse, trying to be as discreet as possible, until he made it to the edge of the clearing. He reached forward, using his palm to trace a circle on his horse’s neck before patting it three times. The signal was well received, and once he made sure they were headed in the right direction, he dug his heels in and whipped the reigns. His horse took off in a full sprint towards the creek.

A flapping noise next to him caught his attention, finding Eagle Sun gliding alongside him. He was surprised, knowing he did not care for night flights. He must sense his own distress, wanting to go with him as a form of protection. The ride was never short, but with his mind racing with what he could possibly say, what he could potentially walk into…he had arrived far too soon. Eagle Sun glided to the top of the Echo’s stone structure, disappearing from sight. Again, he dismissed the bird’s actions, climbing down from his horse and tying the reigns to the usual branch. It was funny, that he had established a favored branch, realizing just how often he had come to their Echo’s home. A high pitched whine somewhere in the distance distracted him for a moment, but he ignored it in favor of finding Anaya.

He spotted his horse next to the entrance of the Echo’s home, but did not see Anaya or his torch. There was a small crack of space in the Echo’s door, but he could not fit himself through it. He could only smell the smoke from her fire and see the light reflecting inside. He pounded on the stone, calling their Echo’s name, hoping she would respond. He waited, but there was nothing. He thought for a moment he heard shuffling towards the door, hooting in delight, but when no one responded, he called her name again.

Eagle Sun returned then, soaring overhead and looping back towards the side of the rocks. He recalled the hole in the ground, her other entrance that he was not particularly fond of. Was she back there? Was Anaya? Perhaps she did not want to lift the rock so late…it would make sense to go the other way.

He was careful of his footing in the dark, shadows playing tricks amongst the rocks and causing him to stumble once. His suspicions were confirmed when he saw Anaya’s torch staked into the ground nearby. He rounded the corner, and what he found unleashed a storm of emotions within him.

Their Echo was laying on the ground, her entire body flush on the dirt. Her legs curled together, turned sideways to avoid the ape that was above her. Anaya was standing above her, crouched low on his haunches, with his hands buried in their Echo’s hair. Her own hands and arms were outstretched above her head, laying limply.

He was only distracted from the scene when she turned her face away from Anaya, to look directly at him. Her eyes were wet, like they had been that day in the library, and her face was light red. He did not know what was happening, or what her human features meant, but there was something he could see in her eyes that looked desperate. They were pleading, for what, he was not sure. Still, he did the only thing that made sense.

Following his instincts, he paced towards the two, growling, “Anaya!”

Said ape practically leapt away from the too still Echo, avoiding his gaze and bowing his head. He hooted, “Hello…Noa.”

He growled somewhere deep in his chest, turning away from Anaya, scenting the air as he approached their Echo. She would not move from her place on the ground, but had raised herself into a sitting position at least. She too avoided his gaze, wrapping her arms around her bent knees as he continued to try to decipher the situation before him. It was frustrating, all he could smell was Anaya…and a faint trace of blood.

He wanted to get angry, to attack Anaya for causing harm to their Echo, but he could not find any traces of blood on her. Not her face, her hands, her feet, or even on her clothing. He could not find any proof that Anaya was responsible for the blood smell, but he would not meet his eye and that made him suspicious. He did not understand what he had walked into, and neither ape nor human were speaking!

He huffed, crouching down to be eye level with their Echo. She stared at him now, looking as frightened as she had the day they first met. But why? Did she think he was still angry with her? He tried to smile, offering her his hand, “You are…alright?”

She looked at his open palm, eyes darting to Anaya before returning to him. He turned to see Anaya standing a good distance away from both of them, shifting nervously. When he returned his gaze to her, she simply shook her head and arched slightly away from him. This surprised him, his frustration growing now the longer the silence stretched on.

He stood, ready to demand answers, but Anaya interrupted before he could speak, “Echo…does not want…to speak right now…will meet Noa tomorrow…by water rock…Anaya will…show him the way.”

He grunted, another low rumble emanating from his chest before he asked again, “Echo is…alright…not hurt?”

He noticed a slight tremor to her shoulders before she chose to sign, Echo fine. Speak tomorrow.

He turned from her to Anaya several times, puffing out a frustrated breath, “Fine…Anaya and I…leave now…return home…understand?”

Anaya nodded, and so did their Echo, still on the ground. He turned his head, asking, “On ground but…not hurt…can stand?”

Another brief exchange between her and Anaya, causing him to drive his canines into his gums. Why does she keep looking to him? She carefully stands, as if moving is difficult for her. Once they are nearly chest to chest, face to face, she signs again, Echo fine. Speak tomorrow. Goodnight.

It was a dismissal…one he was not happy with, but would accept for now. He nodded, grunting, “We go…now.”

He backed away from their Echo, watching Anaya follow behind him. Just as they were about to round the corner into darkness, he heard her call out, “Anaya!”

Both of them turned to face her, one in confusion and the other in shock, watching as she practically sprinted to Anaya. She threw her arms around him, smashing her body against his, getting as physically close as she possibly could. Anaya did not seem surprised by this, returning her embrace and resting his chin on the top of her head. He stood there, feeling cold suddenly, though the freezing season was far off yet.

Another breath or two and she was releasing Anaya, staring up at him in silence. He was looking down at her with that same expression, something soundless passing between them. Then she whispered, so quietly he would have missed it had he not been watching her so intently, “Thank you.”

Anaya raised his hand to pat the top of her head. He rested it there a moment before humming, “Anything…for Echo.”

She laughed. She laughed as if nothing was wrong, as if they had not fought before sunset, as if he was not standing there at all! Anger was returning, and he shoved it away, believing Anaya would explain on the way home. Their Echo released Anaya, eyes finally landing on him. The brief happiness he had seen in her gaze was extinguished like a flame, another emotion taking its place. That same one he could not understand, something powerful, but sad and scared as well. Why? She had never looked at him that way before. She gave him a slight nod, before turned and made her way towards her hole in the ground.

