#and i get when its been hotter that it Feels somewhat relieving

[aropride]

i know objectively that people have different experiences with like. temperature. but 90ºf is Objectively Too Hot. like i cannot envision a world where thats an enjoyable temperature and im convinced everyone who says they enjoy it is Lying . like i cannot imagine a Type Of Guy who honestly enjoys that temperature. i am not doing a bit Do not try to change my mind i am right and perfect also. #black and white thinking

[meditating-dog-lover]

Skin - 2 weeks in (Friday update)

So my skin is red, dry, bumpy, and itchy, especially around my hands, wrist, neck, and behind my earlobes (my earlobes are also oozy). I do resist the urge to scratch, but sometimes it's hard not to. And even when I do, it's not that aggressive and I can stop eventually.

Thankfully I have not needed to use my medication. I know I mentioned this in an earlier post a few days ago, but this holds true till now. Also I've mentioned I have the bad habit of washing my hands with hot water, which relieves my itchiness. I've been doing this still, but to a lesser extent. I'll do it 2-3 times a day (since Wednesday). Before that, I'd do it more frequently. So there's another benefit.

My eczema got worse in January, but before that I did not feel the need to use topical medication, nor would I scratch with something abrasive to the point of bleeding, oozing and sponginess on my fingers. But I would experience dryness and inflammation, and would wash my hands under hot water. This was the case when I was on vacation during Christmas (I was washing my hands with hot water and did experience dryness and irritation which I managed with Vaseline and flaxseed oil). So there is some improvements happening. My skin is absolutely not perfect, but there is improvement in the sense where I don't need to use topical medication and I am washing my hands with hot water less. I can see my skin condition reverting back to how it was in December.

I did experience some itchiness behind my right earlobe at work today, but thankfully I wasn't able to scratch it because I was wearing gloves and cannot touch my skin when I'm working with gloves on. It went away on its own. There is some ooziness and crustiness, but it's not that bad. This evening I did experience itchiness on my neck, which I did directly scratch. It did cause some irritation, but it was minor and didn't result in severe inflammation (just some minor redness and a tiny small amount of bleeding). It should get better by a day or even less. My hands are itchy and I did scratch them with my nails, but not that hard. I did rub them under hot water, and the tap did run hot water (sometimes it's not hot enough) and the itch was relieved (the hotter it is the more relieving it is). Sometimes it hurts to close my hand into a fist, especially my right one (has worse eczema in general).

For some reason I feel extra itchy when I eat bread, which wasn't an issue in the past. I used to get severe inflammation after eating tomatoes, but not anymore. Looks like bread is my new temporary enemy that replaced tomatoes. But not for long. I've been eating bread and tomatoes for years with no immediate flareup/reaction to them, so it's weird. My neck started to itch after I had bread this evening. Besides tomatoes, chicken tenders (which is so odd) would make my skin flare in around Feb/Mar. I know it's not healthy and fried and processed foods increase inflammation, but it's still odd that I would react to that and tomatoes aggressively. Tomatoes are a nightshade food and contain histamine, but I never reacted to other nightshades (white potatoes and peppers) and other foods rich in histamine (strawberries, spinach, avocados, aged cheese).

Again the fact that I still feel itchiness and have dry, red, bumpy, and oozy skin does imply that my skin is still inflamed and needs time to heal. But I'm seeing improvement where I don't feel the immediate need to wash my hands 5+ times a day with hot water and use topical prescription medication and scratching aggressively to the point of bleeding, oozing, and sponginess on my fingers. Bread does somewhat cause me to experience redness and itchiness, especially on my face (not necessarily eczema) around my forehead, nose, eyebrows and mouth, but this issue is new and likely transient and will go away. Also I've been experiencing some angular cheilitis and I don't know what caused it. I woke up with it on Thursday morning, and I wore my retainer the night before. I stopped drooling in my sleep ever since I started breathing from my nose, and drooling does cause angular cheilitis. I'll see what the cause is eventually. Also I used to only get eczema on my hands and mouth, and now it spread to my neck, wrist, earlobes, and chest, which goes to show how bad it recently got.

I am not really using OTC topicals, though I did apply some zinc oxide (diaper rash cream) to my neck and earlobes. I like that it's soothing but hate that it's drying, which is why I didn't put it on my hands.

I expect things to get better and I'm optimistic. I feel like my supplement protocol is working. Everything will work out in the end just like a lot of other things in my life did.

New update: My hands are generally sensitive to hand creams, but I want to apply something to keep them hydrated as I'm healing. I applied the Avene lipid replenishing cream to my hands (the one that smells like Playdoh). Again I'm usually very sensitive to hand creams besides Vaseline, so I hope I can react well to this as my skin heals and as an alternative to steroids/tacrolimus.

[littlestartemis]

Did you follow me for deltarune fanfiction?

Damn, crying shame that is.

Anyway have like 3 pages of Kris alone with their thoughts taking place between Chapters 1 and 2. Mobile users... well, sorry. Just uh, keep scrolling I guess.

    The room was dark when they returned, everything inside left in complete pitch in the dead of night. The young human gripped and released the fingers of one hand, testing how much control they had over their own appendages. Seemingly satisfied, they took in a deep breath, wiping the pie crumbs from their mouth with one long sleeve. With somewhat tired, heavy steps, they crossed their darkness covered room with ease, clicking on the map that sat alone on their bedside table. And with some low light to better see, they turned, their cold gaze beneath their messy hair locked firmly on the little pulsing, glowing heart still locked in the birdcage they kept by their bed.

    Without a word, they approached, their stride slow as they covered the short distance. Not calm, though. As they walked, steely eyes locked onto their target, they continued to clench their hands into fists over and over. Tight fists, as though trying to relieve tension.

