#always wondered how to make him look good with his weird dark blue strands

[cressidagrey]

Looked to the Sky - Chapter 10

Summary: 

Eira Archeron was neither a Valkyrie, nor a Seer, nor the High Lady of the Night Court. She was, however, Azriel‘s mate with her own mysterious, untrained powers.

Also known as: Azriel tries to court his mate the human way.

Warnings: 

THIS IS THE LIGHTNING IN A BOTTLE SEQUEL! SO READ THAT FIRST IF YOU WANNA READ THIS ONE OTHERWISE THIS MAKES NO SENSE!

Elain Bashing, Low Self Esteem, Eira has a shiny new spine, Azriel threatens to murder and the shadows keep torturing Elaine's floral arrangements and without @k-godling this would have never happened.

(super pretty dividers by @tsunami-of-tears)

“And if something happens…”

“We do know how to contact you,” Mor drawled drily from her seat on the couch. “Velaris will still be standing when you return, High Lord,” she told Rhys sarcastically. Az bit back a smile while Amren huffed.

"And you're alright with taking care of Nyx?" Feyre checked carefully. It was already dangerous enough for the High Lord, the High Lady, the General and the Spymaster to be out of the Night Court at the same time. There was no need to add the Heir to the Night Court to it as well.

Mor rolled her eyes. "He'll be alive and happy when you return," she promised Feyre.

Rhys sighed as he watched Feyre fuss over Nyx, who was sitting on the ground beside her, playing with what looked like a stuffed toy of some sort. A bat, now that he was looking at it with more interest. 

He wondered where exactly he had gotten that from for a moment. 

"He’ll be in good hands, love," Rhys assured Feyre, walking over to place his hands on her shoulders.

"And don't give her too much milk!" Azriel heard his mate exclaim, fussing about the little kitten that followed behind Eira everywhere. Snow, or Snowflake, as Eira had christened her, would stay with Cerridwen and Nuala...and Eira was fussy about it. Had been for days. 

Azriel had more than once been jealous of a damn cat because it got all of Eira’s attention. And then he looked at Eira smiling at her, at playing with her with a ribbon, at how she coaxed her to eat little pieces of chicken from her hands, and scratched her underneath her chin, all of this with that expression on her face that told him that she was incandescently happy and he wasn’t jealous anymore. Eira loved her. How could he be jealous of that?

Eira appeared just a moment later, Snow still wrapped in her arms. She was clad in a green coat over a cream dress…if one could call it a coat? Azriel had absolutely no clue about fashion but it was a weird coat. It only had three-quarter-length sleeves and the neckline was open, with a shawl collar that bared her clavicle...and right there rested a necklace featuring fat emeralds that he knew the shadows had given her.

His shadows twined around her, whispering their approval for how pretty she looked, and he couldn’t disagree. 

Eira was… She was stunning. She always was, of course. But that simple - yet still lovely - dress, the necklace, and her hair that was pinned up carefully with combs in it...Perfect.

He took her in, the slender, elegant lines of her figure in the dress, the dark gold strands of her hair in the elaborate braided hairstyle that revealed her lovely neck, and those blue-grey eyes that met his as a blush stained her cheeks.

She was beautiful.

"Where did you get that necklace from?" Amren suddenly demanded, staring at the necklace resting around Eira's throat with hungry eyes that made not only Azriel's brows raise.

Eira froze, and her fingers moved up to the emeralds that sat against her skin.

"The...?" she stumbled over her words a little bit, her glance shifting nervously between him, Amren, and Mor and Feyre, who had both also turned to look. "I...the Shadows got it for me," she said quietly, her cheeks darkening further.

What is this about? he demanded from the shadows, which seemed to nearly preen with something.

The Tiny Ancient One wanted it. We bought it first, they answered drily. Petty. So Petty.

He had to bite his lip to avoid snickering.

Of course, the Shadows had stolen something Amren had wanted from right under her nose. Of course, they had.

She still hasn’t apologised to her, the shadows sniped. It’s her own fault.

True. Amren was back in the city because Rhys would prefer his second and third to be there, but that came with strict instructions. Azriel wasn’t quite sure what exactly had been said, but the shadows had promised him that The High Lord had been more than clear with Amren. 

A little mrrrrp from Snowflake in her arms brought attention down to the kitten, and Azriel reached out to fondly stroke the little ball of fluff. Eira giggled as Snowflake leaned into his touch, pressing her face against his fingers and continuing to purr.

"She likes you," Eira said with a little smile, watching the little cat with fondness.

"I think the feeling is mutual," Az murmured quietly, as he gently scratched Snowflake's head, and she just continued to press against his hands for more. Another mrrrp escaped the little cat, and Eira giggled a little.

"There we are!" Cassian exclaimed at that moment, Nesta trailed behind him. "I hope Helion still knows how to throw a party!"

"Or how to host one at least," Azriel grumbled under his breath, as he withdrew his hand from Snowflake's head. Rhys chuckled at the comment, as Feyre rolled her eyes.

Eira next to him stayed quiet, and he could see the nervousness in every line of her body. He offered her his arm and she slid her hand into the crook of his elbow, as she placed Snow on the ground.

"It will be alright," he promised her. It would be alright. It was only a wedding. Even if that meant facing Elain and he knew how nervous Eira was about that…He wasn’t nervous. He had promised himself an iron-clad grip on his temper. It would not flare. He would not actually kill Elain. Regardless of if he thought she deserved it for what she had done to them. “I’ll be there,” he added after a moment.  He wasn’t going to leave her to face her demons alone. Not when she had grown even paler at the thought of facing Elain. Her fingers were gripping his arm almost like a vice.

"Everybody ready?" Rhys asked. "We'll winnow into the Courtyard of Sunray Palace."

A chorus of confirmations met his question, as Azriel placed a little kiss against his mate’s head, while her fingers in the crook of his elbow remained as tight as iron.

“Ready as we’ll ever be, I guess...” Cassian muttered, and Azriel silently agreed.

The shadows wrapped around them, and Azriel took a moment to make sure Eira was wrapped in them as well before they vanished from the River House. And rematerialised in the Day Court.

His first thought was...it was bright.

Very bright.

The brilliant sun was shining overhead, and the courtyard they appeared in was large and lovely, if a bit...showy. Similar to the House of Wind, The Sunray Palace was carved into the stone of a Mountain, that was covered in lush grass. He looked up to see a group of Pegasi fly up to their home in the highest tower.

He turned his head to check on Eira, catching her pale face and the nervous gulp as she took the Palace in, and his worry spiked. She was shaking like a leaf, and her knuckles were white where she clutched his elbow.

And then he watched as her shoulders went back and her chin went up, her jaw clenched nearly imperceptively. "You look lovely by the way," he whispered in her ear, making her blush. "Green suits you. Though I am partial to blue."

The compliment drew a flush of colour to her cheeks, and her shoulders relaxed ever so slightly as a little smile appeared on her face.

“Of course, you would say that,” she shot back, the slight tremble in her voice still there. “You’re biased. And don’t try to distract me.”

He chuckled even as he led them forward, the two of them easily slotting into place between Nesta and Cassian, Nesta throwing her younger sister a look. Azriel could read the worry into it but he shook his head nearly imperceptively. Eira was doing well. Better than he thought she would at any rate.

Eira still looked nervous. Extremely nervous. Her hand still had a death grip on his arm, and she was walking stiffly beside him, and yet...she still had her chin lifted high, her eyes forward. He had to admire the courage she was putting on.

The doors to the Palace suddenly opened, and Helion stepped out, grinning brilliantly. “Well, well, well, you all are a sight for sore eyes,” he said, his voice drawling out the syllables in that typical Day Court fashion.

“Don’t you know it, High Lord,” Cassian replied in his usual easy, charming tone, and Helion chuckled as his gaze travelled over the group with a smirk. Suddenly the smirk faltered as his gaze landed on Eira and the shadows wrapped around her.

His eyes widened, and Azriel didn't know what this was about before Helion continued. "We prepared rooms for you all. Why don't you arrive properly and then we'll have lunch?"

The suggestion was casual, but Azriel still thought that Helion's gaze remained on the way the shadows swirled up her body. It did result in the shadows hissing

"Thank you," Rhys drawled, easily matching the Day Court High Lord's tone. "We'll do that, and we'll see you for lunch."

The High Lord nodded, and retreated back into the Palace, while the group headed in the same direction.

When he glanced at Eira again, her face was paler than before, her hands trembling even more.

"Breathe, love," he whispered to her quietly, his voice soft, hoping it would soothe her a little bit. She gave him a weak nod in response, and he could see her forcing herself to take a shaky breath in. Azriel didn't know entirely what was going through her head, but he had the feeling it was not a happy thought, by any means.

They were shown to their suite of rooms, arranged around a shared living room, and he led her to a marigold yellow sofa. She collapsed like somebody cut the strings holding her up.

He had half a mind to curse, but her paler face, the trembling hands, stopped him. Instead, he carefully lowered himself down onto the sofa beside her, pulling her onto his lap without a second thought, and wrapped her in the shadows around them.

“Breathe, sweetheart,” he repeated, as one of his hands stroked gently up and down her back, while the other cupped her cheek.

She leaned against his touch willingly, as another shudder wracked her frame.

"I don't know what's wrong with me," she whimpered.

His heart wrenched in his chest at the tremble in her voice. "There's nothing wrong with you, love," he assured her quietly. "Nothing at all. You are nervous to face Elain. That's alright."

She sighed softly, but relaxed against him, bedding her head against his shoulder.

"Looking awfully comfy there," Cassian drawled and her cheeks flushed scarlet. She moved to get off his lap but Azriel held her in place gently until she stilled.

He wrapped his arm a little bit tighter around her, keeping her from getting off his lap, as he shot Cassian a quick glare, while the hand rubbing her back continued the slow and gentle motion.

He could almost hear the Shadows whispering their own displeasure at Cassian in the back of his mind. Azriel could hear a sharp smack and he just knew that it must have been Nesta.

He turned his head to send a glare in Cassian's direction, as the Shadows snickered in his mind.

"Sorry, I am sorry, Eira" Cassian hurried to add, as Feyre stifled a laugh behind her hand.

Eira said nothing, just curled tighter against him, resting her temple against his shoulder. 

"We got three bedrooms, not four," Rhys said with a sigh, apparently having surveyed the rooms in the meantime. "They clearly expected Azriel and Eira to share a room.”

Azriel wondered if that was on purpose. If that was Elain’s doing. Her attempt at making Eira uncomfortable. Eira, the one of the sisters that kept the most to human ideals of modesty, that blushed if he as much as kissed her cheek…that only kissed him when they were alone. And even then it were quick pecks against his lips. 

Not that he would ever protest against one of Eira’s kisses. He wanted to hoard each touch of her plush, soft lips against his like a dragon hoarded its treasure. 

But now he could feel Eira's body stiffen in his lap once more, and he glanced down at her. She was very pale again, her fingers trembling where they were wrapped around his jacket. He wanted to smack his head against the nearest wall, or at least something, but he refrained from doing that, and instead just pulled her further against his chest with a quiet huff.

"Their error," Nesta said drily. "Eira and I will share."

The Shadows were practically sulking in his head. 

He shut them up with a growl. 

Even when he wouldn’t have laid a single finger on Eira if they did share a bed, that clearly was a step too far for her. It would have made her uncomfortable. And he wasn’t going to push her. Not ever. 

He had never asked, but there didn’t seem to be any human suitors in her past. Kissing seemed foreign to her, making her nervous and excited, her heartbeat quickening and she stared at him with this expression of wonder on her face. 

"Alright, that works as well," Feyre agreed, and Azriel silently echoed that. 

He could feel how tense Eira still was in his lap, though. Still trembling nervously under his touch. He continued to rub her back slowly, still trying to soothe her. 

“Cassian can share with Azriel,” Nesta declared. 

“Oh come on,” Cassian muttered. 

The Shadows muttered their displeasure as well. 

Azriel rolled his eyes, his fingers still rubbing her back soothingly.

"You're a grown male, Cassian," he said, his voice dry. "I'm sure you'll live."

A huff from the General, and Azriel just rolled his eyes again, his glance down to his mate again.

She still looked quite pale. The hand on her back continued the gentle rubbing. 

"Interesting that it wasn't Elain and Lucien that greeted us," Feyre said drily. "Given that it's their wedding we are supposed to attend."

"Very interesting," Rhys agreed, as Azriel continued to eye Eira in his lap.

She was still tense against him, still pale, still trembling a little bit. Her nervousness and fear were rolling in waves towards him, through the bond.

"Elain will be at the lunch, no doubt," Feyre said, and Rhys just hummed in agreement.

The Shadows continued to whisper angrily in his mind, upset at the way their Mate was feeling.

"Or maybe Elain is terrified of what the shadows will do to her now," Nesta quipped darkly.

Azriel couldn't help but smirk a little bit at that.

He could practically hear the Shadows preen. Cassian let out a bark of laughter, and Feyre tried to hold hers back, while Rhys tried to keep a serious expression.

You'll behave, he told them sternly.

Maybe , they hissed back, though they were still clearly preening over the compliment.

He rolled his eyes and glanced down at Eira again.

I mean it. You will behave. You do not attack her, he reiterated in his head. 

A few displeased mutterings echoed in his head, but they did quiet down. He refrained from rolling his eyes this time, and his glance went back to the female in his lap. She was no longer pale, the tremors and shakes having died down, and while she was still nervous, she now appeared relaxed. At least a little bit.

"Let's get changed for Lunch," Nesta said easily.

"You literally just put on a dress before we arrived here," Cassian said with a snort.

"You don't need to understand females, Cassian," Rhys said easily. "Just deal with it."

Cassian grumbled, as Feyre stifled another laugh and Azriel held in a snicker.

Nesta held out her hand for Eira, who took it and let her sister pull her to her feet, giving him a small smile and his hand a squeeze before they, together with Feyre, disappeared into one bedroom.

He watched her go, a strange feeling of loss creeping up once she was out of his sight.

Azriel was tempted, so tempted to get up and go after her, pull her back onto the sofa, onto his lap, into his arms, but he managed to stop himself from doing so.

He leaned his head back against the back of the sofa, and a long sigh escaped him.

"You're absolutely besotted." His head snapped up to see Rhys staring at him, his violet eyes sparkling with smug amusement. The Shadows immediately hissed in agreement his mind at Rhys' observation.

"Shut up," Azriel just grumbled.

Rhys smirked at him in response, and Cassian just laughed. "Whatever you do tonight, if your shadows start sweetly caressing me like they do to Eira, I'll scream," Cassian muttered.

"That won't happen," Azriel immediately shot back, the words practically hissed through his teeth.

At the same time, the Shadows muttered their own disapproval of that possibility. Only our Mate, they whispered.

Cassian just rolled his eyes.

"Do you think she'll manage?" Cassian asked, growing serious. "She seems awfully...nervous."

A heavy sigh escaped him, as he sat up straighter in his seat, running a hand through his hair.

"I don't know," he admitted. "She...is very nervous. But she's trying not to be. She's trying to stay brave."

"And you?" Rhys asked quietly. "How are you holding up?"

He took a deep breath, contemplating the question.

He was angry. Furious. Worried about his mate, his heart clenching every time he felt her distress through the bond.

But he had to stay strong. For her. He needed to keep it together.

"I..." he mumbled, his voice faltering. He had to pause for a moment to collect himself. "I'm hanging in there."

Silence followed his admission, and Cassian and Rhys were studying him. He knew his friends could see through his facade, knew that they knew how worried he was. His face must have given all away.

"You have every right to be angry," Rhys said quietly. "I don't know what I would do in your place."

"What I want to do is to take her home," he admitted, his voice quiet and gruff, his eyes fixed on his lap, where he was clenching his hands into fists. "I want to take her home. I don't want her here. I don't want her to face Elain. Hell, I don't even want her to meet Elain at all. I..." He took a shuddering breath. "But she needs this. She needs this closure. I think Eira knows that herself."

Another heavy sigh escaped him, as he lifted his head and met Rhys' eyes.

"I just hate...seeing her so scared. She doesn't deserve this. She doesn't deserve to feel frightened and scared because of...Elain," he said, bitterness seeping into his voice as he said her name.

"What did she see?" Cassian said suddenly. "Elain had a vision of you and Eira and worked to make sure it wouldn't come to pass. But what did she see?"

"Cass..." Rhys said carefully, but Azriel shook his head. It was alright.

"She saw...She saw Eira and a little girl in a garden. A little girl with her hair and freckles and my wings and eyes. She saw me coming home to them...picking up our daughter and kissing Eira...they saw my hand on her swollen belly...another child in her womb. She saw our children Cassian." There was a heavy pause after Azriel's words.

Cassian just stared at him, wide-eyed and silent, while Rhys' mouth was set into a thin-lipped grave line.

His voice had started shaking a little bit, towards the middle of his story, and he clenched his jaw against the emotions building in his chest.

"That you didn't outright kill her is a fucking miracle," Cassian seethed.

"I damn near came close," Azriel muttered darkly, while anger coursed through his veins.

His jaw was set, his hands were clenching and unclenching almost of their own accord, while the Shadows kept muttering angrily in the back of his mind. They were furious, furious that their Mate was distressed.

"Why did she do it?" Cassian demanded. "Because she is the prettier one? Because if she couldn't have Azriel, Eira shouldn't have him either? Because of jealousy ?!"

"Jealousy and spite," Azriel said darkly. "That's what it comes down to. Jealousy and spite ."

He wanted to break something. Preferably Elain. He wanted to wrap his hands around her neck and squeeze.

He took a shuddering breath to collect himself, as he felt himself slowly losing control of his temper.

But he needed to stay in control. He had to. He wasn't going to explode, not in front of Cassian and Rhys, and certainly not in front of Eira.

"I...hate...her," he bit out, his voice strangled, as his hands clenched and unclenched, even as he tried to keep control over his temper. "I hate her so much. Hell, I want to destroy the very thought of her. I...I want to make sure she can never hurt Eira again. And if it's the last thing I damn well do," he continued, and his voice was venomous. "She. Will. Never. Lay one finger on my mate ever again."

"And I'll make her suffer," he snarled, his voice almost a growl. "By the Mother, I won't just kill her. I'll make her suffer first. For what she did to Eira. For what she did to us. For the thought of that future that she denied me. I will make her pay."

A strangled breath escaped him, his lungs straining with the effort of keeping himself from going on a rampage right then and there.

He closed his eyes, and took a long shuddering breath, as fury continued to course through his veins, while the Shadows hissed and whispered in his mind, their mutterings murderous in nature.

He let out a shuddering breath, as he tried to will his raging temper to abate. He needed to calm down. He needed to, for Eira. She was nervous enough as it was. He couldn't go to her like this. He...He wouldn't do it. He refused to upset her further.

He kept his eyes closed, as he tried to force his emotions to a simmering rage.

Another shuddering breath escaped him, as it took all his strength to calm down. He forced the tension from his body, slowly loosening his clenched jaw. His hands were still clenched into tight fists, but he continued to just breathe deeply, willing his temper to die down.

It felt like an eternity before he finally felt in control of his own emotions again.

He opened his eyes again and met Rhys and Cassian's stares.

Neither of them said anything, silently watching him, and he leaned back against the sofa with a sigh.

"I'm alright," he said and was slightly surprised that his voice was steady, even if he still felt like he was full of rage. "I'm fine. I'm alright," he repeated, and it was more of a reminder to himself than anything else.

"You need to not react like that when you see her," Rhys said quietly, and Azriel couldn't tell if it was a warning or a mere observation.

"I know that," he said between clenched teeth. "I know that, Rhys. But I have every right to be furious. Hell, I have every right to rip her apart."

"You do," Rhys agreed quietly. "But it won't do anyone any favours if you get like this when you see her. You need to keep your temper in check. For Eira ."

***

Eira was staring at her reflection in the mirror, struggling to recognise the person looking back at her. 

Her eyes were wide and anxious, her breathing quick and nervous, and her hands were trembling. A part of her was wondering how she was even managing to stand at the moment, seeing how her legs felt like they were close to giving in underneath her.

But she was also...she was also dressed in a tissue-thin gown out of pleated silk in a lavender colour, cinched in around the waist by an embroidered ribbon she had made. Her hair was pulled back from her face, diamond encrusted haircombs that she had no clue from where these had come from fastened in her hair...( One day she would need to actually get the shadows to stop buying her things. ), a diamond bracelet tightened around her wrist…They had even clipped earrings to her lobes, diamonds as well, dangly and pretty and in the Human Lads would be considered to be too much for a simple luncheon. 

But here in Prythian, the shadows didn’t seem to think twice about it, to wrap her in more diamonds than most people had ever even seen in the same place. 

Once they judged her ready,  a tendril of shadows curled itself back around her wrist, while another picked up the small train of her dress.

"You know, I am kinda jealous. You have a handmaiden wherever you are," Feyre said drily.

Eira let out an embarrassed little laugh, the sound shaky and weak as her heart felt like it was going to pound its way out of her chest.

"They are...very helpful," she admitted, as she gave a small, nervous glance to Feyre.

Nesta finished pinning her own hair into her usual coronet, smoothing the blue-green fabric of her dress. "You do not need to accept her apology," her eldest sister said fiercely. "Remember that, Eira."

She swallowed, the familiar nervous butterflies back in her stomach, and she gave a shaky nod.

Feyre placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, as she gave her a gentle squeeze. It was a little steadying and helped quell some of her anxiousness, even as the nervous tremors continued to wrack through her body.

"I...know," she said quietly.

Right. There went nothing.

She took a few more, long, deep breaths, to calm her nerves.

She was going to be alright. She was going to be just...fine.

You're going to be fine, she repeated to herself as she squared her shoulders.

Azriel was waiting for her as she left the bedroom, in a quiet conversation with Rhys and Cassian. He looked up as soon as he came out, his expression softening.

His eyes widened momentarily as a breath caught in his throat at the sight of her in that dress, and a small smile started spreading across his lips.

"Eira," he said quietly, taking a tentative step towards her. "You...You look beautiful, sweetheart."

She gave a shaky smile, her eyes meeting his as those familiar little butterflies came to life in her belly.

"Thank you," she whispered, her heart fluttering at the affectionate endearment.

"Ready?" Rhys asked.

She exhaled, steadying her breathing, willing her trembling body to not shake.

Eira gave a shaky nod, even as the familiar anxiousness threatened to overwhelm her, and she swallowed past the lump forming in her throat.

"Ready," she whispered.

She just needed...She reached out for Azriel's hand before she could help herself, not caring how inappropriate this was. They weren't married, they weren't even engaged and still, she claimed his hand with hers, threading her fingers through his.

The feeling of scarred skin against her home, grounded her, giving her something to hang onto. 

The shadows that kept closer to him than usual, hiding behind the wings he had snapped close to his body, dusted over her arms for just a moment, like they wanted to assure Eira that they were there as well, before returning to their mater, leaving her with a few wrapped around her wrist and another tendril keeping her skirt in place. 

For a brief moment, Azriel looked down at where their fingers were woven together, before lifting his head again and giving her fingers a firm, reassuring squeeze. She felt his warmth through his skin, the steady beat of his pulse, and it was comforting...comforting to know that he was right next to her.

She took a few more, deep breaths, the anxiety continuing to flutter in her stomach, but...

But Azriel was here, she reasoned.

Azriel was right there...right next to her, holding her hand...and she could do this. She could get through this. All she had to do was stay close to him.

They were let to a dining room, with high ceilings, beautifully appointed in white and gold. 

“I swear I told them to put white jasmine and blush roses in here and not yellow carnations and orange lilies!” she heard her sister’s voice before she saw her. 

Seconds later, she got her first glance at her twin sister. Lucien and she made a lovely couple, always had. And Elain did look as utterly beautiful as she always had. Elain had always been extraordinarily lovely, but that hadn't changed in her transformation into a High Fae. Now she was utterly beautiful. 

Even when… with a blink Eira realised how harried-looking Elain was, fiddling with the flowers on the table.  Her heart clenched at the sight of her, mixed with the swirling, anxious emotions in her stomach, and she couldn't help the shuddering breath that escaped her as they walked into the room.

Azriel's hand clenched around hers.

Her eyes snapped to his. His face was a mask of ice. She had never seen him look ...like that before. Never seen...this tightly controlled murderous rage.

The shadow tightened around her wrist. She wasn't sure if it was in warning, but she didn't care anyway.

He was hers. Hers in every bit of this murderous rage. 

They came to a halt, and she felt the way Azriel clenched his jaw as his eyes met with Elain's across the room.

He was furious, she could practically feel the rage simmering under the surface, the only thing keeping him in check was his ironclad control...and the fact that he was holding onto her hand.

She would leave the diplomacy to Feyre and Rhys, the useless pretty words. She didn’t trust herself to say anything that was actually nice. Instead, she tugged Azriel along to find their seats at the table, pasting a smile on her face.

They sat at the table, and Azriel kept a firm hold of her hand, never loosening his grip on her. The shadows kept themselves firmly around her wrist and continued to cling unto her, even as they settled into place at the table.

And a part of her could feel how Azriel was tensed, how he was wound up so tight she was afraid he might snap.

Cassian sat down next to Azriel, with Nesta bracketing Eira's other side, fully ignoring whatever seating arrangement had been put down by the Day Court. 