Anaya was watching him watch her, feeling his Sunset Brother’s eyes roam over his face. He turned his head sharply, catching Anaya off guard. He jumped back, clearly surprised. Before he could say anything, Anaya began walking, “Yes…we go…go home now.”

He took a deep breath, letting out a long sigh through his nose. He did not know why, but something about what he just saw bothered him. It made the skin under his fur feel irritated. It felt like a colony of ants had burrowed under his fur and were biting him mercilessly. He did not like this feeling, and he did not like that Anaya was the one their Echo was talking to. Why did she not speak with him? It was obvious she could speak, so why? Was it because she was still angry with him? Had he hurt her so much that she would purposely ignore him and talk with Anaya instead? Touch Anaya, in an affectionate way she had never shown him before? As they mounted their respective horses, he was reminded of Anaya’s words he had spoken in the Eagle Tower.

You are not…the only one…who speaks with her.

His chest felt tight then. Watching Anaya bring his horse forward to ride alongside his, he realized how true that statement was. She had trusted him with her story, but she had also trusted Anaya with some of it. She trusted Anaya tonight, more than she did him. Had that always been the case? If not, when had it started? When had Anaya surpassed him?

Anaya did not speak, and the silence made him practically pant for answers. It was clumsy, but he asked, “Echo…was different…what happened…while you two…spoke?”

Anaya refused to look at him, focused on the path ahead. He simply grunted, “We…bonded.”

“Bonded?” He repeated, hoping Anaya would say more. When he did not, he prodded, “Bond…like with Eagle?”

Anaya shook his head, but did not say anything more. This angered him further, and he lost his tact as he spoke, “Smelled blood…on Echo…smelled you…on Echo.”

Anaya jerked his head towards him then, “Anaya…did too…could not…find it…looked…very close.”

He snarled, “Is that why…you were crouched…on top of her?”

Anaya’s eyes squinted, a small amount, but enough to let him know that his Sunset Brother understood what he was implying. “Did not…hurt Echo…would not hurt her…or betray her trust.”

That caught him off guard, it was such a strange thing to say. He calmed a bit, wondering, “What were…you doing?”

There was a long stretch of silence before Anaya confessed, “Helping…Echo.”

“Helping?” He repeated again, not understanding. “How were…you helping…Echo does not like to be…too close to ape.”

Anaya turned his head away from him, growling, “Noa thinks…he knows everything…but you do not know…Echo like you think…you do.”

“If you have…something to say,” he began. “Then…speak up.”

Anaya still refused to look at him as he said, “Echo is not…only yours…do not…treat her like…she is.”

“I do not,” he defended. “Echo belongs…to no one.”

Anaya huffed once, humming, “Anaya thinks… you should…remember that…in the future.”

#kingdom of the planet of the apes #kotpota #planet of the apes #pota #noa #noa x reader #noa pota #fanfiction #kotpota noa #noa kotpota #kotpota soona #soona pota #soona #anaya #kotpota anaya #anaya pota #noa planet of the apes #planet of the apes x reader #Slippery Slope Series

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fqrcefields · 6 months ago

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checkmate!

summary _ , jennifer barkley despises every citizen of pawnee indiana. except for one.

⋆ tags : smut-adjacent? not really sure how to tag this. mature! ⭑ࣶࣸ

read on ao3.

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀────୨ৎ────

From the moment she steps out of the impossibly cheap cab, Jennifer could feel the dullness in the air. Though she appreciates the lack of typical Washington humidity, there’s a replaced sense of total unhealth, of total lack of spirit and verve. As she enters Pawnee City Hall for the first time, it takes all of her might to not turn around and flee. She doesn’t like to use the word poor, but…

Who is she kidding. She loves to use the word. And this town, if one can even call it a town, is dripping in it.

Jen hates to speak to these people. Anyone dressed in business casual attire is not worthy of her time. So, she finds her way to the competition’s office herself. Her heels stick to the floor with each quick step— she moves far faster than any of the sluggish clerks and absurdly high-ranking city officials that don’t seem to really be doing any work at all. Every door she pulls open is also covered in this same sickening stickiness. Thank God for the invention of handkerchiefs.

“Oh, Jesus.” Jennifer can’t help the words from spewing out when she pulls open the door to the Parks and Recreation offices. It’s just all so… sad. The menial workers don’t react to her entrance, barely do anything at their desk anyway. She scowls at the sight of it, of the aging employees typing with only two fingers at a time and the younger ones who stare at their phones instead of doing anything meaningful. Everything is so slow, nothing like the pace of a D.C. election circuit. A real election, something actually worth Jen’s brain power. But hey, it’s easy work, and she’d be damned not to take it. The moment she and the man-child win this town over, she’ll be off to summer on an island. What island, she could not possibly care less. As long as it’s far away from Pawnee, Indiana.

Not seeing the yapping, overexcitable blonde anywhere, Jennifer’s eyes land instead on a much more pleasant sight. The youngest employee who sits with her feet propped on the desk in front of her, reading a book. She has a jadedness about her, as if in this building filled with people who barely know how to do their job, she is the one that wants to do it the least. While Jennifer would usually find this disinterest so stale, especially on someone of this age, there’s something beneath the sideswept bangs that intrigues her, attracts her.

Jen straightens herself, takes the few steps it takes to make it to the younger woman’s desk, leans over it a bit.

“Excuse me,” She says louder than necessary in the near-silent room. The raven-haired employee does not reply, only sticks up one finger as if to say my book is more important than you, continues reading. Jennifer is… impressed. A smirk rises to her lips at the action, and she waits patiently. Though she’d never accept such a thing in her own office, she appreciates the challenge. At least there’s one other person in this God-forsaken town that’s willing to play chess where the others play checkers.

When her challenger finally finishes her chapter, she sets down her book and raised finger, finally glances up at Jennifer. Her eyes widen for a moment, a minute expression that would barely be caught if it weren’t quite literally Jennifer’s job to catch such a thing. The smirk still evident on her own face, Jen speaks up again.

“I’m here to see Leslie Knope.” She leans over the desk a bit more, wishing she weren’t so damn buttoned up, wishing to see that bewildered expression on the intern’s face again.