    Finally, they closed the gap, looming over the heart at their feet. The thing in the cage moved, floating to and fro, helplessly looking for some method of escape, a faint yet rapid pulsing of light red light coming from within it. 

    The human crouched down, throwing open the cage door with one hand, their other quickly shooting inside and gripping around the frightened little heart. The hold they had on the strange little thing was tight, fingers sinking into the surprisingly tough little bundle of light and warmth. Their prey in hand, they took a seat on the end of their bed, and lifted the heart to their line of sight. Their grip tightened further, the pulsing increased, the warmth turned hotter, and a concerning sound like electricity itself cracking began to fill their ears.

    And then, they stopped. Their grip loosened, but they still kept a hold of the beating handful of warmth. Another sigh escaped them. And, after a moment more to think, their lips parted. And they spoke.

    “Why��” Their voice was quiet, with a lightness to it that made for a sharp contrast to their intimidating aura. What sounded like a slight rasp from underused underlined the sound as well. “... Why… are you.” They finished the still incomplete question.

    A moment of silence was the answer the human received. “... Are you trying to take over me completely? Usurp my whole life?!” They demanded, their grip tightening again as they held the thing up closer to their face. The only indication that the little thing could even understand was the pulsing and beating speeding up once more. As though it were panicked. Yet still, they received no words. They pulled back again. “Well, you’ve got a strange way of going about it… Catti always said that demons are usually out to ruin your life, or everyone else’s.” They paused, digging into their pocket and retrieving a pencil they’d nearly forgotten about. It wasn’t the one they’d taken to school with them that day, this one was a gaudy bright orange with little black bats painted onto it. They twirled the pencil between their fingers of their free hand for a moment, looking… contemplative. “... So why did you go so far out of your way to give me friends…?”

    Another sigh escaped them, their eyes finally trailing away from the heart in their hand as they looked at the wall instead, their gaze softening somewhat. “I thought… I thought Susie was going to kill me, actually. But she’s… really cool. A lot of fun to talk to, too. When I got to anyway.” They glanced into the corner, scoffing, that cold glare returning to their eyes. “I can’t believe what MK said about her…”

    Another moment passed, one filled with more silence than the last, the human still simply holding this little bundle of pulsing magic in their hand. It’s beating and blinking had slowed, seemingly calming down itself. They glanced back at it, head tilting. “... I think I know what you are. You’re a soul, aren’t you? … I’m not really sure how I know what you are, but. I do.” The beating increased again, yet somehow they could tell, it was less to do with panic or fear. “And I… don’t think you’re trying to take over.” Their gaze grew cold again, fingers gripping. “I hope it’s clear if you ever try to, I can stop you.” The pulsing increased in speed.

    They released their grip again. “I don’t know why you’re doing this to me… or. For me.” Their gaze wandered, scanning over the dimly lit and neatly kept half of the room dedicated to their older brother, including the shelves of trophies that lined part of the wall. “I’ve… never had much I’ve been good at. Something only I can do. And after-...” They stopped themselves, a small something choking up their throat. They took a shaky breath. “... I haven’t had friends to spend time with in a long time, especially now that Asriel’s gone at college.”

    The human looked back to the heart, their eyes less cold, but still difficult to read. “The way you act though, when I’m around Susie, or while we were in that dark world, it’s so brave. I can play pranks, and tell jokes, but being brave… that’s not something I’ve ever thought of myself as.” They looked at the arm on their free hand, elbow bent and fist clenched as they recalled the day’s events. “But without even thinking about it… you didn’t tell me or, or make me, I just jumped in front of Susie. It was so easy, so natural, and… and I’m not sure if I’d have been able to do that on my own.” Their free hand fell, and they gripped the blanket beneath them, hair covering their eyes as their gaze fell completely. “You even had the guts to talk to Noelle, like it was nothing…”

    And again, the room was filled with a deafening silence. Nothing but the faint, almost imperceptible sound of the soul beating calmly. The human stood up wordlessly, took their new pencil, and started across the room again. With more care than most would show to a tacky novelty pencil, they opened the drawer in their bedside table, and placed it inside for safe keeping. The human stood tall, looking the soul over.

    “I’m not giving up my life to you.” They stated bluntly. “... but there might be a little room for you in it with me.” They said, finishing their thought. “I want to keep being friends with Susie, and Ralsie, and Lancer, and… and Noelle. But I don’t know how to do all the things you did on my own. Not yet. You can stay, but my life is mine, and if I want to live it, you’re out again, alright?” They received no words, as they expected. Just a still calm, if slightly faster beating.

    A calm sigh escaped them as they turned to get back into bed. “Let’s make this more official… You already know by now, but. My name’s Kris. And I think…” They squinted their eyes for a moment, scrutinizing the soul, and nodded to themselves. “Yeah… I think I know your name at least, too.” 

    Kris took in a slow, calm breath. Then exhaled. They breathed in. And out. And in. Out.

    Their next breath in was sharp as they plunged their hand into their own chest, taking the soul with it. They lurched forward, gritting their teeth, eyes clenched shut as their hair hung in their face. They could feel it, this intense and unknowable warmth radiating through their body, across their limbs, into their head, and even through their own soul. It felt strange and terrible, feeling something so powerful and so closely latched onto you, yet being unable to read or know anything about it. But… there was something else about it now. Like a gesture of reassurance they couldn’t feel. A hand that wasn’t their on their back, a voice with no words telling them it was alright. Truly, they didn’t know if they could trust this soul completely. But they wanted to.