Eira wasn’t stupid, she knew exactly why Cassian had been put there. In the event of Azriel losing his temper, Cassian may had a chance at subduing him. Though she somehow doubted that would actually work. 

With them right there, and Azriel holding onto her hand, she felt...steady. She felt secure...secure enough to withstand this dreaded luncheon.

Feyre and Rhys sat down next to Helion, Lucien and Elain, and she could feel the tension in the room.

She could sense Elain's gaze on her, sitting directly across from her. , but didn't dare to meet her eyes as the anxiousness roiled in her stomach, even as Azriel's fingers continued to grasp hers, and one of the shadows curled around her wrist, giving a small, reassuring little squeeze.

"It's so nice that you could make it," Elain said, a smile on her face, masking her nervousness. She was glancing at the shadows that were topping up Eira’s water glass, clearly making a pest out of themselves, to put bread on her plate and drag the butter dish closer to her. 

For just one moment Eira wondered if they did that on purpose. Were they trying to scare Elain?

"We wouldn't have wanted to miss this," Feyre said, her voice carefully neutral.

There was a stiffness in the air, palpable enough that it could be cut with a knife, the tension as so thick that one could drown in it, and Eira just sat there, her fingers tightly wrapped around Azriel's hand.

There was a moment of silence, where nobody commented.

And then...her heart hammered against her ribs, her stomach twisting in knots, as those doe-like brown eyes landed directly on her. "You look...good, Eira. Healthy. I hope everything healed well," Elain said sweetly.

Her breath caught in her throat as she fought down the nausea that welled up in her stomach, and she forced a tight smile onto her lips.

"Everything healed up just fine," she said, her voice shaking, only to be steadied by the firm squeeze Azriel gave her hand.

It was the truth. Nothing but a thin white line underneath her left breast. Nobody but her would probably ever see it. 

"And the... lightning ?" Lucien wondered. "I hope your cauldron-given gift didn't give you too much trouble," he quipped, clearly trying to lighten the mood. “Elain mentioned that you…defended yourself quite well.”

The nausea that welled up in her throat was nearly immediate. Defended herself. She had defended herself. She had also killed 4 males. 

"Lightning?" The High Lord of Day asked, sounding fascinated. He was looking at her like she was an exceptionally interesting specimen.  

Her stomach roiled, the nausea continuing to grow inside her, as her heart thundered in her chest.

“No,” Eira said, struggling to keep her voice even. “It...It wasn’t too much trouble,” she continued, even as the nausea continued to rise, and she felt like she might retch all over the table.

"She's learning to control it," Rhys said evenly. "She's doing as well as one could expect."

Her heart fluttered at Rhys’ words. He was trying his best to...deflect the attention away from her. Trying to help.

“So she really can generate lightning then?” Helion spoke up, sounding utterly fascinated.

"She can," Rhys confirmed, his voice even. His words were simple, but the tone of them was almost warning, and she could feel Azriel tense even more next to her. And that was enough to pique Helion’s interest.

“Extraordinary,” he said, and he sounded way too fascinated with her wretched blessing.

Her heart skipped a beat, the nausea continuing to grow in her stomach until she feared she might vomit at any moment. Her hand clenched around Azriel's, fingers practically digging into his skin, while the shadows around her wrist squeezed reassuringly. And all the while, she could feel Elain's eyes on her, her stare practically boring into her.

"Do the shadows help control it?" Elain asked hesitantly. Only now, Eira realised that more had come to swarm around her, banding around her midsection and chest, like trailing black ribbons. Their touch was gentle, and soft. 

"No," came Azriel's reply, and his voice was so filled with cold fury that she was amazed he could even get the words out.

He was tense, like a coiled spring, holding onto her hand like a lifeline, while the shadows continued to cling to her, continuing to twine around her wrist in a firm, reassuring grip.

"They like touching Eira because she's Azriel's mate," Cassian said, his voice icy. Her heart stuttered in her chest at Cassian's words.

His blunt, to-the-point declaration of her belonging to Azriel...the words had stunned her, and it seemed they had stunned Elain too if the way that she stiffened was any indicative.

"Ah, yes...we should talk about that," Helion said with a sigh. "Elain?"

The tension in the room immediately ratcheted up even more higher, and Eira could feel it, as a chill settled over the room. She was so tense, she was struggling just to breathe, and her hand was trembling where it was held in Azriel’s ironclad grip.

"I am sorry," Elain said quietly.

Her heart skipped a beat at her twin sister’s words, her stomach twisting in knots, as her eyes flicked towards her. Elain’s voice was soft but sincere, and her brown eyes were wide and vulnerable, and there were tears in her eyes... Tears in her eyes as she spoke.

"I am sorry, Eira," she said again, her voice trembling. “For...for everything.”

And suddenly...suddenly the fear, the nervousness went away, replaced with ice-cold anger. "You are sorry ," she repeated flatly. Sorry .

The anger in her voice was not missed, and she heard Nesta and Feyre inhale sharply. Elain's eyes widened at the tone in her voice...at the anger in Eira’s words, and she gave a small, shaky nod, her chin trembling slightly.

"I am sorry. I shouldn't have...I shouldn't have...I shouldn't have tried to keep you and Azriel away from each other. I was...I shouldn't have done that."

Eira clenched her jaw, the anger still boiling in her blood as she continued to hold her sister’s gaze.

"No," she replied, her voice so flat it was as if it was made of ice. "You shouldn’t have done that," she repeated coldly. "But that's not all you did, Elain," she spat out. "You saw that vision. You know what you did." What she had done. Namely, keep Eira's babies from being born .

Her heart lurched in her chest, and she felt Azriel squeeze her hand tightly as if he knew what had been going through her thoughts.

Her throat was tight, and her breathing was laboured, as she continued to hold her sister’s gaze, her eyes cold and furious as she spoke.

"You did a lot more than keeping me away from Azriel',” she hissed.

And the worst part was, her sister didn’t even try to deny what she had done. Didn’t even try to fight back. All she could do was sit there, looking like a wounded puppy, which only fuelled the anger in Eira’s chest.

“You tried to take everything from me,” she hissed again.

"It all worked out!" Elain defended herself. "You and Azriel seem to be..."

She couldn’t be serious, could she? 

It all worked out?

It all worked out?!?

"It is not all ‘worked out’!" she snapped, her voice cracking as she fought back a frustrated scream bubbling in her chest. "You tried to take everything from me!" she repeated, tears burning at the corners of her eyes. The tears weren't for her. 

The tears were for her babies. 

The anger ratcheted in her chest and she could feel the lightning underneath her skin, begging to be released. Begging for her to let go of her grip on it and let it find its target. Let it find Elain. Let it hit her. 

She clenched her jaw, forcing that feeling down, as she met her sister’s eyes with a cold glare. "You tried to take my children from me," she hissed at Elain. " My children. "

The temperature in the room seemed to drop to below freezing, and she could feel Nesta and Feyre’s gazes on her. She didn’t care though. Her eyes were entirely focused on her twin, and the words had come out in a deadly hiss, the anger steaming out of her in waves.

"You tried to take our babies ," she repeated, her words cracking again as she spoke.

She felt Azriel’s grip on her hand tighten even more, the shadows clinging to her wrist once more, as if trying to both keep her grounded and hold her back.

And it was the only thing keeping her from lunging across the table and grabbing her sister by the throat.

Her skin was itchy, that strange, foreign energy writhing underneath the surface, and she fought to keep it reined in, to keep it from escaping, even as the room went silent, the tension so palpable you could taste it in the air.

It hurt, keeping it restrained, and her heart thudded against her ribs, her breath coming in quick, ragged gasps.

Her whole body was tense, and all she wanted was to let the lightning free. To let it roar.

"You are my twin sister, Elain," she said, biting out every word. "We spend 9 months sharing our mother's womb. I trusted you with my life. And you did this to me."

Her sister just sat there, her eyes wide and watery, as if somehow even that had been a shock to her.

"We spent years together," she continued, her words sharp and cold. "I never thought I would need to worry about you betraying me."

Her chest hurt like something was sitting on it, making it hard to breathe, as she continued to hold Elain’s gaze.

Elain’s eyes were wide, watery, and wounded, and she might have been almost sorry that she looked so hurt…if not for the fact that Elain was the one who had caused Eira to be in this position in the first place. Elain was the one who did this to her…hurt her so badly she didn’t know if it’d ever heal.

"I…I…" Elain started, her voice cracking. She looked like she was going to cry, and Eira felt herself waver slightly at the sight of her distraught expression. But then…her mind flashed back to the vision of her daughter , so small and beautiful…and that small, weak flutter of sympathy in her chest died.

"I trusted you," she hissed, her voice thick as she desperately tried to hold back the tears that were burning at the corners of her eyes. "I trusted you and look what you did to me. What you took from me."

Her sister let out a watery gasp, her lower lip quivering, and the tears slid silently down her face. And for a moment, Eira felt her resolve waver…only to remember the image of those two babies. The ones that should have been hers.

Anger flared again at that thought, her heart squeezing in her chest, as her breath hitched.

All the sympathy that she had felt was gone, and all that was left was the all-consuming rage coursing through her veins.

She had every right to be angry, she told herself. She had every right to feel this way.

She was so angry, so incandescent with rage, that her entire body was shaking, and she felt like she needed to just scream. To shout and rage and fight…fighting was all she wanted to do.

She gritted her teeth, her fingers wrapping tightly around Azriel’s hand, as she tried desperately to rein in the storm of emotions warring within her chest.

Azriel’s grip on her hand tightened as if he was sensing how close she was to breaking.

“Eira...” Elain said tremulously. Her sister’s voice was quiet, almost timid, and it was enough to snap something within her.

"Don’t. Don’t speak to me. You are the last person who gets to speak to me right now," she snarled, her voice cold as steel. "I loved you," Eira snapped. "I loved you and you did this to me. And now you want to tell me that everything is alright because it WORKED OUT?!"

Her sister looked like she was going to start sobbing, her lower lip quivering faintly, while her brown eyes were like large, round pools. But Eira was done feeling sorry for her. Done feeling sympathy towards her.

“You don’t get to talk to me about what’s alright or not,” she hissed, fighting the urge to reach forward and throttle her. "I just want to know one thing. Why?" she snapped." WHY? Why did you do it?” she shouted bitterly.

Elain looked like she had absolutely no idea how to answer that. She looked like a lost child, and it took all of Eira’s strength to keep her seat and not lunge across the table to grab her by the shoulders and shake her.

She knew her eyes were probably like ice when they met her sister’s, and her glare was hard as steel as she waited for her answer. "Why?" Eira repeated icily.

Her sister’s lower lip was trembling, just as much as her shoulders, as she raised her head to meet Eira’s furious glare.

"I…" Her voice was small and watery, and her eyes were now wide and pleading. "I…I was jealous," Elain whispered.

Eira’s jaw dropped at the words. At the admission, she had just heard. She wasn’t sure what she had been expecting her sister to say, but a quiet confession of jealousy hadn’t been it.

Her sister’s chin trembled, her shoulders hunching slightly as she let out another sniffle. She sounded utterly small and looked almost pathetic in that moment as she slowly raised her head to meet her sister’s eyes.

“Of you and Azriel,” Elain admitted, her voice quiet, and trembling. "You...we just...we just got out of the cauldron and this was...one of the first things I saw. You didn't have visions. You weren't going insane. You...you adjusted so much quicker. Not a week later and you were making soup in the kitchen in the House of Wind and...you…were alright."

Alright. 

Eira thought back to these first few days after the cauldron. Thought back to the terror that had clawed under her skin. Thought back to too loud noises and every piece of clothing feeling like sandpaper against her skin. 

She thought back to how she hadn’t been able to sleep. How she had locked herself in the bathing chamber to hysterically break down because she had never wanted it. How she had pulled at her ears, too big, too pointy. How she had wanted to cut them off. How she had wanted to die. How she had thought that throwing herself off the balcony would be a solution . 

"I locked myself into the closet. I hid underneath the bed. I rocked back and forth and back and forth and hummed to myself to stop hearing heartbeats and breathing and birds," Eira spat out. "Yes, I was making soup. For you. Because somebody needed to," Eira said, her voice icy. “I wasn’t alright, Elain. I kept stuffing my ears with cotton wool for the better part of 2 years so I could sleep!”

Her sister looked like she was going to start crying yet again, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs, and it only fuelled the rage in Eira’s chest. 

“You were jealous of that ? Jealous that I was making soup? That I was taking care of you?” she repeated, her tone hard and cold. “Of the fact that I was trying to make a positive out of a shitty situation. That I was trying to move on with my life? That I tried not to give Feyre another thing to worry about? And you were jealous? Jealous of what ?!" 

Of the breakdowns she had daily? 

Her sister didn’t reply, her shoulders shaking as if she was trying to hold back a sob

“You were jealous of the fact that I was trying not to scream, not to break down crying,” she repeated, her voice now dangerously quiet. “Of the fact that I wasn’t moping around feeling sorry for myself, because somebody needed to make sure that you didn’t starve to death? That I was trying not to give Feyre or anyone any more of my baggage?”

"And that you got Azriel," Elain whispered. "You got...I saw you with him. With a kind man. I saw these children and I was...I wanted that. I wanted what that vision promised you. So I thought that if I..."

Her breath caught in her throat at her sister’s words, her heart twisting in her chest.

It was sick, what she had done. Horrible. And part of her had known that Elain had a crush on Azriel…but Eira had never thought she’d be spiteful enough to try and rip her children away from her just for that.

“So you wanted it," she stated coldly, her eyes like chips of ice. "You wanted what you saw me having. So you tried to take it for yourself.”

Her sister’s shoulders slumped, and she looked small and pathetic as she curled in on herself. That rage and anger were still burning hot inside her, but along with it, there was the slightest flicker of sympathy starting to burn within her again.

And Eira hated it. Hated that part of her that still felt sorry for her, even after what Elain had done. 

"And later? After you and Lucien figured things out?" Why did you continue it?" she snapped.

Her sister’s face screwed up, and she looked like she wanted to burst into tears yet again. Her chin quivered, her entire form trembling. And she looked so small and fragile, that that small flicker of sympathy flared again within her, and Eira found herself hating it.

"I was...I was angry," Elain muttered softly. "I was furious. I thought Azriel and I...there was something growing between us and then he...he called trying to kiss me a mistake."

Her sister’s voice was quiet and sad, and Eira could see her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

"Because it was," Azriel said, his voice quiet. "It was a mistake. You had a mate that was literally sleeping upstairs. I never should have laid a single finger on you."

Her sister flinched at Azriel's words and hunched even further in on herself, as if she wanted to crawl into a corner.  "Later it was revenge on me, wasn’t it?" Azriel said, ice dripping from his voice. 

Her sister looked as if she couldn't quite meet Azriel's gaze, her eyes lowered onto the table, her body trembling. She nodded. 

And part of the anger that was currently roiling within Eira burned hotter at that. How dare she look so pathetic now, like she was the damn victim and everything that had happened was Eira’s fault?

Eira’s free hand clenched into fists, and she could feel the sparks dancing across her skin, the strange energy writhing beneath the surface. Azriel, noticing this, gripped her hand tighter, his shadows snaking around her wrist again as they tried to rein in those sparks of lightning.

She didn’t want to hurt him. 

That was what made her reign it in. 

She was still boiling with rage, the anger thrumming through her veins like fire, and she desperately tried to calm herself, tried to get a hold of her temper.

She didn’t want to cause any damage, to break anything or hurt anyone, and the part of her that was still rational, still logical, forced her to rein in whatever was itching to get out. She breathed in and out, forcing herself to calm as those sparks danced across her fingers, and those shadows snaked up her arm. A part of her couldn’t help but notice how Elain’s eyes kept darting to the sparks and the shadows, her body tensing every time they appeared, and a small, vindictive part of her couldn’t help but be glad of it.

Her head was throbbing as that rage continued to thrum through her, but she took in another breath, forcing her mind to concentrate on the sensation of Azriel’s hand wrapped around her own. His skin was warm against hers. 

"I hope nobody ever does the same to you," Eira finally said, her voice quiet.

Her sister lifted her gaze, her eyes watery, and she looked as if she’d been slapped. She looked as if she was shocked at her words.

There was another pause, another silence, as the two sisters sat facing each other, and her words hung in the air.

Elain’s chin trembled again, as if she was fighting the urge to burst into tears once more. 

"I think we can all agree that Elain did not handle this...properly," Lucien said carefully.

Lucien’s words broke the silence, and Eira couldn’t help but feel a pang of irritation as he spoke. 

"No, she surely didn't," Rhys said, his voice dripping with disdain.

Her sister flinched at Rhys’s words, as if she had been struck, and her shoulders drooped even further than before. 

"I think that's an understatement," Nesta snapped.

Her sister’s eyes widened as if the sound of Nesta’s voice startled her. Elain’s head jerked to look over at her eldest sister, who was scowling at Elain with an almost furious look of disapproval.

Eira almost felt a little bad for her sister at that look in Nesta’s eyes, but that sympathy was quickly squashed as she remembered the pain that her sister had put her through.

Her chest ached, the memory of what she had lost still too fresh and raw, and a part of her knew that it would take a long time for the pain to subside.

And even then, she wasn’t sure if she would ever be able to forget what Elain did to her, and that knowledge sat like a lead weight in her stomach, making her feel like she was going to be sick.

Elain shrunk back at the look on Nesta’s face, her eyes even wider as she looked over at her eldest sister. And for a moment, just for a moment, it looked as if Nesta was going to reach across the table and smack her sister. The eldest sister’s hands were clenched into fists, and she looked like she was restraining herself, only just managing to rein in her own temper.

A pause. Another silence. Elain sat, looking small and fragile across the table, Lucien’s chair positioned right beside hers with a possessive arm wrapped over the back.

Azriel’s hand was still gripping hers. He was still sitting beside her, the Shadowsinger’s eyes glittering with fury whenever he looked over at her sister. And his fingers were still rubbing gentle circles on her wrist, the shadows still coiled against her skin, and Eira couldn’t tell if he was doing it to comfort her or himself.

"I am going to say this now," Azriel said quietly. " Once . If you ever do anything remotely similar to your sister again, it will not end well. Do you understand me?"

Elain’s chin quivered, and she looked as if she was struggling to keep herself from bursting into tears again.

She swallowed as Azriel’s words, before slowly lifting her head, forcing herself to meet his eyes with her own. “I…” She took in another shuddering breath. “I understand,” she whispered.

[ryuichirou]

How do you draw Idia’s hair so good?? I struggle with the basic shapes so much!

Sorry for the late reply! Your ask got us excited because Idia’s hair is such a pain to draw, but also such a fun detail, and I’m very happy that you like the way I draw it <3

Katsu suggested to me to record a speedpaint, and uhh, here it is. Please, don’t mind the wonky anatomy and me horsing around with zooming in and out randomly. As you can see, I struggle with Idia’s hair myself and constantly redraw it until I’m satisfied or at least tired enough to say “eh, that’ll do”. In case you’re wondering, it took me ~25-30 minutes to do the hair, and the original video was 59 min long lol I always spend a lot of time moving, reshaping and redrawing details when I draw Idia…

I’ll also list some tips and thoughts about it based on the way I draw it…

The shape of Idia’s hair is not at all consistent. Even in Toboso’s art it looks slightly different sometimes, which makes sense, because Idia has magical fire hair and technically you could do whatever you want with it.

But some rules tend to apply each time. For example, even though Idia’s hair is long and seems naturally “heavy” because of it, the individual strands tend to be turned upwards, like fire would. Not every single one, but the shorter ones and the ones closer to Idia’s head tend to do so. 

It’s wavy, but not too wavy. If the hair starts looking too “soft”, add sharp edges, random strands sticking out, rough shapes, etc.

Oh, and it’s important to remember that it floats. This means, it doesn’t just go straight down, it does this weird “S” shape. It’s also hella long, I always forget just how long Idia’s hair is. If the magic fire logic didn’t apply to it, it would reach the ground easily. The volume of his hair is much bigger than I tend to remember too: it's quite thick and luscious lol So please give him lots of hair!

Tiny little flames + “holes” in the main ehh body of hair (wow there must be a way to phrase it better) make everything look good and more believable. Have fun with it. You might’ve noticed, I draw and redraw and move them around a lot in my speedpaint.

Obviously, I am no expert, and every artist I know draws Idia’s hair a little bit differently. The speedpaint doesn’t show it, but I always have some of Toboso’s artworks of Idia open when I draw him, just to make sure his design is not too off. I would definitely recommend looking at refs while drawing Idia (or anyone), and maybe even trying to redraw the hair from Toboso’s artworks once or twice as a study, it’ll probably make it easier to understand how Idia’s hair works.

You haven’t asked about the colouring, but I love colouring Idia’s hair, so I’ll talk about it a little. Colouring Idia’s hair is simultaneously the most fun and the most tedious part of drawing him lol 15 minutes of my hour long video is just me filling Idia’s hair with the base blue colour with a lasso (I refuse to use a bucket tool…)

But once you’re done with the base, this is where the fun begins. Because at this stage you can be pretty rough, just add in darker and deeper blues near the middle/core(?) of the hair mass. It doesn’t have to be very even or pretty, add some smaller dark spots; we personally really love it when Idia has this round little blob on his bangs. In the video you can see that I added it later on because I forgot about it lol

After the dark part is done, erase the ends of it a little bit with a soft brush. Not too much, we should still be able to see the shapes.

Then, on a separate layer set on overlay mode, with the same soft brush add some additional brighter spots, to make the hair look glowy. I used the same light blue as the base colour, and the overlay gives it a pretty hue.

And finally, add some white highlights at the ends of the strands. This is the stage when everything stops looking wrong and weird and starts looking like Idia, at least to me.

Phew, I think this is everything I wanted to say… I hope it was at least somewhat helpful.

Sorry for the long post, I just love talking about the drawing process. And about Idia too!

Once again, thank you for your kind words; I’m very happy that you like my art.

Have a good day!

[peonierose]

Losing Game (4/4)

Book: Open Heart

Pairing: Bryce Lahela (M!MC) x Luna Auclair (F!OC)

Rating: Mature / Angst

TW: Mental Health

Word: 5,000+

Summary: Bryce and Luna have worked things out. But there is still one visit to make before Bryce and Luna find closure.

A/N: This has been a story that’s very dear to me. I went a bit off-canon so I hope you’ll give it a try. As always thank you to everyone who gives my stories and my characters a chance 🩷🌙

A/N 2: In case you missed the parts before here they are: Part 1, Part 2 and Part 3

A/N 3: Thank you to @annieruok94 🌷🩷 and @aallotarenunelma 🌺🩷 I hope you like the part with Adam, it was inspired by you 🥰

Side note: I also made a playlist for Part 4, (the previous two parts include a playlist as well).

The next day…

Bryce

I traded my shift with Aubrey so that I could have the day off.

I was watching Luna get dressed in a pink overall with a white shirt underneath, while I was lying in bed.

Luna turned towards me as she put her hair in a bun, a few blonde strands escaping her bun. She turned to me as I was basking in her light.

”I was thinking of visiting your dad today and I’d like to come with you if you want me to and if you feel ready for us to go together.“

I raised my eyebrows as I propped myself up against the pillow resting behind me.

”Are you sure? It’s not too much for you?“ I asked while I got out of bed.

She hugged me.

”Yes, I’m sure. Also, I love hugging you like this.“

”Any particular reason why?“ I grinned.

”This fine piece of ass. I like it.“

”Well this fine piece of ass made you feel real special last night. Also, I like this dirty side of you Lunes.“

I started to unbutton the straps of her overall but she stopped me.

”B we can’t. We’ll be late. The visiting hours aren’t that long.“

I sighed. She smiled and kissed me on my still-smiling lips.

”Really?“ I asked and tried to convince her for a quick round.

”Puppy dog eyes won’t work. Come on get dressed babe.“ She slapped my ass. I laughed out loud and got dressed.

And together we drove to prison to visit my dad.

Bryce

It’s weird to be here at the Halawa Correctional Facility, again.

The guards searched us, then gave us visitor passes and let us through. We sat at a dark grey table in the cafeteria, only one other guy was sitting down with his family from the looks of it.

I don’t think I’ve noticed anything that day. Not the color of the table or if anyone else was present. It might even be the same table I sat at the other day.

My dad walked in and they released the handcuffs and let him sit with us.

Both Lunes and I sat there as my dad walked over and sat down opposite us. He looked at me and smiled.

Then he turned to Luna and he offered his hand. Luna shook it and held onto it for a couple of seconds.

”You must be Mr. Lahela. I’ve heard so many things about you.“

I winced and tried to hide the fact that I hadn’t told Luna much. An acidic feeling rose inside of me. Recognizing it as guilt. For not telling her more about my messed up family life sooner.

But maybe I could change that and tell her everything later. I trust Luna, more than anyone. Maybe it’s time to lay all the cards on the table. Talking to Luna about my family might relieve some of the residual pain I’ve been carrying around for years.

”You must be Luna.“ My dad said and smiled at her. Luna nodded and I tuned back into the conversation.

”So Bryce has told you a lot of things about me? Like that pink is my favorite color?“ He joked but Luna didn’t know that my dad's favorite color is blue. Like mine. Well, blue-green is my favorite. I wonder why? I snicker.