“Uhm, yeah.” The other says plainly, her voice shockingly deep, carrying the same indifference that the rest of her does. She then realizes her place, must recognize Jennifer Barkley for who she is, and sits up straight in her chair, feet dropping to the floor. She points to the door at her left. “Her office is in there.”

There’s the blush that Jennifer had been looking for. She pulls back, straightens up, flicks her hair over the shoulder once, twice. She turns on her heels with ever the dramatic flair and walks to where the black-painted nail had directed her. Even though this meeting would be excruciating, at least she’d have this little memory of Knope’s pretty receptionist. Or whatever lousy job title the woman held.

“Hey, aren’t you that lady that called Leslie a dog murderer?” The deep voice calls out again, eliciting a silent laugh from Jennifer. As she enters the next room, she looks back over her shoulder, winks to the girl. Jen hates to wear a smile as she enters this meeting, but the puzzled expression she’d been met with could only bring such a thing.

She exchanges false pleasantries with the overzealous blonde, barely registers a word said. They’re discussing campaign strategies, billboards, yard signs… something like that. Who knows. Jennifer is too busy looking out the door to the desk so perfectly placed in direct view. Well, not exactly direct. She has to arch her back and pretend to be looking away out of boredom, but once she has subtly shifted her chair backwards just enough, her apathetic piece of eyecandy is back in view. She can’t take her eyes off of the woman whose nose is deep into her book. Jennifer finds herself far more interested in finding out the title of the book than she is in Knope’s incessant chattering about candy bars and voting procedures. Once she finds out just what sort of book it is that she likes, Jennifer will buy her an entire library’s worth. It’s not like she’d be taking any away from the avid readers of Pawnee, of which there are none. She’d probably be able to buy out the town’s public library with the money she’s making from the Newport family alone. Maybe she will, if it’ll force that straight line into a smile.

It feels like truly an eternity that Jennifer is sitting in this office, though she doesn’t mind it for the view that she’s given. There does come a time where she actually does need to reciprocate the conversation, to act aghast at the implication that she’s not paying attention, and as painful as it is, she turns her attention away from her new obsession. She continues in witty banter for the rest of their allotted time, outsmarting Leslie’s campaign moves with outrageous ease. Seriously, Jennifer Barkley is good at her job. No wonder she’s paid so much.

When she’s finally allowed escape from this small room that smells so much like the most obnoxious cologne known to man, she takes it. Though she could spend hours wheedling out Leslie’s ideas, spinning them into her own far better planned knock-offs, Jennifer is desperate to leave. She can feel her brain actively slowing down with each second spent in this wretched building. So, with the sweetest possible goodbye she can muster up with those last few remaining cells of energy, she leaves.

But, before she does, she allows herself one more little visit to the desk by the window, to the girl who has reassumed her previously relaxed position, her book now propped open on her lap, her eyes moving far too quickly to actually be reading. Jennifer smiles to herself, appreciates the attempt at disregard for what it is, knows that the blush is threatening the intern’s cheeks again. She can tell that she’s chewing the inside of her cheek, forcing her vision away from Jen, but she doesn’t mind. She’ll get the eye contact she so deeply desires soon enough.

The standing of the two reaches into her purse, the bag that she would never let touch a surface in this building, and produces a business card. She slides it down into the open-faced book on the woman’s lap, laughs softly when it elicits a jump out of her.

“Call me.” She purrs, once she finally has the latter’s attention. She sends another wink her way before finally leaving, feet still fighting un-mopped floor.

And as for April… April watches her leave, jaw hanging open as if she’s just seen a ghost. She feels incredibly dirty for the way that her vision glues to the swinging hips, but the curvature squeezed by pencil skirt begs to be worshipped as it disappears into the hallway.

__________________________

It doesn’t take many days for Jennifer to grow painfully bored of her hotel room. One can only watch Joan Callamezzo ramble nonsense for so many hours in a day. And though she does not feel like entering into Pawneean society, there must be somewhere where she can get an actual mixed drink instead of another bottle of hotel wine, so she turns to the internet. It comes to no surprise that Pawnee’s nightlife is far from illustrious, and though her only options are clubs of the night and strip varieties, she settles for the former. She doesn’t even want to imagine what beasts will haunt the night scene on a Wednesday night in the middle of nowhere, but she finds out soon enough upon entering the bar whose name she forgets before even reading it.

Jennifer is caught by surprise that the inhabitants she finds aren’t so monstrous, that she can actually stand to look at them. She may find her way to the dance floor eventually, but even still she’d promised herself not to get too messy in her time here. There’s no way she’s embarrassing herself in front of people whose normal is Jennifer’s idea of sloppiness.

She orders whatever stupid gimmick drink is at the top of the list, needing something that will actually ignite her tastebuds no matter the sugar content, and takes a seat at the bar, surveying the room. It’s quite literally the antithesis of a Washington club. Jennifer’s sure the heaviest drug done in this room is tobacco, if these people even have the gall to smoke a cigarette. They’re all so painfully boring, it nearly puts Jennifer to sleep where she sits. Though she’s far from the life of a party, she could stand to loosen her blouse and make out with a girl or two.

Just as she’s slid an unnaturally purple drink, Jennifer locks onto a form at the end of the bar. It would be impossible to ignore, the swooped bangs and striped shirt, jeans that are neither work appropriate nor fit for a club. The hunched posture was what truly gave it away, her aloof attitude would stick her out like a sore thumb in any crowd, at least in Jen’s eyes. She definitely doesn’t want to be picked out of the crowd, probably isn’t seen by anyone other than Jennifer. They’re both here for the same reason, to have a cheap drink and be on their way.

After a few minutes’ worth of staring, Jennifer’s target begins to move. Not toward the exit nor the dance floor, but to the bathroom, where Jennifer eagerly follows suit after throwing back whatever rancid, over-flavored vodka tonic she’d been served. She pushes past the sweaty bodies of dancers that she figured must be from out of town— there’s just no way this many people even exist in the city limits of Pawnee. Jenn huffs and growls at each body that she forces her way past, hating the feeling of dirty hands on such expensive fabric. She holds herself close, rolling her eyes when several people stumble over her feet.