    After growing accustomed to the feeling again a few minutes later, they pulled their hand back, their chest fine and still solid. A breath escaped them. Their words sounded off, like another voice was speaking with them, despite only their own coming through. “We’re gonna see Ralsie again tomorrow, us and Susie… let’s make tomorrow a good day too.” Their arm lifted beside them despite not turning to look what they were doing, grabbing the edge of the blanket and pulling it back over themselves as their body moved to lay on its side. “... Maybe even make more new friends…” Their hand reached past them, and clicked off the lamp at their side. 

    Their eyes shut. 

    And they wondered if, maybe, they’d made one more friend than they thought.

[twiceinadream]

“Lose control.”

Requested: Yup

Request: could you please do a part two for the namo x sub!s/o please

a/u: Hey, guys! I know said I would be posting more often but the second I said that I had to write three essays in one week so I’ve been creatively spent to the point where I didn’t even want to look at words. So, please thank my 5 am urge to write smut. Love you guys!

Part: 1.) “No touching.”

Background: Picks off right where, “No touching.” ended.

Category: NSFW and Fluff

Word Count: 2.2k

Momo’s breathing became ragged as she pulsed around the viabrator inside her, her eyes filled with tears as she struggled against the binds Nayeon had used to tie her hands behind her back. A sadistic smile on the elder girl’s face as she soaked in Momo’s tear filled eyes and high pitched whines before finally turning off the toy inside the Japanese girl, ending her endless cycle of pain and pleasure.

A relieved sigh left Momo’s lips as she slumped back into the bed, shifting slightly as she allowed Nayeon to untie her hands, “Now, what did we learn, Momoring?” Nayeon’s tone was expectant as she looked at the completely fucked out girl.

Strings of pathetic mewls erupted from Momo before she could finally think somewhat clearly, “D...don’t dis..disobey, Mm...mommy.”

Nayeon nodded her head as she cooed at Momo, “Good. Now that you’ve learned your lesson,” The Korean girl turned back to you, running a finger up your thigh as the coil in your stomach tightened, “I think it’s time for your reward now, Y/N-ah.” You swallowed a lump that had formed in your throat as you eyed your Mistress carefully. Your eyes grew hungry as you watched Nayeon strip before you, her shirt was thrown over her head as she hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her panties. Ridding herself of the material in one fluid motion as she dropped it beside the bed, a small wet patch on the front of the fabric was noticeable as you smiled internally.

‘She’s enjoying this just as much as we are.’ But your small revelation didn’t last long as a completely bare Nayeon kneeled before you. Even in her most vulnerable state the look in her eyes still instilled fear into you, as well as wetness in your panties. Steeling your fear as you looked back at her, fearless.

“I want you to ruin me Mommy.” As the words left your mouth Nayeon’s lips turned upwards into a smile, her eyes growing dark as she crawled towards you on the bed. All thoughts of Momo’s disobedience momentarily forgotten as the Japanese girl still laid breathless at the end of the bed, watching with rapt attention as you subconsciously began spreading your legs the closer Nayeon got to you.

But before she could pounce on you like a predator to prey, she paused, “Are you sure you want this?” You nodded rapidly, if the heat building in your stomach didn’t already mean something, you didn’t know what would.

“Of course I am Mommy.” At the confirmation Nayeon gave you a nod before placing a soft kiss to your lips.

“Just remember you can always tell me to stop whenever you need. Okay?” You nodded again, and the hungry look came back into her eyes, “Okay.”

You had barely blinked when you suddenly felt the weight of her body on top of yours, her lips meeting yours in a bruising kiss as she nipped at your lower lip, asking for entrance. You opened for her almost instantly as you felt her tongue begin exploring your mouth, whimpers left your mouth as the intensity of the kiss made you rub your thighs together. Reminding you of just how turned on you were.

Nayeon’s hands began wandering along your body, fingertips dragging along your sides as she slowly pulled your shirt up, her thumbs rubbing at every new inch of exposed skin. Your shirt rode up just below your chest before she pulled away from the kiss, your breathing was ragged as she pulled your shirt over your head and threw it somewhere on the bedroom floor, a predatory smirk growing on Nayeon’s lips as she noticed that you weren’t wearing a bra. The heat of her gaze made you squirm under her as she leaned back down, her lips descending on your neck as she trailed kisses up and down the column of your neck before nipping at your pulse point. A needy groan left your throat as the action made you buck your hips towards your Mistress.

A light chuckle emitted from the girl above you as she began moving lower on your body, her lips moved to the top of your chest where her nipping and sucks turned into red and purple bruises that you were probably gonna regret in the morning as you got dressed for work, but that wasn’t here or now so you just decided to enjoy the moment. Feeling Nayeon’s lips trail further down as she kissed her way down to one of your breasts, a devilish smirk appearing on her face as she blew a small stream of air on your already stiff nipple making you groan in frustration before she ran the flat of her tongue over it and brought it into her mouth.

The contrast from cold to warm made you moan as the sudden stimulation caused your hands to shoot up to Nayeon’s head, your fingers tangled in her short locks as you kept her against your chest. Your legs rubbed together as Nayeon kept them closed as she straddled you, her free hand going up to your unoccupied breast as she began palming the soft flesh she found there before moving to pinch and roll your nipple between her fingers. Causing another wanton moan to fall from your lips as the stimulation-or lack thereof-started to burn hotter in your belly as you panted.

“M..mommy, please.” Your voice momentarily fell on deaf ears as Nayeon continued to suck and pinch at your chest before pulling away. Her eyes met yours as you silently begged for the release you have been after since the start of Momo’s punishment. A beat of silence passed between the two of you before she nodded, leaning back down to your sternum to please a trail of kisses down to your stomach. The action caused Nayeon’s body to curl up as her ass was pushed further back to the point she was basically presenting her wet pussy to Momo who could only look at it, entranced by the pink lips that clenched around nothing like it was teasing her as she could feel the wetness return between her legs as well.

