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frantic-fiction · 7 months 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 · 11 months 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 · 5 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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fiveht · 9 months ago

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Proof of life (Adore pt 3)

Hello my sweet angel babies ♥️

I'm not going to be able to adequately express my gratitude for the steady stream of love (and concern, sorry) I've been receiving over the past couple of months. I'm so sorry I've been AWOL, it will definitely happen again. Because see, for me, I usually have to make a choice between social and creative fandom participation. My battery is small, and takes a long time to charge.

Thank you to everyone who's left comments and asks and DMs since I've been gone. I don't think I can respond to all of it, but rest assured those messages ping my cold, dead heart every time I see them.

So I'm gonna go out on a limb here. I did this same thing months and months ago, when I was working on Head Over Feet, and let me be clear: posting even a single word of a WIP goes against my every instinct and principle as an author. I am someone who likes to finish an entire story before I post any of it, and on top of that, I am NOT a fast writer, so the expectations that I'm setting up here might not be advisable. But I did it before and managed to finish the thing, and I want to give you guys something in exchange for being so unbelievably awesome, so here I am again.

This will probably be the only time I mention this story in public until it's finished and posted, and inquiries about my progress are unlikely to help with the writing process, I'm just saying. I reserve the right to change every last word of this before the final draft, and I also reserve the right to fall off the face of the planet and simply never finish it, as much as I will strive to prevent that from happening. Please be patient with me.

Anyway, here is my paltry offering to say thanks for the love: the (VERY rough) first ~1300 words of the third instalment of The Adventures of Soft Daddy and Danger Twink.

Sirius secures his handheld shower head to its holder at the edge of his clawfoot tub, and steps out carefully onto the bathmat. He shivers in the cool air outside the shower curtain; it's about twenty degrees below zero outside, so even if he could afford to run his ancient radiator at full blast, it probably wouldn't help much.

He dries himself off and checks his reflection in the mirror, turning his face this way and that as he tugs his hair out of the bun he'd piled it into to keep it dry during his shower. There's no need for makeup tonight, not when he's not even planning to put on clothes.

It's incrementally warmer when he steps out into the main room of his apartment. He gathers an array of splayed text books and notes from his bed and dumps them carelessly onto the couch, then closes his new laptop and places it delicately on the coffee table. It's the most expensive thing he owns, save for the Gucci backpack currently sitting in his wardrobe with a three-inch berth around it like his shoes and other bags might somehow contaminate it. It's weird owning rich-people stuff when you are still, objectively, broke as fuck.

He perches on the edge of his bed and sets his phone to charge, because his battery doesn't even last a day anymore, and he's going to need it this evening. He tucks it in next to his pillow and picks up his new toy.

The plug isn't much larger than the one he already has. A little longer, which is appealing, but no wider, so it shouldn't be a challenge to get it in comfortably. He disconnects it from its charger and hefts it in his hand, feeling the added weight from the electronics inside.

He picks up his phone, and hesitates when he sees the notification waiting for him.

Rieka: let's go out tomorrow

Rieka: the fact that we haven't been drunk since the term started is criminal

Rieka: we've had two chem labs and zero drinks

Sirius purses his lips, thumbs hovering over the keyboard. There's a fine line here, and he hasn't quite found it yet.

Me: got plans

Me: raincheck?

So complete avoidance is the best strategy, right?

Rieka: booooo 👎

He sighs, but at least she's not asking for an explanation. He opens a different conversation then, pushing all thoughts of Rieka Lupin into a tidy, sealed compartment, not to be opened during certain activities with a certain relative of hers.

Me: i'm ready

Me: are you in your office?

Daddy: Yup, I've got a few minutes

Daddy: Want me to call?

Instead of answering, Sirius hits the call button himself.

"Hey baby," Remus answers. His voice is already smooth and honey-sweet, and just from that, Sirius knows he's planning to lay it on thick tonight.

"Hi daddy," Sirius says with a smile. "Should I put it in now?"

There's a low chuckle over the line. "Are we feeling eager?"

"Always," Sirius says, laying back on his bed.

"Use the good lube I got you, it's gonna be in there a while."

He switches the call to speaker, and snags the bottle from his nightstand. "I threw out the old stuff, you've got me ruined for cheap lube."

"Only the best for that ass," Remus says, and Sirius can hear his smirk.

He gives the plug a liberal coating, running his fingers along its shape, his dick twitching just at the feel of the silky-smooth silicone, at the anticipation of what's about to happen. He spreads his legs wide, drawing one knee up to give himself easier access.

"Take it slow," Remus says, succinctly heading off Sirius' impulse to just shove the thing inside himself in one go. "Rub the tip against yourself, so you're nice and wet."

Sirius shuts his eyes as he obeys, sliding the slick end of the toy over his entrance. "Okay."

"Are you going to be a good boy for daddy tonight?"

"Uh-huh," Sirius says, teasing the very tip of the plug in and out of his hole.

"Tell me how."

"I'm not gonna touch."

"You're not gonna touch, and you're not gonna come."

"Yeah," Sirius says. His cock is starting to harden as his body tries to draw the plug inside. "Can I put it in, daddy?"

"Slow," Remus reminds him, "Slide it in nice and slow for me, baby."

Sirius catches his lip between his teeth and tries to push the plug in slowly, the way he knows Remus would do if he was here.

The shower has left him relaxed and more than ready, and it's hard not to take advantage, just press the toy in to its limit because he can. But he's working on his patience -- under Remus' careful tutelage -- so he shuts his eyes and tries to savour it, the tease of the plug's rubber tip at his entrance, the slow stretch as he eases it past the slight resistance before he sighs, and his body eagerly accepts the intrusion.

"Mmmm," Sirius sighs as he settles the base of the plug flush against his entrance, shifting his hips and feeling the constant, dull pressure against his prostate.

"How's it feel?"

"Good," Sirius says, splaying his legs out and just enjoying the pleasant fullness. It's been almost a week since Remus last fucked him, and that's just way too long. Christmas really spoiled him. He tugs the blankets up around him, because it's going to take some time before his body temperature is high enough to fight against the chill in his apartment.

"Have you tried out the settings at all?" Remus asks him, and Sirius picks up the phone, switching off speaker and holding it to his ear.

"No," he says, grinding his ass down against the bed to test the plug's reach inside him. "I thought you'd rather do the honours."

Remus hums, and Sirius hears the phone shifting in his grip. "I'm gonna turn it on, okay? Lowest setting."

"O--" Sirius stutters as the plug buzzes to life inside him, nestled snug against his prostate and sending little zings of pleasure down his legs. "Fuck that feels good. That's the lowest setting?"