It's with a dramatic sigh that she finally enters the bathroom. Though she doesn’t mean to be, Jennifer will always be keen on the dramatics, on making her emotions well known. Though careerwise it’d be much better for her to keep a sophisticated mysteriousness such as her impervious intern, she finds it much more fun to tell people exactly what she finds annoying about them.

Jennifer primps herself in front of the mirror; makes sure the string of pearls is on straight, lays down her hair so that it stays in its barrel curls. She’s also quite the stickler for appearance, a trait that the rest of Pawnee so seems to lack. While she looks over herself in the glass, a door swings open behind her, and out emerges her raven, who, when her eyes finally lift to find Jennifer standing at the sink, stops in her tracks. It’s an adorable color on her, this shock and awe on a face so fit for lack thereof. Once again that smirk returns to Jennifer, a grin that’s so easily faked yet in this instance could not be more genuine.

“Aren’t you going to wash your hands?” Jennifer asks slyly, firmly patting the sink beside her. The younger complies, Jen watching her through the mirror as she does so. She notes the serious focus that takes the dark features, the control forced over muscles to cease a smile or a reaction of any kind. Jennifer loves it, the resistance, the denial to admit ones feelings. It’s out of her own book. It’s so intoxicating to have a cat to play with instead of yet another mouse.

“You didn’t call me.” Jennifer continues, lower lip protruding into a false pout. “Such a shame. I’ve already gotten so lonely…” She shrugs, pulls lipstick from her purse, begins to apply it liberally. Though the action forces her attention to her own visage, that of the girl beside her is not lost, still in her peripheral. “At least tell me your name, hm?”

“April.” The shorter replies— though, she may not truly be shorter, it’s only that Jen wears five inch heels where April dons low-top converse. She finally ceases her inattentive hand washing, turns to take a paper towel. When she turns back, however, she is met by a body much closer than it had been, nearly pressing her against the wall. There’s no hiding the rush of blood to her cheeks this time. April must finally face the fact that she is truly, deeply enthralled with this woman. She has been since the first time she’d appeared on the television set spewing that nasty rhetoric about Leslie Knope, her manner of speaking so outwardly charismatic it charmed April right away.

There’s something to be said about charisma and lack thereof attracting each other.

April stutters for a moment, something she’s quite literally never done, brain seeking for something to say along the lines of you’re a dick to my boss, I hate you, but the words never come. Mostly because she doesn’t want to say them. As much as she loves Leslie, how much she wants them to win and for the woman in front of her to stop badgering their campaign on live tv, she is also wholly infatuated with the pantsuits and wicked words.

Jennifer chews her lower lip, which is still curled up into that shit-eating grin, enjoying the mess she’s turned April into far too much. She’d not dare interrupt her babbling nor her bated breathing with words of her own. The ball has now been swung into April’s court, and as greedy as she feels to lay a kiss on those trembling lips, Jennifer wants to wait to see what her opponent swing back.

Though, instead of witty banter or biting criticism, Jennifer is met with hands on her jaw, lips on her own. She accepts it hungrily, not at all needing even a second to realize what’s happened nor to adjust to the touch. It feels all too natural, and it’s instinct that leads her hands down to slide into the back pockets of April’s jeans, her thumbs into the belt loops. What wretched material, denim. She’d hate the rough feeling on her palms were it not for the soft flesh it covered.

They’re both starving for this, tongues dancing for dominance in the other’s mouth, dark red lipstick smudged against skin that hasn’t seen this amount of makeup in quite a while. Jennifer pushes her weight into April with such fervor that she’s forced up onto the sink, the former settling between the latter’s thighs, kissing her until her back hits the cold mirror.

They each elicit soft groans out of the other, that smug smirk ever present on Jennifer’s lips when April gets too loud. Jen’s lips stray downward, down to the strong jaw, trailing her scarlet down onto the clean flesh. Her hands sneak below the woven fabric of April’s sweater, the soft skin rippling in reaction, so cold against Jen’s warm hands that is almost shocks her. Not at all in a bad way, though. It only offers more surface area in need of her kisses, desperate to be warmed by Jen’s coaxing touch.

It's that very thought that forces Jennifer backwards. She stands upright, looks at the mess of her own creation, frowns a genuine frown when April whines from the sudden lack of touch.

“Oh, baby.” Jennifer sighs, pouts more, licks her thumb and lifts it to April’s mouth, which instinctively opens to accept it, yet the thumb swerves to wipe some of the lipstick from her chin. “I’m sorry. But you know I can’t in good conscience fuck the competition. As much as I want to.” Then, she smiles, watching intently how April reacts to this news. The way her brows furrow, her hand lifts and slightly punches the sink below her in anger.

No, Jennifer certainly does not imply to stand by this rule. They’ll find themselves in this club bathroom again quite soon. But she can’t very well allow April her checkmate this early into the game. So she turns on her heels, grabs her purse, leaves with a third (certainly not final) wink over the shoulder.

“I’ll see ya!” She calls, and disappears behind swinging doors.

#𓏲🧸ꜝֶָ֢ annie's fics ⋆⸜ ‧₊˚#jennifer barkley x april ludgate #jennifer barkley #april ludgate #parks and rec #parks and rec fanfic #agathario #agatha all along #femslash fanfic #lesbian fanfic #parks and recreateion #leslie knope

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queercontrarian · 8 months ago

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Eris calls in his bargain with Rhysand: he wants Nesta to join him in the Autumn Court to help him in his scheme to bring down his father.

happy eris week fuckers. this one goes out to @secret-third-thing for being so endlessly patient with me. also thank you to @fieldofdaisiies for being the best beta i could ask for. i love you, please enjoy ♡

@erisweekofficial

Read the whole chapter on AO3

The Bargain

For as long as she could remember, Nesta had had no illusions about life being fair. Her mother had rid her of that idea when she was just a stupid little girl, but despite how well she had been prepared for disappointment Rhysand’s announcement still felt like one giant cosmic joke.