Her trance was broken by your loud moan of frustration as a chuckle from Nayeon followed it as she placed a kiss to your lips to silence you, “Since you’ve so good for me Y/N, it’s time for your reward.” The Korean girl smiled to herself at the way your eyes lit up at her words, as she moved down slightly as she grasped the waistband of your panties and shorts, pulling them both down at once. A smirk on her lips as she discarded the remaining clothing, her eyes roaming over your soaked core. Your pussy was flushed pink as your lips already parted for her, stray drops of wetness leaked from your entrance as her eyes flicked to your exposed clitoris. The hood was pulled back slightly as it strained towards her almost like it calling out to her, and she answered.

Nayeon assumed her previous pose as she leaned down to place kisses along your inner thighs as her pussy was left exposed and presented to Momo as the Japanese girl balled her hands into fists, trying her hardest to remain some form of self control as your moans grew in desperation. Your Mistress’ lips left hot, open mouthed kisses along your sensitive thighs as she continued to avoid the place you needed her most. You felt as though you would go insane with how tight the coil in your stomach grew, to the point you began squirming to relieve some of the pressure that was becoming almost too unbearable to be pleasurable. But, Nayeon knew you like the back of her hand and pulled away from you, knowing that any further teasing would either be considered torture or result in a safe word and she really didn’t want to be the one to cause you pain and stop all your guy’s fun.

As your Mistress pulled away you couldn’t help but whine slightly as all the pleasure she had been giving you stopped. But it didn’t last long as she winked at you, “I have an idea.” Your interest piqued as you raised an eyebrow, “Sixty-nine.” Your eyes widened for a second before you nodded, waiting for Nayeon to get off of you as you rotated on the bed so that your head was near Momo as she watched. A smirk decorating your face as Nayeon settled above you again, her pussy inches from your lips as you waited for her signal.

Then you felt her tongue run through your wet folds making you moan out loud as you used your hands to bring Nayeon’s hips down to you. You licked up as you gathered your girlfriend’s wetness on your tongue, tasting the sweet and tang of her juices as you continued licking her slit. You felt Nayeon’s moan vibrate through your core as you bucked up into her mouth, the vibration sending a shock through your system that in turn made you moan into her as well. The display in front of her made Momo whine pitifully as she reduced herself to a whore in heat, a hand found its way between her thighs as she rubbed at her clit. Her breathing came out in pants as she fought off a moan, but the sound made the Korean girl’s ears perk as she turned away from your pussy to look behind her at Momo. The Japanese girl’s eyes were closed as her hand worked quickly between her legs, her breathing came out in clipped breaths as Nayeon rolled her eyes at how unsatisfiable she was.

The elder sighed to herself but was quickly replaced with a moan as you moved to suck on her clit, making her take a second to regain her thoughts, “Momo.” Her words were sharp as they seemed to burn the girl at the end of the bed, making her snap her head up to look at her Mistress. A look of fear in her eyes as she pulled her hand out from between her thighs, making the older girl just roll her eyes as she looked down to you, a smile growing on her face. “Momoring,” the name made the Japanese go pink as she looked to her Mommy, “be a good girl and,” Nayeon reached a hand back as she spread her ass to reveal the tight hole hiding there, “help Y/N and make Mommy feel good.”

Momo didn’t waste a second as she crawled forward, spreading Nayeon’s ass to reveal the tight sphincter that awaited her. The Korean girl’s head was already back in between your thighs as she redoubled her efforts, making you pull away from her as you moaned out loud, clenching around her fingers as they pistoned into your entrance.

Her rhythm faltered as Momo’s tongue began running along the tight ring of her ass, causing her to moan as she gripped the bed sheets into her fists. Nearly screaming as your fingers dipped back into her heat, before reattaching your lips to her swollen clit. “Oh my god!” Nayeon reared up so that she was almost kneeling, unable to comprehend the double penetration of your fingers and Momo’s tongue in her ass as she panted heavily, moaning in clipped bursts as she struggled to ground herself with all the pleasure coursing through her veins.

A smirk grew on your face as you pulled away from Nayeon’s clit, your fingers pumping in and out of her entrance as you delivered your final blow, “Lose control, Mommy.” At your words Nayeon felt as though she had been hit by a truck as her orgasm ripped through her violently, her body shook as her back arched back down. Her face was buried between your thighs once again as she sucked your clit between her lips, moaning into you all the while as you felt your release hit you out of the blue.

“Oh god!” Your hips bucked violently upwards as you felt a stream of wetness leave your core, surprising the three of you as you continued to shake beneath them. Your orgasm ebbing away slowly as black filled your vision.

-

When you came to, you blinked sleepily as you noticed that both Nayeon and Momo were at your sides. A smile on both their faces as they noticed you were up.

“Hi, baby.” Nayeon said quietly as she placed a soft peck to your lips, Momo used her hand to turn your face towards her before also placing a kiss to your lips.

“Wh...what happened.” Your voice croaked from not being used as they both smiled.

Momo snickered as she answered, “You squirted so hard you blacked out.” Your mouth fell open as a blush began creeping onto your face making your girlfriends giggle.

“It was cute.” You shook your head as your eyes rolled at Nayeon’s bunny smile, a content look on your face as you cuddled between the two of them.

“I love you both.” You said through a yawn as they both wrapped an arm around your waist, both their heads resting on your shoulders.

“We love you too, Y/N-ah.”

[marvelousstevetony]

If you’re still taking prompts can you do “mission in the rain” for stony with sick steve?