”No way! I once told Bryce how good he’d look in pink scrubs. Like a deep magenta or a mauve tone. He’d be a stunner.“

My dad grinned at Luna’s enthusiasm. I haven’t seen him smile like that in a long time. Looks as if Luna can win anyone over.

”Or cherry red like that hickey.“ My dad pointed to me. I blushed down to my hair roots. Luna held out her hand for a high five and my dad smacked it.

”Hell yeah.“ Luna grinned, not embarrassed at all.

”Oh, man.“ I mumbled. She smacked me onto my arm.

”Ow that hurt.“ I rubbed the spot she smacked me.

”Man up.“ She grinned.

”Really? In front of my dad?“ I said and both Luna and my dad just laughed.

”Oh please. I’m sure your dad knows we’re sleeping together. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be pregnant.“

"Looks as if that train left the station a long time ago." My dad laughed out loud and started wiping tears from out of the corner of his eyes, Luna grins.

”I like her, she's got balls.“ My dad said.

”Dad!“ I exclaimed.

”Oh don’t worry. My delicate sensibilities weren’t hurt.“ Luna waved him off.

We kept chatting for the remainder of the visit. When it’s time to leave I help Luna when we both get up, my dad stands up as well.

”It was great meeting you Luna. I can tell you’re keeping my son on his toes.“

”Oh I sure do. Bryce is a great guy. I’m very proud of him.“ Luna said with a hint of a warning in her tone. My dad raised his eyebrows and got the message loud and clear. Then he smiled.

”She’s a keeper. Also, I’d love it if you called me Keola. Mr. feels too formal.“

Luna beamed at him.

”Sure no problem Keola. That would be nice. Would it be okay if I hugged you? You don’t have to, but I’d love a hug.“

My dad grinned and hugged her. God, what did I do to deserve someone like Luna? When they broke apart my dad waited.

”What are you waiting for? Get in here. Maybe before I become a grandfather?“

”Burn,“ Luna commented. I let out a surprised laugh and my dad and I hugged. It felt different to hug him now than it did when I was a teenager.

He felt more thin and frail. But it’s good to hug him because he’s my dad. And just like that something shifts into the right place. When we broke apart we picked up the conversation about the twins.

”We’re expecting twins in March.“ Luna said and my dad nodded happily. I can tell he’s happy. He’s got the same look in his eyes when Keiki was born.

”I have something for you.“ Luna got out a black and white picture. It’s the latest sonogram from the twins. She handed it to my dad.

”It’s an ultrasound picture of the twins. Kehlani Mae and Alaia Rose. You can keep it. We have another one.“ Luna said and my dad looked down at the picture. When he looked up, he held the picture close to his heart.

”Thank you, Luna. This means a lot to me.“ I smiled and hugged Lunes close to me. We all hugged again and then left to get to our car and drive home.

When we were inside the car I turned to Luna who looked at me. I smiled and reached into the glove compartment to get some tissues out and handed one to Luna.

”Here you go sunshine.“

She nodded in thanks and smiled at me.

”Thank you for today Lunes. I can’t even describe how much it meant to me that you went and visited my dad with me. Giving him that ultrasound picture? Making him smile like that? Man, I haven’t seen him smile as he did now in a long time. You made him so happy and me too.“

”Of course B. I’d give you one of my kidneys if it meant you’d survive.“

I smiled at her.

”B?“ She asked, looking tentatively at me.

”Yeah?“

”Can we just get some malasadas to go and then get naked?“

Which drew a surprised laugh from me. It’s like my dad said, Luna sure does keep me on my toes. But I love her, and it keeps me grounded in a way that’s hard to explain. That must be the feeling when you find the one.

”Not what I expected you to say. But sure.“

”I don’t want to ruin my overall, it's so cute.“ She said and together we drove to Leonard’s Bakery.

Bryce

We got home. Had some malasadas. And got lost in each other's touch. It was like coming home. It’s what we both needed.

We stand in our shower outside. Just holding on to each other. Like one of us is going to disappear in the next second. I felt the best when I was surrounded by water. It helped me calm down and it calmed Luna down too.

We toweled off and went into the kitchen. I stopped, putting some strands of her wet hair aside and I kissed her. Wondering how I got so lucky?

”You got so lucky because I’m awesome. And you’re my arm candy,“ she said, her tone getting lighter and I looked up at her. The shadows of pain were almost gone. I just kept looking at her.

”I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you with my actions,“ I said.

She pulled me closer.

”It’s okay B I know you didn’t mean it. And I know a relationship and love are sometimes hard to navigate. But another stunt like that and I won’t be so nice,“ she said.

”Why are you so forgiving? I thought you’d be angrier with me now?“

I asked, honestly flabbergasted.

She gnawed on her lips nervously. Ahhh. She’s been harboring a secret too.

”Spill Lunes,“ I said grinning. She looked up.

”Okay don’t be mad, but Evie sent out invitations for our wedding a couple of weeks ago and I said I’d have to ask if you wanted your mom to be there but I forgot to ask you and now your mom has gotten an invitation and I sort of didn’t ask you?“ She looked crestfallen so I pulled her close and planted a chaste kiss on her forehead.

”You were totally buttering me up. I was thinking of inviting her. Maybe even thinking of giving her and Dad a second chance. Unless they give me a reason to not trust them anymore,“ I said my voice steely.

She smiled and I knew we were good. When she kept smiling I looked at her.

”What? Any more secrets you’d like to tell me? Like how you ate the last piece of strawberry cheesecake that had my name on it?“

”That was Keiki,“ she lied and I shook my head.

We heard the door being slammed and Keiki walked in.

”You said it’s okay if we shared that piece of cake! Now I get blamed for eating the whole thing? Oh come on.“

She went into her room upstairs and slammed the door behind her. Bryce and I burst out laughing. Luna wiggled her eyebrows.

”How about we try out that hot tub we got some time ago?“

I grinned at her getting where she was going with this.

”Getting you naked is my favorite pastime,“ I said.

”Likewise,“ she replied.

We both sprinted into one of our bathrooms where we set up a hot tub. Luna's idea. The best idea she’s ever had if you don’t count on us getting together.

I got put out of my thoughts when she stood naked in front of me.

She’s been feeling unsure of her body because it started changing ever since she got pregnant.

”You‘re the most stunning woman of all time. So get that sweet butt of yours into the water,“ I said and she grinned.

”You only love me for my body,“ she grinned, getting comfortable in the water.

I huffed out a breath.

”That’s supposed to be my line,“ I said and she got closer until our bodies touched.

”Maybe you can change my mind?“ she asked.

”Oh I intend to,“ I said and kissed her until she forgot everything.

Until there’s just us and the love we shared for each other.

After a while when our fingers looked more like raisins, we got out of the hot tub. We dried ourselves and went to our bedroom. Lunes took one of my college shirts from Stanford and I just wore boxers. I turned Luna’s night light on. Illuminating the whole room, transforming it into the night sky.

When we lay in bed we almost stuck together. That’s how close we were. Needing this moment. Together. It’s what’s anchoring us.

I leaned into Lunes and sought her warmth, her comfort and she did the same for me.

Everything’s going to work out in the end, because our love is the loudest.

The next morning…

We got up, showered and lay in bed. Or well Luna was lying in bed while I was putting on some bum bum cream since she can’t reach it herself. I could feel her stare bore into me, making me smile.

”What now? Pillow talk?“ I teased and looked up at her.

”I…just wanted to ask if you’d tell me more about your parents. And what happened?“ Luna said.

I know she won’t push me, but she’d love to know more. I sigh as I put the lid back on the bum bum cream and kiss her calf. Making her laugh. One of my favorite sounds in the whole world.

”When I was younger…I don’t know, I always remember we had a lot of money. I never cared about that stuff. My parents were working in the real estate field. I wasn’t different because of it. And I didn’t act as if I was the center of attention, throwing money around.“ I sat at the edge of the bed and gathered my thoughts.

”Then there was this one night. I remember it was late and I just came back from a round of basketball with Kainalu and some of my other friends. I drove around the corner into our neighborhood in Maui and saw all these blue lights. Realizing the light was coming from police cars. Not having the faintest idea what the hell was going on.“

”Then what happened?“ Luna reached out and I helped her sit next to me.

”I saw my dad getting arrested, being put into a police car. I went inside the house like I was on autopilot. My mom came to me pulled me to the side and whispered I should take this bag from Keiki’s closet since apparently they haven’t checked that out yet. Take Keiki and get out of the house.“

”That must’ve been terrifying. I can’t imagine how you must’ve felt.“ Luna said drawing circles on my hands.

”It was horrible. I felt like I was trapped in a nightmare. Not able to wake up.“

”What happened with your parents?“

”Later I found out how we got to have all this money. It didn’t just appear out of thin air. I learned my parents made some bad investments and the people they owed money wanted their money back. Saying ”pay me back or else.“ I said remembering the court transcripts.

Luna puts a hand over her mouth.

”Oh god. What happened after that?“

I rub a strand of her blonde hair between my fingers.

”As it turns out my parents skimmed money off their clients. They had access to all the clients' private information. At first, nobody noticed anything, since it was only small amounts that disappeared and that could’ve been easily justified. But when larger sums started disappearing, they started an investigation, to find out what happened. My parents became desperate to pay the money back that they owed. But what they didn’t know was that the police set a trap and caught them red-handed.“ I sigh, sharing this part of my life was always hard for me.

As if feeling this was difficult for me, Luna turned my head towards her and smiled at me.

”You don’t have to tell me. I can see this is affecting you deeply.“

I shook my head and lightly kissed her temple.

”So if your parents got caught what happened to you and your sister? I can’t imagine you came out of this unscathed.“ She encouraged me to keep talking.

”I was finishing my last year of high school. I was one of the popular kids and became public enemy number one overnight. The other kids whose parents had lost money from my parents' schemes took their anger and frustrations out on me. It’s hardly surprising, but still, I wasn’t a part of it. Neither was Keiki. She was only what, 6-years-old? And that night my parents got arrested? It was Keiki‘s birthday. I felt so angry that they would be greedy and take some money and drag all of us into it. But I know now that maybe there’s more to the story and life isn’t always as black and white as we’d like it to be.“

Luna leaned into me to offer me some comfort, as I was telling her my deepest and darkest secret. One I’m still ashamed about, though I’m trying to make my peace with it.

”We stayed with close friends until everything was cleared. Mom was acquitted because she testified against my dad.“

”Your parents love each other B. She wanted to help him and he didn’t want her to be in prison. I’d do the same. If I could help you by not making you wear an orange jumpsuit? I’d take it.“

”You’d lie on the stand?“ I was shocked.

”Depending on what the lie would be. I’m not exactly good at lying.“ She replied. I smiled and nodded absently as if now realizing she could be right.

”You may be right.“ I said.

”What happened after?“ Luna asked.

”It didn’t get better once I started college. I asked if I could take online classes. The college board agreed because my situation was a bit delicate as they put it. But it became too much so I transferred to Stanford. Just to get out of Maui. My grades were good enough that I could justify a transfer. And they had an open spot, so I packed my stuff, and left. Keiki went to live with Mom in Maui, while I went away to Stanford. Keiki was only six and in elementary school when I left. I left everything behind and didn’t look back.“

I sighed as I was saying that.

”Do you feel guilty that you left? I mean you and Keiki made up. Do you think she still harbors hard feelings because you left?“ Luna nailed my emotional roller coaster inside of me on the head.

”I do feel a little guilty. But I hope she forgave me. I regret not being here for her. But then I wouldn’t have met such awesome friends and later on you, Lunes.“

”The love of your life. Just give this a bit of time and you’ll see things will turn around.“ She grinned and I kissed her. Simply because it made me happy.

I broke off the kiss and said into her hair.

”The love of my life has a good point.“

She grinned and I smiled against her temple and instead of talking about the past, we made memories for the future.

A week later…

I was nervous as all get out. I was never good at talking to other people about my feelings.

I knocked on a red door and when the door opened a tall man with blond hair, put in a bun, answered the door.

Adam smiled at me as I stood there like a weirdo. I smiled nervously. Waving at him. Why am I waving at him? Get a grip, Bryce! I let out a nervous breath I’d been holding in and smiled at Adam.

”Bryce. It’s good to see you man. What brings you by? Oh god, my mom would whoop my ass. Seriously, where are my manners? Come on in.“ He opened the door wider and his golden retriever Knox came closer.

”Knox. Sit. Remember, no jumping people.“ Adam said to his dog who just smiled. I didn’t know dogs could smile. Huh. You learn something new every day. I petted Knox, which earned me a lick on my hand.

I followed Adam into the kitchen and sat down on one of the chairs.

”Want something to drink? My cousin made some beer. It’s made from some native ingredients found only in Hawaii. He listed tons of those ingredients. To me, it just tastes like beer. You want some?“ His head was buried inside the fridge.

”Sounds good.“ I replied.

He resurfaced from the fridge and held out a bottle of beer. It shone like liquid gold. We both opened our bottles took a sip and whistled.

”Damn. This is some good shit.“ I said and took another sip. Tasting, honey, amber, citrus notes, and something unique. Like hibiscus? How did they incorporate that into beer?

Adam smiled.

”I’ll be sure to tell him.“ He smiled and put his beer on a nearby table.

”So what brings you by? I don’t assume this is a social call?“

”What, I can’t come visit you?“ I asked, trying to mask why I was there.

Because I feel embarrassed and ashamed for something I had no control of. But like Dr. Leslie said, letting go of the past doesn’t mean it won’t be able to hurt you anymore, it means you’re giving it less power over you.

”Look I’ll be honest. I came here to ask you for a favor. And you can say no.“ I said.

”What kind of favor?“ He regarded me carefully.

”I recently had some memories from the past come back and I realized I might need an outlet for my emotions to avoid having a panic attack during surgery.“ I told him.

”I’m sorry you’re going through a tough time. I am. I know how difficult it was when my mom died. I was angry at myself, at the world, at everyone.“ He admitted and I looked up.

”I‘m so sorry for your loss. I bet your mom was an incredible person.“ I said and peeled off the label of the beer bottle. Feeling the soft fur of Knox graze my calves. I reached and patted him and he lay down by my feet. Anchoring me in a way.

”She sure was. It took me some time to figure out how to handle my grief. And everyone handles grief and losing a loved one differently. So if there’s something I can do to help I’d be happy to.“ He said and smiled, his blue eyes sparkling.

”Can I ask what happened?“ He took another sip of his beer, turned his attention to me and asked me what I feared he might.

”My parents cheated a lot of people out of their money. And the kids at school got back at me and Keiki for it. My dad is still in prison and my mom testified against my dad so she didn’t go to jail. At that time my sister and I didn’t know what my parents did. I recently visited my dad and I don’t know. I guess I’m just not sure how to feel about this whole situation.“ That’s when I realized I'd been babbling and when I looked up I just wanted to run away. Or hide.

”First of all, I would never judge you, Bryce. I’ve got to know you over the last couple of months. You're a kind, supportive guy. Who’s hard-working and loves his family. You’re a good person. Don’t let past mistakes by other people define who you are at your core.“ He said and I breathed out. Before I could say anything he continued.

”And don’t worry whatever you tell me stays between us. You don’t have to worry that I’d spill the beans to anyone. I’m really sorry this happened to you. I never thought you’d gone through something like that. So what is it exactly I could help you with? I’m not exactly good with therapy sessions.“ He smiled gently.

”I worked something out for therapy. But…I…uh…I‘d love it if maybe I could work on some projects here with you. If you need any help. I know I’m not exactly qualified or anything. But maybe I could use your workshop in the beginning. I promise I won’t make a mess. Years of doing surgeries have made me a very organized person. At least in the OR room.“

Adam grinned.

”You got it. Use the space however you like. It’s yours. If I do need some help I’ll let you know. As a matter of fact, I could use your help. I found this dresser at an antique store and I’d love to restore it to its former glory. The wood carving is beautiful, I think it’s made out of Koa wood. It would be perfect for Maxine actually.“

He blushed and I smirked.

”So essentially two birds one stone?“ I asked and he nodded. That’s when I noticed how different he looked when Maxine’s name was mentioned. I wondered what I look like when I talk about Luna. Probably like a sappy fool. But probably a really happy one.

”You really love her do you?“ I asked and it dawned on me, how much his eyes conveyed his genuine love and respect for Maxine.

”Yes I do. Maxine is a special woman. Hopefully, I’ll be able to make her happy for the rest of my life.“

”I’ll drink to that. To love and good friendships.“ I said and we clinked our glasses together and just enjoyed a nice view of a Hawaiian sunset.

Life is hard but you make the best out of it every single day.

[asha-mage]

The Warrior in the Woods [RWBY]

>:C

[Send me in an Ask with one my WIP titles from this post, and I'll post a snippet of it and tell you a bit about it!]

Listen. Listen. It's ON THE LIST okay. I just have to work more on my posted WIPs first. Also probably need to rewatch RWBY at some point.

This is my 'Jaune and Adam are stranded together in the frozen tundras of northern Anima circa v5 au and have to work together to survive, causing Jaune to learn Adam's messy history and get a new perspective on him, and forcing Adam to question a lot of his assumptions about the cruelty of the world now that he has his lowest point and finally encountering someone who seems to just be good in a uncomplicated straightforward way, but is a human which runs so hard against Adam's lived experience that he doesn't know how to deal with it' au

(I wonder sometimes if my inability to sum up my ideas in a succulent fashion is why so many of my works use references and song lyrics as working titles)

Anyways-

Jaune stood there, staring at Adam who lay on the ground, motionless. The snow had not stopped falling, if anything the storm was growing more intense as the moments passed and Adam’s body started to collect a light dusting of snow, his gray clothing quickly covered in a layer of faint sparkling white. Jaune could faintly hear the strident cries of the huge Strix, likely still circling up there somewhere overhead. And the huge Cereian would be  back for revenge as well, soon enough. Jaune’s best chance was to find shelter in the castle and wait them both out, while his Aura recovered. But if he had to drag an unconscious Adam on his shoulders while he did that, his chances of making it through the next few hours would go down sharply. But Adam’s chances of surviving if Jaune left him here, were nothing. You don’t owe him anything. He only worked with you to save his own skin, then only with his teeth clenched the whole time. Jaune told himself. He tried to kill you. He dropped you to your death. He ambushed you while you were fighting Grimm. He helped Salem at Beacon and Haven, and has probably killed dozens, maybe hundreds of innocent people. He hurt Blake. He hurt Yang. He wants to hurt everyone. No one is here to judge you, and if they were they wouldn’t. He’s a monster. But you are a Huntsmen. A voice that sounded a lot like Pyrrha’s whispered in the back of his mind. And Huntsmen do not leave people to die. Jaune exhaled and forced his feet to walk forward. He leaned over to dust off some of the snow from Adam’s body, and gave a start as he realized the blindfold had fallen the rest of the way off, exposing his left eye. The pale skin around it was twisted and gnarled red as if it had been burned, the darkest pieces raised into rough ridges that spelled something out. SDC. Schnee Dust Company. Jaune felt his skin prickle, his stomach lurching in horror at the sight. So this was why he had worn the Grimm Mask, and then the blindfold. Before Jaune could stop himself he had reached out to thumb open the eye, and instead of icy blue a pale milky white iris and pupil stared back at him, filmed over the way a corpse’s eye was filmed over, the whites so blood shot they seemed red. Jaune pulled back his hand as if burned and felt the urge to shiver for reasons that had nothing to do with the cold. He steeled himself, and gently as he could manage, rewrapped the blindfold around Adam’s eyes. He had chosen not to show this to the world, and Jaune felt the need to respect that. Then he lifted the other man into his arms, feeling a stab of surprise at how light he was, and set out to look for a place they could shelter, before the cold and the Grimm killed them both.

I've always had this weird soft spot for Adam/Jaune, because I genuinely think their dynamic could be fascinating and challenging to both characters, and also I am huge sucker for dark knight x paladin style relationships (Someone whose power is draw from anger and rage at a unjust cruel world, who can believe in their strength to see them safe, and a person whose power is drawn from an ideal, tirelessly working to create a world where their isn't suffering and pain and refusing to let either thing burn them down- delicious). I defiantly want to return to this work and flesh it out properly. Probably will once Vol 10 finally drops and I descend back into RWBY hell.

[hotwings0203]

I feel like Dabi would be the type of dude who would bully you incessantly at the LOV and for the life of you you can’t figure out why. He’s always around you and making snarky comments or pulling your hair, trying to catch you messing up on missions. You’re sure he hates you, and you do well to stay out of his way, or sometimes when you feel bold you’ll offer a quip of your own. The bullying increases whenever you talk to other guys at the bar, especially when you make Tomura crack a smile, Dabi’s breathing down your neck the second your leader leaves, calling you terrible names and pushing past your boundaries.

Cw: language, nsfw, noncon, manga spoilers, some angst?

In a perfect world, Touya would not have been abandoned and rejected by his family. In a perfect world, Dabi would not exist, and Touya would be eating dinner with his family right now as he shows his little brother how to properly wield fire to its fullest extent.

But there was no such thing as a perfect world, and therefore Dabi did exist. And Dabi doesn’t care for anyone, or anything.

Or so he tells himself.

“Slut”

“Nothing but eye candy, and shitty eye candy at that”

It’s nothing you haven’t heard before, but it doesn’t make it any easier to ignore him

“What was that all about, huh? The fuck are you and crusty snickering about?”

Fed up with his continuous antics, you decide to mouth off a little too.

“Oh nothing, just talking about how adorable you and Hawks would make as a couple. And wipe that sneer off your face, it looks like some of your staples fell out of your mouth.”

It’s nothing too snarky, but in a second he’s shoving you in some dark room, forearm pinned against your throat as his hand is lit up with blue flames merely inches away from you, snarling in your face.

“You wanna be funny, bitch? I got jokes of my own too, why dont I show you what happens to dumb little girls who don’t know their fucking place? I think that would be real funny.”

But his hand is stopped from drawing near your wide eyes when you both hear Twice and Toga calling everyone for their next meeting.

He pushes you away from him, giving you a murderous look over his shoulder as he leaves the room, not paying mind to the way you slide down the wall in the dark.

You take extra precaution to try avoiding him for the next few days, not even making eye contact with him when you two get teamed up for tasks. He never mentions the room incident, if anything he acts as if it never happens. It’s like whiplash for you, he tries to weirdly talk to you more but all you offer him is mumbles and hums of agreement.

The conversation is never long, but it starts to be less talk of degrading you and more of begrudging questioning of what you’ve been up to. You never engage, opting to pretend like you never heard him, and strangely enough he leaves it be.

You give him a side eye one day as he joins you at the bar (much to your discontent), downing your glass just to fill another.

He says nothing as he slides into the stool right next to you, and pours a glass of whiskey for himself as well.

It’s awkwardly silent, you’re not sure if you should leave or not, but you’d be damned if you try to initiate small talk with this psycho.

But then, he speaks.

“Is Shigaraki sending you on the mission to get that UA kid?”

His gravely voice rumbles and cracks from his usual lack of use, and he clears his throat after he talks.

“No.”

“Oh.”

This is excruciating, you think to yourself as he mulls over the drink in his hand for a silent minute or two.

Toga calls you over thankfully at the exact same moment, and you breathe out an inaudible sigh of relief as you slip off the stool to join her.

“Wait-“ Dabi grabs your arm and you flinch out of instinct, expecting a slap or a burn to come from him.

He sees your reaction and shakes his head dismissively, letting you go and muttering a “Nevermind”. You don’t ponder over it as you trip over your own feet to join the eccentric blond.

A week passes, and then two. With each day you maneuver your way around him, request to be partnered up with different people in private, and busy yourself in random tasks. Every time you pass him by the bar he lifts his head from whatever he’s doing and tries to maintain eye contact with you, even going so far as to open his mouth to say or ask god-knows-what.

You try to ignore the foreign hopeful glint in his glacial eyes as you walk right past him, ducking your head as you do so.

It drives Dabi crazy.

He can’t handle any more rejection, he thought his family would be the last straw for him to ever want recognition or love validation from again. He wants to talk to you, to hear your voice as it snaps back with witty comebacks of your own that he secretly enjoys so much, even if it means he has to force it out of you with hateful words. He wants to feel your hair underneath his scarred hands, even if he has to mask the soft wanting of you in forms of yanking the strands. He wants nothing more than to see your eyes fill up with no other sight than him and think only of him, even if it means he has to corner you and scare you into submission.

But your silence is something he’s not used to.

Well, to be fair, you weren’t silent completely, but the only sentences he was hearing from you nowadays was when you were speaking to Shigaraki or the other League members.

You were the only idiot who didn’t notice the smoke curling from his nostrils and ears comically when he’d finally see you stop your stoic act just to open up to other men apart from him. Spinner, Twice, and Compress backed off almost immediately from talking to you for too long when they’d see the look on his face as he watched you surrounded by them, but Tomura would merely smirk from behind your shoulders and keep a level gaze with his subordinate, knowing fully well why he was so pissed off.

You began to notice the weird energy at the base soon after the rest of the men would keep curt conversations with you in comparison to your long talks about video games, sex, and life after you would all win the war.

So you thought it would be best to ask the most semi-normal person there that wasn’t fueled with testosterone and aggression.

“I just don’t get it, why are they all being weird? I mean, we all used to talk so much and now they just...try avoiding me. Except for Tomura of course, he’s still normal I guess. But he always has this smirk on his face when I’m with him and I can’t figure out why.”