Silence. Complete and utter silence was ringing in her ears as Nesta waited for the male to say something else. Anything else. She had to have misheard him. There had to be a misunderstanding, some sick joke or a cruel prank for how she had behaved in the past year. But she had been good recently, she had tried…

Cassian’s voice pulled her out of her stupor. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” he asked loudly, as if to challenge Rhys to say it again. He wasn’t the only one. No one in the room seemed to comprehend what their High Lord had just announced to them. Cassian was holding Nesta’s hand almost painfully tight, but she was grateful for the anchor, tethering her to the couch, to here and now. Her head was buzzing.

“Eris demands that Nesta join him in the Autumn Court,” Rhys repeated, “To support him in his scheme to bring down Beron. That is what he demands as his part of the bargain.”

“You can’t be serious.” The words broke out of her as she was thinking them and immediately all eyes snapped to her. The ringing in her ears persisted as she felt herself slowly turn to stone under the combined scrutiny of the room and she reverted into her own space. This could not be happening to her right now. She felt the fire thrum in her blood, icy power bubbling up in her, and did her best to fight it down.

“Well, so much for finding out where his loyalties lie. There's your answer I guess,” Amren quipped, leaning back in her armchair. Mor clicked her tongue at her friend and Amren threw up her hands in frustration. “I’m just saying.”

Mor’s face was nearly as pale as Feyre’s, who was clinging to the pillow in her lap like a shield. “I thought our support was to be given after Eris is already High Lord,” she said, “That you would help validate his claim to the throne or whatever he would need after takeover.” Lucien snorted and then quickly cleared his throat as the attention shifted to his corner of the room.

“Apologies, Morrigan, but why would he need help when he is already High Lord? If the magic chooses him, isn't that claim enough?” Amren hummed, choosing to inspect her nails while Mor tried to launch into an explanation.

“I’m just saying, it’s not–”

Azriel interrupted, finishing Mor’s sentence for her. “This isn't the kind of–” He paused, looking at Nesta for a short moment before looking away, “-support we promised.” Both Mor and Cassian nodded at that. Nesta stayed frozen in her seat.

“And besides, his bargain is with you, not Nesta,” Feyre threw in, still clawing at the pillow in her lap. Rhys nodded but his expression was pained.

"That is correct.” Nesta drew in another deep breath. “I am, however, the High Lord Nesta has sworn fealty to. She is part of the Court, and as High Lord I am the Court and the Court is me."

For a long moment no one said anything as they let the reality of the situation sink in, trying to process what Rhysand had laid out for them. Nesta closed her eyes and breathed out shakily before opening her eyes again. Cassian gave her hand a gentle squeeze.

“Reject it,” he said, his voice impossibly calm and steady, “This bargain is out of the question.” He squeezed her hand again, and Nesta wasn’t sure if it was meant to reassure her or him. Her hand felt so cold. She could feel her power’s pulse in her palm and quickly pulled her hand away from Cassian’s.

“The bargain was made long ago. And unfortunately Eris has already told me that any other solution to our deal will be unacceptable to him,” Rhys explained. “He will consider our bargain unfulfilled. This is the support he wants, the only support he’ll take." For the first time he met Nesta’s eyes and she almost believed the sorrow in them when he said “Trust me, I’ve tried.”

She didn't know what to do with that admission. Frankly, she didn't want to acknowledge that any of this was happening at all. Nesta didn't want to speak, she didn't even want to think. She tugged at a loose thread on her dress, wondering if the whole stitching would come undone if she kept pulling. Silver lights danced at the edge of her vision and she squeezed her eyes shut to snuff them out. It was too much, all of it. She had to be dreaming.

Cassian jumped to his feet, pacing a few steps through the room, his wings thrown out wide. She could almost see him tremble with anger. “Nesta is her own person. She can make her own choices, he can't force her to go," he growled, pointing his finger accusingly at his brother. Nesta shivered. Yes he could. He very well could, otherwise they wouldn’t be sitting here.

“He doesn’t have to. I do,” Rhysand replied, running his hand across his face. There was a deep tiredness in his voice that revealed to Nesta that they had already lost this battle.

“And because you are High Lord she has to follow,” Azriel concluded for him. Rhys nodded again and Mor scoffed, though her grasp on the back of the couch gave her true feelings away. It was fear, not anger, that had her fingers damn near piercing the expensive upholstery, the furniture groaning under her tight grip. She too already knew they would find no way out. There was no solution to this but what Eris had laid out for them.

Nesta saw the shield around Feyre light up before she noticed the silver flames licking at her own fingers, and she balled her hands into fists quickly trying to extinguish the fire but it was too late. Before she could even think of anything else Rhysand smothered her in a wave of darkness.

The fire did not go quietly, hissing and cracking so violently that Nesta herself tried to jump away from it, though with the couch at her back there was nowhere to go. Through the noise of the fire she heard several people call out to her but she could place neither where their voices were coming from nor who was reaching out. She closed her eyes, trying to calm down and center herself despite the fire around her, stoically following the mind stilling exercises Gwyn had taught her. Nesta let out another shaky breath and a sudden calm washed over her. She felt her heartbeat thunder in her ears, her blood rushing through her veins along with something else, something older, stronger, fiercer.

Finally, the prickling feeling left her fingers and the fire went out, taking the overwhelming darkness with it. A shocked silence had fallen over the room. Nobody dared to move. Still, Nesta kept her fists closed as if moving her hands even a little bit could rekindle the flames. She was shaking, and she was cold, she was so cold…

“I’m sorry,” she forced out, sounding much more cool and collected than she felt, “I don't know–” She grabbed a fistful of her own dress and felt pure relief when it didn’t catch on fire between her fingers. Gradually, she felt the air around her warm up again as the conversation picked up anew. When she opened her hands she found her fingernails had left tiny crescents pressed into her palm.