"It is," Remus confirms. "Want to run through them all, see how high it goes? Or would you rather be surprised?"

"Mmmm, surprise me."

"Surprise it is," Remus says, and Sirius hears shuffling papers in the background as he prepares for his night class. Psychology 1001, Thursdays, 7-9:30PM. Two and a half hours of a lecture that Remus swears he's given so many times he could recite it in his sleep, so why not give himself something fun to focus on while he goes through the motions?

Being privy to all of this brilliant, upstanding man's secret perversions is a privilege Sirius does not take lightly.

"You can turn it off from the app if you need to," Remus is saying, "Or you can call me and I'll switch it off. My phone's on vibrate, so I'll see it right away."

Sirius smiles to himself. "Got it," he says, though this is a rehashing of the rules that Remus had laid out when he'd brought the plug over last weekend. He'd called it a "late Christmas gift", as if he hadn't already given Sirius several thousand dollars worth of presents on Christmas morning.

There's more rustling over the line, the squeak of a chair.

"Tell me again how you're going to be good tonight."

"I'm not gonna touch myself, and I'm not gonna come." The toy is still buzzing away inside him, making everything a little fuzzy at the edges.

"Tell me why."

"'Cause daddy's in charge, even when he's not here."

"Good boy."

Sirius squirms with pleasure, his cock smearing a little drop of fluid on his belly as the toy hums insistently at his prostate.

"I have to head out," Remus says. "How do you feel?"

"Good," Sirius says, his abs tensing as he shifts his legs and the angle of the toy changes. "Excited."

"Me too," Remus says softly. "I'll talk to you soon, beautiful. Send me some pictures." With a low beep, the call disconnects.

#and i disappear into the night once again #turned off anon asks for the time being #sorry i love you guys i'm just awkward

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phan3145 · 2 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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allthornsnopetals · 4 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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fandoms-are-my-friends-1321 · 6 months ago

Text

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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fqrcefields · 1 month 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 · 3 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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guppybibi · 5 months ago

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how they react to artist!reader

✧┊ft: akaashi keiji & kōtarō bokuto

❁ཻུ۪۪♡

❥ akaashi keiji

- thinks everything that you make is an absolute masterpiece, but if you do ask him for critique prepare yourself for his blunt honesty.

- though it isn't obvious from his stoic face, he goes into overthinking mode whenever you ask him for suggestions.

- hurting someone's feelings because he said something wrong is the last thing he wants.

- if you wanted to do some sort of art challenge with him he'll happily comply. i think he'd be pretty good at arts, not the best but definitely not the worst.

- when you compare each other's works, he always lets out a laugh when he sees how much of a downgrade his work is.

“Alright, I’m done! How ‘bout you, Keiji?” You giggle, holding the canvas against your chest secretively. Snooping was for sure, not allowed! “Just a few more finishing touches.” He mumbles, painting a few more brush strokes. His eyes full of pure concentration, laser focused on the piece he was making.

After a few extra minutes of waiting for Akaashi to finish, he places the paintbrush down on the small coffee table. “Okay, on the count of 3! 1, 2, 3!” You counted down, excitedly flipping over your canvas once the count ends. Keiji follows and does the same, both of your paintings being revealed at the same time.

An amazed look comes up on your face, nodding approvingly as you look at Akaashi’s piece. “Wow Keiji! Your art is improving, I see you're following my tips!” You compliment, your eyes filled to the brim with awe. “Yes, I’ve been putting your suggestions into mind. But my work is nothing compared to yours. It's wonderful as usual and expected.” He admired, adoring your creation.

“Well, I don't really care about whose work is better right now. We spent time together, considering your busy schedule, I’m really grateful.” You spoke softly, fingers fiddling around with the bristles of a random paintbrush as a content smile made its way to your lips.

❥ kōtarō bokuto

- basically obsesses over everything you make, it can be a work in progress or a literal fail yet he still has a compliment to say about it.

- a walking ego boost for you to be honest.

- not..the best in arts. though overtime as he practices with you, he's gotten better! practice makes perfect after all. so if you want someone to draw around with, he's just one call away!

“Y/N, I’m done! I’m sure I’ve outdone myself this time yet again, I’m not only an ace in volleyball but in drawing as well!” He brags, his confidence overflowing. While you just laugh in response, still focusing on putting the finishing touches. “I’m sure it's gonna be great Boku, you've been improving recently.” You comment, at this point you were sure his head was growing bigger from the amount of compliments he was receiving..

He patiently waited for you to finish, not rushing you as he started to chat about random things. Like how Keiji won't wear the t-shirts he suggests even though he has worn equally weird t-shirts before and whatnot. You chuckle, despite being pretty stoic; Keiji was probably evenly as weird as Bokuto. Once you are satisfied with your work, you place the pen back to its designated spot. Crossing your legs as you held the sketchbook close to you, you looked up to Bokuto with a smirk.

“Ya ready?” You ask, which you immediately get a nod in reply. After a countdown, the both of you flip your sketchbooks and show each other your work. It took you a moment to realize what who Bokuto drew, it was you in a meadow. It wasn't the best piece in the world, but to you it felt like it surpassed even the Starry Night. “Woah..you're right. You did outdo yourself this time..”

“Of course! An ace like me never fails to disappoint.” He boasts proudly with a grin, throwing the sketchbook aside and pulling you in for a hug..

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undreaming-fanfiction · 2 years ago

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Steve Harrington never thought he'd become passionate about photography, but here he was, crouching with a camera in the bushes, slowly waiting for the sun to set.

It was kind of funny - first he was a grade A douchebag in high school, then he got his girlfriend kind of rightfully stolen by Jonathan Byers, but instead of going deeper in to the asshole territory, he really tried to be better. One part of that was hanging out with Nancy and Jonathan sometimes, just drinking, joking and marvelling at how he got two good friends out of a shitty situation.

Jonathan asked him to snap a picture of him and Nancy to send to his mom when the four of them, his best friend Robin included, visited a local fair, and walked him through the very dumbed down basics - how to choose the angle, keep the picture sharp, composition, all of that.

And Steve fell in love.

He started observing Jonathan when he was working, snapping pictures for the local newspaper. And Jonathan was so patient with him, always commenting on what he was doing, even waiting for Steve to take notes.

On his next birthday, Robin, Nancy and Jonathan got him his first camera.

Finally free of his high school persona, Steve began feeling much more at ease just observing, not participating. Unlike Jonathan who found beauty in people and social interactions, Steve decided to focus on the nature.

Several years later, he was a wildlife photographer and he loved his job. He loved the challenge, the wait, the best shots and the worst ones too, with blurry curious animals nibbling on his hair or his shorts.