Toga stops cleaning her blood-laced needle to give you a sly look, all fangs and glinting white.

“And Dabi?”

“What about him?”

She sits back on her haunches and cocks her head at you. “You really don’t know what’s happening here, do ya?”

“No,” you roll your eyes in exasperation. “But I’ll gladly take any theories here, since apparently I’m the only one who doesn’t get it.”

“He likes you.”

You gape at her for a moment and then burst out laughing.

“What? That’s crazy, he doesn’t like me, he hates me!” He can barely stand being in a room with me, all he does is talk shit and harass me.”

The blond curiously licks at a bead of red from the top of the weapon and you cringe when her own tongue rips from the sharp point.

“You say he can’t stand being in a room with you, so then why is it that he’s always there? He might talk shit, but he talks to you out of everyone else right? Regardless of if it’s something mean.”

You’re thoroughly flabbergasted. She had a point, but it was too much to wrap your head around. She cheerfully hums and gets up to flounce around the room, cleaning her already-tidy room up to a T.

“And that little silent treatment act you’re giving him isn’t helping either. I swear, Jin told me Dabi almost burned his mouth off that one day you, him and Spinner were talking about GTA. He totally cornered the poor guy and threatened his life if he didn’t stop talking to you.”

“You’re joking.”

“Am not. He wanted to do the same to Tomura but I figure he wants to keep his job, so he won’t. Doesnt make it any better for him when you’re all chummy with the one person Dabi can’t stand the most, though.”

No wonder your leader was so smug whenever you two were in the same room, your attention solely focused on him.

You run your hands down your face, moaning about the whole situation being fucked. It’s just your luck that you couldn’t take a clue, but to be fair, how could you? Being called worthless and a waste of space wasn’t exactly what you had in mind for flirty banter.

“Soooo what’re you gonna do now? I heard he’s gonna try talking to you for realsies like, tomorrow or something.”

“Tomorrow?” You yelp, jumping up to your feet. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I can’t face him!”

“Oops,” she giggles, twirling with outstretched arms around her room and falling down onto her bed.

“Oh god, I can’t do this. I don’t even know if I like him! He’s such an ass, and even when he tries to come off as normal he’s just so..unsettling. I don’t think I’ve ever had a good conversation with him.”

Toga props her elbow up to rest her chin on her hand, frowning in thought.

“Why not just tell him how you feel?”

You snort and fold your arms. “Yeah, because the psycho arsonist is really gonna take the word no well.”

“Hmm.. I see what you mean. Oh well, whatever you choose, I’ll support you!”

And with that she skips out of the room sing songing for Twice to make a clone for her.

You were fucked.

And sure enough, the next day he approaches you, hands stuffed in his pockets and an almost bored look on his face.

“Yo newbie, I gotta talk to you for a second. Come with me”.

You look blearily up at him through eye bags and mussed hair, a direct telling of your sleepless night. Your stomach drops when you hear his words, but you nod your head and take a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself of the speech you practiced till the sun rose.

No one else is bothering you both today, Shigaraki having gone to visit All For One and the rest of the League left to their own devices. It was something you weren’t so comfortable with, but you doubted a hero would come to save you.

He leads you through the short winding hallways, each step of his growing louder and heavier as the space started growing smaller. Finally, he reaches a dimly lit room and stops outside the door, gesturing for you to go in with a casual wave of his patched wrist.

“After you.”

You raise an unsure eyebrow at his uncharacteristic show of consideration, and do as he says. You’re sweating bullets, fists balled so that your nails are digging into your palms, and vision going in and out of focus as your eyes begin to adjust to your surroundings.

A loud bang pulls you out of your stupor, and you whip around at the sound.

Dabi is already staring back at you with lidded eyes, leaning his weight against the door, his arms crossing over each other.

You shift on both feet, picking at your nails nervously.

“So, what did you wanna talk about?”

He says nothing, but just observes you, his head slightly tilted as if you were some abstract art piece.

“Dabi.”

“You got a lot of nerve, y’know that?”

He pushes himself off the wall and advances slowly towards you, hands stuffed in his trench coat pockets.

You immediately back up with raised palms, sputtering indignantly at his offensive movements coming closer and closer. However you thought his ‘confession’ would go, this was most definitely not starting out like how you planned

“Excuse me? What’re you talking about-“

“I know what you’re doing. You think whoring yourself out to ol’ crusty and the rest of the guys here is gonna make everyone forget just how useless you actually are. What the fuck do you even do here? You fuck up half the missions which I have to come bail your ass out of, you constantly put us in jeopardy by being all friendly with everyone, and you can’t even keep your mouth shut when I need to let off a little steam, as I rightfully should.”

In a perfect world, Dabi would be the light of your eyes, the hero of your world. In a perfect world, Dabi would be able to hold your hand in his smooth one and tell you that he wants you so much that it impairs his rational judgement and makes him say things he doesn’t mean. He’d tell you that your presence is like a weight lifted off his chest, your presence means he doesn’t have to think or worry about the outside world, he just wants you all to himself without anyone interfering.

But this is not a perfect world, and Dabi is not a hero, but rather one of the worst villains.

So he does exactly what one does as a villain.

Instead of a loving look that he knows he’s incapable of, Dabi looks down into your horrified gaze as he traps you against the wall between his scarred arms, spewing misplaced venom at you.

“I don’t know what your problem is, but you need to chill out. First you go ballistic on me ‘cause I talked to Tomura for no reason, then you act all weird and quiet as if you’re some decent person, and now you think you can just bring me in here and tell me how worthless I am? Go fuck yourself, seriously.”

You scoff and make your way to push him but stop when he does what he did a couple weeks ago. You hold bated breath as he casually brings an inflamed hand to scratch at his face as if he can’t feel the hellfire emitting from it, and let out a whine of distress as he lowers his head mere inches from yours, lips almost touching.

“Stop talking to the rest of the guys,” he breaths. “Stop smiling, laughing, or going near anyone who isn’t me.”

You wonder if he knows how insane he sounds. He does, but that’s nothing he doesn’t know already. If anything, it solidifies in his mind that if he is to be as bad as the world has made him out to be, then he is acting exactly fit for the role.

“Why?”

“I don’t need to give sluts like you a reason. It should come as easy, right? What’s putting out for one more person?”

Your eyes are brimming with tears now, your stoic facade showing cracks as you sniffle a little bit.

He eats it up and groans watching salty rivers cascade down your cheeks. Suddenly, he feels as though he can no longer hold back anymore, he feels as though if he thinks for one more second he’ll combust.

So, acting on instinct, he surges forward and presses his lips against yours, swallowing your cries of distress and holding your hands above your head in midst of them frantically beating on his chest.

Your lips are so, so soft compared to his and it’s making him sink deeper into this instinctual daze. He puffs against your writhing lips as he thrusts his hot tongue in your mouth.

You try to bite him but when his hands heat up against your skin you resign to your fate and wail, allowing him to pull his hips flush against yours and start humping your thighs.

He draws back and bites your lips, teeth clacking against yours as he does so. You open your terrified eyes and blanch when you see the look on his face.

Lust is clearly drawn everywhere, from his blown pupils to his heaving chest, all the way to his flushed face and wild eyes. He looks as though he’s about to eat you alive and it’s appropriate that you feel like a lamb about to be slaughtered.

“Dabi, wait, please stop-“

But he cuts your pants off again in favor of slamming his hips against yours again and grinding impossibly hard on your legs, the friction of his jeans catching on your clothed cunt and forcing a mewl out of you.

“I’m not gonna stop. I’ve had enough of you teasing. You’re mine now, and if it takes burning our dear leader alive and this whole place down for you to understand that then I’ll fucking do it.”

He thought that terrorizing you would ease the empty feeling in his heart, that continuously berating you would force him to see you as what he always said you were, just another empty headed cunt. He thought that distancing himself from you and focusing on other things would make him forget about the soft feelings he longed to share with you, feelings he thought perished in the fire he was in when he was a young boy .

Even now, there is an ache in his chest as he hears you beg for him to stop, to let you go, that you’re sorry for whatever you did.

But this is not a perfect world, and not everyone gets their way in life.

You should really learn that, because Dabi already has.

And so Dabi will act accordingly to what life has put out before him .

[raggaraddy]

hello if you want you can ignore this of course but I was wondering what would vampire Hoseok do if he found out someone turned oc? Your fics are amazing by the way!

Bitten to death

A/N: Thank you for your request :) It was fun to write. However I took it less as a reaction, and more of a story prompt. So it's not exactly a conclusive answer to your question. I hope you still like it, though ^-^ 💜💜💜

Summary: You thought you knew everything about Vampires but when you wake up one you learn there are some important things you did not know. And it's only going to let worse once you learn why you were turned.

Trigger Warnings: Blood, death, maiming, choking, violence, mind control, abduction, yandere themes.

Vampire! Hoseok

It was like a horror story within your already horrific story. Some man you've never met before broke into Hoseok's house when only you were there. While you screamed and fought and instinctively called for Hoseok, he covered you in bites unlike any other you had felt before. Ones that made you suffer as if fire was coursing through your veins. You wish that you could say you were strong enough that your fight had some kind of impact. But in truth, it was over after only a few seconds. And it was in those few seconds that you felt your chest burning and your breath fill your lungs for the last time.

Waking you're met by the stranger hovering above you. Your head aching and your body throbbing in ways you had never experienced before. With a quick glance, you can see everything around you, and that does mean everything. Every single little detail. And the information is overwhelming.

Your mind feels as if it's breaking from everything you're taking in. For as far as you can see there are pallets and long isles of shelves lined up, the contents on every rack crystal clear. You can hear the sound of his shoes on the concrete and the dirt gritting underneath, and how each peak of sound travels and bounces off the farthest point in the warehouse. Even the smells, there are hundreds of them all hitting you at once. A few you know like the fragrance of the treated wood or the oils stain, but others you couldn't guess at. It's as if all of your senses are on high and you have no way to focus them.

Despite your panic, no matter how much you want to run, you can't. Laying on your back with your arms spread out to either side of you and your legs held together, you're being bound by the thinnest most delicate length of silver chain. Though, it's not tied. It's only draped over you, but still holding you as if it were stronger than any steel. Burning you as if it were touched by the sun.

You may have only seen a few newly made vampires before, but you have still been around them enough and know enough about their existence to recognize how and why your body feels wrong. And absurdly you can't help but feel betrayed. This was not supposed to happen to you. It was the only safety you got from belonging to someone who was called The Immortal King, and The Origin of Cruelty. No one was supposed to be foolish enough to steal from him, and most importantly, no one was supposed to be able to hurt you. But now because Hobi didn't keep you safe, he's now lost his blood supply and you've lost your humanity.

The stranger snaps his fingers, the sound bursting in your eardrums making you groan and wince as he repeats it. "Focus your attention on just this one sound. On just the sight of my hand. Feel the air around it." He coaxes you, snapping again. The noise echos dozens of times, ricocheting off every wall. The dull thud of his fingertips hitting his palm only sounding the once though.

Opening your eyes your concentration goes to the hand held above your face as he said, the space around it blurring. On the back of his pointer finger on an otherwise porcelain complexion, you notice a small patch of dry skin just below his knuckle. Clear blue-black defined veins wrapping the back of his palm. He clicks his fingers again and you catch the sound of friction from the way his finger rubs down his thumb, feeling the most minuscule shift in the air created by his motion.

The pinpointed attention helps for a moment, but then you shift your eyes to his face and the explosion of information overpowers you again. His hold comes around your neck keeping your head from turning. The tight pressure on your throat while stifling your movement, nearly makes you smile. There's no airflow to restrict. Your chest isn't heating, your body isn't convulsing trying to breathe. Even in this tense moment, you can't help but find it humorous, thinking how many times over the years had you wished for this exact thing when Hobi had squeezed the air from you.

"Watch my eyes," on his words your vision becomes immersed in them. They're piercing blue. Made up of streaks of white interlacing with a clear sapphire shade, like thousands of threads made out of the purest tropical ocean. A transparent irregular line encircling his pupil, and beyond that every distinct strand blurs together with the others until it reaches the shadowed grey edge that holds the circular shape. Slowly his jet black pupils dilate, stretching and filling his entire iris till every trace of colour is removed. As if transfixed, you're unable to close your own eyes, a flooding of bright light filling your field of view. The strength of it is so intense that the tendons in your sockets ache and your eyes begin to water. Tears rolling down the sides of your face, cresting in your ears.

"Apologies, you are only my second." He confuses you with a vague explanation you did not ask for. The black finally receding into its natural size. Your own eyes scrunching as you try to blink away the soreness. The bizarre occurrence leaving you feeling drained of strength, filling you with anxiety caused by the uncertainty, which is only worsened by the glimmer of triumph in his gaze.

Searching past him to the ceiling your brain is again processing the whole image instead of the sum of its parts. The strain in your head slowly fading, your tight held muscles releasing as everything begins to normalize. You don't know what he did, but it seemed to help.

He doesn't back away, continuing to invade your personal space. Although, the way his fingers are trailing along your skin while you're restrained on the floor is still not the worst thing he has done to you. Seeing as he killed you.

"I had almost given up hope that Jung Hoseok would love." His hand daintily caresses along your neck and up your jaw. Your eyes shutting as his fingertips run over your lips. "I began to fear it might not be something possible for him." He divulges, his touch still aimlessly wandering.

The way he speaks you can feel his vailed anger. Despite his soft words, this is not someone who cares about Hoseok's wellbeing, this is someone who hates him deeply.

"However, you restored my lost faith. And for that, I would like to thank you, Inamorata."

He thinks Hoseok loves you? Is he crazy?. He's possessive of you, that is all. Even in moments of deception or weakness when you had told him that you loved him, he's never said it back with any sincerity. And he has never said it of his own accord.

"Sir," your eyes reopen. "I think you've misunderstood. These," you weakly gesture to the silver, each slight movement searing the links deeper into your flesh. "aren't necessary. We are on the same side. I hate Hobi, more than anyone."

"Truly?" He asks tilting his head to the side. His white hair messily hanging across his forehead.

"Yes," you nod trying to insist your point. "He's kept me locked up for years." you chuckle dryly. Finding it nearly risible that all of this is because this man believes in a fantasy.

"Well then, you are free to rise," he nods resolutely. Plucking the chains out of your melted skin as you grit your teeth. The sound of the sizzle on his own skin baffling you as to how he can even lift them.

Sitting up you gently pull your limbs in, inspecting the blistered and bloody marks. The skin on your wrists already starting to intricately knit itself back together.

"Come here." The stranger calls from a rested place on one of the pallets to your right.

Standing, it is a bit hard to walk with your ankles still cut up but you make it to him decently. Looking around you, you can see the sun streaming in from the high windows that line the whole length of the warehouse. It's enough to light up the otherwise dark space, but with the sheer size of this place, the beams of sunlight do not get close to the two of you in the centre. Still in the middle of the day, it means Hobi can't get to you. Not easily at least. So you're on your own for now.

"Kneel." He instructs plainly. And you follow, lowering onto your knees in front of him. Your only thoughts are of escape. You may be in your first minutes as a vampire, but it should be simple to move quickly. It always seemed like something that came easily to them. "Inamorata, you will call me Master." he declares abruptly.

"Yes, Master." You smile confusedly. Inamorata? Why does he keep calling you that? You're unsure if it's a name or a title, but it's weirding you out.

Your face drops, your heart thumping, realizing what you said. The words you just spoke replaying in your head. You hadn't meant to say that.

Why did you say that?

In fact, why had you knelt? Why were you doing what he said at all?

With a gaped mouth you climb back to your feet. "Look, I think-um." You start not knowing what you want to say.

"Kneel." He orders again more forcefully yet with a knowing, jovial smirk. You shake your head hard, staying upright. You're not going to let him order you around. He has to be kidding.

Your brows furrow, your mouth drops open, and your forehead tightens as your knees bend against your wishes. You drop back into your knelt position. Grunting as your jaw clenches, your fingers digging into your legs, doing your best to resist without success.

Your eyes go wide in shock.

"Good. Now stay there," his voice makes your stomach drop. But your muscles relax, your shoulders dropping and your bottom lowering on your calves. Your body resting in this position.

This is nothing you have ever seen before. It's nothing that you knew was possible. It shouldn't be possible. On top of all the horrible advantages they already have, you're sure you would have known if mind control was one of them!

"How?" You gape, shaking your head in disbelief. "Why?"

"Why?" a smile fills his face, "What you have told me is far different than what I had heard." He stands and turns, tapping his foot against the top pallet sending it and its boxed contents flying. He grabs at the bottom slats of wood underneath and drags them closer to you with a horrid screeching on the concrete. Sitting back down he is now much lower and much nearer to you. So much so that his legs spread straight out on either side of you. "See, I had heard stories of the self-proclaimed King of Vampires, who had fallen in love with his human pet. That he kept her close, kept her safe, and drank from her exclusively."

"That's not love." you interrupt with a scoff, "That's imprisonment."

"Well, let us see what the truth is. Tell me honestly, Jung Hoseok's little Inamorata, do you love him?"

"Yes." You're mouth answers before your mind has time to think. "No!" you instantly correct.

The smile grows larger on his face "And what do you feel about him?"

"I'm scared of him. But I care for him." The words are pouring out of you uncontrollably, your face placifying as you speak. "and I miss him when he isn't home."

"And does he love you?"

"I think so, yes." You wish you could make yourself shut up! Your calm tone drops and you bite your jaw trying to take back your own body, growling as you do. "No! He doesn't." you snarl in a rapid shift.

"You think so? Then my last question; Do you want him to love you?" He asks satirically.

"Yes," The word slips out. Being accepted joyously from him. "You can't just make me say anything you want!" you shout. Your body is rigid and stiff as you think to stand with nothing happening.

"I did not," he chuckles, "I made you say what you believe is true."

"No, you didn't! Tha-" his finger raises to his lips shushing you, cutting you off like your voice had disappeared.

That is not how you feel! Hobi may have gotten better as time has gone on, but he is still cruel and malicious and heartless. The only thing this man is doing is speaking to your primal brain. The part of you that gave into its survival instinct and it's the part that you fight every day to repress so that you stay in control. You can't love him, it's not possible.

"Ha, you are far more amenable than my last. I can hardly feel any resistance." He mocks, tapping his temple. "And I recall Jung Hoseok trying to move heaven and earth to break free. Even Mansueto struggled to contain him. But you," he reaches down holding out his hand and you follow his gesture, your body moving independently to accept it. "You are a broken little thing."

You don't understand his ridicule. You're not moving consciously. Your own mind isn't connected to your actions. So you can't fathom how your body is even reacting, let alone how you should be able to fight it.

"Stop." You complain, your voice coming out with far less strength than you had intended. "Look, Hoseok doesn't have my blood anymore, okay. So just leave me out of whatever fucked up feud you have you have going with him."

"No, that is not enough." his tone becomes suddenly harsh. He lifts his hand and you stand as he raises it. "He stole someone precious to me and he must feel the same agony of loss."

"You're wrong." you swallow, working to overcome your nerves, "I'm sorry, but you just are. He doesn't love me. I'm not precious." You try to reason, seeing your pleas falling on an unreceptive man.

"We will see."

The sun has barely set before you hear commotion beyond the metal walls.

You had tried over and over to pry information from this man, to convince him to let you leave. But you were unable to gather so much as a name from him, and clearly, you failed to be let go. After a certain point of ignoring you, he stopped you from speaking altogether. Not allowing you to say a word until he permits it. More than that though, he filled your head with many instructions. Telling you how to behave in anticipation of Hoseok's arrival.

100 meters in front of you the locked doors are ripped off their hinges, a dozen men and women pouring into the warehouse with inhuman speed. But as if time slows down your eyes adjust and you can see them, see their movements with full clarity. Hoseok comes in last and straight down the middle into the open square that you all occupy. And you must admit, you are genuinely happy to see him. Now you just want him to hurry up and get you out of here.

The man steps forward to meet them while you are sat on the stack of pallets behind him. Your only instruction at this time is to sit quietly and wait for him to call you. Hating the feeling of being restrained by your own body.

Watching them all lineup versus a single man, you find it comical how outmatched he is.

Hobi always said that when he got tired of playing with your human body, he was going to turn you. And he was furious if anyone robbed him of even your smallest reactions, so clearly, he was going to be beyond pissed that someone sped up his plan, and took your death away from him.

"That's mine," Hoseok puffs up his chest, looking past the man's shoulder to you. 

The only thing that's confusing you, though, is if this man knows who The Vampire King is, why he didn't expect to be met with hell on earth, and why he didn't prepare better.

"Jung Hoseok, always so impolite. Do you not think you should greet an old friend after so many years?"

"We can talk all you like, Kol," Hoseok snarls, finally giving a name to your killer. "Once I get my property back."

"I think you'll find this is my belonging now." he chuckles in a brief pause. Hoseok's expression darkens, his eyes becoming murderous. The fury around him actually making you shiver. "Do you like the modifications I made? She is much more durable now."

Supposedly, Hobi's already noticed your change, because he doesn't look at you again. Instead, the two men have an intense staredown. All of the vampires on his side looking ready to kill on a word.

"And far more obedient. Come here," Kol calls you, holding his hand out at shoulder height for you to take. Moving automatically, you jump down from the stack of wooden pallets placing your fingers on his palm.

Unable to stand the rage on Hoseok's face you look down, just missing the exact moment he charges. But you see an instant later as he is thrown back like a paper doll into four stories of shelves, his weight bringing the metal, the shelves, and the products down on top of him as the whole structure collapses. His men looking as startled as you to see Hoseok so easily discarded.

Before the toppling construction settles, Kol breaks from your side and an incredible, horrible scene breaks out. His speed is something you can't follow, even now. You only see the trail of destruction when he stops. One after the other, he made his way through half of the vampires, ripping them apart. Literally tearing some in two halves. Decorating the square with blood and innards.

The others are as belated and overwhelmed as you, only just having the sense to react as his blurred image stops. When he advances again, this time he doesn't use his quickness for an advantage and simply ploughs through them. They attack all at once, and still as they grab and strike at him, their forces barely move him. And his response is terrifying.

You can only bear to watch the first one. Kol's fist driving through a woman's chest, the horrid cracking of her ribs as he tears it back out making you want to scream. But his orders have you completely silent. Instead, you close your eyes, sealing your hands over your ears. Trying to block out the violent sickening sounds of his destructive rampage.

There's a last thud before it falls quiet again. Your eyes springing open to see as horrific of a sight as you had imagined. He's dripping in blood. Drenched in it. And Hoseok's people are strewn in every which way. Not a single one having survived.

Sauntering through the sea of dead bodies, he makes his way to the side where Hoseok is unmoved, tossing away the beams and panels as if they were nothing. Grabbing him by the ankle, he drags him from the rubble into the clear space in front of you. The man you once thought of as the most powerful in existence, and his troupe of vampires, was completely demolished in mere seconds of work. And you can only watch on with your body shaking. Your hopes of rescue decimated. Your chest aching with worry, even for Hobi's sake.

"Now that it's a more intimate number of us, should we talk?" Kol releases him, brushing past you as he sits where you had before. His action triggering an instruction he provided earlier, forcing you to follow him and kneel at his feet.

Sitting up, Hoseok rubs the back of his hand against a large gash under his eye. The ferocity not having left his mannerisms. "You disappear for 90 years, and you show up to what, gimmie a blood bath." His laugh falls into a grimace as he stands himself back up.

"I was created in the 13th century and you brought infants to a fight with me. What did you think would happen?" Kol asks scornfully.

"I was hoping they would do a little better," He smirks, shrugging off their deaths. "Okay, that's my bad. But still, that doesn't tell me what you want. Or did you just want to remind me that you're still alive?" He taunts, his sardonic nature returning, "Remind me that you're still pissed and you can kick my ass. Good job. You put on quite a show." he smiles, his tongue running over his fangs as he gestures around at the gruesome display. "But she," he points to you with two fingers, bitterness lacing his next words, "is worth nothing to you."

"Oh, she is worth everything to me," Kol slides forward, his hand brushing down the back of your neck, "because she is worth everything to you."

On those words, you get the most heart-wrenching sight. A pang of insecurity shows up in Hoseok's eyes. Uncertainty and something so close to fear. The smile fading as he looks him up and down.

"I am curious, though, Vampire King, do you think she will detest the Sire bond as greatly as you did?" he punctuates the question, tugging your head back by your hair. "If I treat her as Mansueto treated you, how long do think until she breaks?"

With immense speed, Hoseok splinters one of the wooden crates near him, lunging at Kol, aiming to drive the shard into his heart with a roar. But he's caught before his hand ever plunges forward. Instead, Kol takes the sharp wood and spikes it into Hoseok's stomach. Continuing to dominate him with a solid blow, knocking him off his feet, smacking him into the concrete in front of you. Stepping down, he swings his foot punting Hoseok in the chest hurling him back among the remains of his fallen creations.

You had thought if you ever saw Hobi being handled as roughly as he treated you, that you would enjoy the Karma of it. But seeing him so easily immobilized is making you sick with fear and mostly sadness.

With Kol having stood, you're no longer bound on your knees and you scramble to your feet. You want to run to Hoseok's side but before you have the chance Kol drags you into him, his hand wrapped around your waist, his other crudely brushing the hair from off the side of your face.

"Call out to him. Tell him your every feeling." He hushes the order in your ear.