“Is there really no way out of it?” Elain asked, her soft voice shaking. “Could you not just… release Nesta from her oath? Then she wouldn’t have to go.” Mor shook her head but it was Lucien who answered. She heard him as if from far away.

“If it was before Eris had voiced his intent to take Nesta as support for the bargain that might have worked, but now that we know… you can’t cheat a bargain.”

Nesta tried to breathe evenly as she inspected the wounds in her palm closer. They weren't simple bruises; she had burned the shapes into her skin. Still, it didn't hurt and Nesta quickly hid her hands under the blanket before anyone else could notice what she had done to herself.

“But it could work. We could risk it, we could stall…” Feyre was nearly pleading, worrying her lower lip between her teeth. There were tears in her icy blue eyes, and Nesta was almost surprised to find she cared so much. Then again her sister cared about everyone, even her. Once more, Lucien was the one to squash her hopes.

“No, Feyre, you can’t risk it. Rhysand won't risk it. Broken bargains are certain to end in catastrophe, but a willfully ignored bargain is just as unpredictable. You remember how badly you were doing in the months after we left Under The Mountain-” Feyre winced but Lucien pressed on, “-and now with the pregnancy… there’s no margin of error for you, and Eris knows it. It's likely why he chose this moment to strike.” Nesta glanced at Rhysand for confirmation. The male had paled noticeably; once again, her sister's life was put on the scale.

“Why didn't you tell me?” Feyre asked, the hurt in her voice painfully obvious even as her mate reached out to her with his hand.

“I only found out yesterday. I'm so sorry, Feyre darling.” But Feyre pushed him away.

“Yesterday was almost twenty hours ago.”

“I know, I was trying… I was trying to find a way out of it, a way to evade the bargain, to-”

“Twenty hours, Rhys,” Feyre reminded him, her voice shaking.

Azriel muttered a curse under his breath, offering a very creative new idea on what Eris should bargain for next, and Nesta withdrew into herself as chaos erupted in the room, Cassian, Feyre and Rhysand all yelling at each other. There was nothing she could have done anyway as everyone else was dragged down the same path Eris had prepared for them.

We'll play later, Nesta Archeron. Had he known then? What had she done? What had he seen that had convinced him he needed her?

When she finally looked up her eyes found Lucien's almost immediately. The male had stayed across the room from her while the Inner Circle argued amongst each other, standing so still he was nearly blending into the wall. His scarred face bore a curious expression. A tad worried, maybe. For her? They barely knew each other. His metal eye whirred in its socket and he turned to the side, his hand reaching up to his face. Nesta could almost feel the high ‘plink’ noise reverberating through her skull as he tapped the eye once and then a second time when it would not stop moving. She quickly focused her attention elsewhere.

Amren seemed to have found a new target in Mor, who was still standing frozen behind the sofa, her dark wine-stained lips a stark contrast to her pale face.

“Well, don't stand there staring like a struck deer,” she mocked the female, throwing a piece of candy from the table in her direction, which Mor elegantly dodged, “it's not you who's going after all.” Mor opened her mouth as if to retort, her pretty face pulled into a mask of fury, while Amren grabbed some more candy to throw.

“Stop it, both of you,” Cassian interrupted sharply, placing himself between the two, “this isn’t helping anyone.”

“You can't tell me what to do,” Amren shot back, but she settled on her couch again, instead opening the paper wrapper of one of the chocolates and popping it into her mouth.

Feyre’s sudden groan of pain broke the petty arguments up right away. Her sister grabbed the back of her armchair hard, face twisted into a grimace. Her mate was at her side in a second.

“What is it?” he asked anxiously, trying to put a hand on her back to feel her pain. Feyre slapped his arm away.

“I am fine,” she said through gritted teeth. Everyone watched as they stared at each other, apparently engaged in another intense mind to mind communication until Feyre broke, turning her face away from her husband.

“Rhys, I said I am fine, I am fucking fine,” she snapped, walking a few steps backwards, out of his reach. Another wave of pain shook her and she pressed her hands into her lower back with a groan. When Lucien reached out to stabilize her, Rhysand growled. Immediately Feyre’s head whipped back to him, her eyes narrowed with anger.

“How deep do you want your grave to be?” she hissed at her husband, “Fucking keep it together.”

Silence fell over the room. The only sound was Feyre's heavy breathing, the crackling fire across the room and, of course, Amren’s candy wrappings. It lasted several seconds before Azriel finally spoke up.

“Perhaps you should discuss this amongst yourselves,” he suggested carefully, placing a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Rest for a while. You're both burdened with far more than anyone should carry, just take this moment to talk it out.” Rhysand hesitated but Feyre nodded briskly.

“Let’s,” she said coolly, gathering herself for a moment before heading for the door without looking back. Rhys followed her much more cautiously.

Nesta tuned out the hushed discussion between the remaining members of Rhysand's inner circle pondering possible solutions that weren’t directly playing into Eris’s hands, looking for loopholes or, in Azriel’s case, the merits of murdering Eris before the bargain could be fulfilled. Nesta wasn't sure of what to do. She didn’t want to participate in the fruitless discussions and she didn’t want to leave alone. She wouldn’t even know where to go - she couldn’t make it back to the House of Wind on her own. So she waited.

Eventually Elain came to sit by her side, leaning her head against her shoulder like she used to when they were kids. Her sister's dress rustled as she tried to get comfortable. It sounded louder still to Nesta's numb brain. Elain smelled like cinnamon and apples and Nesta suddenly, ridiculously, felt sad that none of them would be able to properly enjoy whatever delicacy her sister had baked for their dinner.

“Are you alright?” Elain asked quietly, in that soft, almost sad tone she adopted as of late whenever she spoke with Nesta. Nesta barked out a laugh.

“Obviously not.” Her tone was biting but her sister only nodded.

“Figures,” she mumbled. Nesta only stared back at her incredulously. Then she scoffed.