He was still trying to get out of his comfort zone, always challenging himself. And today, the subject of his shoot were bats, mysterious, misunderstood and absolutely cute.

Steve readied his camera at the flapping of wings. Slow. Patient. Don't rush it.

Two hours in, he was convinced that there was no more adorable thing in this world than a yawning bat. He was about to finish for the night and go home, take a hot shower, but one of the bats was making the cutest poses, almost...winking? Steve couldn't stop taking more and more shots.

He had no idea how it happened, but there was a quiet whoosh and where the bat was, suddenly a slim, pale man stood, with wild long hair and a seductive grin. Also, he was naked. Yep.

"No need to hide. If you wanted a picture, all you had to do was ask, pretty boy," the man said and approached Steve, flashing him a grin...a grin with very sharp, white canines.

Instead of something logical, like running away or fainting, Steve licked his lips and raised his camera. "Um. Consider this me asking?"

The man - Eddie, as he later introduced himself - stared at him blankly, then started laughing and Steve joined him, too loud in the quiet of the night.

In the morning, Steve found himself in a warm bed, with a memory card full of very marketable bat pictures and some private ones too, for his eyes only.

As Eddie nuzzled against his neck and the two tiny wounds there, Steve thought that yep, he definitely loved his job.

#steddie #steddie au #eddie munson #steve harrington #vampire eddie munson #stranger things au #stranger things drabble #steddie drabble #jonathan byers #nancy wheeler #also in this AU Steve really was a bit of an asshole #and no unsolicited pictures of Nancy and Steve were taken in this modern au

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sashi-ya · 1 year ago

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𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟐𝟑 DAY 14: BONDAGE Trafalgar Law 𝘹 F! 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

Requested by: @valval08 ➡ Hi @sashi-ya YESSSSSS IM AO EXCITED TO KINK-TOBER!!!! If it is not already taken. Can I please request Law x Female Reader with print number 14 leather straps / bondage. Can the reader be a brat and trying to distract Law from his work as a challenge. So she will send subtle messages. Cause we all know that man needs a break lols 😂 tw: mdni. can be considered part 2 of day 12 . tied with his belts to a chair. fingered while he has a video call. spanks. oral sex. rough sex. name calling. wc: ~2k 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

That night, when the car turned into your love nest, ended with both of you absolutely tired. A lot more than before.

However, work should be done the next day. So, Law, woke up and turned on the computer. At the moment, he was taking some time off from hospital, so he only arranged videocalls to chat with patients and be able to do a follow-up on their states after cardiac surgery.

You wake up, with your body a little sore. It was easier when younger, even if you are sure Law would have left you in the same state either way.

From his room you hear him chatting with someone, and soon remember it must be one of his patients. Yet, the little giggles of such patient were making you a total mess. You get it, Law is absolutely handsome. His dark aura, how intelligent and amazing surgeon that he is, the sound of his low voice, his silver eyes and those tattoos that antagonize with the stereotypical look of a respected doctor… he is by far different. He is more than attractive…

Would it be bad to pass walking right behind him? To show the giggling patient that indeed a man that hot is already taken?

By the time you ponder how mad he could get, you are already walking by covered in his white sheets, wearing just satin shorts underneath. You act surprised when you see the camera, so do a little jump, cover your mouth with your hand, and run away -not before looking at the camera for the stupid patient to see your “do not come any closer to my man or you will perish” look.

Law opens his eyes wide, and his cheeks turn bright red. His caramel skin does very little to cover his embarrassment. And you are trying not to laugh, as you sit down in the kitchen to look at him while he -tries to- keeps working.

The sheets that were covering are now thrown over the couch, and your bare chest flashes on the corner of his eye.

You calmly open a bottle of water -it was needed- and drink calmly as you listen him ask, now a little out of himself, medical question to his patients.

In between patient and patient, who Law seems to asses quick enough to get rid of them all in less than an hour, he scolds you.

“(Name)-ya?! It wasn’t necessary! Why- why are you half naked?” he asks, as if he wasn’t hard already from the “accident” you just had with the bottle of water and the drops of cold one drizzled on your breasts.

“I didn’t know- you could have woke me up. I was thirsty, I wanted water and I could only find out at the kitchen… I’m sorry ~” you purr a fake excuse, while trying to dry the drops on your skin playing so nonchalantly with your nipples.

“I can’t fuck you right now, I still have two patients left” he grunts, crossing his long legs. It’s obvious he is dying to penetrate you right there and now.

“I wasn’t asking for it, please finish your work… I will just eat a banana for breakfast and then get into the shower. Go on...” you smirk, peeling one of the fruits over the kitchen table.

Law closes his eyes, and his dark circles intensify. His “painful” expression can be interpretated as, one; he is worried for the integrity of his dick, or two; he is hating that last patient before he could be free to fuck you rough, or ultimate the number three: option one and two together.

As he sits back down in front of his laptop and waits for the next video conference, you begin eating the banana… well, eating it’s just a bad way to explain what you were doing to that poor potassium fountain… As if he was his dick, you tempt him while enjoying your sweet breakfast.

You can see his leg anxiously bouncing under the desk, and his hand trying to stop you with desperate shaking. You, however, won’t stop. If you can turn him on to the point of not be able to do anything else but fuck you, you will. No matter what.

And by the moment he finally bids goodbye to that poor old man, whose heart has been patched up by Law several times, he closes the laptop in violent motion.

Law stands up, an aura of invisible fire surrounds him. He is mad, and horny and tired but needy.

“You little shit, come here” he grunts, grabbing you by the hand and pulling for you to stand up.

You laugh and choke with the last piece of banana, but immediately stop even breathing. Law gets his lips closer to yours, almost grazing them. And pulls you towards him, mercilessly.

“You brat, If you are that eager to choke, don’t do it now… choke with my dick instead when I’m done” he growls, softly slapping one of your breasts and then sitting you back down.

You widen your eyes. Law can be rougher; it’s just about pushing the right buttons… And while you expect for him to lower his pants down, he simply orders you to wait sitting there. You fidget your fingers, what is he doing?

A couple of minutes pass and then you see him coming from his bedroom with various belts in his hands and perverse smirk.

“Uh… Law? What are those for?” you ask, worried -not really-

“You can’t keep yourself still, therefore I need to tie you down until I’m done with my last patient” he calmly informs you, while expertly joining to belts to make a longer one.

You smile, excited. But are you sure this is gonna be a soft bondage attempt?

“Turn around, kneel on the chair” he commands, pulling from your hair to “help” you.

You gasp, you are in awe… this is a first time, even for you.

Law proceeds to lower your silky satin shorts down, enough to uncover your core. The shorts get stuck at your knees’ height, and he seems pleased with it.