"Hobi!" you yell, not sure you would have even needed to be compelled to want to shout for him. "Get up, please. I'm scared. I wanna go home!"

"Go to him," Kol releases you and you sprint to his side, hardly able to slow your sudden frantic speed.

Doubled over Hoseok is bleeding profusely. He needs your blood- but you can't do that anymore. And you have no idea what to do. You don't know how to help him or how to get out of here. He's the one that is supposed to keep you safe.

Coming from behind you, Kol bends down shoving you out of the way to lift Hoseok by the throat. "Stop!" you follow their movement, hanging on Kol's arm. "Stop! Please." But you have no effect. Instead, he jerks the wood dagger out making Hobi yell in pain.

"Do you recall what you said as you killed our Sire?" Kol whispers maliciously. "You told me that 'I will get over it'." Releasing him, he lets Hoseok plummet to the floor and you drop with him trying to catch his weight. "In 100 years from now, I'll let you see her again and you can tell me if you were able to take your own advice." he smiles spitefully.

"Hobi," you whine lowly. Brushing his hair from his sweat and blood wet forehead. "I don't want to go with him. Rather the devil you know, right," you softly chuckle, trying to pull his energy back.

Even though you know the both of you have no chance at the moment, you guess you're just looking for an affirmation that he isn't going to let you go and let this other man keep you for the next century.

"Please," you whisper, your waterline filling with tears.

Reaching towards you, Hoseok's hand constricts around your throat, pulling you into him like he has countless times before.

"You're mine," he growls through pained grunts. His anger lessened, distress replacing it. But he gives you the answer he could see you searching for.

"Yes," you nod subtly. Closing your eyes as you lean further into his hold.

"Get up," Kol orders, interrupting you.

Despite his tightening grip, you pull away from Hobi, standing as you were told. The elder vampire taking your arm leads you away through the bodies to the open doorway.

"Say goodbye Jung Hoseok," Kol calls back, leaving him injured and alone, making you wish more than ever that you could pull back. "And do not worry, I'll take very good care of her for you."

[eunkimmie]

hi! I really liked your sal friends with benefits headcannons and I was wondering if you could do one for larry? :)

larry didn’t think of sex as something that was sacred or that had to be cherished, he just thought of it as a desire. if two people wanted to fuck, so be it. larry thought of himself as a relatively emotional person, even if he didn’t show it all the time. he also knew he wasn’t the worst looking guy out there, he definitely fit into a “type” though. with the long hair occasionally pulled up into a messy bun, the oversized and overworn shirts, loose fitting pants that pooled around his beat up converse with doodles all on the fabric. his tanned skin was even, save for a few patches of acne and some body hair. point is, larry was an attractive guy.

now, there weren’t a whole lot of people in Nockfell that were falling on their knees for him, especially since they knew him as a weird kid in high school, but y’know. tinder was a thing. sometimes he just wanted to chat, or sometimes he did use the app for hookups.

wasn’t much, really. he’d bring someone to his shared house, fuck, then he’d let them choose whether they wanted to stay or leave for the night. maybe if he took a shine to them, offer some weed and cook some shitty eggs for them in the morning.

one day, he matched with you. cute, interesting. and by the way you chatted with him, you didn’t seem too interested in a relationship at the moment either. he invited you over after talking for a day or two, and that was that. you stayed the night, waking to an offer of coffee, maybe some cereal? you agreed, and the two of you sat downstairs laughing. larry was an easy guy to chat with, and almost everyone found that they got comfortable with him and his laid-back nature relatively quickly.

“and what kind of move was that?” you snickered, moving the spoon around in your cereal bowl idly. “i mean, if you’re gonna throw someone on your bed, at least make sure you aim correctly.” he tilted his head back as he let out a boisterous laugh, fist slamming down on the table. “fuck, don’t bring that shit up! sorry for being eager.” the two of you joked like that before you decided it was well time to go home.

after that, larry gradually stopped hooking up with random strangers, and instead turning to you. the both of you were well aware of the relationship and had no issue. but, eventually, the two of you learned that, hey, you actually had some common interests. after a session, you say up in his bed and tried to fix your hair to the best of your abilities after being fucked senseless. “you have a switch?”

“is that a sex question?” he asked, and received a pillow to the chest. “yes, you wanna play something?” you shrugged, pulling a shirt over your chest. he rattled off some names of the co-op games he had, and the two of you had settled on mario kart, cliche as it may be. and of course you beat ass. larry wasn’t a sore loser, instead offering you a lazy smile every time you told him to “eat shit you fucking second place”

larry didn’t question it much, but eventually the two of you became friends. it was bound to happen, your chemistry was more than just sexual, and he was sure that if the two of you had met in person before tinder, you would’ve been friends as well. was it so bad that his fuck-buddy was coming over midday now to play games or watch movies? larry decided that it may be better not to question it. besides, the two of you had a good dynamic going here.

but here’s the thing—when two people spend that much time together in the day and are having sex at night, at least one of them is bound to grow feelings. larry would run his calloused hands up your waist, grasping for as much of you as he could get as his mouth placed sporadic kisses all down your neck. the way your voice sounded as you let out small whimpers made his heart beat faster and faster, but the best noise was when he was fucking you at such a fast pace that had your hands gripping tightly at the sheets, before suddenly he’d stop. he’d watch as you cried out and desperately tried to create some movement between the two of you, and larry would tilt your chin up and give you a lingering kiss, staring down at your tear-filled eyes before he’d finally move again.

every time you two had sex, he would pour all of his affection and feeling into it. he didn’t want to fuck up your friendship, so instead all of his pent up emotion would turn into multiple rounds of sex, sometimes rough, sometimes passionate. he didn’t think he would ever confess, he knew he couldn’t. it would be best to just ignore it, right? right.

so, he never did. he never uttered a word to anyone, not even his friends, about the feelings he harbored for you. and when he asked if you wanted to stay the night, his heart would leap as you nodded and cuddled up to him in bed. and how he felt such a surge of disappointment rush through him when you decided it was time to get going, and left. he fantasized about grabbing you by the arm, stopping you from leaving, and proclaiming that he did have feelings for you, that you were so much more than just a person to hookup with at night. that he wanted a real relationship with you, that he wanted you to stay with him and wake up to him every day, and how much it killed him to open his eyes first thing in the morning and not see your face, and that…

fuck. was he in love with you? was it more than just a crush? it didn’t matter, you didn’t want a relationship, and that was that. larry wasn’t going to push your boundaries, it wasn’t your fault that he had to go and develop feelings for someone he was just supposed to be having sex with. he was in love with you, and the thought made him embarrassed. he’d stay up at night thinking about how quick you’d be to reject him if he ever did confess. the thought of you reciprocating his feelings wasn’t even a possibility in his mind.

you bit your lip as you knocked on the front door to his house. it was strange. you were always attracted to him, of course, but lately you’d been having…thoughts. you spent so much time in his house, his room, that an image of you staying there, with him, had briefly crossed your mind the other night. how would it feel to wake up in his arms every day as the sun peeked through the curtains? to be able to walk over to your shared closet before tossing on some clothes and walking to the kitchen and make breakfast for him? you wondered if he’d help, if maybe he’d come up behind you and wrap his arms around your waist before kissing you softly. “the eggs might burn,” you’d say, but he would turn the burner off and kiss you anyways. how he’d lift you up on the counter and run his hands gently down your sides and plant soft kisses to your lips.

your fantasy stopped right there as he opened up the door, greeting you with a lazy smile. his hair was up this night, small strands falling from the bun he had loosely tied together. and then, the two of you were in his room. but it felt different somehow. maybe it was your imagination.

he closed the door behind him, pressing you up against the wood after it locked with a small click. his hands worked your shirt, pulling it off before tossing it aside. he ran his hand down the side of your thigh, your legs wrapped around him as he supported your body with ease. your hands had cupped his cheeks as you kissed him, his breath shaky as he pulled back for air for only a second.

you didn’t go home that night. you stayed, waking up to larry’s arms draped lazily over your body as your back curved against his chest like a perfect puzzle piece. you turned over, slowly as possible as to make little movement. now, you were face to face with him, his eyes still closed and lips parted slightly. you sighed, pushing a few strands of hair from his face and planting a gentle kiss on his lips. you mumbled out a strained, “fuck,” before you decided that maybe it was better to go back to sleep.

he acted like he was asleep. cheap move, he knew that, but when he felt your fingers softly brush his hair aside, his heart practically jumped out of his chest. he laid there as you kissed him once, and he swore that if you put a hand to his chest you would be able to feel just how fast his heartbeat was going.

for weeks, the two of you unconsciously pined over one another, both of you too afraid to say anything. you continued as you were, meeting up for either video games or sex.

his room was dark, dimly illuminated by his LED lights, your body reflecting a slight sheen of blue as the lights hit your skin perfectly. his hands grasped at your hips, his back against the wall behind his bed as you bounced yourself up and down on his cock, face to face. he supported your movements with his hands on your hips, eyebrows furrowed. you were so fucking tight around him, and your bodies seemed to come together perfectly, like it was meant to be. the way your lips were parted as you moaned his name, and how you almost screamed when he met your movement by thrusting upwards, and how he had to cover your mouth with his hand as to not disturb his roommates. he had moved you to lay on your back now, his body hovering above yours as he fucked you into his mattress. your hands intertwined above your head, and you could fe that all familiar feeling of a bubble about to burst in your stomach.

“f-fuck..fuck! im so, i’m so fucking—“ your sentences weren’t even coherent as he fucked you rhythmically. your back arched, letting him hit an even deeper spot inside of you that made you cry out his name. you removed your hand from his, moving up to cup his cheeks as you stared into his eyes. “fuck..don’t stop. please, don’t stop.”

“fuck…” larry groaned back. he was close, and the way you looked at him as if he was the only thing that mattered right then and there just drew him closer. it was all too much. the way you cried out his name and pulled him into kiss you. it just came out. he mumbled, “fuck…i love you,” and the way immediately after that you pulled him in for another kiss sent him over the edge. you could feel his cum drip out as he pulled himself out of you. you laid on his bed, chest rising and falling as you tried to catch your breath. he uttered that he was going to get you a towel to clean up with after he pulled on some sweatpants.

as you laid there, now partially clothed but still sweaty, you thought about it. you thought about what he had said to you, and how the words alone were enough to make you come undone. your face burned as you thought about it.

larry could really just kill himself. he was so fucking stupid. he stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, fist clenched so tightly that his skin turned paler. he was going to act as if it never happened. it was for the best. it was always for the best.

as the two of you laid in his bed, you couldn’t help but think. and in an impulse, you blurted out, “do you really love me?” as soon as the words had left your mouth, your face heated up with embarrassment. you had meant to phrase it more carefully, but the sound of his voice kept repeating that same line in your head.

larry recoiled, barely visible, as he stayed silent. what was he supposed to say? he couldn’t even act cool in the moment as his mind scrambled for words, any words, to come to mind. “uh…” he said, gulping. he could feel his hands getting clammy. “you can, uh…you don’t have to feel obligated to stay if you’re uncomfortable. i don’t want you to feel like you have to pity me.” that came out a bit self deprecating, but he meant it. he was the one who had fucked it up. he was the one that couldn’t even keep his words to himself.

as you processed his sentence, you furrowed your eyebrows. you had been seeing larry for a few months now, was it? the time you spent together, you felt it had become more than just sex. you guys built a friendship, a bond. maybe it was soon, but life didn’t wait for anyone. “no, fuck..! no, i don’t want to leave, i just…” you paused, thinking about it for a moment more. “i think that i might, um. i don’t know, i can’t really think straight right now, i just…i know i have feelings for you.” and you left it at that. you didn’t know if you loved him yet, but you were sure of yourself.

larry’s brain stopped working for a split second in that moment. he took time to replay your words in his head, but only for a second, because before he knew it he was rambling. “wait, seriously? like, actually? you don’t have to say anything to try and make me feel better, know that. i don’t want to try and—“ you cut him off by shaking your head. “no, no! im not just saying this shit, seriously. im really sure of it, actually.” you laughed softly, half heartedly. it was hard to make eye contact.

larry let out an incredulous laugh as you smiled at him nervously. maybe this moment should’ve been more serious, but all he could think in that moment is that he felt happy. truly, genuinely happy. “let me take you out on a date,” he said, to which you responded with a bright smile and a nod. he couldn’t help but laugh again at the situation, and how unorthodox it all felt. he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

the two of you had stayed up late talking. just talking about life, about feelings and emotions. you two didn’t wake until late noon, but waking up to see your face snuggled into his chest was just about the biggest surge of serotonin that larry could’ve received.

[thisentertaining]

Uncles’ Tea

Two Uncles meet regarding one nephew. Things go about as well as one could reasonable expect.

A tiny ficlet thing I made based on the AMAZING ATLA fic Salvage by @muffinlance 

---

Iroh smiled as Zuko ran off towards the hull of the ship as a man called for someone to help with the rigging. He was too far to hear what the man said, but whatever it was made his nephew bristle, but the Water Tribe Warrior didn’t flinch, despite the angry firebender standing feet away from his heavily scarred arm and shoulder. Instead, he simply ruffled Zuko’s dark hair, though not hard enough to pull a single strand out of the wolftail holding his hair back, or the braids with beads that were making the prince appear more of water than fire. The hair suited him, much better than his phoenix tail ever had.

The casual affection of the water tribe crewmen and doting dog suited him even more. The man’s smile settled into an expression of peace as he watched his nephew expertly pull, tie, and coil ropes, pausing only to pet the isopup that nuzzled at his legs. These men had managed to reawaken a Zuko he’d feared that Ozai had buried too deeply to rise again. While a part of him would always wish that he had been the one to successfully bring his nephew down this path, he was too proud that he’d found his way to let it bother him.

Much.

“Ah,” A voice said and Iroh turned to see an elderly man coming up beside him. The water tribesman had a soft smile on his face, and both blue and red beads in his hair. “You must be my nephew’s other uncle.”

Iroh blinked. Paused. Followed the man’s eyeline to where Zuko was lightly bickering with a pair of boys a few years older than him as he continued to knot the ropes holding the sails. Suddenly, the retired general found himself feeling much less charitable. “What was that, friend?” He asked, grinning a grin that showed the teeth of a dragon. “I’m afraid I didn’t hear, I was watching my nephew. He has become quite good with water tribe sailing methods.”

Kustaa smiled back, though his eyes had sharpened. “Yes, my nephew is an excellent student. He has learned much about our way of life, and learned it quickly, especially about healing. I am lucky that the second best apprentice I’d ever had was my nephew as well.”

Iroh ignored the ‘second best’ comment, and the way the man’s lips quirked when he said it, as though there was a joke that the old prince did not understand. He kept his voice level and calm, steel below the surface, hidden under a layer of peace. He didn’t think this healer would miss it. “Yes. He has already told me much about your people. He was especially proud to tell me about his beads, and how important they are. He told me that they indicate very close bonds for family and friends. I notice…” He brought more steel to the surface. “That he doesn’t have one of yours.”

Kustaa was suddenly very sure that all of his falling practice had really been in preparation for this exact moment. He turned his face so that the red bead was facing the Fire Nation Prince. “I notice that you don’t have one of his.”

“Uncle!” Zuko suddenly shouted, and both men turned to the boy as he ran to them.

“Yes?” They asked simultaneously, before shooting identical glares.

Zuko scowled, response automatic. “You aren’t my uncle!” He shouted immediately, automatically. He always yelled that. It didn’t- it didn’t mean anything. That didn’t stop Iroh from smirking at his uncle opponent superiorly. Kustaa didn’t even glance Iroh’s way, instead pretending to be wounded.

“Ooh, I see how it is. Your other uncle comes and suddenly I’m kicked to the curb, and after you killed your cousin as well. Will you leave me with no one?”

“Wait- I mean, I didn’t- STOP THAT!” Zuko shouted, but Kustaa simply smiled at his nephew, touching his red bead in a subtle gesture that he knew would reassure the youngster.

Zuko rolled his eyes, and Iroh cut into the conversation. “Prince Zuko, I believe you called for me.” He glanced at Kustaa at the last word. Zuko paused, reading the room for the first time. When had he learned to do that?

“Um, I just wanted to ask if you still like roast duck. I- uh, I don’t think I have all the ingredients for it, but I think I can make a good Duck soup. I have the recipe for one at least.”

“That sounds wonderful, nephew. You cook now?”

The boy smiled softly, flushing. “Yeah, they kept making me heat their food and someone only let me work half the day, so I got bored.”

Iroh laughed. “I am surprised they got you to stop working. I admit, that is not something I’d ever achieved.” Zuko blushed. “Come, you can tell me all about what you have learned over some tea.”

“That sounds wonderful.” Kustaa inserted himself. “I will make some of my cloudberry. I know how much you enjoy it, nephew.”

“Ah,” Iroh cut in, any veil gone. “But I brought Jasmine. It is Prince Zuko’s favorite.”

“Is it now.”

“Yes. Ever since he was a child.”

Zuko’s eyes darted between the two, taking cautious steps back. “Um, actually I think Toklo wanted my help with laundry.”

“But Nephew,” Kustaa said, eyes never leaving his uncle opponent. “We were going to have tea.”

“Yes.” Iroh replied, also not looking away. “Some nice calming tea sounds lovely right now.”

“I don’t want any tea Uncle.” Zuko shouted. He considered the side of the ship and briefly considered quickly exiting the conversation before remembering his recent talk with Hakoda. Instead, he inched around the two glaring uncles. “Oh look, uh Seabreeze’s wing is looking weird again.”

Iroh and Kustaa’s eyes remained locked on one another. A challenge. A battle. Two Uncles. One nephew. After a moment however, a wicked smirk ghosted Kustaa’s face. “I propose a truce. Uncles’ do not need to fight one another. Not when there is a father to gang up against.”

Iroh’s brows rose and he looked pointedly at the warriors training and the waterbender helping steer the ship towards the Avatar. “I believe we are already doing that.”

Kusta ‘tsked’ dismissively. “Zuko’s real father. Come, let’s have that tea. I can tell you where our nephew ended up the first time Hakoda took him shopping.”

Iroh considered this for a moment. He looked to his nephew, dressed in blue clothing but walking more relaxed than he had in years, even as he struggled to avoid a dozen crewmate hands reaching to pet his hair. “I have always wanted to try cloudberry when brewed by a master. I’m sure the Earth Kingdom counterparts don’t do it justice.” 

Hakoda, standing just close enough to overhear and supervise suddenly considered climbing the mast.

[wicked-mind]

The Angel and Devil on your Shoulder

Summary: One day you wake up with an angel and devil on your shoulder. And for some reason, they like to air all your feelings out to the one person you’re trying not to like. Bucky.

Word Count: 4.6k

Warnings: (+18 only. This contains sexual themes. Minors DNI and exit now.) Sexual themes. Pining. Implied sex. Swearing. I think that's it.

All Writings Masterlist

Note: This is a little different and out there but it was so much fun to write. Lucy is basically just all my dirty thoughts lol (: not beta’d. All mistakes are my own.

Any and all likes, comments, and/or reblogs are deeply appreciated (: I love that shit.

Bold for Lucy (Represents Lucifer)

Italics for Mickey (Represents Michael)

*Gifs not mine

You weren’t sure exactly when it happened. It surprised you as much as anybody. You just woke up one day to see two pocket sized creatures staring back at you on the pillow. You shrieked and threw yourself from the bed, grabbing the nearest gun you had hidden in your room and pointed at them, “What in the fuck are you?” You stammered out, breathing hard. One was what looked like a small woman dressed in a devil costume, tail and pitchfork included. The other was a small woman dressed in white with a small halo around her head. They honestly looked like cartoon characters of the sort.

“We didn’t mean to scare you.” The one in white said with a small smile, suddenly floating up in the air to float in front of you.

“Yes we did.” The devil looking one said, folding her arms with a wicked smile on her lips as she stayed laying on your pillow.

“Shut up, Lucy!”

“Make me, Mickey.”

You lowered the gun a little, wide eyes flickering between the two, “What the hell is going on?” You breathed out, wondering if you’d lost your mind.

“My apologies. I’m Mickey.” She said with a small curtsy and a smile, “That’s my sister, Lucy. We are your deities.”

“My what?” You ask confused, your brain trying to catch up with the fact that there were two tiny fairy-like people just floating in your room.

“Deities. You know, divine status.” The one named Lucy suddenly floated over and perched itself on your shoulder, “Usually humans don’t get any deities. We are pretty much reserved for gods and such.”

You looked at the small person on your shoulder before reaching a hand and flicking her off, sending her flying before she stopped midair floating and huffed at you, “Then why are you here?”

“We don’t know. We’re just your deities.”

“Well can you not be my deities?” You ask, looking back to the angelic one, “I’m not a god or a divine person so you two can just go back where you came from.”

“No can do, boss lady. You’re stuck with us.”

That is how you were introduced to your two deities. Lucy, the devil on your shoulder and Mickey, the angel on the other. You first had to make sure you weren’t going insane, calling Wanda incessantly until she came into your room with a concerned look on her face to see you pacing around. You had made Lucy and Mickey hide somewhere in the room before Wanda arrived. You paused when Wanda asked you what was wrong and looked at her, “Okay, first you can’t send me to the looney bin because I’m not crazy.” You pause, “Well maybe I am but I don’t want to go to the looney bin.”

Wanda tilts her head at you still with a confused look on her face, “No looney bin, gotcha.” She said slowly, “Now what’s going on?”

You let out a deep breathe before muttering a “come on out.” to the two deities in hiding. They slowly floated up from under the bed and floated towards Wanda who was staring at them with wide, yet confused eyes, “What are those things?”

“I don’t know, Wanda!” You say, “They just were staring at me when I woke up. They say they’re my deities.”

“I’m Mickey!” The one in white beamed, moving closer to Wanda and taking a seat on her right shoulder.

“And I’m Lucy.” The red one huffed out, floating over to Wanda’s right shoulder and kicking Mickey off Wanda’s shoulder.

Wanda stood in silence for a moment just staring at the two deities before smiling slightly, “They’re so cute!” She said before looking back to you, “Can we keep them?”

You groaned. Of course Wanda thought this was cute and not at all weird, “As much as I want to say no, I don’t have a choice. They say they’re stuck with me.” You inform, watching them float back over to you and sit themselves on either of your shoulders.

You figured out that Mickey was the parts of you that wanted to do good, be good. The part that cared and gave helpful advice while Lucy was the complete opposite. She harbored all your temptations and dirty, dark thoughts. The rest of the team figured out your secret eventually. Steve and Sam found you talking to yourself on the couch before seeing them sitting beside you asking all the questions about TV. They thought it was funny and Sam had many jokes about the angel and devil on your shoulders.The worst one was Bucky when he found out. He was a player, always having different girls up in his room almost every day of the week as well as make flirty remarks to you anytime he was in the room and that was before you had the deities. He loved the little devil on your shoulder. It got all worked up when Bucky walked in a room trying to make suggestions towards you about running your fingers through his hair or jumping his bones until your face was hot and you stormed out of the room. Luckily, you eventually figured out that you could give them orders. You once told them to leave you alone and they disappeared into thin air giving you about three hours of peace before they returned.

Now the whole team was out on a mission. Leaving you around with the person you didn’t want to be left alone with. Bucky. You were trying your best to stay away from him, especially when your deities were around. He got you so worked up which only made Lucy get worked up as well. As much as you were trying to stay away from him, there were moments where he managed to track you down. Like this morning when you were walking out of your room to head down to the training room. Bucky was walking down the hall with nothing but a towel on which made you freeze in your tracks as Lucy started fanning herself on your shoulder in a swoon, “Why are you walking on my floor with nothing but a towel on? Your room is upstairs and has it’s own shower, Barnes.” You scowled, folding your arms.

“Ah, c’mon, Y/N! Maybe if you’re nice he’ll accidentally let the towel slip.” Lucy’s words earned a smack from Mickey before she returned her arms crossed as well, mimicking your scowl.

Bucky put that signature panty-dropping grin on and came closer to you, staring down into your eyes as he towered above you, “You know, sweetheart,” He began, making Lucy giggle on your shoulder, “Maybe you should listen to your devil sometime. She’s got all the good ideas.” He finished before walking around you and to the elevator, disappearing through the doors.

“You should’ve kicked him in the shin.”

You and Mickey both look over at Lucy as she floated off your shoulder and in front of you, “What?” You ask.

“He could’ve dropped his towel if you kicked him in the shin. Then we could see the rest of him.”

You scowled at Lucy, “Shut up.” You told her before continuing on your way to the training room. You started with some weight lifting before moving onto punching the bag while Lucy and Mickey sat behind you on the ropes of the boxing ring bickering as they usually did. They both fell oddly silent and when you turned around to check on them, there was Bucky again towering over you inches away, making you jump, “Holy shit!” You gasped out, “You need a fucking bell, Barnes.” You hissed out at him for scaring you.

Bucky clicks his tongue at you, taking a step forward until you backed up against the boxing bag, a smirk growing on his lips as he had you cornered in, “Now, now Y/N. I’m not sure how your angel would feel about that kind of language.”

“I’ll allow it.”

“Mhmm…”

You leaned over to look around him, glaring at your deities before straightening back up and looking back up at him, “What do you want? I thought you were done with training this morning.”