I’m going to apologize in advance, anon, for being so late to answer this, and also for how... not great this is. Tbh, this is a mess, but I’ll post it anyway🥲

Thank you for the prompt, though! Hopefully I’ll get back into the flow of writing soon!

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

“See this,” Tony starts, “this is why I don’t trust Fury.” He’s stomping the ground like a petulant child, arms folded over his chest even though he’s wearing the armour, illustrating just how sulky he is. In addition, the glare he’s sporting almost makes Clint’s arrows seem harmless, and Steve can hear the sharpness in his voice, even over the loud drumming of the rain.

“Tony—“

“I mean,” Steve is interrupted before he has to say anything else, “this was supposed to be easy. Get in quickly, then get the hell out even faster.”

Steve sighs. It’s not like he’s disagreeing with Tony, no, quite the opposite actually. But moping never does any good, so Steve takes a deep breath and continues walking.

Tony is right, though, he thinks. Although Fury hadn’t presented them with a lot of details about the Hydra facility, he had told them that it had recently been abandoned and that all they’d have to do was look it over and hopefully gather information about their new base.

Turns out it wasn’t abandoned, and as soon Tony and Steve had entered the building, they’d been ambushed. Tony had already started cursing Fury when he took out the first Hydra agent, and though none of the agents were particular great fighters (compared to Iron Man and Captain America), there’d been a lot of them.

They’d taken all of them out, but definitely not as easily as if there’d been more than the two of them. ‘That won’t be necessary,’ Fury had said. He might’ve changed his mind if he had known Tony would leave the facility with a malfunctioning armour and no way for them to get away. The car they’d driven there in had been blown up pretty quickly, just like the rest of all the vehicles.

As soon as they’d finished the group of assassins off they’d contacted Fury and the team, but they were a few hours out. The Hydra agents had called for reinforcement when they realized they were losing, but the two Avengers had escaped before a new lineup showed up. There’s no chance of going back, though, and with no other choice, they’d set off on foot.

And that’s how the two of them ended up in the middle of nowhere during one of the worst rainstorms Steve can recall since waking up in the 21st century.

Tony huffs exasperatedly, and steps in a puddle with great force so it splashes.

“They’ll b-be here s-soon,” Steve says, teeth clattering. He’s trying to stay optimistic, but it’s hard, especially with the severe pounding in his head and the full-body chills.

“Yeah, right,” Tony grumbles. “They probably stopped for donuts on their way… Are you cold?” He asks when Steve shivers violently next to him.

“N-no,” Steve replies, but even to him, it sounds unbelievable.

Tony snorts, but he’s tired and his body is achy all over. He doesn’t have the energy to call Steve out on his shit this time, so they continue walking in silence, the only sounds coming from the heavy rain, Steve’s teeth rattling and Tony’s puffs of air from keeping up with Steve’s pace.

At some point, they reach a road on the edge of a forest where Tony’s almost certain that Hydra wouldn’t find them. He just wants to sit down, if only for a few minutes. The suit’s not too heavy, but it’s broken and there’s nothing to lighten the weight, so after walking for miles, Tony could use a break.

From the looks of it, Steve could too. His posture is sloppy, shoulders hunched forward, head ducking low as if to avoid the rain hitting him in the face.

Coming to think of it, Tony’s happy for the suit, despite the slightly increased weight. Although he isn’t wearing the helmet, it keeps his body dry, and that… that can’t be said about Steve’s uniform. The red, white, and blue suit is drenched all the way through. The colors are darker than normal, and it clung even tighter to Steve than it usually does. Tony wonders why it isn’t waterproof, or at least somewhat water-resistant. On the other hand, maybe it is and is simply not able to compete with the tempestuous downpour.

“Don’t you think it’s time for break?” Tony asks, and Steve casts him a questioning glance. “Hydra wouldn’t find us in there,” Tony says and nods at the forest.

Steve looks like he might just argue and say that they should just continue walking. But then he eyes the woodland and sighs. “You’re r-right,” he stammers. “I g-guess there’s n-no real reason to k-keep walking. They’ll f-find us s-soon.”

They settle beneath a tree with large leaves, somewhat shielding them from the rain. Not that it really matters, Steve’s soaked anyway.

They both let out a relieved noise when they slump back against the trunk of the tree, and Steve takes off his cowl, revealing a blond mop of hair that’s just as wet as the rest of him.

They catch their breath for a few minutes, and Tony’s almost starting to relax a bit. Next to him though, Steve’s entire body shudders. He curls into a ball, hugging his knees close to his chest, jaw visibly shaking.

“You can’t seriously tell me you’re not freezing, Steve,” Tony says, but it soft and in no way mocking.

“I’m okay,” Steve forces through clenched teeth. “They’ll b-be here snf! s-s-soon.”

Sighing, Tony rests his head back against the tree, letting his eyes slip shut. He could probably fall asleep, had it not been for the raindrops that hits him right on his closed eyelid every once in a while, making him flinch.

Steve, on the other hand, definitely isn’t on the verge of dropping off. When Tony cracks an eye open to look at him, he’s still trembling violently, but now he’s also scrubbing at his nose and eyes, and at one point he’s overtaken by a harsh coughing fit that leaves him gasping for air.

Tony frowns at him with questioning eyes. Steve either doesn’t understand that Tony was trying to wordlessly ask him if he was okay, or else he just doesn’t want to answer, because as soon as he catching a glimpse of Tony’s face, he looks away and leans forward to rest his forehead on his knees.

Tony, who lost all sense of time long ago, doesn’t know how long they sit like that before he hears the reassuring sound of the Quinjet. When they get on board, Fury and Hill are there, alongside Natasha, who greets them with a sympathetic smile that somehow still manages to be very smirk-like.