“Spread your legs, now” he commands, carving his nails in the inner side of your thigs.

You do, thinking of the bruises that will appear on the sides of your legs as the arm rests engrave in your skin.

Your feet hang down, and your ankles quickly feel the cold surface of his leather belts securing them to the chair’s arm rests support.

Law then surround the chair to watch your both confused and amazed façade.

“Your hands. Pass them in between the open spaces of the splat” he orders, pulling from them to tie your wrists together with the belt.

You allow him to move and position as he pleases, as his personal doll. However, you are still confused by the fact there is yet another patient he needs to attend. Did that person cancelled the videocall? Or what is he planning to do?

“Law… wha- what about your last patient?” you ask, but he definitely stays quiet. And suddenly you sense him pulling from the chair until you are left right next to his desk.

“I told you that I had to keep you still somehow, and this, I think, is the best way. If you dare to make any sound while I’m on the videocall, I will leave you there for the rest of the day without fucking you” he informs you. Law isn’t playing, and you wonder if he has always been that kind of sadist. In any case, you are excited to see what’s next -and how to stay silent all throughout the videocall-

You nod and wait.

He sits down, moves the laptop to the side so that the camera won’t be facing you in any way, and proceeds to wait for his patient. He seems to ignore you, until his arm stretches, and his index begins to play with the wetness of your labia. Now you understand why you should keep yourself quiet.

Law seems to be unbothered while he finally starts the consultation with his patient. It is a woman, who seems to be also flirting with him. Your toes curl and imagine in pure jealousy how she might be fluttering her eyelashes to him… however, as if nothing happened, in angle that couldn’t be seen in the web cam, the one being fingered by Law was no other woman but you.

You bite your lip, trying not to moan. Your eyes shut close, praying for the outside noise cancelling microphone would cover your low whimpers when he uses the perfect beckoning motions on you.

All of a sudden, Law laughs with his patient and takes his fingers out of you. You are dying to moan louder, to mark some territory. But you remember his words… staying there all day and above all not getting fucked is enough punishment not to disobey him.

As he has stopped touching you, you keep dripping unstoppable strings of pleasure. Imagery that Law checks in quick side looks towards you. He is probably wanting to end with the meeting as soon as possible… but maybe not. Maybe leaving you needy, as you did with him, sounds better.

Your breasts are squeezed against the backrest of the chair, and with subtle up and down motions you try to reach for some pleasure by grazing them with it. But nothing seems to be enough… you really want Law’s dick inside one of your holes.

When you finally listen to the words “You are doing great, Miss Hancock. I will need you to come to my office next month. Send my salutes to your husband, Luffy” you smirk… now, the moment he closes his laptop, he will be all yours…

Or rather you, will be all his.

“Look at the mess you made, (Name)-ya…” he grunts, giving you a spank on your ass.

You flinch but moan out of pleasure. It felt unexpectedly hot to be slapped so suddenly.

“Will you fuck me now, Law ~? I kept it quiet and still…” you purr, proud of your submissive behaviour.

Law scoffs, standing right in front of you. His pants fall to the ground, and his hard dick flashes its erection close to your lips.

“Not yet, I promise you to choke first. You were hungry, weren’t you?” he smirks, grabbing you by the hair to guide your mouth to his throbbing tip.

You gag, choking as he said with his sex reaching your throat. He is punishing you with deep thrusts, using your mouth until he is satisfied with the tears running from the corner of your eyes to your cheeks.

You fight against your muscles turning weak, and you keep taking his hardness in your mouth like his good girl. Proud surgeon, he felt, to see you looking up at him while getting “orally” abused.

Satisfied with your noises and strings of saliva sprouting from the commissures of your lips, he finally lets you breath and positions at your back.

“Now, (Name)-ya… you deserve to be fucked” he moans in your ear, after bending over your back while grazing your entrance with his saliva coated dick.

“F… fuck me, please… Law… my knees…” you plead, with your knees already in pain from holding your weight, but eager to get penetrated by his extra horny self.

He carves his fingers on your left ass cheek, pulling up and to the side to spread you enough for him to go deep. He guides his sex with his free hand, and his goatee graces your nape. “Get ready to be wrecked. You played too much with me, and I’m specially hard in the mornings”

You tremble, his voice right in your ear… his scent, the weight of his body on yours, how open you are, the tip slipping inside…

“Fuck, Law!!” you whine louder than ever, and now that he is inside you his hand lands on your mouth. Slipping his thumb on your mouth as he starts to pound, violently, hard, mercilessly…

“Be a good girl and take it well… I hope this is what you were looking for…” “I… it… is even better, Law ~”

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holdmymallowsweet · 3 months ago

Text

What are you doing here? 04

Ominis Gaunt x f!MC Word count: 5584, properly tagged on AO3

Chapter summary: The promised second meeting at the library never happened. But something else would.

a/n: I’m sorry this is out later than I’d said it would be, but I’ve been struggling with this chapter for what feels like an eternity. That said, I think I’ve managed to finally write it in a way that feels right to me, I hope it does for you too. And many thanks to everyone who’s been waiting patiently and left me sweet, encouraging comments, it really means a lot to me!

Warnings: this is the scriptorium chapter, so there’s torture, panic attacks and just a lot of angst in general

Chapter 03 || Masterlist || Chapter 05

Chapter 04 - From out the dark door

“I can’t agree, and I’ll not say a word more. I’m sorry.” Ominis left the great Hall before Sebastian could finish his answer. He was tired of arguing, and this was not something he liked to discuss just out of earshot of their classmates having lunch.

They didn’t have any more classes today, but he still decided to head back to the Defence Against the Dark Arts tower. He loved Sebastian like a brother, but right now, he cursed having no place to go to get away from him.

They shared a common room and dormitory, the Undercroft felt more like Sebastian’s secret hideout than his own lately, and the only place Ominis cared to call home- other than Hogwarts- was Sebastian’s bloody house.

Finding a place to be that didn’t allow Sebastian to corner him and inquire about the scriptorium again was becoming a challenge, and so far the best solution he’d come up with was to hide in plain sight- of curious onlookers, that was, because for all his faults, at least Sebastian cared about being secretive.

If he’d been an impartial observer, he might have found it funny, in the saddest way possible.

Ominis had been so annoyed with Sebastian’s odd fascination with the new fifth year, and now that he’d finally given in and admitted to himself that he could understand the appeal, and even made a first tentative step towards some sort of friendship, the damned scriptorium had replaced her as the topic that inevitably came up whenever they had a conversation, threatening to rip his and Sebastian’s friendship apart at the seams.