Bucky raises an eyebrow at you, “Keeping track of my schedule, doll?” He asks, reaching out a hand to brush a strand of hair that was stuck to your lip away and tucks it behind your ear.

You scowled at him, crossing your arms across your chest, “As if. Did you forget about the towel thing already?” You sneer out. You couldn’t deny it though, his light touch to your cheek made you blush and a shiver run up your spine. Bucky was hot but to you he was also a walking cesspool from all the women he had flaunting over him. At first you had the biggest crush on him but that quickly turned to slight disgust mixed with your crush. But when he was standing over you like this, lightly sweeping away a strand of hair, your knees felt weak and your breath hitches in your throat.

“Oh I couldn’t forget the face you made when you saw me nearly naked. It was the most beautiful look I’ve ever seen.” Bucky grins down at you, taking another step closer so your bodies were almost touching and he reaches up his arms over your head to rest his hands on top of hanging punching bag, practically cornering you in, “Came to see if you needed any help.”

You stare up into those stupid, pretty blue eyes of his, biting your bottom lip at how close he is. You eventually advert your gaze from his eyes and look around him, anywhere but that hypnotizing stare, “No thanks. I’m just about done.”

“Oh booooo! You two should wrestle. That’d be hot.”

“Lucy!” Mickey began then paused, “Yeah you have a point.”

“So you’re on my side now about tall, dark, and handsome?”

“He may talk like a devil but he looks like an angel.”

Bucky grins, his eyes never leaving yours as he listened to your deities’s conversation, “Hear that, sweetheart? Even your little deities think I’m the best of both worlds.” He leans his face down, closer to yours. He was so close that he could capture your lips in a moment if he wanted to and you wouldn’t be able to do anything to stop him, “You just gotta give me a chance.”

You stared back into his eyes before moving your gaze down to his lips, watching his tongue flicker out and sweep across the bottom one lightly which cause you to let out a jagged breath. You quickly remembered who Bucky was and ducked down under his arms and away from him, “No thanks, Barnes. I’m not going to be just another girl that sneaks out of your room when you’re done.” You say, going over to the bench and picking up your water bottle and making your way out of the training area.

“Who said you’d be just another girl?” Bucky tucks his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants as he watches you go, waving to your deities as they passed him to follow you out, “And who said anything about sneaking out, darlin’? I’d let you stay all night and every night after!” He called out before you slammed the door behind you. What he said was true though, Bucky would give up all the one night stands and flirting with other women if you would just give him a chance. He honestly liked you, almost to the point where the crush had grown into being in love with you. And now that you had a little devil on your shoulder that spoke all your dirty thoughts, he knew you felt some sort of the same way. He hadn’t brought another woman home since Lucy started making remarks and he noticed you would blush and quickly exit a room. He never thought he had a chance with you, thought you disliked him. But now he had a chance.

You made your way to your bedroom, shutting the door behind you and let out a deep breath before touching your cheek where Bucky had swiped some of your hair away. It was like you could still feel his touch and it sent another shiver down your spine.

“Is she okay?” Mickey asks, tilting her head at you as she and Lucy sat on your pillow.

“I think she’s getting all warm and fuzzy.” Lucy snickered.

“Warm and Fuzzy?…. Oh!”

“Shut up.” You groan, tossing your water bottle on the bed before making your way to your bathroom and shutting the door behind you to have some alone time from your deities. You pulled off your sweaty clothes from your body before turning on the shower and stepping into the warm water. You closed your eyes and tilted your head back into the warmth, your mind immediately floating to how good you felt with Bucky so close to you. The way his words rolled off his tongue like velvet. And oh god, the way his tongue danced across his bottom lip as he stared right into your eyes. You quickly shook the thoughts from your head and scrubbed yourself clean of sweat and his touch before turning off the shower and pulling a towel around your body. You brushed out your hair in the bathroom before walking out into your bedroom, freezing when you saw Bucky sprawled across your bed talking to your deities. You gripped the towel tighter around you, your eyes wide, “What are you doing?!”

Bucky looked over to you, tilting his head as he ran his eyes up and down your body that was only covered by a towel, “You saw me in only a towel, figured it’s only fair if I saw you.” He teased, placing his arms behind the back of his head on your pillow with a grin set on his lips, “Better than I could’ve imagined, sweetheart.”

You frown a little at him, picking up a book from your desk and throwing it at him which he caught with ease. Damn super soldier reflexes. You watched Mickey and Lucy slowly float from over on the bed by Bucky to sit on your shoulders, “Well can you please go so I can get dressed?”

Bucky set the book down on your bedside table before sitting up on your bed, keeping eye contact with you with every movement he made, “I’ll go on one condition.” He smirked over at you, licking his lips again.

“I hope that one condition is to join him in the bed. Yum.”

You tilted your head to glare at Lucy who quickly made a motion to zip her lips shut before returning your gaze back to Bucky who was standing from your bed and making his way over to you. You back up until your thighs hit the edge of your desk and he’s towering over you once again, “What do you want?”

“Oh he’s close-close.”

Bucky kept walking towards you until he was almost flush against your body but left a little space between. His blue eyes pierced down into yours, the smirk never wavering from his lips, “Have dinner with me tonight, doll.” He says, reaching up a hand to brush his vibranium knuckles across your cheek, making goosebumps crawl up your skin and your knees almost buckle, “Just you and me.”

“She’s getting warm and fuzzy again.”

“Warm and fuzzy over dinner?”

“She’s probably thinking about dessert.”

You shut your eyes tightly at the words of your deities, why did they have to always speak up on what you were feeling at the most inopportune times. You opened your eyes again when you heard Bucky chuckle at their words, meeting his gaze that had been unmoving from your face, “Fine. Dinner. Just dinner.” You mumble out to him, “Now can you please go so I can get dressed?”

Bucky beams at your response, “A deals a deal.” He replied, but didn’t move away from you. He tilts his head as he gave you another look over, biting his bottom lip and scrunching his nose slightly at the sight before meeting your gaze again, “I’ll be cooking. Meet me in the kitchen at six.” He said before learning in and leaving a gentle kiss on your cheek before turning and leaving your room, shutting the door behind him.

As soon as he left your room, you walked on shaky legs over to your bed and sat on the edge with a groan. Bucky doesn’t do dinner, let alone cook dinner for the women he brings back. He’s usually on one mission when it came to women and that was to get them in and out of his room as quick as possible.

“Is she okay?”

“Shit, I’m not. Did you see him bite his lip? I almost fainted.”

“Yeah that even had me swooning a little bit.”

“I’m surprised her underwear just didn’t fall off right on the spot.”

“She isn’t wearing underwear.”

“Good point.”

“Okay! Time out!” You yell at them, glaring as your eyes flickered between the two deities. They both looked at you before disappearing into thin air, giving you some peace and quiet to process the deal you just made with Bucky. You took a deep breath, “It’s just dinner.” You tell yourself, throwing your towel into the hamper and changing into some jean shorts and your AC/DC tank. You decided it would be best to just avoid Bucky the rest of the day until dinner then you could go back to avoiding him. You tried to read to waste the time but your mind couldn’t stop drifting to the way Bucky kissed your cheek. It was soft, gentle and hesitant as if he was trying to be some sort of gentleman.

“You’ve read the same page six times.”

“I know.” You mutter out. Your deities had returned after an hour of peace and silence, but luckily they were behaving for the most part. You had another hour before you were supposed to meet Bucky in the kitchen.

“She’s thinking about Bucky.”

“Ooohhhh…. Good thinking?”

“Sexy thinking?”

“Is there a difference?”

You groaned and brought the book up to your face, hiding in the pages, “I don’t know what he’s doing. I feel like the mouse in a game of cat and mouse.”

“I’ll be his mouse any day.”

“Well, maybe he actually likes you?”

“I don’t know if he’s capable of liking anybody in that way.”

“He hasn’t brought anybody back to his bedroom since we showed up and I started airing out your dirty laundry.”

You look over at Lucy, “How do you know that?”

“He’s nice to look at. Sometimes I go stare at him.”

“He invited you to dinner. He hasn’t done that with anybody else before.”

“And he’s cooking. Hopefully naked cooking. Or nothing but an apron on, that’ll work.”

“Yeah, I know. Bucky doesn’t do dinner for his flings, let alone cook for them.” You pause for a moment, “Oh my god, is this a date?”

“Seems like a date.”

“You should put on a skimpy dress.”

You frown at Lucy, “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

“Nothing is wrong with what you’re wearing.” Mickey glared over at Lucy, “You wear whatever you’re comfortable in.”

“Thanks, Mickey.” You mumble out, putting the book down on your bedside table.

“I’m just trying to get you laid. Skimpy dresses work.”

You sigh, standing up and looking at yourself in the mirror, “Maybe I should put pants on instead of shorts so he isn’t eye fucking me.”

“Just more layers for him to strip off of you later.”

“I don’t think covering your legs will work. You were wearing leggings and a hoodie in the training room and he was still trying to undress you with his eyes.”

You bite onto your bottom lip as you look at yourself in the mirror. What was it about you that Bucky liked so much to where he was going to make you dinner? Ask you out on a date? Sure, he’s always made flirty comments with you but you thought that was the normal. He’s never made any towards Natasha which you thought was because she’d kill him in a moments notice but then he’s never flirted with Wanda either. You were the only one in the facility he bothered to flirt with and get all worked up. Maybe he did actually like you? And Lucy just confirmed it so now he was headstrong on asking you out?

Eventually the time came and you slowly walked out of your room and made your way to the kitchen, stopping when you see the table had been set with a nice white cloth, some candles, two wine glasses with a bottle of wine, and some bread.

“Definitely a date.” Mickey whispers in your ear.

Bucky turned from the stove to see you, a grin forming across his lips. He was wearing black jeans with a dark blue henley that seemed about two sizes too small on him, “Hey, sweetheart. Dinner’s just about ready.” He said, walking over to the table and pouring some wine into the glasses before walking over to you with one and stretching it out to you, “We are having steak, potatoes, and some salad. I hope that’s okay. You look beautiful by the way.”

You took the wine glass and nod, “That’s fine.” You say back to him before biting your lip. Beautiful in simple jean shorts and a band t-shirt? You couldn’t sense any lying in his voice and he was looking at you with soft, sincere eyes and a smile, “Thanks. You look good too.”

“Oh, steak. And wine. And candles. You know what they say about steak.”

“What?”

“When a guy buys a girl the most expensive thing on the menu, usually they expect at least a blowjob.”

“Oh. That makes no sense. Why does steak equal blowjob?”

“Oh my god.” You say, closing your eyes and pinching the bridge of your nose with your free hand, “You two. Gone. Now.” You hiss out at your deities. Once it was silent for a moment, you opened your eyes to see they had disappeared and Bucky standing there with an amused grin on his lips.

“Just so you know, doll, I don’t expect anything.” Bucky said with a grin down at you, stepping closer and gently placing a hand on your hip, “Just wanted to treat you to a nice evening.”

You bit your lip again, the same shiver running up your back as he touched your hip and you wondered if you knew what he was doing to you. You watched him for a moment before speaking, “James, is this a date?”

Bucky raises an eyebrow at your question, “You don’t have to consider it one. But I sure do.” He told you, “I’ve always wanted to ask you out, Y/N.” He said with a sincere smile before turning away and going back to the table to grab the plates and head to the stove to dish everything up.

The whole time during dinner, Bucky was nothing but a gentleman to you. He didn’t make any snide, seductive remarks. Instead he spent his time telling you about himself, answering any question you asked honestly. He asked you questions about your hobbies, which he already knew mostly everything about. He asked what books you were currently reading. You had never seen this side of Bucky and for a moment you forgot everything about him being an annoying flirt. It wasn’t until dessert that he turned on flirt back on. Bucky pulled out a slice of chocolate cake he must’ve picked up from a bakery and sat beside you, cutting a pice off with his fork before holding the it in front of your face, “Open up, sweetheart.” He told you, that grin returning to his lips.

You give him a look but opened your mouth and took the bite of chocolate cake, smiling a little, “That is so good.” You say after swallowing the bite. You bit your lip for a moment before taking the fork from him, slicing off a piece and holding it in front of him like he did for you, “Open up.” You say with a teasing smile.

Bucky grins but parts his lip, his teeth scraping slightly against the fork as you pulled it from his lips. He chewed a little before swallowing the piece and leaning a little closer to you, “Mmm. That’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted.” He purrs out to you.

You blush slightly at his velvety voice, “Yeah, it’s really sweet. Really good.” You reply slightly stumbling over your words, watching him lean in a little closer to you.

“I could think of something sweeter I’d like to try.” Bucky breathed out to you, his face inches from yours now. He took the fork from your hand and set it down on the table without breaking eye contact before lifting his hand to cup your cheek gently. He didn’t move closer to you though, instead scanning your face as if to ask for you permission.

You bit your bottom lip, able to smell the chocolate on his breath as well as the wine. You stared into his eyes, not moving away from his touch or away from him being so close to you. You swore you could hear your heart pounding in your ears, “Then try it.” You whisper out to him.

Within a second after your words, Bucky’s lips were on yours. It was gentle but bruising. His other hand quickly came to rest on your thigh, sneaking up until he reached your hip. He didn’t stop at one kiss, instead he kept laying sweet kisses on your lips, deepening each one until his tongue traced your bottom lip begging for entrance which you happily parted your lips for. He groaned when his tongue danced with yours, pulling you off your chair in one swift movement and onto his lap to have you straddle his waist.

You pulled away for air, not knowing when your fingers got tangled in his dark hair. You look down at him from where you sat on his lap, taking deep breathes as his eyes met yours. His hands were gripping onto your waist and he was licking his bottom lip as if to taste any remnants of your lips.

“Been thinkin’ about doin’ that forever, doll.” Bucky groaned up to you, “First time I saw you… I couldn’t stop thinkin’ about making you my girl.”

“Me too. That was hot.” Lucy said, sitting on the top of the counter with Mickey at her side.

You blushed and hid your face into Bucky’s shoulder at your deities’s words.

“Don’t stop on our account. We are just here for the show.”

“What show?”

“The show of them having hot sex on the table.”

“I don’t think we should watch that show.”

You lift your head to look over at your deities with a glare, “Go away. There will be no hot sex on the table.” You hissed out at them before watching them disappear again. You look back to Bucky who was staring up at you with an amused grin, “I meant that.”

“No sex on the table?” Bucky chuckles out, pulling your hips against his making a small gasp escape your lips, “That’s fine, darlin’. We can start in the bedroom and work our way out here.”

_____________________________________________________________

Permanent Taglist: @buckypops @bibliophilewednesday @stcrryslibrary @redhairedfeistynerd @princessnnylzays

[thefanficmonster]

Lucky Me (Sequel To Unlucky)

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: Fluff

Summary: You aren’t always born with luck. Sometimes, you meet people who bring it to you. In short, they are your lucky charm.

Requested: Yes, but not in a typical way. A big thank you to all the wonderful people who read, liked, reblogged and commented on part one - Unlucky.  

@susceptible-but-siriusexual  @simonsbluee  @save-the-sky  @hacker-ghost  @itsminniekat  @bi-andready-tocry  @imtiredaffff  @jazzkaurtheglorious  @hereforbeebo  @fandomgirl17  and many more ❤❤❤

They are the reason this story is being written. What was originally supposed to be an elaborate one-shot turned into the most liked piece I’ve ever written. I can’t thank you enough, guys. You are amazing and I hope you like this one just as much or even more than the previous. Love you ❤❤❤

Y/N’s POV

I’m grinning at my reflection in the mirror as I put on a pair of earrings. My face is already touched-up with a little make-up and my hair is looking on point. I can almost see my own reflection in the shine of excitement in my eyes. I take in my upper body via a quick once-over in the full body mirror opposite me, and I finally relax my muscles that I didn’t ever realize I was tensing.

“OK, now I’m ready.“ I say as a form of encouragement as I reach behind me for my phone that’s sitting on my bed.

You might be wondering where I’m going? Who I’m going with? What’s the occasion behind this many preparations and pampering?

The answer: Nowhere. No one. Nothing. I’m literally not even going to leave my house.

It might seem ridiculous to someone else, but to me, to my hypnotized mind, it’s perfectly reasonable to be getting so amped up over a FaceTime call. Yeah, you heard me correctly - a FaceTime call. 

Well, you see, this isn’t the first time we FaceTime, but it will be the first time we’ll see each other’s faces. I wanted to level the field so I didn’t let him on to what I look like, where exactly I live, etc. Basically, he only knows my name, which I am still prepared to call unfair, considering I don’t know his real name. 

A brief backstory to my first ever real interaction with Corpse: I was introduced to him by my friends. They are the ones I always turned to with all the scary shit happening in my life. Often times they didn’t know weather to comfort me or laugh at my curse. My friends suggested I start sharing it to a youtuber named Corpse Husband. You see, I love YouTube narrators and I’ve always been a fan of Mr. Nightmare and I, to be perfectly honest, always kept the idea of sending him my stories in the back of my mind. Nevertheless, I bit the bullet and checked out on of this Corpse Husband guy’s videos. And then another. And another. And before I knew it I was having a marathon after which I was too paranoid to get online, walk home alone at night, leave my curtains open etc. It wasn’t all thanks to the stories themselves. A lot of the fear factor these stories strike with should be credited to the way they are read. Let me tell you, this guy had it all figured out with the reading. Not sending him my stories would just be wrong. So I did, I sent him my first ever creepy encounter which was with a stalker from my high school and it took me only two days to forget about it. It only crossed my mind when my friends blew my phone up, demanding I watched Corpse’s new video. I kid you not, I got more scared by the story when he read it than when I lived it. That’s what settled it for me - I decided to send him each and every story.

And then one day, out of the blue, my life changed for the better in more ways than one. It got turned completely upside down, like a rollercoaster, and I just had to hold on and enjoy the ride, embrace the adrenaline rush and excitement, knowing full well that I chose to get on and there’s no way I can get off halfway through. 

I’m being too metaphorical. He sent me an email. He freaking reached out to me. And I was posed with a rough choice. Took me a minute, but I chose to reply to him, I chose to trust him, and I couldn’t just leave him on read one day simply cause I chickened out. Yes, I’m unlucky and these things don’t happen to unlucky people. I mean, they do, but they are nightmares disguised as a dream come true. I’ve lived all my life cautiously: if something sounds too good to be true it’s either not as good as marketed or not true at all. If it’s dark and late and there are no people around, FaceTime someone. If your Uber driver’s sketchy, cancel the ride. I take all the precautions and I still find myself in the worst situations. Or at least...

My thoughts are interrupted by the ringing of my phone. A simple ringtone I hear every time he calls me. A simple sound that causes me butterflies when I hear it and ultimate devastation if the caller ID doesn’t read the name I want. It always gets me excited, probably more than it should. This time is different, however. It’s scary almost. I’m nervous, anxious, scared, hesitant - all things I never feel when I’m about to answer his call. 

With shaky hands I pick up the call and find myself looking at the most beautiful person I’ve ever met. Now I know why I would have never initiated this meeting, because I know what color my face is right now. I know my voice has let me down before I even attempt to speak. I know I look like a mess. I know my obvious crush is showing.

Corpse initiated this meeting. He said he was getting too curious and he wanted one of his best friends to see him and for him to finally see her. It’s been about seven months since we first started texting and I haven’t let out a single peep about it to a single soul. It’s just between him and I. We are each other’s safe space away from the rest of the world.

“Thought you weren’t gonna pick up for a second there.“ His voice is not as confident as other times when we’ve talked. His trying to hide his own nervousness and all I wanna do is hug him and tell him he doesn’t have to. I kept telling him over and over again that we don’t have to do this if he’s not sure that he actually wants it. I even offered to show him what I look like, not expecting to see him in return but he declined, saying it was now his turn to even the field.

“I was in another room.“ I manage to say, my voice only shaking a little.

We spend a few moments just looking at each other. Admiring one another. For someone who prefers digital interaction, I am surprised to realize I wish he was actually standing in front of. I wish I could hug him. A long hug of comfort, mutual understanding and hidden feelings.

He lets out a short laugh, shaking his head which causes a few strands of hair to fall over his eyepatch, “I’m sorry...It’s just-...Fuck I’m stumbling.” He chuckles nervously, “I just...can’t believe you are real. You are a real person. And the most beautiful person I’ve seen. That’s corny, isn’t it.” He looks away from the screen, his face now a shade of red. “But I mean it. I’m embracing my corniness. You are beautiful, Y/N. Not that I’m flexing or anything, but I’m lucky to have met you.”

I laugh, feeling my eyes stinging from the tears that have suddenly formed. I don’t want to let them fall, but I don’t have much say in that. “Well, mister Corpse, I can’t begin to compare. I mean...that hair! I still cannot believe it’s you. You are not just a deep voice in my mind. You are....you are...”

“Everything you imagined and more?“ he jokes, making my whole body heat up. “I told you you could trust. I mean, if the hair doesn’t confirm I’m who I say I am, I don’t know what will.”

“Actually, I never tried to imagine what you looked like. I knew those visions...I knew they didn’t matter. Faces don’t matter to us, Corpse. I think you realize that.“

And just like that, all I’ve been keeping hidden is pouring out. I don’t try to stop it - you can’t stop a hurricane with bare hands.

“I never needed a face to imagine us. I always saw as talking on the phone, playing Among Us. Reading scary stories to each other on Discord. I never needed a face to imagine your company. To imagine what we could be...“ I trail off, letting the first tear slip down my cheek.

The most sincere look appears in his eyes, “Fuck, I wish I could hold your hand right now. Never mind, I wish I could hug you, Y/N. Hug you and not let go for a long time.”

I laugh halfheartedly, my chest burning from the intensity of this moment’s intimacy, “I can always tell you where I live.” I’m only half-joking. I really want to see him in real life, not just through a screen, but even this call is out of his comfort zone, let alone a physical meet up.

He surprises me yet again, “Saturday. I’ll bring the take out, you pick the movie.” he says with a smile that is literally saying ‘you didn’t see that coming, did you?’

“How are you sure I don’t live in a different state, or a different continent all together?“ I tease, making an attempt to put my composure back together.

He smirks, “I pay way more attention to your stories than you’d think.” I laugh, shaking my head as a pointless method of fighting the pesky tears that he has 100% noticed by this point. “By the way, just because we’re....” he thinks for a second, “in a weird zone between friendship and...something more, doesn’t mean you have to stop sending me stories. I absolutely love reading them for my audience. They love em too.”

I just realized I am yet to tell him the crazy miracle that has happened. “Well, the thing is...I don’t have any.” His eyebrows shoot up in shock which makes me laugh, “Yeah, I know, it’s crazy. Since the day we started talking I have not experienced a single scary thing. Deadass. I swear on my life.”

If I wasn’t so head over heels for this man already, the baffled expression on his face would definitely send me falling for him. He’s just that adorable. “Wow.”

“I know right.“ I nod, “Seems to me you have enough luck to share with me.“

His eyes light up at that comment, showing just how meaning full it is to him.

“You’re my lucky charm, Corpse.“

“I will never be more proud of any other title, Y/N. That I can promise you with no hesitation.“

“Deadass?“

“Deadass.“

[vvideonasties]

clear-cut

"Good morning," Jon says.

"Um," Martin replies.

Jon then realises that him holding a pair of scissors so close to his eyes not long after ranting about gouging them out would be rather concerning at first glance. 

word count: 2k

pairing: jonmartin

warnings: discussion of canon related trauma, thoughts about body autonomy

While rifling through the kitchen drawers, Jon is unsurprised by the plethora of blades Daisy owns. There’s every kind of knife you could fathom and, thankfully, a few pairs of scissors. Grabbing what appears to be the sharpest pair (though they all look pretty damn sharp), he heads to the bathroom. He clutches the white of the porcelain sink and stares into the mirror impassively. 

He used to actually quite like his long hair. He’d play with it while he was working, twirling the thick locks around his fingers and untangling knots absentmindedly. When he’d get frustrated he’d pull it out of its tie and tug at it. It was a strange way to ground himself. 

Now, though. It’s been used too much for other people’s gain, has been in too many people’s hands for it to truly belong to him. The gravity it provided began to dissipate when Daisy attacked him - she’d grabbed a chunk of it and used it to yank back his head to expose the vulnerable expanse of his neck. As he’d stood there under the mercy of her blade, shaking and pleading, the stinging in his scalp lingered the entire time. It only got worse from there - the awful attempt at tenderness displayed by the Stranger as Nikola brushed aside a few strands to gain access to more flesh, to paste moisturiser onto it with her stiff fingers. The dirt he couldn’t quite scrub out of it after he left the Buried, even when he sat in the tub for hours on end. Even when the water began to run clear, he could still feel the clumps weighing him down, making his head loll to the side with it.

After all that, it wasn’t much to him. He’d wash it, dry it, tie it up. Try not to think of it. 

Jon stares down at the gleaming scissors in the sink determinedly. Cutting it off won’t solve much, if anything at all, but it would make him feel a little more comfortable. It’s one of the only things he can control about himself at the moment. If he doesn’t like the way it looks, then fine. It’ll grow back. 

His hand flexes and clenches into a fist. Tighten, relax, tighten, relax. 

He reaches for the scissors and holds a piece of hair in front of his face, the blades open, hungry, ready to receive. 

Then there comes a short, polite cough. He turns to see Martin standing just outside the bathroom, eyes a little wider than normal. 