“Damn, Steve, you look like a drowned rat,” she states, and it’s not like either of them can argue with that; he’s dripping, leaving puddles after him everywhere he goes, and his hair is clinging to his face like a leech. “There’s spare clothes in the back,” she says and throws a thumb over her shoulder. Steve mumbles a quiet thanks as he leaves, his boots making squeaky noises whenever he takes a step.

By now, Tony’s stepped out of the suit, which, despite its broken parts, kept him surprisingly dry. He winces, however, at how much time he’d spent on upgrading it, only for it to be destroyed a couple of days later. Oh well, he thinks then. It’s not like he doesn’t like having an excuse to work in the lab for a few extra hours.

Although he’s not wet, and not particularly cold wither, Nat offers him a blanket, which he wraps around his shoulders. “He’s really quiet today,” she mumbles as she casts a glance over her shoulder.

Tony hums in agreement. “He’s tired. So am I.”

“That’s reasonable, I guess.” Nat offers a small smile, but her face falls, eyebrows twisting into a frown, as soon they hear the sound of Steve’s gravelly, throat-scraping coughs from the back of the Quinjet. “He seems a little more than just tired, though.”

“Probably,” Tony concurs when Steve comes into sight, now clad in a dry pair of sweats and a Stark Industries hoodie. His hair is still drenched, though, and his for all that Steve’s face is concernedly pale, his cheeks are still flushed from the cold. He’s dragging his feet towards them, slowly, with his shoulders hunched, and Tony think that he must be every bit as exhausted as he looks. “You okay?”

Steve draws in a long breath. Tony waits to hear him say that he’s fine, just like he always does, but when all Steve does is sigh heavily, Tony is immediately alarmed.

Even though it’s nearly imperceptible, Tony does notice, of course he does, that Steve is swaying slightly as he takes the final steps towards them. Ocean blue eyes are unfocused when Tony searches for them with his own, looking glazed over and weary.

Natasha moves nervously when Steve still hasn’t answered and shoots Tony a look. “Steve?” she prompts, and Steve snaps his head to the side to looks at her, but he instantly squeezes his eyes shut as his breath catches.

“Okay,” Tony says, getting to his feet. “You should sit down.” Placing his hands on Steve’s elbows, he guides the blonde to a seat and sits down in the one next to him. Natasha is quickly at his other side and rests a delicate hand of his shoulder.

“So… definitely not okay,” she concludes.

“Sorry,” Steve murmurs, jaw tight. “I-I don’t… I just got dizzy for a minute there. I’m sorry, I think I’m okay now.” Despite saying that he’s okay, his voice is distant, and he still hasn’t opened his eyes.

Tony can feel the tension in his body as he put a hand on Steve’s back, and just moments later, he senses the way Steve is trembling. “Shit, Steve, you’re shaking!” Tony gasps, and if to prove him right, Steve gives a full-body shudder.

Natasha cups the super-soldier’s face and grimaces as she touches the scalding cheeks. “He’s burning up,” she announces, directing the words at Tony, who is now also cradling Steve’s face.

The difference in temperature must feel heavenly to Steve, because he melts into the touch and lets out a sound that’s somewhere between a sigh and a moan.

“Damn,” Tony mutters under his breath. “Guy’s hotter than the sun, in more than one way.” Natasha rolls her eyes, and Tony smirks slightly at her dismay. “Jarvis, give me a rundown of Cap here, please.”

“Certainly, sir,” comes the British accent. “Captain Rogers is currently running a temperature of 103.7 and climbing. Additionally, I detect an inflammation of the respiratory passages. Although I am not programmed to be medically enlightened, I believe Captain Rogers is showing symptoms of influenza.”

“We need to get his fever down,” Natasha says and Tony gives a stiff nod. “I doubt we have anything on the jet that’ll help, but I’ll get him some water.”

Tony nods again, then sighs when he turns back to Steve who is still pressing in face into Tony’s palm, eyes closed and mouth hanging slightly open. He’s also still shaking like a leaf, huddled in on himself with his knees hugged tightly to his chest.

“Steve?” Tony says softly, brushing his thumb over a cut on Steve’s cheek. He gets no response. “Steve, you with me?” He tries again.

Steve opens his eyes slowly and looks at Tony. His are glassy, face is pinched in discomfort, and he looks like he needs about forty-eight hours of sleeps, but at least he isn’t unconscious, Tony thinks.

“Hey, sunshine” the brunette whispers and forces a smile, smoothing a hand over Steve’s hair.

Steve must detect the worry, because he suddenly looks so sad and, in a way, guilty. “I’m sorry,” he croaks. “I’m… I—"

“Shhh… Don’t be sorry, honey. We’re home soon, okay? Then we’ll get you feeling better.”

Steve is looking directly at him with a confused expression, like he didn’t hear a word Tony just said, when Natasha reappears behind Tony with a bottle in her hand.

“How is he?” She asks, sitting down and unscrewing the cap as she holds out the bottle for Steve to take. He eyes it for a couple of seconds, then accepts it with sluggish, shaky movements and brings it to his dry, cracked lips.

“He’s completely out of it,” Tony sighs, and when Steve doesn’t object, Tony figures it’s as much of a confirmation as he’s gonna get.

Natasha, who is known to be the most stoic Avenger, is now decidedly worried. Her mouth is a straight line, and the crease between her brows is deeper than Tony has ever seen it. “Steve,” she says softly. When he lifts his head slightly, she gives him a small smile and brushes a stray strand of hair away from his forehead. “Hey there, soldier.”

Steve’s lips curl just enough to make the weak smile visible. “Hey… I’m—“ Suddenly, Steve is taken over by a harsh, throat-scraping coughing fit that leaves him gasping for air and clutching his chest. “Sorry.”