Was that it? Had he been granted four years of borrowed happiness, which he’d now have to return like a stack of overdue books from the library? A brief respite, rather than a release, and after losing Anne, Sebastian and eventually Hogwarts, he’d find himself standing in his room at Gaunt Manor again, the house elves and the screams his only company. If he was lucky.

Perhaps this was a form of divine punishment. For thinking he could pretend to lead an ordinary life, for hoping he could leave what had happened at his family’s home there.

It was a relief to feel the cold autumn air on his face as he pushed the doors of the entrance hall open. A soft breeze brought the smell of the lake and pumpkins with it, and he inhaled deeply, as if it was his last breath on earth.

Ominis loved the time around Halloween, or at least he used to, as the stabbing pain in his heart reminded him. He’d spent this time last year with a healthy Anne and a cheerful Sebastian whom he could actually stand to be around. Who wouldn’t constantly pester him about his family’s secrets, bringing back fears he had previously locked away. If only he could throw away the key.

The walk in the fresh air unfortunately gave him plenty of time to cast his mind back to the circumstances leading up to their most recent argument.

“Have you ever read anything about a ‘scriptorium’? A secret study of Salazar Slytherin’s?”

If his father’s letter hadn’t mentioned it in the same sentence as Noctua’s name, he wouldn’t have asked. He’d been thinking with his heart, not his mind. And if he could have guessed the effect this simple question had on Sebastian, he would have let it go up in flames, along with the letter.

The second it had slipped out, it had taken root in Sebastians mind, growing into an obsession, and that’s when the constant nagging and questioning had begun.

“A ‘scriptorium’? Do you know where it is? Any idea what could be in there?”

“I know it might be full of dark magic, but Anne was cursed by dark magic, so we might find out what happened to her and reverse it.”

“If it looks dangerous, we could just leave. If it’s protected by powerful dark magic, or something else, we might not even get in there but we should at least try. Don’t you want to help Anne?”

“Do you think I can’t be responsible with what we might find? Don’t you trust me? Is that it?”

Ominis wouldn’t budge. Of course he wanted to help Anne. Of course he trusted Sebastian, or at least he thought he did. But the more Sebastian pushed for it, the more Ominis recoiled from the very idea.

Sebastian didn’t know what they were like, not really.

The Slytherins. The Gaunts.

Sebastian didn’t have to grow up with them, hadn’t experienced how cruel and entitled they were, how convinced it was their birthright to mistreat and abuse anyone they perceived to be beneath them because in their inbred minds, their ancestry made them inherently superior.

But Ominis knew. He’d heard it countless times from their own mouths and from the portraits of his ancestors that lined the walls of his family home, how their views of blood purity and status were passed down by generations of like minded fanatics like grotesque heirlooms, originating from Salazar Slytherin himself.

And he shuddered to think what else they might have in common, a complete disregard for any and all kindness and compassion, a proclivity for casual cruelty, revelling in violence, even towards their own flesh and blood-

His chest tightened uncomfortably at the thought. He’d felt it, until it was etched into his very bones, and it was his duty to protect Sebastian from it.

If those traits originated from Salazar Slytherin as well, there was no telling what might lie in wait for them, what price they’d have to pay for the dubious honour of gaining access to his ancestors' secrets. He was not likely to experience Slytherin’s hospitality merely because he was a descendant- only one in his family had ever thought differently, but he couldn’t bring himself to hope she was right.

Ominis shuddered and took another deep breath. If he kept dwelling on it, he knew what he would hear at night, after he fell asleep.

As much as he’d appreciated the fresh air just a few moments ago, he was glad to enter the warmth of the Defence tower. Perhaps wandering around a bit, listening to the others' idle chit chat and the soothing sounds of the string quartet would help take his mind of Sebastian and the blasted scriptorium- and perhaps he secretly hoped he’d recognise the footsteps of a certain new classmate that occupied many of his thoughts lately.

Perhaps he’d compliment her on her latest performance in Crossed Wands and get a small laugh or a “thank you” in return, and if she wasn’t too busy, she might even stop for a brief conversation.

And perhaps then he might have some nice dreams tonight after all.

She hadn’t come to the Defence Against the Dark Arts tower that day.

In hindsight, Ominis wasn’t sure what he’d expected, considering they hadn’t had a real conversation since that day in the library. It had been only a few days later when Sebastian had started to press the matter of the scriptorium, and now that he was avoiding his best friend it felt wrong to reach out to her instead. After all, wanting to repair his friendship with Sebastian was the only reason he’d wanted to get to know her in the first place.

As for her, she was as busy as ever, always running around, being everyone’s favourite errant girl, trying to keep up with her schoolwork on top of everything else she was up to. It was hard to imagine she’d somehow long for his company.

Merlin, if he were told she simply had no time for him, he’d believe it in a heartbeat. And why should she try to squeeze him into her already absurdly packed schedule? To her, Ominis was at best a friend of a friend. And perhaps soon not even that, if Sebastian didn’t change his tune.

And so the promised second attempt at a study session had been quietly forgotten, postponed indefinitely.

Perhaps it was for the best.

Between Anne not getting better and Sebastian’s constant nagging about the Scriptorium, not to mention his friend coming back from his latest visit to Feldcroft in a very strange and secretive mood, it had been easier to be by himself. It gave him time to sort out his thoughts and feelings, without the added stress and worries a new friendship would bring.

Especially with her.

And their last meeting had more or less accomplished what he’d wanted- they’d established that there was no animosity between them, that they could engage in polite conversation if need be.

Or perhaps that was what he wanted to believe, because it made the loneliness easier to bear.

Ominis was sitting in the Slytherin common room, the evening of the day after their argument in the great hall, and if Sebastian wouldn’t be standing there, asking about the scriptorium yet again, he would have been working on the essay about common uses for the Edurus potion Professor Sharp was expecting them to hand in tomorrow.

“You don’t have to come with me. Just tell me where the entrance is, I’ll figure everything else out by myself. Please, Ominis, for Anne.”

The desperation in his voice made listening almost unbearable.

“The answer is still no, Sebastian. You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into. We talked about this earlier today, and yesterday, and the day before- I’m tired of trying to reason with you. I’m tired of everything.” Ominis responded, pleading, knowing that his expression and the way he held his head in his hands gave away just how much Sebastian was wearing him down.

And of course, ever the opportunist, Sebastian didn’t miss his chance to strike. “Then tell me- just tell me and I’ll leave you alone,” Sebastian urged him.

“Sebastian-”

“I told you, I won’t give up.”

“Oh for Merlin’s sake, leave it be,” Ominis hissed angrily. He stood up, not caring that he tipped over his inkwell in the process, ruining his half-finished homework.