"Good morning," Jon says.

"Um," Martin replies.

Jon then realises that him holding a pair of scissors so close to his eyes not long after ranting about gouging them out would be rather concerning at first glance. 

“I’m cutting my hair,” he clarifies, and Martin seems to relax at that. 

“Okay.” A pause. “Why?”

He puts down the scissors and shrugs, suddenly feeling self-conscious. 

“Just felt like it,” he says, which is kind of true. “Not particularly attached to it anymore.”

Martin hums, taking him at his word. He walks over on socked feet, close enough that Jon can feel the heat radiating from him. There’s a brief moment where his hands pass over the scissors.

“I could help?”

Jon turns to face him completely, brow furrowed. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, it’s just that I have experience? Kind of? I cut my own, and I used to cut my mum’s as well...” Martin’s mouth twists downwards at that, and Jon just frowns harder. “I won’t give you my mum’s style, I promise!” He jokes weakly. It falls flat, and the whole atmosphere feels stilted. 

“Okay. Why not.”

“...Are you sure? I don’t want to interrupt your whole-”

“It’s fine. I could use some help reaching the back anyway.” As much as he just wants to lop all of it off, he doesn’t want it to look messy. 

Martin seems to brighten, probably at the relief of having something to focus on, and he walks off to grab a chair from the small dining table as Jon hovers awkwardly. He positions it in the living room, close to the small TV they’ve been using sporadically. They’ve been steadily working their way through the small cabinet full of DVDs underneath it. However, Jon isn’t exactly sure how long they’re going to be staying, so they might have to...ration them. The week they’ve been here hasn’t exactly been the most vibrant when it comes to entertainment. Maybe one day they’ll relent and open up the dusty box of Monopoly. That could very well be a major test of their relationship, though. 

At least, Jon thinks this is a relationship. They haven’t talked about it all that much. All that mattered in the beginning was escaping the Lonely, leaving London, then getting settled here. They’re fumbling around blindly in the dark, and all Jon knows is he wants to hold onto Martin as tightly as possible. 

That little train of thought is interrupted by the small clink of Martin taking the scissors off of the sink and grabbing a towel from the rack. He gestures to the chair, inviting Jon to sit, and when he does so he feels the towel being gently wrapped around his shoulders. 

There’s the brief sensation of Jon’s hair being pulled at, only slightly, and he sucks in a sharp breath.

“Okay?” Martin whispers. He understands without knowing, somehow, and Jon is glad that he can’t see the way his face is taut with apprehension, tinged with pain. 

“Okay,” he whispers back, trying to emulate Martin’s tone. 

“Can I use your tie?” His voice is still soft, and Jon should feel patronised, but he mostly feels soothed. “Just so it’s easier to cut through.”

Jon wordlessly removes the tie from his wrist and hands it over. He tries to hide the little shiver that passes over him when their fingers brush. Martin begins to hum a tune as he gathers the hair up into one handful (not like they did, he would never, it’s Martin, always so good to him), then creates a loose ponytail that falls to his shoulders. 

“Fine so far?” Jon nods tentatively. “Alright then.” 

There’s the distinct sound of the blades opening, and in one fluid motion Jon feels the weight he’d been carrying leave him. 

“There.” Martin comes into view, holding the thick, dark ponytail aloft, smiling crookedly. 

“Oh,” he croaks. “That’s...a lot.” His hand comes up to brush his the side of his head, then travels down and grasps at thin air where hair was a second ago. The cut seems to stop at his jaw, the small strands remaining ghosting over his skin. 

“It is. Can I keep going?”

Jon, hand still close to his head, makes a noise of assent. Martin takes a second to throw away what’s been cut then returns. He sinks his hands into Jon's scalp, massaging the tension out of it, and Jon makes an unbidden noise of satisfaction that causes his motions to still.

"God, sorry, did I hurt-"

"No! No, it's okay. It felt nice." It felt really nice. 

Martin clicks his tongue and continues for a while longer, fingers digging into Jon’s scalp over and over in a wonderful, rhythmic motion until Jon is practically boneless and falling asleep in the chair. He wonders if there’s a not-weird way to ask for this again outside of a hair cutting context. 

“So how short are we going here? You kind of have a bob right now,” Martin laughs. 

Jon hadn’t really thought about that. He just wanted it off, away, binned and out of his face. He shrugs. “I don’t know, short? Whatever you think will suit me.”

“Any hairstyle would suit you,” Martin points out, like it’s nothing. Jon smiles. “But I’ll do my best.” 

A few moments of Martin muttering to himself and circling around the chair is followed by the coolness of the dual blades against the curve of Jon’s ear, the shhk of them pressing together giving him goosebumps. He clearly has done this many times before, given the confident way he navigates the scissors. Jon certainly couldn’t have done this alone, at least not without making a fool out of himself. Martin brushes some hair away from the nape of his neck. His hands are very warm. 

“Y’know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you with short hair.”

Jon turns to him, puzzled. “Really?”

The thing with Jon is, when he cares about someone a lot, he tends to insert them in all of his memories, assuming that they’ve always been around (he also has the memory of a goldfish, but he’s sure that’s a whole other thing). Martin has become such an integral part of his life, standing neatly by his side like it’s nothing. Like he was meant to be there and always has. 

“It has been quite a few years now, I suppose. Last I remember it was this short I was still in research.” When he goes to touch his head again he notes that he can feel for his ears without having to move a mountain of hair aside.

“Better late than never, I guess! I’m gonna move to the front now.”

Martin has to position himself at an awkward angle to use the scissors properly, his back practically curved into a C shape. His gaze is focused and intense, his lower lip caught between his teeth. Hair falls on Jon’s face as he snips, making him wrinkle his nose and grimace.

“Sorry. You can wash it off soon.”

Jon nods minutely. Then he sneezes. Martin just smiles, his eyes crinkling at the corners, then continues. 

He remembers why he rarely went to get a professional haircut now. That strange intimacy that comes with someone being so close to you - a stranger - it always disturbed him. The idle chatter that made him grit his teeth, how they’d act like they knew him. Then he didn’t have the time or energy to cut it himself after...everything. 

Now he’s looking at Martin, though. It’s odd, yes. Intimate? Definitely. He doesn’t know whether to close his eyes or keep them open. But he’s always found it very hard to turn his gaze away from Martin regardless.

His eyes are a lovely shade of deep blue, and he has far too many scars alongside the smattering of freckles on his face. He looks tired. Very much so. There’s crows feet at the corners of his eyes and lines on his forehead. He notes absently that he actually has a thick beard, too. Of course he noticed it beforehand - he’s felt it scratching the back of his neck when he wakes in the morning with Martin’s arms around him - but it’s worth pointing out. It makes him look much older, especially since the grey in it seems to be overtaking the red. 

Martin stands up straight and runs his hands through Jon’s hair a few times before standing back, head tilted to the side. 

“I think we’re done. It’s not amazing, but.”

Jon is already shrugging off the towel and heading to the bathroom mirror, feeling weirdly nervous. 

He certainly looks different. Unfortunately, though he searched high and low for them, Daisy doesn’t own any clippers. Martin did the best he could with what he had - he’s kept it a bit longer towards the front, some strands grazing his forehead, but the rest is cropped closely to his scalp. Jon tentatively touches it and leans forward. He tries to grasp a chunk of it, see if it’s long enough to pull. He fails. 

“It’s perfect.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes,” Jon says firmly. “It’s just what I needed.” He walks back over to Martin and wraps his arms around him instinctively, sighing with contentment when he responds in kind. 

“Thank you,” he mumbles into Martin’s t-shirt. 

“Of course.” Martin is stroking the back of his neck gently. “You look very handsome.”

Jon’s face burns at the compliment, and he chooses to hide it further rather than reply. They stand there for a while, hair scattered around the floor like autumn leaves, and it feels like a new beginning. 

[chaoticneutralwriter]

GD!Jimin Extras: Golden Hour

As they say, taking a picture lasts longer.

guardian demon!jimin x reader

genre: supernatural, fluff, romance, angst, slow-burn

word count: 2.2k

related works: see Masterlist under guardian demon!jimin au

A snapshot of the days before The Storm

A/N: Shout out to @azulamakesmeblank​ because this was partially inspired by this ask! As promised, a fluff chapter before the literal shit storm that’s about to take place in the story (butisitreallywhenyoureadthelastlineofthispromptwhat:’)) I hope you enjoy it! it’s kinda half edited dkfhgha I love you guys as always for your support and patience for this story! 💖💖💖💖

Tags: @cherryjiminiee @kokobaekkie @breathebangtan @itsadoozie @thatshylatina @chiminieboi @azulamakesmeblank @sectumsemptae @awkwardwookie @aduky @poisonseashell @shortannoyingginger @caramelmac-chiato @sana-b @jiminstinct @beautifulparisiangirl @taelieninvader @ggukjitaejin @xakemi-chiix @vantaenims @atulipandarose​ @moments-of-melancholy @xclo02 @cherub-kookie @gottadreamitallaway​ @indiesy​ @disn3yfreak @oerangdoongi @definitelynotshady​ @youmaiiwasherebeforeu​ 

You arrive at the front door a little too breathlessly in your haste. It should be embarrassing but blaming your increased pulse on your lack of fitness has your mind and, ironically, your heart resting easier than having to think that you're actually half-nervous and half-excited to see Jimin again.

Even though you literally saw him just yesterday.

You really need to pull yourself together better; you'd rather not have a repeat of pouring tomato sauce all over the counter because your hands got too shaky from Jimin watching you cook dinner (and after you insisted on him not needing to do anything too!)

You take in a fortifying breath, appearing to be squaring up to take the final stand in saving the world instead of simply seeing your boyfriend for what's essentially a stay-in dinner date. You punch in the pass code to the lock pad with practised ease, almost not giving enough time for the beep to chime as you push the door open.

“Jimin?” You call out in greeting once you toe off your shoes and slip on your pair of house slippers. Your eyes scan over the vast living room, spotting the head of raven locks peeking out from the end of the couch. Stepping closer, a smile sneaks its way onto your lips when you realize that he's most likely resting, given his lack of response. Quietly, you step into the kitchen area to set down your bags of grocery on the counter before you make your way to peer over the back of the seat. You're instantly smitten at what you see.

The sun is beginning to make its descent below the horizon, dying the clouds in an ombre of fiery oranges, pinks and reds against the remnants of soft pale blue sky. Thanks to the generous amount of window space the penthouse has, the golden glow easily washes over the interior of the living room and bathes everything with its light; Jimin being no exception.

It cascades over his skin like honey, high-lighting the bridge of his nose, the tops of his cheeks, and the shape of his cupid's bow. It makes his long lashes stand out so delicately and the equally dark strands of hair that falls gently over his forehead. Your fingers itch to sweep them away yet at the same time, you don't dare risk disturbing this sleeping beauty.

So unconsciously, you silently settle yourself on the top of the couch, resting your elbows on the cushion with your head propped up in your hand.

He looks so completely relaxed, one arm tucked behind his head, the other draped over his stomach. The sleeves of his shirt rolled up to his elbow, forearms toned and the first few buttons undone to expose a teasing view of his collarbones while black slacks hug his thighs perfectly (as per usual). If someone were to take a picture of him right now and slap on some big fashion name on it, you're pretty sure anyone who would see it would believe it to be a legit advertisement or a cover of a magazine.

Now that the thought has crossed your mind, temptation begins to rear its head. From the beginning, it's a no brainer what you imagine one would do given the opportunity of having a guardian demon that looks like the carbon copy of your favourite idol; do whatever you can to prevent said demon from stepping out into the world and risk slandering the actual person they're parading around as, or indulge in your wildest fantasies now that you have the means.

It's....a rather unique position to be in, with a plethora of mixed feelings to say the least.

After the initial shock of it wore off (which was really just taking three business day to process it all), you've come to the conclusion that this whole thing was, more than anything, weird. Some people might be able to turn a blind eye and though you're grateful that he had decided to look like Park Jimin from BTS, no matter how good of a disguise it was, it still doesn't change the fact that it's not Jimin.

You were grateful, but it made you a little resentful towards him.

With such a stark contrast, it's as if all of the good things you associated with that face had been sullied for something colder and unfeeling. You hated that he had chosen to use someone like Park Jimin – the perfect example of a good human being – to mask his much more sinister nature. You were sure it was part of some sick joke, and it felt...wrong.

Like you've lost part of a safe space in your world to the uglier side of the universe.

So in an attempt to preserve Jimin's good name in your heart, you were adamant in keeping your guardian demon at arms' length, hence why doing something as simple as taking a picture with him was out of the question. Not only would it not be in good faith, you can't begin to imagine what would happen if it got out to the world somehow.

And you succeeded....in the most unexpected way possible.

Maybe it was the deep rooted connection you had for Jimin, but there was always, without a doubt, a part of you that was soft to him. At first it had irked you, however over time, you realized it allowed for you to see another part of him that you wouldn't have otherwise. It made you open up to the idea that....he's not as bad as he seems.

You were afraid of losing a piece to your safe space when really, you ended up gaining an entirely new one instead, one that had become just as important.

So maybe that's why, as the longer you stared at Jimin (who's not Jimin but that doesn't mean he's worth anything less), the more you wanted to preserve this memory of him to keep for yourself. It's selfish you know, but things have changed, you've changed, and this is too good of a chance to pass up.

Your phone is out, hands steady as you pull up the camera and you want to laugh at how the image on your screen does no justice in capturing just how ethereal the sight before you is (of course it doesn't, should you really be surprised?) That doesn't stop your finger from tapping the snap button, because as they say, taking a picture lasts longer. The shot is satisfactory enough, getting him at an angle that show him from the waist up. You wonder if you can get another one, this time a little wider....

Well, you'll never know if you'd ever get the shot because your guardian demon chooses to wake up at that moment, locking piercing eyes with you through the phone. You immediately freeze.

There's a pause on his end before you see him pinpoint exactly what is going and a sly smirk tugs imperceptibly at the corner of his lips. “Cherub....” He greets, the low drawl sultry and irises pools of rich melted chocolate.

You gulp, straightening up while trying to inconspicuously put away your phone, a sheepish grin stretching across your face. “Rest well....?”

Jimin pretends to hum in deep thought, shifting so that he's facing more comfortably towards you. “For a good while yes....until my demon senses started tingling, telling me I was being watched. Should I be mildly concerned that you like watching me sleep?”

You scoff, “I don't always watch you sleep.”

“And you totally weren't snapping stalker photos of me.”

Your jaw drops, affronted but you don't go on to deny the claim. “Hey, calling them stalker photos is a stretch. And I'm just saying this because this was the only time I've ever – oof!”

Without warning, his hand had shot out to grab a hold of one of your wrist hanging over the back and with a strong tug, you fall face first onto his chest, an arm encircling you to keep you in place.

“Whatever you wanna call it, doesn't change that I'm still going to charge you for them.” You hear him playfully chastise above you. When you tilt your head up, you see him quirk an eyebrow at you expectantly. You blink, then roll your eyes, pretending to be inconvenienced by his stinginess, as if you're not ready to give him everything if he so much as breathes a word of it.

“Alright, what do you want?”

Jimin doesn't say anything in response, simply staring at you with those bottomless eyes, a smoulder simmering beneath their surface that it has you drowning in their depths. He watches you, unperturbed by your squirming (actually amuses in it) before you practically hear him purr, “What do you think I want?”

Your heart easily skips a beat (or more) and you're sure he can feel it beating frantically from your chest to his. While you're internally combusting, Jimin remains the picture definition of smug, free arm still propped behind his head the same time the other is wrapped around your waist, your face heating at the way you feel his thumb stroke at the strip of warm skin peeking out thanks to your shirt riding up a bit in the tumble.

He's actually infuriating, you think. Why's he gotta be so damn good at what he does?! You don't think he's even trying. Ugh, get it together, this is nothing new so it's not even a big deal! You can be cool about it too!

Giving yourself a chaotic pep talk apparently is what helps you find the courage to scooch up until you're able to land a chaste peck on the centre of his lips. Before you can fully withdraw, you already see the unimpressed look Jimin is shooting your way.

“I know you can do better than that.”

You puff, chewing on your lower lip into a pout; the deadpan in his voice makes you grumble at being called out, your neck and the tips of your ears burning now. Seeing you so flustered though, Jimin couldn't help but be endeared, then finally decide to ease up on the teasing he's been relentlessly subjecting you to. Slowly, he lowers the arm behind his head to gently take a hold on your chin, bringing your attention back to the adoring smile softening his features.

“Pretty cherub,” He coaxes, “Won't you give a little sweet treat for me?”

It takes everything in you to suppress the small whimper that wanted to jump out from the base of your throat at hearing those words. Whether it's teasing, cocky Jimin or loving, doting Jimin, you really aren't built to handle any of them at all, seemingly defaulting to a blushing mess no matter how hard you try be unfazed. Which is why after a moment of resigning to your fate, accepting that there was no point resisting when your heart and body have already betrayed you, do you close your eyes and give in wholeheartedly.

He welcomes you, carefully lets you mould your lips to his for a proper kiss and you helplessly melt against him. You don't think you can ever get used to the feeling but it's like Jimin doesn't mind one bit, pace unhurried to savour every press like it’s your first. Your mind becomes muddled the longer it goes on, and when you feel the swipe of his tongue, you're nearly gone. But as tempting as it is, you can't get too carried away here �� you still have dinner to cook!

You allow yourself a few tantalizing licks before you part with great reluctance. Through hazy eyes you meet Jimin's, the little breath you have hitching from the sight of his swollen, moistened lips and dark brown irises now glowing a muted maroon, on the verge of igniting into full blown desire.

“Can't have you spoiling dinner so early.” You say, then embarrassingly avert your gaze at how your voice comes out raspy and thick.

You miss the way the corner of Jimin's mouth twitch, but catch the mischievous glint that's no doubt from mentioning the word 'dinner'. You put on your best scolding face, smacking his chest lightly in reprimand.

“No.”

“I didn't even say anything.” His incredulous retort is drowned out by the laugh he lets out with it, the sound has you struggling to maintain your 'serious' front.

“You were thinking it.”

“Are you sure it's not you projecting your own thoughts onto me?”

You humphed, about to turn away and get off your personal body pillow but Jimin's hold remains steadfast. He sneaks a quick kiss to your forehead once you settle back down again as a means to placate you, chuckling softly, “Okay, okay, I'll behave.”

You giggle lightly, cheeks pressed into his collarbone as you give an approving hum, cuddling even closer to his person and you both lapse into a comfortable silence, breaths in sync. Outside, the final rays of the setting sun disappears below the city's horizon, taking the warmth of the day along with it.

But you find no lack in that when you're lying here in his embrace, because whereas the sun comes and goes, yours remains unwavering.

[danny-phantom-writings]

Little Things - Pt 5

Summary: "If someone listened to the Ghost Zone that day, they would know something great was about to happen. The realm practically sang it’s joy to all who would listen."

Or, Dan gets redeemed through parenthood or something.

Pt. 1  Pt. 2 Pt. 3  Pt. 4  Pt. 5 Pt.6

Read it on AO3!

-

The little ghost had a physical body now, though there was still a ways for them to go. They were very much there but only as a vague shape that morphed and flowed, a light that swirled with hints of blues and purples. It reminded Dan of those little blob ghosts, though those had always been green and were smaller than them by this point. It was frankly remarkable to see how much they had grown from that little ball of light.

Of course, that still left them very small, maybe reaching his elbow from his wrist if they stretched, which was something they liked to do. Whenever he crossed his arms they would lounge there, nuzzling into his chest. They felt safe there and he had to admit, it did wonders to calm him down when his temper flared.

They were pretty cuddly in general, honestly, and would snuggle in whenever they needed to rest. Being as little as they were, they needed a lot of sleep to preserve energy for growing.

Though, they didn’t usually sleep for this long.

He was sitting on a bed this time, back against the headboard and the little ghost snuggled close to his chest. His back was actually starting to hurt from being pressed against the wood for so long, but he forced himself to sit still.

He knew they were okay. He could still feel their core going strong, pulsing with energy. It was the only thing keeping him from getting too worried. Besides, if something bad was going to happen Clockwork would have told him. As much as he hated the other ghost, he was sure he would help if anything came up. That’s just what he was like.

He did notice that they were changing a lot in their sleep, slowly morphing into something more human-like, less small form-less pixie and more little child. It wasn’t blatantly obvious. You couldn’t tell just by looking at them. But, if you stared hard enough for long enough you could tell something was changing. It was most clear by comparing how they looked from moment to moment. Perhaps it was some weird ghost growth-spurt. He supposed that was as acceptable an answer as any.

He really wished he knew more about how young ghosts worked. Maybe he should read a book or something,

They did eventually wake up, of course, just looking different. So incredibly different.

They looked like a little girl now, about the size of a toddler, he would guess, albeit a small one. She had the same blue skin as many other ghosts, somehow managing to form clothes for herself, a simple purple t-shirt a few shades lighter than the robes Clockwork wore. She still didn’t have legs, just a dark blue ghostly tail curled loosely around his wrist. He especially liked her hair, like blue flames framing her little sleeping face, occasionally streaked with a bright strand of purple that vanished as quickly as it appeared. It was quite a mess, though, and there was a lot of it. He would have to put it up. At least fire hair was something he knew about and had plenty of practice with.

Because it was just like his.

That really shouldn’t have hit him as hard as it did.

She stretched out, little fists going to her face to rub the sleep out of her eyes. She blinked up at him with brilliant red eyes, a smile immediately breaking out over her face.

“Well good morning, sleepy head. Are we finally awake?”

She gave a big yawn before nodding with a hum. An actual hum this time, not the odd noises her core made. He supposed that meant she would have to start learning to talk soon, now that she actually had a voice.

He could already hear the constant questions.

“Here, sit still for me real quick, okay?”

He gently placed her in his lap, making sure she would sit still at least for a little bit. He could tell it wouldn’t last long by the way she thrashed her tail and constantly looked from one spot to another, so he made sure to make it quick. He ran a hand through her hair a few times, allowing himself to enjoy the blue flames' warmth before gathering it together in a ponytail. Her hair did behave a bit different than his, smoothing out easily enough on top (he wasn’t able to get all the flames in place, but a few fly aways wasn’t too bad) but going absolutely insane when tied off. He just couldn’t manage to get it to behave, so he eventually gave up, letting it sit in a low ponytail along her back, looking like it would burn her shirt if he didn’t know that wasn’t how it worked.

The moment he stopped she was gone, flying around and touching everything she could. He chuckled, letting himself just sit and watch her for a while. Or up until she dashes out of the room.

He followed her through the halls until she reached the viewing room. She flew up to sit on one of the rafters, looking down to where Clockwork always stood watching his screens. He could feel her curiosity bright as always in his chest, could almost see the little gears turning away in her head.

He settled on the same rafter behind her, his own tail curling around her, just in case. He crossed his arms in front of him and rested his head on them, willing to sit back and watch what she decides to do.

For a while longer she sat there and watched, clutching at his tail. Then, with a glance towards his face for reassurance, she flew down to one of the gears, hiding behind it and peering past to Clockwork. She was clearly trying to sneak up on him and even though Dan knew it wasn’t going to actually work he was keen to find out how well she would do. So far she had been exceptionally quiet, not a sound coming from her even when she touched the odd metal of the gear.

She dashed behind another gear, one closer to the ground where Clockwork was, then another, and another. Finally, she was as close as she could get. She watched him closely from her hiding spot before jumping out, landing on his head and clinging to him.

“Well hello there, little one.” He said with a chuckle, the little ghost leaning down to look at his face. “Someone had a growth spurt.”

She patted his face and flew away, back to Dan in the rafters. She decided to settle by his side, core humming with delight. His core hummed back.

“Way to go, kid.” He praised, ruffling her flaming hair. “You definitely caught him by surprise. Very sneaky.”

She beamed under his praise, even going as far as purring and snuggling into his side.

“You will have to name her eventually, you know.” Clockwork interrupted the moment. Dan glared at him.

“No, really? I was just going to call her ‘kid’ the rest of her life.”

CLockwork just smirked and turned back to his screens.

Dan glared a few more moments before he looked down to the little ghost, her big red eyes staring back, a bright smile on her face.

He had no idea what he was supposed to name the kid.

Obviously he knew it was something he needed to do, it just wasn’t really something he had thought about. It was hard to care enough to think up a name when she was just a light flying around, or a pixie-like creature. But now that she actually looked like a proper ghost he supposed he might as well think up something.

“You wouldn’t happen to already have a name picked out, would you?”

She just blinked at him.

“Yeah, I thought not.”

[desertofsnowflakes]

Incorrect Order Chapter 7 (Nessian AU)

A/N: Do inform me if you wanna be added/removed from the taglist! If you happen to find my storyline similar to another fic or one of yours, I'm extremely sorry, I might've just not known. All characters belong to the author Sarah J. Mass. Enjoy!

Summary: Don't first impressions always affect the way you see someone? Well, what more with the Nesta Archeron? Nesta meets Cassian at few unexpected places and to say it didn't go well was a major understatement. Certain circumstances make them become enemies to tolerable company to friends to lovers.