Tony rubs a comforting hand up and down Steve’s spine as he regains composure. Natasha just shakes her head at him and says, “It’s okay… How long have you been feeling like this?”

“I… I’m not sure. Not long,” he adds when both Natasha and Tony sigh. “I snf! I was fine during the m-mission, but then it just hit me all at once.”

“Definitely the flu, then,” Natasha confirms. “I guess you’re on super-sick-super-soldier duty tonight, Stark.”

“Yeah, I think this one is in desperate need of some TLC,” Tony says, shuffling closer to Steve to let him rest his head against his shoulder. Steve settles in close, his warm breath tickling on Tony’s neck as he lets out a tired yet please sigh. His eyes have slipped shut again, and his body is slowly going slack against Tony’s, melting into the caring hold. “I don’t mind, though,” he mumbles into Steve’s damp hair and places a gentle kiss in there, too.

Natasha smiles fondly at them; cuddled up in the small seats, Steve’s larger body curled into a ball with all his weight against Tony. “I’ll handle debrief,” she says, and Tony’s expression softens immediately with gratitude. “You focus on getting that one,” she looks at Steve, “back to full health.”

“I’ll get him feeling better,” Tony assures her, looks down at Steve whose breath has evened out, and smiles warmly as he kisses Steve’s temple.

[bellatrixobsessed1]

From Chin To Yon Rah (Part 28)

Apologies if this chapter is a little lackluster I was massively multi-tasking lol.

She was a fool to forget to earn herself some Fire Nation coin before meeting Fire Nation shores. And for it she knows that she will grapple with hunger, dehydration, and sleeplessness again. It is far too late to make such preparations now as the boat pulls into port, perhaps she could help unload the luggage and earn herself enough for a meal. She is thankful that she has kept much of her supplies from her days in the grassland though she can’t imagine that she will have much use for the blankets.

The moment that Azula steps out of the vessel and into the afternoon she wonders if the sun has always been this brutal, she feels as though she has made her homecoming on the very hottest day. On the most instinctual level, she knows that this is a rather cool day for what the Fire Nation usually has to offer. Even still, the sun’s rays swelter upon skin made delicate by so much time spent under more merciful Earth Kingdom rays. The words weak and soft come to mind as she brushes her fingers over her skin. Skin that had grown too sensitive. She already feels it redding and she has only been out in the rays for a few minutes.

She wipes a few beads of sweat away and fans at her face. She isn’t sure if it is more foolish to go through with her plans to request a job that requires extensive physical labor under the sun or to continue on and into the inferno with no coin to pay for drink. Decidedly she can try to save up enough gold and copper pieces to get herself a ride back to Caldera City.

Ignoring the sense lolling in her belly she finds the dock hands and offers her skills.

Where the Earth Kingdom has weakened her heat tolerance, it has brought a muscle definition that is, perhaps, not befitting of a princess. Not that she has been able to call herself that in a very long time, she isn’t sure that she wants to. And her stomach churns in double. She is once again at a loss and in a place of directionlessness. She isn’t sure that the Fire Nation has room to welcome her back.

She helps the first deckhand--he had mentioned that his name was Yon Rah--theater the ship to the dock.

“But I’m not the Yon Rah that this village was named for!” He declares.

Azula tries to find her sense of humor, tries to at least manage a forced laugh. But the simmering heatwaves steal the ability from her. Instead she mumbles an apology for rudeness.

The man chuckles, “it was a bad joke anyways!” He disappears into the cargo hold. “Can you help me with this?”

She sure hopes so. Despite her doubts she nods and picks up one end of the crate. Whatever is in it weighs an obscene amount. Her back and arm muscles strain and the sweat trickles down her forehead with more persistence.

“You doing alright, lady?”  Yon Rah asks.

“I just…” She lightly fans her head. Need a break…”I need a drink.”

“Well why didn’t you just say so!?” She wonders how he can be so joyful under such blistering sunbeams. He tosses her a waterskin. Her throat is too parched for her to put much thought into whose lips have been on this waterskin before her own. She drinks it greedily down, a bead of water trickles from the corner of her mouth.

“I’m ready to resume.”

“We don’t have too much more to do. Just a few more crates of trade goods.”

She enters the cargo hold the shade is sublimely welcoming for the minute that she dwells inside of it. She finds herself the smallest crate and lifts it into her arms. If nothing else, she can at least appreciate the wonders her travels have done for her form, it will be nice to test her firebending now.

She carries the crate back into the sunlight. It is brimming with jewelry, kimono silks, and fine shoes. She looks at her own shoes, they have grown somewhat worn, she knows that they won’t last the miles between Yon Rah and Caldera City. And for a moment she thinks of swiping a pair of shoes.

Just as her fingers close around a pair, Yon Rah appears. She clears her throat. “How much do you think these would sell for?” She improvises before he can leap to his own conclusions. “The embroidery is stunning.”

He checks the label on the crate. “I’d wager that they aren’t for sale. They’re engagement presents for the fiance of Admiral Chan’s son.

Azula nods and her urge to steal them grows. She passes the crate off to Yon Rah before the impulse can grow unbearable and fetches herself a different one. Five crates in and her head is spinning, stomach lurching. The sun paints her face red. Her sense of insecurity heightens at the surmounting nausea that grows with each crate. The sun shouldn’t be this dizzying. Her ancestors would be ashamed. She is ashamed. She is taken by the thought that she doesn’t deserve the fire rippling through her chi points.

“...waterskin?” She hadn’t caught the first part. It doesn’t matter. Only the waterskin matters. She holds her hand out and wiggles her fingers.