Sebastian was left behind as Ominis fled the common room, calling his name and no doubt vexed at his supposed best friend’s reaction, but Ominis didn’t have it in him to care. The only thing he cared about at the moment was to get away, to find some respite and peace and not feel like he was suffocating.

He hurried through the corridors, not paying attention to where he went beyond making sure not to run into anything or anyone. His tired headache, gratefully dormant since the library, reared its ugly head again. Perhaps someday, it would be his permanent companion. Perhaps his only one.

Finally he stopped, pocketed his wand and took a deep breath. Pacing had always been his favourite way to clear his mind.

Listening to the sound of his steps on the floor, reverberating through the empty passage, the dulled distant chatter of the other students, it did wonders to calm him down.

Breathing in the cool air of the dungeons, he could faintly make out the smell of Black Lake, even through the thick stone, although that might have been his imagination.

Ominis didn’t know how much time had passed when he distantly heard a second pair of footsteps keep his own company. Only they were faster, not hurried, but excited, eager. And familiar.

“What are you doing here?” he asked wearily.

“Hello, Ominis. Do you have a moment?” she asked, her voice playful and melodic, as usual.

Ominis wasn’t sure if he should be glad or angry that she’d approached him now, and here, of all places. More importantly, he didn’t know why. He would have liked to hope that she’d make for a welcome distraction, but then again- “What is it? What have you and Sebastian been up to now?”

“I owe you an apology, Ominis. I wasn’t honest with you before about the Undercroft. Sebastian did show it to me.”

Oh.

In truth, he had long since ceased to care, because he’d finally realised that she’d never been the problem to begin with. It had been Sebastian who had changed, slowly at first, but perceptibly and her being there or not wouldn’t have made any difference.

They hadn’t even spent as much time together as Ominis had first thought, although that made their apparent closeness even stranger.

“He wanted me to have a safe place to practise some spells – to try and catch up to the other fifth-years. He didn’t think you’d mind.”

Genuinely apologetic, with a sweetness in her voice, one he heard before, but never when she’d spoken to him. Did she think this was why he’d kept his distance, why he’d not been more openly friendly towards her, even after their little chat in the library? Because he was the one waiting for an apology?

Well, at least it had finally come up, he might as well lay it to rest. And it wouldn’t be right to still let her think she’d wronged him somehow, when he himself had long let go of that particular grudge.

Ominis sighed. “I suppose that makes sense. It’s just – Sebastian’s been pestering me lately about something and I’m frustrated with him.”

“Don’t tell me he’s still going on about – what was it – a ‘scriptorium’?”

“Dark, ominous corridors. My favourite.”

Ominis groaned. “No comment.”

“Come on, that was a good one.”

Somewhere behind them, she laughed. At least she was having fun.

The moment she’d mentioned the scriptorium, he’d known she hadn’t really sought him out to apologise about the Undercroft, and it hadn’t been hard to guess what she- or rather, Sebastian- had hoped to get out of the conversation instead.

And yet, he’d agreed to it in the end. He wasn’t stupid, he knew how she’d done it.

“You don’t know that history will repeat itself. Besides, you said your aunt thought like you. This could honour her memory- get you answers about Slytherin, and Sebastian answers for Anne. Your aunt pursued this alone. We could do it together.”

It seemed he was entirely unable to think clearly as soon as Aunt Noctua entered the equation.

He hoped she was right. He wanted to believe her, desperately. But whatever they’d find, whatever was waiting for them- he was still convinced it couldn’t be anything good. The sort of help Anne wouldn’t want, or worse.

If he was honest with himself, he’d rather they found nothing at all. A room with an empty desk and books too old and mouldy to still be legible.

… But at least it would be over. Sebastian’s curiosity would finally be satisfied, perhaps they could go back to how they were before. Perhaps he could find out what happened to Aunt Noctua, traces of it, at least.

Did he really want to?

The creeping sense of dread he’d felt since the stone entryway let them in intensified. He’d hoped it would be a fleeting sensation, but it seemed to spread, starting at his neck and slowly shrouding his entire body. He tried to take deep, calming breaths, but the stale and ancient air made it worse. Now he could feel it on the inside.

Her footsteps behind him drew nearer, he felt her brush ever so slightly against his arm as she walked past. It was a small comfort. She was the one everyone turned to, the one who got things done. And given Sebastian’s fondness for her, her presence might keep him from doing anything too foolish or reckless, perhaps.

They found themselves in a corridor, pieces of stone and rubble scraping along the edges of his shoes as he carefully walked through, and he wondered if the ceiling or the wall had broken down over time, or what it was that scurried almost inaudibly along the floor-

Rats, probably.

“Looks like a locked door. We may want to look around,” Sebastian announced.

Of course, she was the first to find anything.

“A journal entry. Signed by Noctua Gaunt.”

He’d known. He’d known she’d been here, he’d hoped they’d find traces of her, but he hadn’t anticipated the rush of emotions, the dread and the sorrow and the relief that came with it.

“Gaunt? Ominis- your family was here,” Sebastian said excitedly.

“I know. She was my aunt.” It wasn’t enough to convey how much she meant to him- he wanted Sebastian and her to know, but speaking of her in the past tense brought more grief with it than he was willing to deal with right now.

“You knew? And didn’t tell me?”

Ominis ignored the accusation- he’d ignored Sebastian a lot lately. When had it started? With the scriptorium, or before? And more importantly, why didn’t he feel as guilty about it as he should?

“Ominis- the journal mentions many challenges ahead,” she chimed in, saving him from owing Sebastian an answer.

Ominis frowned. “That’s why I said this could be dangerous. Aunt Noctua kept my father informed until she vanished.”

He held onto his wand, trying to sense what he could while leaving the search for clues up to the two of them. Hands kept tightly to himself, fighting against the instinct to run them over the locked door.

Thoughtlessly touching, feeling around places and objects associated with Dark Magic was a good way to lose a hand or worse. It was a lesson he’d been taught early in life, the reason he’d always been banned from entering his father’s study, why he’d scarcely been allowed to wander around the house without one of the House Elves keeping an eye on him.

He knew he wouldn’t be of much use, staying out of their way was the best help he could offer. So he waited for them, patiently, the massive doorway looming behind him. ‘Ominously’, as Sebastian would put it. The corners of his mouth twitched. In spite of their circumstances, he almost made himself laugh.

It lasted right until they’d repaired the relief on the wall.

“Speak to me”

For a second, he thought he’d imagined it. He wanted to.

“The rubble formed a relief of a person facing a snake,” Sebastian said.

Ominis knew it was for his benefit, a habit Sebastian developed sometime during their years of friendship. It should feel comforting that he maintained it even now, it should-

“Speak to me”

-but the voice kept every other emotion away. Every one except fear.

“That must be the voice I hear.” He’d answered without thinking.