“Some seer you are. Such perspicacity, what astute observations you enlighten us with,” Nesta muttered. But when Elain looked up and met her eyes she couldn’t help herself. They both burst into laughter, quickly hiding their giggles behind their hands to not startle the others. They might think Feyre's sisters had lost their minds at last, cackling like two crows on a branch at the misfortune of some poor fool down below. And maybe they had, only the poor fool was Nesta’s role to play and misfortune was what the Mother had woven into her life from the day she had spun the first thread of her fate.

All three of them, Mother, Seer and Lady Death herself already knew that there was no changing this path, no matter what the others might tell themselves.

Nesta was going to Autumn.

◇

Read the whole chapter on AO3

#eris week makes miracles happen #like emma updating fics she's been stuck on for months #erisweek2024 #neris to dust or to gold

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mindless-existence1 · 6 days ago

Text

Raph-edging and begging

Authors note: Sorry I got a request for this and then accidentally deleted this so whoops sorry. Also this is for one of my favorites friends who has been waiting very patiently for this hope u enjoy queen.

Also this is rottmnt raph in mind- and the context is him loosing not nyt November

Warnings: Smut, edging, overstimulation, begging, praise, sub raph, no pronouns but fem genitals reader, domreader, handjobs, lingering, biblically accurate turtle anatomy, thats about it

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Y/n." The rough gravel of Raph's voice carries through the living room of your apartment. You jump a little in shock but catch your breath as you turn to look at your boyfriend standing in the door frame. Raph wasn't going to come over today, said something about being busy with his brothers.

You hadn't even heard him come in, Raph and his brothers ninja abilities continued to suprise you. "Oh hey babe!" The happiness in your voice falls basically unheard to the turtle. "Raph?" You call out to your boyfriend as he walks across the room towards you.

The terrapin ignores you and when he reaches you he takes you in his arms, lifting you up and cuddling his face into the crook of your neck. You swear you can hear him sniffing you, letting your sent wrap around him. "I missed you." Is all he says in a low deep tone. The words dripping with love and something more desperate.

"We saw eachother yesterday Raph." Your voice turns into a laugh as you wrap your arms as best you can around him, they loosly lay atop his shoulders. "But... I still missed you." The neediness in his tone ever so evident. "Yeah?" The question is rhetorical but the sultry tone still makes Raph let out a heavy breath.

"How'd you miss me hun?" You bring out the voice you know makes Raph weak. "I-" He cuts himself off, too embarrassed- or unsure - to say what he wants. Raph sets you down gently, his large calloused hands still caressing your body. "Use your words Raph."

The terrapin sucks in air quickly, he knows it's an order, your words firm but soft. "Raph was feeling needy and...", "Horny?" You finish for him. Your boyfriend nods his head almost ashamed, eyes downcast. "You know what month it is baby, can't be loosing the challenge right?"

Of course he knew, how could he not? Everytime his thoughts went dirty they were immediately shot down by the memory of you telling him you'd like him to try no nut November out. "I know just, what if I don't loose the challenge? But we still did..stuff." Raph attempts to reason with.

You think for a second before responding, "you want to edge yourself? You think you can't handle it?" Before even thinking about it he nods his head quickly. "Thought I said to use your words?" Raph quickly corrects himself, "Yes I do."

That leads to Raph resting against your head board as you strip. "How do you want to do this hunny?" Your silky sweet tone makes him flustered, such nice words in such a dirty situation. "I- Idon't know what I can take." He admits shyly.

"Want to start with just my hand?" Raph nods along, even just the thought of a hand on him makes his tail twitch in excitement. "Yes please." Quickly he answers with his words knowing you'd reprimand him if he didn't.

"Good boy." Without even sparing a glance to his face you praise him. Raph watches you climb onto bed and atop him, barley able to get your legs around his legs. You nails rake down his plastron gently untill you get to his shorts, he shudders at the feeling of your fingers tugging them down.

With a long pull you fully take off his shorts, throwing them somewhere in the room. One hand gently pet's Raphs thigh, while the other rubs up and down on the slick slit in his tail. Raph shudders at the feeling his body tensing every time you push into him.

"So wet already Raph, we haven't even started." You exclaim when your fingers slide through the tight slit with ease. Raph chocked on the moan riding in his throat, sensitive from almost a month of nothing. "You're so pent up huh, going to let me make you feel good?" There's a challenge in your tone that contradicts how soft it sounds on your lips.

"Yes- please. Want it so bad." His voice trails into a whimper at the feeling of your fingers starting to pump in and out of him. His large body seemed to fold on itself at the feeling, every drag of your digits furthered the arousal pooling in his stomach.

It didn't take long for you to feel something prod at the tips of your fingers. Everytime you grazed it Raph's moans heightened in pitch. "You ok there big boy?" The teasing tone didn't seem to reach his ears all the terrapin could do was nod. "Raph's going to drop."

Those four words carried a beg with them, it wasn't enough though. Without stopping the fast pumping of your fingers you watch confusion flood Raphs features. "Cant- fuck can't drop if you keep-"

"I know hunny, gotta beg for it if you really want to." The moan Raph let out was whiney and desperate, for a few seconds after you spoke he just shook from the pleasure of it all. When your fingers stopped their movements entirely Raphs eyes sprung open, suddenly alert.

You kept them inside though, keeping his painfully hard dick inside. "Shit y/n wanna drop please can't take it. Wanna be good for you! Can't be good like this please please ple-" You abruptly pull your fingers from his tail, normally Raph would be embarrassed from the slick wet sound his dick makes when he drops but the intense wave of pleasure just makes his mind go blank.

Your hand is ready to wrap around the base tightly stopping him from coming. His body shakes slightly untill he comes back to it, look down to your hand. Noticing his look of confusion you say "Thought you didn't want to come? Wanted to win the challenge?"

Raph had completely forgotten about no nut november, more focused on how your hand made him feel. "I don't care I just want-" Your hand stops its movement entirely, it stayed squeezing the base. A wave of panicked shock washes over Raphs face.

"Wait no please-!" You take at him shaking your head, the hand not on his cock goes to hold his face. "I know baby, I know. But I thought you wanted to be good, and win?" The terrapin shakes him head with a whine, "I do! It just hurts. Need to come so bad." With mock sympathy you nod along with his words.