Trigger Warnings: none ig

2097 words | Incorrect Order Masterlist | Read on AO3

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Wearing a tee is fairly simple. Just bunch it up and pull it over his neck, then, put his arms through. That's it. This is the third time he was trying to get himself in this damn t-shirt. The first time, he wore it the other way round. The next time he accidentally tried putting his neck where his arm was meant to go. He got snarled in the t-shirt in the process. It's a miracle the garment hadn't ripped off. His brushed hair also got mussed and tangled in the process.

Cassian sighed and held his dark brown tee up. His mind was still playing his memories with Nesta on loop. It just wouldn’t stop. Not when he was sulking, bathing, changing—

The doorbell rang. A quick glance at his wall clock confirmed that the hour was ungodly enough that most would be asleep. Wondering who exactly it was, Cassian opened the door—

—and his mind blanked out. There, standing in front of him, in all her glory was Nesta. Nesta, who had snapped at him earlier. Nesta in a white oversized sweater and black tight-fit leggings. A small bag was slung on her shoulder. He was pretty sure he was gawking like an idiot. He forced his mouth to shape her name.

***

“Nesta,” he breathed. Nesta could hear awe and reverence in his voice. So much that she shivered. There was pain in his voice too. Tears pricked her eyes. How selfish of her to run to him even after she hurt him. But she couldn’t turn away. Not now, not after walking from her home to here. She closed her eyes and swallowed. His bare torso didn’t help matters either. His torso was a wonderful masterpiece. His tattoos were starker in the moonlight. She longed to trace them with her fingers. Nesta immediately shut that train of thought. She didn’t come here for that. She came here because of Tomas. That’s it.

Cassian was peering over her shoulders when she opened her eyes. Frowning, he asked, “How did you come here? Has your cab left?”

“No,” she said. “I walked here.” His eyes snapped to her face. He took a step back and opened the door wider, “Come in,” he said.

Nesta could feel his eyes on her while she stepped through the threshold and took her time to look through his house. It wasn’t as big as Feyre’s but it was bigger than her apartment. She saw a rumpled t-shirt discarded on the dark blue couch and reigned in a smile. She heard the click of the lock and turned to face him. He looked at her and ran a hand through his hair, tousling it further. Her eyes tracked the wispy strands moving in between his slender, long fingers. Cauldron, she thought, this was going to be very difficult, indeed.

He nodded at the couch, “Have a seat. You must be tired. How long was the walk?” he queried.

She took her seat on the soft couch and replied, “Around half an hour including a short break I took.”

He nodded. The pained expression, mixed with one of longing, didn't leave his face yet. “Why are you here Nesta? Truly? Just a few hours ago, you were screaming in my face and now, you’re in my house looking rattled. What do you want?”

Nesta stared at her hands resting on her lap, took in a ragged breath and said, “Tomas.”

The shock was evident on his face. “Tomas?” he repeated. She saw as the shock on his face bled and became anger. “Did he disturb you again?” he demanded.

“No,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around herself. “No. He wasn’t really even there. I was on my bed. Trying to get some sleep. I couldn’t sleep, I kept tossing and turning on my bed. Sleep felt so far away. But after sometime I think I fell asleep. Then I felt like I woke up. It was bright. It all felt weird to me. And that was when I saw him. He was in my room. His hand was around my neck, squeezing. He was talking and talking.” The words were gushing out of her now, a panicked flow of words. She continued, “Then he slapped me. He also had a knife with him. He kept threatening me. Telling me about the way he said he wanted to kill me. And—and he used his knife on me. He stabbed my arm and kept dragging upward slowly. It hurt like hell. That was what I didn’t understand. The pain. It all felt very real. Most of all, my pain.” She looked back at Cassian. He was silently listening, she was grateful for that. “That’s why I came here,” she admitted. “I got scared. The vulnerability I felt… I want to be ready when he comes back. And he will come back. He isn’t the type to let things go. I need your help. Help me,” she pleaded. She wasn’t aware of the tear escaping her eye.

Cassian got up and seated himself beside her. He cupped her cheek. Unconsciously, she leaned closer to him. He gently brushed her tears away. “I’ll help you,” he said gently. “You’ll be ready. When the time comes, you’ll be ready. I’ll make sure of it. Only if you call me Cass.”

She grinned. “That wouldn’t be very difficult,” she said.

***

Cassian felt like he was selling his soul in a bargain to the devil. He knew. He knew that this wouldn’t end well for him. He knew he’ll end up having his heart broken. But he couldn’t resist. He couldn’t bring himself to say no to her.

Nesta wrapped her arms around his middle. He froze. The sensation of her hands on his bare skin was a shock to his senses and elicited a shiver down his spine. “Thank you,” she said. “Thank you so much. Really.” she gave him a playful smile. “Cass,”she said with more emphasis than necessary. And Mother, he didn’t regret letting her call him Cass one bit.

She yawned and stretched like a cat. He liked that too, he decided.

“Have you slept?” he asked.

“A bit. You?”

He shook his head. He gestured to her to follow him up the stairs. “You can sleep here till dawn in Mor’s room. You know, the room you used the last time.”

“Cass,” she said. He halted, turning back to face her. “I really need to say this. I’m sorry. Truly. I shouldn’t have said what I did last night.”

He didn’t say it’s okay because it really wasn’t. He just nodded, acknowledging her apology, showing her that he couldn’t forget how much it hurt him but he’ll try to come to terms with both of their mistakes. They reached Mor’s door.

She hesitated. “I don’t have any clothes to change to,” she said.

“It’s fine,” he said. “Mor’s clothes would fit you, though it would be slightly loose. You can also use the bathroom to wash up or anything else you want to do. I’ll be in the room down the corridor—” he said, gesturing to the second last door— “so just knock if you need anything, okay?”

She nodded and thanked him again before closing the door and preparing for bed. He entered his room and plopped on the bed. It might’ve been how tired he felt or it might have been her presence two rooms away, but in mere minutes, Cass was fast asleep.

***

A few fast and hard knocks on his door woke Cassian from his sleep. Groggily, he opened the door to find Nesta in a tank top and shorts. Very short shorts. She looked disturbed, though.

“What happened?” he asked her.

“I can’t sleep,” she said, her voice small.

Cassian’s heart, or at least, what was left of it, broke. He hated to see this. Cold, sharp Nesta now, standing in front of him, scared and afraid. He felt a surge of protectiveness in him. He wanted to tuck her to his side and shield her from every and any harm that would come to her.

He held his hand out for her and brought her into his room. “Sit,” he gestured to his bed, “What do you want to do?”

She smiled tentatively, “Would you tell me about yourself? We haven’t introduced ourselves properly. I think I want to hear more about you from you yourself. And if you want… I could tell you some things about myself too.”

He sat on the bed beside her and said, “That’ll be fun.” He saw this not only as a means to escape the horrid things in her head, but also as a peace offering. He couldn’t forgive and forget the things she told him earlier but he could try to play along with her patching up.

“Who’s gonna start first?” she asked.

He dramatically placed his hand on his bare chest in a variation of a bow and said, “After you, my lady.”

She laughed and asked, “Do you ever wear a shirt at home?”

“Why? Getting distracted already?”

“Can’t you just answer my question?” she asked hotly, though a light blush was creeping up her cheeks.

The corner of his lips kicked up a notch, “I do wear shirts at home.”

“Good,” she said and opened her mouth to continue when he interrupted her.

“Wait,” he said, “Now, you haven’t answered my question.”

“I didn’t deem it worthy enough to answer.”

He pouted, “You wound me, Nes.”

“Stop being overdramatic. And don’t call me Nes!” she snapped half heartedly.

“Twice,” aggrievedly, he said, “you wounded me twice. Also,” he smirked, leaning closer to her, “you like it.”

“Like which?”

“Being called Nes.”

“I don’t.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Now you’re the one who’s getting distracted. What did we plan for and what are we doing now? If this is how things are gonna be, I think you’ll prove to be a very bad teacher.”

“Now, Nes, you need to know that I’m good at many, many things and would prove to be an extremely focused teacher,” he said, voice husky. He knew she caught his meaning when the blush on her cheeks deepened. He leaned back on his palms, “Go on.”

So she spoke. She told him of her time when both her parents were alive; of the time when they grieved their mother’s death; when she kept herself away from her sisters after becoming orphans; when she made the mistake of falling for Tomas. “Honestly,” she had told him, “when I look at him now, I wonder how I fell in love with him in the first place.” She then told him of how her relationship with Tomas was a toxic one; him being abusive and controlling; how he made her feel low of herself; how he never respected her; how he kept cheating on her. She told Cassian of the day Tomas hit her and accused her of cheating just because he saw her paying for her groceries at a male’s counter. She told him of how she called the police immediately after and got him behind bars. By the time she was over, Nesta was curled by his side, tears silently streaming down her beautiful face, him rubbing soothing circles on her back.

Then he told her about himself. He decided to tell her the plain truth without any alterations. She deserved it. But it felt intimate, somehow, sharing the details he hadn’t spoken out loud. Even Az and Rhys had only seen what he did and never pushed afterwards. He told her as much before telling her about how much he loved his mother; of how he never knew his father and that was for his father’s own good; of how his mother was killed one day while he was at school; of how he beat the men involved into pulp; of how he was called a brute and a bastard there on; of how he first met Rhys and Az at his school; of how Rhys’s mother took him in as her own son; of the silly things and the trouble the trio would create.

“You are a very good friend, Cass. And an even better man,” Nes said

His heart warmed. He said, “Don’t care about what Tomas said. You’re a beautiful, intelligent, brave, witty and sharp woman. And I,” he paused, “I like you very much as a friend too.”

He didn’t understand the short pang of disappointment on his face. All he could think was, shit, I almost said I loved her.

taglist: @shadowsinger07 @im-someone-i-guess @saltyfortunes @cressjacquine @champanheandluxxury @zemiraa @nehemikkele @angelic-voice-1997 @heartless--aromantic @sv0430 @vinylcryes @deedz-thrillerkilller16 @sjm-things @dontgetsalmonella @ganseys-jane

[akaashisbabygirl]

Words: 2321

Pairings: Sugawara x reader

Warnings: Characters are aged up, dominant Suga, submissive reader, reader is on birth control, oral (giving), restraints (arms and legs), vibrator use, vaginal penetration, slight hair pulling, Suga calling you sweetheart

A/n: holy shit, this is my longest fic yet. I hope everyone is enjoying kinktober so far <3

Sugawara’s kisses were filled with passion and love. His hand on your cheek, holding your soft skin between his thumb and pinky finger. His lips were soft on yours, softer than the feeling of lip balm spreading across your light pink lips. His eyes stared at yours as he pulled away for some air. From the look he wore on his face, you were able to tell that something was up.

Did Suga want to go a little further than usual today? Or maybe he didn’t feel like having sex at all? Or… just maybe, he wanted to try something else.

Suga was nothing like the boy you thought he was when the two of you first met each other. Meeting the quiet, grey haired boy in your first year, you thought he was going to be the quiet type that sits there, plays volleyball and reads books. However, you were wrong. The two of you had started dating halfway through your second year, and only began having sex in your third year. Suga was different to what you expected. Never one would the thought of his freaky side came through to enter your mind.

Not even once.

“Something’s up,” you say, your hand resting on his cheek, “What is it, Kōshi?”

Sugawara was silent for a minute, overthinking his thoughts.

“It’s nothing, baby. Don’t worry about it.”

“No, please. Tell me.”

“It’s nothing you would be into… please, sweetheart, don’t worry about it,” he let a smile fall onto his soft, delicate face.

“You say I wouldn’t be into it… is this something to do with the bedroom?” you ask, curiosity now filling your mind as you wanted to know exactly what he had been thinking about.

“I- yeah…” he admitted.

“Please… tell me,” your thumb began to stroke his face, slowly giving him signs of encouragement.

“I want to try bondage….” He admitted, a slight, rosy, red blush spreading across his cheeks as he admitted the sinful truth.

“Oh…. Bondage…”

“Yes- I’m so sorry. I know it’s kinda weird and stuff for you… we don’t have to do it if you don’t wanna…” he began.

“No… I… um… kinda wanna try it,” you admit.

Suga’s lips formed an ‘o’ shape as the words replayed in his head. You wanted to try bondage?

“Are you sure? I don’t wanna hurt you or anything… I- please don’t feel that you have to do this because I would like to, I don’t wanna force you to do anything you don’t want to do!”

“Kōshi… I’m serious. I would like to try it.”

“R-really? You don’t mind if I like… um… tie you up and use toys on you and stuff?” he asked.

“Yes. I would love if you did that actually. I’ve been thinking about it for a while actually. I wanna see your dominant… dominant side,” you giggled.

Suga could only smile at the way you giggled. It gave him courage, knowing that you wanted to try out the same thing as him.

“Okay… let’s do it,” he smiled.

Suga leaned forward, pressing one last kiss to your lips before getting off the bed. His hands pulled one of the spare drawers open – the same drawer where the two of you kept all your toys.

Sitting himself down on the bed, he let the ropes fall onto the bedsheets.

“I’m going to undress you now.”

You nodded sightly, eyes following how Suga’s hands moved to pull your (his) large shirt from your body. Underneath, you wore small shorts, ones which showed off your thighs to his prying eyes. You didn’t wear a bra, mainly because of the fact that you were lounging around the house with your boyfriend. Unbuttoning your shorts, tugging them down your legs, his eyes met with the dark, lace blue panties you wore underneath. His eyes widened – loving the way your panties wrapped around your hips, adding the colour to your beautiful skin.

“I’m going to leave these on,” Suga said, as his fingers traced over the lace of your panties, “Can you turn around for me?”

Being the submissive one in this situation, you complied with his orders. You turned your body around, your back now facing his front. Your eyes watched as Suga left the bed, moving back to the drawer to pick up a few more items. Did he not have everything he wanted? He came back, holding a black cloth in his hands – a blindfold.

“I’m gonna put the blindfold on now,” he said, his hands moving to tuck your hair behind your head. He removed your sight with the blindfold, preventing you from seeing anything else.

“Hands behind your back, sweetheart,” he mumbled, his soft voice ringing in your ear.

You moved your hands behind your back, feeling as how Suga held onto them, crossing them over one another, the feeling of the harsh rope digging into your skin as he tied knots around your wrists, holding them in place tightly. Suga’s hands moved you, so that your back was now resting against the headboard. You felt Suga pull himself from the bed, hearing his faint footsteps walking to the other side of the room. Was he going to get something else to use?

Lost in your thoughts, you felt the bed dip at the bottom, a warm, soft hand moving in between your thighs, separating them lightly.

“Spread your legs for me, sweetheart.”

Your legs spread wide, the wet spot on your panties becoming evident. Suga could tell that you were excited for this – maybe even more excited than he is. He pushed your panties to the side, a low, soft pant leaving your lips as you felt a toy enter your dripping cunt. Suga pulled your panties back over your cunt, hiding it from his eyes. Was it a vibrator?

“Move to your knees,” he commanded, his hands helping you as you tried to pull yourself to your knees.

Sitting on your knees, your hands tied tightly behind your back, a blindfold draped over your eyes, you could only imagine what were to happen next. You felt your body being pushed down onto the bed, Suga’s soft hands coming to your ankles, wrapping the thick rope around your legs, tying them together. A small gasp escaped your lips as you felt his hands move from your legs, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. How did he get there so fast?

“I want you to suck me off, pretty girl,” he mumbled, his thumb beginning to stroke your cheek once again.

How was that possible? He was still fully dressed.

“H-how…” you mumbled out, unable to move your hands from their tight restraints.

“Use your mouth.”

You could see the smirk in his voice. You moved your face closer to him, as his hand helped guide your face down to his waist. Your mouth shakily pulled his pants down his legs. It wasn’t that hard, mainly because he was standing at the edge of the bed. Even though it took a lot of work, and a little help from him, you managed to pull his sweatpants down his legs successfully, a sigh of relief exiting your lips as you heard the soft material drop onto the floor. your face moved back to help pull his boxers off, with his help, of course.

Suga’s hand held onto your face, bringing your lips to meet with his erect cock.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he groaned lightly as you wrapped your lips around the tip.

Suga has always been someone who was to let out moans rather than conceal them when the two of you were supported by the four walls of your shared bedroom. His fingers dug into your hair, holding tightly on your soft strands as he directed your mouth to take more of him. Your tongue traced along the vein, having him let a soft moan escape his lips. You desperately tried to wriggle your hands from their restraints – but it was no use. Suga had tied them too tight. Your mind started to wonder around the thoughts of why he placed a toy in you? What was he going to use it for?

Your knees dug into the bed as you heard the small click of what sounded like a button, followed by soft vibrations in your cunt. You let out a moan around his length, causing him to groan out.

“Just like that, pretty girl,” he cooed, his free hand moving to stroke your face softly. You looked absolutely sinful with his length in your mouth.

Your panties were drenched by now, your juices leaking through the thin material, able to feel your arousal on your bent legs. You tried rocking your hips back and forth, trying to get some friction onto your mistreated cunt. Your hips rocked back, meeting the back of your foot, just able to grind your clothed cunt on the body part. A soft moan escaped your lips from the sudden feeling.

“Don’t touch yourself… stop doing that,” Suga commanded, tugging on your hair, a slight whimper leaving your mouth.

“That’s a good fucking girl,” his moans were louder.

He was going to cum soon. Unable to see his face falling apart, you could tell by his moans, which began to steadily increase, a loud groan leaving his lips as he came inside your mouth. Suga pulled his length from your mouth, watching as you swallowed his load, taking in how the leftovers dripped from your mouth, down your shin. He moved his thumb to your lips, cleaning the leftover cum from its resting spot.

“Are you going to cum soon?” he asked, his fingers coming into contact with your hardened nipples.

You moaned out louder, feeling the speed of the vibrator increase. He was also desperate to bring you to your climax.

“Rock your hips for me,” he ordered.

Rocking your hips back and forth once more, your clit was finally able to get some attention it had been longing for. The knot in your lower stomach quickly snapped, your cum rushing like a wave, flooding your panties.

Suga’s hands moved to untie your legs. Your legs were free, however, you weren’t able to love the feeling of your legs able to move properly, because your back now had come into contact with the bed. Suga’s hands tugged your panties down, admiring at the way your cum had already stained the beautiful lace of your panties.

“You’ve made such a mess, haven’t you, sweetheart?” he commented.

His lewd comments could only make you blush in response. You let out a whimper as you felt yourself being positioned from your back onto your knees once more, your face coming into contact with the fluffy pillows which decorated the bed. Suga’s hardened cock rubbed against your drenched folds, his hands coming into contact with your hips, a soft whine leaving his lips as he teased you with the head of his cock. Seconds later, he pushed his cock into you, your walls instantly wrapping tightly around him, as drool began to drip from your lips.

“K-Kōshi,” you moaned into the sheets, as his pain began to steadily grow. One of his hands were holding onto your waist, the other tangled in your hair.

“F-fucking me s-so good, K-Kōshi... ohh,” you felt his cock began to slightly kiss your cervix, sudden pleasure pouring throughout your body.

Your knees were dug into the bedsheets once more, the pain slowly exiting your mind as he made you see stars. His hands gripped your waist tighter, drool now falling from your lips onto the pillows below. Your legs became weak, unable to move on their own. Everything had left your mind, your head now only filled with the magical way Suga was making you feel. The position you were in let him hit deeper than usual, your hands trying to free themselves behind your back. You tried rocking your hips back, your ass high up for him to grab onto as he tore you apart. His hand that held yours behind your back began to move, now tracing your stomach, all the way down to your clit, rubbing on your sensitive bud.

You let out moans of pleasure, the familiar knot in your lower stomach building up once more as your mind went blank. Your mind was empty, now only focusing on the way he made you feel, the way his cock would push past your tight walls, tearing you open, or how the way small moans and pants would escape his lips as he tried to continue with the pace he was setting.

“Fuck- I’m going to c-cum… I’m going to cum,” you announced, your body now losing full control, your moans increasing.

“Cum sweetheart,” he demanded, letting out a soft man as he felt you climax around his length.

Suga wasn’t going to last long now, he always would cum after you. His thrusts became faster, desperate to bring himself to his long awaited climax. Letting out a groan, he came inside of you, painting your walls white with his cum.

Slowly, he pulled out, untying your hands in the process and positioning you, letting your back fall flat against the soft sheets as your hand moved to remove your blindfold. Suga watched as your cum, which was now mixed with his, leak from your fucked out hole, before getting up and making his way over to the bathroom to grab a wet cloth to clean you up.

“Can we… you know, try that again sometime?” you asked Suga as he moved the cloth through your womanhood, cleaning you up as best as he could.

“Of course, sweetheart. Is there anything we could change for next time?” he asked, curious to know what you wanted to add in or take out.

“It was… perfect the way it was, Kōshi. Though, next time, I want to be the dom.”

© all content belongs to akaashisbabygirl 2020, do not repost or change

[stillbandofbrothersthirsty]

15, D, George Luz✨

Sweet George Luz, I love writing for him <3 Thank you for the request!

“Whatchya thinkin’ about?” Luz tapped his booted foot against her socked one. Gravity began to take over and his heavy boot pushed her leg down, making it slide down the wall back towards the bed.

“Hey!” she shrieked and giggled. They were laying on his cot in the corner of the barrack with their legs propped up against the wall. They had been talking for hours and found their current position to be the newest, comfortable way to chat.

“Hmm,” she considered his question then shrugged, “I don’t know, nothing.”

“Nothing!?” Luz exclaimed playfully, “that’s a first for Shira.”

She turned her head so that she was facing him with that wide smile of hers that he had grown to love, “weird of you to talk to me, about me, in third person.”

“Wouldn’t it be second person?”

“Ya know, I’m not sure,” Shira giggled.

“But you’re really not thinking about anything?” Luz asked. He took the opportunity to appreciate her hazel eyes and the smoothness of her cheeks.

“Mm, no,” she said with a little smile, “what’s on your mind?”

Luz threw his hands in the air, “I know I always got something to say but honestly now that you’ve put me on the spot I can’t think of anything!”

Shira giggled and high fived one of his outstretched hands. “Sounds like we’re all talked out.”

“Um,” Luz desperately tried to think of something more to say. She was looking at him with a similar thought in her mind but they only managed to stare at each other with half open mouths.

“Okay,” Shira finally said with a soft smile, “I should get back now.” In a tangle of legs and arms she spun her body off of the cot. "Enough bumming around," she said as she pulled on her boots.

Luz sighed, he didn’t want her to go but he had run out of reasons to get her to stay.

He watched as she passed through the barrack door, letting in a pool of sunshine. She was a vision of joy and had been since he had met her. Each morning Luz woke with the thought of her in his mind, and each night he went to bed mourning the day dreams that were annihilated by the day’s reminders of the impending war.

If it had been peace time Luz would be buying her flowers every day until she agreed to marry him. But with so much unknown ahead of them he contented himself with any moment of happiness he could steal away with her.

Sometimes he wondered if she knew how he felt. He hardly dared to wonder where her mind, or heart, was. He did what many would think impossible; he kept his mouth closed and his heart open.

One of their favorite places to escape to together was a valley around the bend from Currahee. In the summer the sloped landscape filled with daisies.

On a sunny afternoon, Luz stretched out his hand and wove his fingers in-between hers. Time slowed down as he watched her gaze travel up from their clasped hands to his brown eyes that were watching her. Then, with a child-like grin, he pulled her down the hill. She shrieked with laughter as they tumbled down into the field of tall grass and daisies.

They sprawled out in the grass. Only a few inches separated their shoulders and their fingertips just grazed each other. 



“Do you think you’re ready to go to war?” Shira asked in a soft voice. Luz watched the few puffy clouds float languorously across the blue sky. He wondered what the clouds would look like from a battlefield. In his mind, the sky grew red and the earth dark. The anxiety he was good about stamping down rose in his chest. Luz shook his head to try to clear his mind of such negative thoughts. “Are you okay?” Shira propped herself up to look at him with concern.

“I’m good,” he said re-focusing on the summer sky, “um, I don’t know.” He felt Shira settle herself back down beside him. This time she lay closer to him, their shoulders just touching. The scent of her hair wafted past on the breeze, intermingled with the smell of daisies and earth. “I don’t think anyone is ever ready until they get there," Luz said.



A comfortable silence settled over them as they individually lost their thoughts to unknowns. Luz hated thinking about the imminent war. He was determined to do his job, and to do it well. He enjoyed getting to know the men and learning how to be a radioman but he didn’t want to think about the obvious, much darker aspects of warfare. Eventually, there would be no avoiding them so why dwell on them now?

All Luz wanted was to feel the sun on his face and Shira beside him. He turned to look at her and once she felt his eyes on him she turned as well. She was so close to him now it would have taken very little to roll over and kiss her.

She was a vision. The grass was matted all around her and her golden hair was a mess of tendrils interwoven between the blades. It appeared as if a halo circled her smiling face.

Luz lifted his fingers to play with a rogue strand of hair that crisscrossed her forehead. Her hazel eyes softened at his touch.

“You’ll write me?” Luz asked with an unfamiliar tone of vulnerability in his voice.

She nodded, causing her halo to shift in the grass. Luz took his time memorizing every detail of her face. He had fallen in love with the angle of her mouth, the arch of her nose, and the spattering of light freckles that appeared on her cheekbones in the summer. There were no words to exchange, and nowhere to be, and all he wanted to do was look at her. This would be the memory he would go back to when his world got dark. He would re-visit this place of sunshine in his mind and think of Shira writing him letters until he returned home.