It felt as if someone had cast a freezing charm on his spine. Laced with malice, demanding and yet so cold and languid, the parseltongue whispers seemed to slither right under his skin, seeping into the memories within.

He’d already heard too much of it, enough to last him a lifetime and more. Naturally, being ever so proud of their special ‘gift’, the Gaunts hardly ever bothered to speak in English when they were amongst themselves, unless it was to address the House Elf.

“Speak to me”

“You hear a voice?” she asked cautiously, stepping closer.

He had the sudden urge to take a step back in turn, to put more distance between them. Her proximity suddenly made him feel uneasy. “It started when you repaired that relief. I hear a whisper saying ‘speak to me’.”

The uneasy feeling intensified, and he finally noticed what it was.

Fear of rejection, again. Fear that she would look at him differently, just as he had started to open up to her. Parseltongue sounded eerie, inhuman. It wasn’t how he wanted her to think of him.

Aunt Noctua had urged him to be cautious about showing it off; it had lost her a friendship, once. He knew his brother made use of it to intimidate the muggleborns. He remembered the vivid, gleeful descriptions of the fear in their eyes, even if he could never quite grasp what it meant.

Sebastian and Anne were kind enough when he told them.

“It’s all right, don’t worry about it”

“Of course that doesn’t mean you’re bad”

They’re his friends, what else were they going to say? He’d never spoken it in front of them, even when they’d asked.

“Speak to me”

But it was too late to turn around now. Sebastian wouldn’t agree to leave because Ominis was afraid the girl in front of him would recoil in horror once he started hissing.

“I’m a Parselmouth.” His voice cracked slightly from nerves. “I can hear and speak to snakes. Nearly all known Parselmouths are descended from Salazar Slytherin.”

“I wish I could talk to snakes,” she said excitedly.

Oh, that was sweet of her to say. Thoughtless, but sweet.

“You might not want the ability to speak Parseltongue. It’s often associated with Dark wizards. I haven’t spoken it in ages, but I’d wager if I speak it now, the door will open.” Ominis paused. “I’m hoping you’re having second thoughts.”

“Speak to me”

“Believe me, I am having thoughts-”

He didn’t.

“-but I’m still convinced we should go ahead,” she said, perhaps slightly apprehensive, but still confident.

“It’s ironic. When I left home, I vowed to leave the Dark Arts behind, and yet, here I am. Stand back.” He swallowed, but it didn’t get rid of the lump in his throat. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

Once he’d hoped that if only he stopped speaking Parseltongue, it would eventually make him lose the ability entirely. But as if to taunt him, the magical language flowed through his lips as naturally as breathing.

“I’m speaking to you,” Ominis hissed impassively. He’d never be rid of it.

It likely didn’t matter what he said, as long as it was in Parseltongue and therefore proved his descent from the Hogwarts founder. And he’d rather bite his own tongue off than make any sort of grand, pompous statement.

The metallic, slithering noises coming from the door's locking mechanism proved him right.

“It worked! Ominis, you have a rare ability indeed.” There was something in her breathy, melodic voice bordering on reverence, and it rendered him speechless for a moment. He wasn’t sure how to reply-

Thank you?

You’re certain you don’t mind?

“Between the two of you, I’m starting to feel left out,” Sebastian chimed in, trying his best to sound light-hearted, but there was an unmistakable tinge of jealousy in his remark.

“Between the two of us?”

“I- nevermind.”

…Sebastian felt left out, why, because she’d offered him a compliment? A few weeks ago in the Undercroft, he’d told Ominis he wanted the three of them to be friends, but now that they were actually getting along, he was jealous?

So much for ‘You know it’s not like that’.

Ominis tried not to let it get to him, as they continued their way through the maze-like corridors. The two of them eagerly figured out how to proceed, she was the one fiddling with the contraptions that opened the gates, letting them find their way deeper into the entrails beneath the castle.

Bizarrely, it felt easier to breathe now. Once this was over, could it always be like this? The three of them together, with no more secrecy and lies in between?

“Another dial solved!” she announced proudly.

In spite of himself, his face softened. “Nice work.”

She didn’t answer, but he could have sworn she had a spring in her step when she hurried towards the next gate. She found more notes from his aunt, summarising each one instead of reading them aloud in their entirety.

It should have annoyed him, but in a way, he was thankful. Noctua’s last thoughts and feelings, as much as he didn’t mind the two of them knowing, he wanted to read them by himself. Somewhere he wouldn’t feel embarrassed if they made him cry.

He’d ask her for the notes later, once they were done here. Surely she would understand.

More puzzles, more notes, more of Sebastian’s lighthearted quips that felt so wrong and yet so reassuring in these sinister depths.

Another gate, and his heart beat faster, his hand felt clammy around his wand. Next to him, he heard her steady breaths. The faint smell of blood from when she hadn’t been quick enough with one of the dials still hung in the air. Ominis knew they must be getting close now.

Sebastian was the one who confirmed it. “I spotted something ahead. Looks troubling.”

“This whole place is troubling, but for my aunt’s sake, we cannot stop now.”

His words would still haunt him hours later.

“You and Sebastian will need to sort out another solution.” He expected her to shout at him, to cry like he wanted to, begging him to reconsider.

They both knew there was no other solution.

But he couldn’t do it, even if he wanted to- no, that’s where the issue lay, he could never bring himself to want it again.

There was no shouting, no begging as she walked back to Sebastian. Perhaps she hadn’t yet realised what his refusal meant for her.

And for their budding friendship as well. Minutes ago, he’d thought perhaps it might be going somewhere. The only place it would go now was an executioner’s block, because it would be beyond foolish to believe she’d ever forgive him for this.

He gripped his wand so tightly, his fingers started to become numb.

It was all his fault. Regardless of how much the two of them wanted to go there, how determined they’d been, they couldn’t possibly have known what to expect.

Not Sebastian, whose experience with curses extended to reading about them in the safety and comfort of the library or the common room. Maybe he’d tried some of them on the dummies in the Undercroft, but that was not the same as experiencing the effects they had on living, breathing humans.

And certainly not her.

Ominis should have known better, he shouldn’t have let himself be swept away by their enthusiasm, by her sweet, reassuring words. It was his fault. He should have known better.

The worst part was, he’d gotten what he came for.

He found Noctua.

A pile of cold, dead bones on the ground. Ominis wanted to cry, to scream. He wanted to cradle her remains in his arms, tell her how sorry he was, beg her for forgiveness, because if she hadn’t loved him, she would be alive. He’d long known that she was dead, otherwise she would have come back for him- and he could almost feel her, the ghost of her touch as she sweetly ran her fingers through his hair to comfort him.