"If you come now you can't fuck me, isn't that what you want?" Raphs eyes are watery but he happily nods, "Yes please y/n, want you so bad." You can feel your underwear get damp from the desperate words from your boyfriend.

Without another word you take your hands completely off of Raph, he let's out a displeased whine at that, and slip them into your pants. You pull off your pants and underwear all at once, throwing them off to somewhere near your bed. Raphs hands instinctively reach for your waist and thighs.

He lightly squeeze your plush thighs, his thumbs rubbing circles where they lay. He watches as you take off your shirt, revealing your bare chest to him. A warm hand raises to rub up and down your sides in admiration.

His breath hitches when he feels your hand go to his cock unexpectedly. "Gotta prep me hunny, can you do that for me?" His eyes locked on yours and full of desire he nods quickly. One of Raphs large hands reaches to spread open your legs on his lap.

He takes one if his thick digits to your wet entrance, he rubs up and down before slowly pushing inside. You moan at the feeling of his finger curling inside you. "Feels good Raph." You moan out after a few more minutes of him prepping you.

Out the corner of your eye you see him take his other hand down towards his leaking dick between his legs. "Did I tell you you could touch yourself?" Raph looks back to your eyes, he takes a minute to collect himself before retracting his hand while shaking his head.

You can see him contain a whine as he sucks in a shaky breath of air. "All ready for you honey." A look of relief washes over the terrapin face. "You going to help me sweetheart?" You ask maneuvering to sit on his lap.

"Yes please." Ever so polite, he takes his large hands and moves them to your waist. He gently massages the plush skin there, his thumbs rubbing back and forth on the dips in your hips.

You take his pulsing length in your hand, the tip covered in precum attempts to push its way in. "Remember, no coming right Raph?" Your boyfriend has to hold back a groan in annoance, too desperate to be patient.

But hes good so he nods and "Yes Raph knows just please I cant do this anymore." You chuckle, almost wanting to reprimand him for being so impatient but let it slide. Instead you slowly push your hips downwards, inching your way down his ccock.

Raphs moan of relief is breathy and content. It takes a minute for you to fully take all of him, no matter the stretching or how many times you do this.

When you get as far down as you can, basically at the base, Raph falls forward a bit. Eyes trained on where you two meet. "Move. Please- need it so bad." His forehead rests on your shoulder, although hes careful not to hurt you with the spikes on his back.

"Yeah? Wanna tell me how bad you need it?" Your tone is teasing, almost playful but with the way your hips slowly start moving up again Raph takes them as a command. "Dont know why Raph agreed to do this" a pause when he feels your pace speed up.

"Thought it'd be easy?" You prompt him, words a bit shaky with each motion of your hips. The grip he has on your waist tightens. "Fuck- yes never want it this bad. Only when Raphs in heat he feels like this."

"Poor baby's never been desperate before." You say it aloud but it's mostly to yourself. Raph nods his head with a whine and squeeze of his hands. The constant red hot pleasure shooting through him with every thirst felt almost unbearable.

From not touching himself in so long it felt almost overstimulating. He bent his legs and twisted his torso in attempt to escape the over whelming feeling. But the way his hips started thrusting upwards into you defied how the rest of him acted.

He was careful of the size difference between you two but that didnt stop the buzzing in him telling him he needed more. It was like a punch to the gut the way his hips rutted upwards into you. "Feels so good- need it so bad." He was mumbling to himself with a slurred voice.

"Raph, thought we agreed no coming" the composure in your tone quickly fading with each thrust of yours and his hips. The terrapin quickly opens his eyes- though he doesn't remember when he closed them- in panic.

"No! No Raph needs it, needs to come." He slightly leans back up from where he was laying down prior to rub his face in your neck. His tounge prods out along with his teeth- always so careful not to bite too hard but he cant deny he likes to leave the marks.

"Hunny you want to lose?" You dont think he quite hears you but nods anyway against your shoulder anyway. Your take his head in your hands, pushing him away from the growing marks, and look him the eyes. You take a minute to breathe and its like he can sense what you were going to say.

"Dont care anymore I just i need it- want it so bad. Fuck- want you so bad!" With every hard thrust with each words brings you closer to that burning heat building in your stomach. "So close please let Raph come."

The words come out with almost a sob of tears from the overwhelming pleasure with no where to go. All it takes is you saying "Yes Raph, come for me." For the terrapin to fall over the edge. The pleasure is everywhere and its burning hot.

Raph curls himself inwards, legs pushing on your back towards his plastron and hands keeping you at the base of his pulsing cock, his hot cum flowing out his tip. The feeling makes you come along with him, your hand finding his shoudler for support.

As you come down from your high you can hear Raphs heavy breathing, more so you can feel it hitting your body. After a moment of silence you speak, "Raph, hunny, you ok?" He nods slowly before humming.

"Are you ok?" That makes you smile sweetly, gently kissing the sides and top of his face. "Yeah I am thank you sweetie." Raph slowly untangled himself from you letting, his body relax out.

You lift yourself up and off of him as his spent dick retreats back into his tail. "Want to run a bath?" Raphs eyes seem foggy but he nods, his large calloused hands continue to gently run up and down your body.

"Ok big guy." You chuckle heartedly, your shaky legs holding you up as you walk to the bathroom that you specifically like because it has one of those large pool like tubs that can fit your terrapin boyfriend.

As you start to run the water you hear raoh find his way to the bathroom and come up behind you. His muscular arms wrapping around your smaller form. He mumbled something you couldn't hear, "What was that Raph?" You question.

"Sorry I failed the challenge." He said slightly louder, resting his head atop yours. Your heart clenched a little at how sad he sounded. "Oh hunny its ok, if im being honest I dont care that much about it. Just wanted to know how long you'd last."

He sighed in what you assumed to be relief. The two of you stayed in content silence together, the only sound was the rushing water steadily filling the large tub.

When it finally became full you turned the water off and let raph slip into the water first, following close behind. The warm water soothed the two of into a blissful state of comfort.

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