The fear made it impossible to form a clear thought.

Aunt Noctua was dead, and he and two of the only living humans he cared about might soon share her fate. How would Anne cope if Sebastian never came back? And their uncle Solomon?

What would Professor Fig think if she suddenly vanished? He’d mocked her for it when he found her leaving the Undercroft, but he knew there was a genuine, tender friendship between them. If anything happened to her, it would break the man’s heart. And what about all the new friends she’d made? Her roommates, in their Hufflepuff dormitory, when would they worry about her empty bed?

Sebastian’s voice broke through the fog in his brain. “I can teach you crucio, or I can cast it on you.”

Ominis wasn’t even surprised. He’d known what kind of books Sebastian usually stole from the restricted section, but it had been easy, comfortable to pretend he didn’t.

But she wasn’t supposed to be involved in this. Regardless of the decision she’d make, something innocent inside her would die. And it would all be his fault.

“I want to learn the curse, but I won’t cast it on you. You need to cast it on me.”

Of course, facing two horrible choices, she somehow managed to find the worst possible combination of both of them.

He turned away. He knew there was nothing he could do to block out the sounds, even if he crawled into the furthest corner away from them. And he’d lost every right to speak up when he sent her away.

“Crucio”

He flinched, even knowing the curse wasn’t aimed at him. All the air suddenly left the room, he couldn’t breathe, he tried but his lungs wouldn’t work. He felt faint.

She fell- why in Merlin’s name hadn’t she sat down, she’d known what was going to happen, what if she hit her head, why hadn’t Sebastian said something-

Gasping for breath, convulsing under the curse that made her feel as if everything inside her was trying to be on the outside, splitting her open everywhere, all at once.

The ground seemed to come closer, and yet he was somehow still standing upright, his insides twisting, writhing, he was going to be sick.

“Well done, my dear. I am proud of you.”

It was his mother’s voice, and for a horrible moment, he thought he was still there, the years since nothing but an illusion his mind had come up with in an instant to distract himself, screams that sounded like they couldn’t possibly come from a human throat filling his ears, mirroring his own.

Sebastian said something- he couldn’t hear what, and suddenly, it was over.

Ominis opened his mouth, but all that came out was a strangled sob. Then he suddenly noticed his cheeks were wet. Pain shot from his fingers through his hand still holding his wand, and he forced himself to relax his grip. “Are you all right?” He finally managed to squeeze out, in a voice he hardly recognised as his own.

The next moment he cursed himself, because of course she wasn’t, and he should know better than anyone.

“The pain- it was excruciating, but I’ll survive. Let’s keep moving.”

Lying again. But he knew it was for Sebastian’s benefit, so he said nothing.

Ominis made himself move, made his hands come up and wipe away the tears, made his legs carry him through the doorway. When he walked past Noctua’s remains, something inside of him broke.

“We made it. We found Salazar Slytherin’s scriptorium,” Sebastian said, without a hint of remorse.

This was where she should break down, stop putting on a brave face, make Sebastian realise what he’d done.

But of course she didn’t, she went ahead, crossed the room. Announced she found a book. Every step she took made his heart sink further. They didn’t sound like they usually would, her footsteps. Neither did her voice. She did her best not to show it, but he knew she felt miserable.

“You two go ahead, let me know what’s in it. I’ll wander around a bit.” They were empty words, more an excuse to give them space than anything. He didn’t trust himself to touch a single thing in there, even accidentally, lest Salazar’s madness seeped into him through his fingertips, afflicting him like every other living Gaunt.

…but it was already there, wasn’t it? Sleeping, dormant. He’d done it again, letting his Slytherin sense of self-preservation take over and made another suffer, so that he’d remain unharmed and his hands clean. Not that they were to begin with.

The two of them stood upstairs, talking. How she had the strength, he couldn’t fathom. He couldn’t hear them clearly either, his head felt as if it was wrapped in cotton. Something about the book. Sebastian seemed satisfied enough.

Ominis slowly followed them up the stairs. He couldn’t stand being there anymore, the room itself seemed to crawl under his skin, ready to embed itself into his flesh and stay there forever.

And she still hadn’t spoken to him, face to face.

“I’ve been getting an uneasy feeling about this place. We shouldn’t linger here. Let’s find a way out, please.” He hated how broken his voice sounded, he had no right to be this pitiful, when he was the one left unscathed.

Sebastian’s answer made Ominis want to wring his neck. “I don’t want to leave, but I owe you- both of you. Without both of you, we’d never have made it this far.” No remorse. None.

Stay here, then.

“We were lucky-” No, don’t say that, she can hear you- “We could have died. We must swear never to do this again.” Ominis wished she would say something, agree or shout back, he wished either of them would.

“I see a way out.”

“Best news I heard all day.”

She was the first one to leave, and Ominis let Sebastian follow her through the passage that spewed them out right in front of their common room.

She still didn’t say anything, and he couldn’t bring himself to ask how she was feeling, or apologise. He’d never before heard an ounce of contempt in her voice, but he surely would now, if she answered him.

“Ominis, about your aunt-” Sebastian started.

“Please, Sebastian.” Not now. “I meant what I said before. We swear right now never to engage in anything to do with Dark Magic again.”

“Understood.I’m truly sorry about your aunt, Ominis,” Sebastian said, almost too quickly.

“I suppose after all this, I am grateful to know what happened to her. Thank you.”

The silence stretched. Surely, now she’d be saying something, anything, if not to him, then to Sebastian.

She left without a word, and along with her footsteps, he could hear the promise of something important disappear.

a/n: So this chapter had all the hurt, the next one has the comfort (and yes, those two were also originally one chapter that was getting monstrous in length, so I split it again), let me know if I overdid it with the angst. There was once a lot I wanted to put in the a/n for this chapter, but now I’m just exhausted and glad it’s done, I was struggling a lot with this one and I honestly don't think it's the best. So let me just say, I’m 100% convinced Ominis would blame himself for what happened, he was the only one who had any actual experience with the dark arts and what his family is capable of, he went in there completely willingly and he still thinks he’s a horrible person for what he had to do as a child, even though I’m sure we all agree that he shouldn’t. As for Sebastian and Mc, I actually have no problem at all with how the crucio scene went down, to me it’s a classic case of dumb teenagers doing a thoughtless, reckless thing and being in denial about it immediately afterwards, until it comes back to haunt them once they’re alone with their thoughts for a bit, so that’s gonna be the next chapter (and I promise you won’t have to wait as long for that one, it’s already halfway done)

#hogwarts legacy fanfiction #ominis gaunt #hogwarts legacy mc #ominis x mc #ominis gaunt x mc #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fandom #mallow tries to write #WAYDH

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