He waits for her to drink before saying, “if you need a break…”

She shakes her head. She has done tasks much more strenuous and intensive than this. Has trained under blazes significantly hotter, “I’m fine.”

The man rubs his lips before pressing them into a thin line.”

“I need the gold pieces. I can even handle another boat.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea, lady. I would hate to see you fall over.”

Azula sighs, “do you think that I’ve never fallen before?” She doesn’t mean to sound quite so harsh. “I will lift those crates until my knees buckle and I will have my…”

For the first time that day his good humored nature falters. “Lady, you’re lucky I let you help me with this boat.

“You’re lucky that I volunteered, you would still be struggling along if…”

“And you’ll be lucky to get any compensation for it with that tongue of yours.”

It comes as another slap in the face, a second reminder alongside that heat, that she can hardly consider herself a Fire National anymore. She flinches, once for having put her pay on the line after having exerted herself so and twice over for her latest social blunder--for having forgotten how such backtalk and disrespect wouldn’t be tolerated as the Earth Kingdomers have tolerated it. She dreads to think of what her father would say to her if he could see her now, weak to the cold and rude in speech.

And maybe it was a mistake to leave the Earth Kingdom after all. Even at its cruelest, it has been so kind to her. She can’t name a stranger who had been unkind or intolerant to her. For the first time she finds herself wishing that she had been born to the Earth Kingdom. She considers that her life would have been kinder there, that her heart wouldn’t be so burdened if her eyes were green instead of gold.   Had she any vestige of superiority left it would have fallen away. Suddenly it is hard to put herself in her own shoes, to understand how she had once thought that this remorseless nation and its apathetic nature was anything worth infecting the rest of the world with.

She rubs her hands over her face, she shouldn’t hate her homeland. To hate her homeland and its values would be to hate a large portion of herself. And maybe she does. Maybe she does hate herself and everything she had been. Everything she had stood for. And this time she has no one to remind her that she shouldn’t. That she should appreciate her past and what it has taught her, what it has led her to become.

Right now she only has regret. Regret for her past and regret for her decision to bring herself back to it.

Yon Rah says something else, she doesn’t catch it. She doesn’t look up from her palms. She should say something.

“...alright?” she catches, his tone is somewhat softer.

Her past in the Earth Kingdom has become just as heavy as her Fire Nation past, but in the Earth Kingdom, at least has kinder memories to go with it. She thinks that, had she stayed, even in Chin, she would have been able to find kind company again.

Azula stops herself from laughing bitterly aloud; she is certain that she already had. She had made several connections, met several people she could picture herself staying with. She resents how hard pressed she is to recognize good things when she has them. And resents, even further, how routinely she takes things for granted.

This time hasn’t the funds to change her mind and sail back to the Earth Kingdom and chase down the company that she had forfeited in her desperate flight from her woes. Her vision is growing fuzzy and she isn’t sure if it is with stress or heat.

Azula feels a hand on her shoulder. She mumbles a quick apology and stands.

“You should sit down.” The man frowns.

But she doesn’t. She fetches her pack, slings it over her shoulder, and shuffles away from the ships bobbing in the ocean waters. The knock of them against the docks follows her away. So to does the man’s voice. “I wasn’t serious about withholding your pay, lady.”

Had she any sense she would have turned back and taken it. Perhaps the sun has sucked her sanity drier than her parched lips. It is just one more mistake in a long line of them. This journey has been nothing but mishap and misstep after mishap and misstep. She can’t help but wonder if Zuko’s journey had been this brutal or if the universe is keen on antagonizing her specifically. Her time in Wujing had only been permitted so as to make everything else after it that much more agonizing.

Azula, not for the first time, thinks that it is time to stop. To drop to her knees, hold up a white flag, and let her body wither where it stands. There is nothing waiting for her here. No one to welcome her home with open and relieved arms. She gets the sense that her sudden reappearance will be nothing but an inconvenience, a collective groan of frustration made by everyone she’d ever wronged.

The Fire Nation sun is brutal, persistent, unrelenting and the people who walk under it are twice as so. She walks under the Fire Nation sun.

It is such a late lesson and she wishes she had learned it much earlier; that day she learns not to take things for granted.

.oOo.

Azula isn’t sure how she feels anymore. It is something between numbness and calmness. Happiness and sadness. Caihong looks so happy amid the strawberries and twice as delighted to catch the scent of turnips again. And it is only because she doesn’t know that she won’t be returning to the place that birthed her comfort in the scent...

“Go on, pick one of the strawberries.” Sokka nudges her.

“They aren’t ready for harvest yet.” She replies. “We just planted them.” She feels his arms slide around her torso, his lips on her neck. And she wonders how he can be so loving toward such a questionable person.

“Ya know what I think would help you?”

She peers up at him.

“Making Caihong smile.”

“I can’t even make myself smile.”

“That’s my job.” He declares.

“You’re doing a horrible job, Sokka.”

“Give me time!” He throws his hands up, his voice shrill. But she doesn’t know how much patience she has left. She has been sad for so long… She rubs at her face; that isn’t true, he has made her smile several times since she has come home. She has been happy, truly so.

“Why does it always have to end?”

Sokka quirks a brow.

“Every time I’m stable, happy...” She knows that she sounds ridiculous, naive. Of course she can’t be happy all the time. She just isn’t sure that her sorrow is suppose to be this deep every time that she isn’t.

“That’s just how it works.” Sokka confirms. “Even TyLee isn’t beaming with joy all the time.”

She opens her mouth to make another self-deprecating remark but she doesn’t think that Sokka wants to hear it. She doesn’t think that she wants to either. She knows that she doesn’t. She lets herself fall quiet instead.

“Speaking of TyLee…” He gestures to she, Mai, and Zuko.

“Hi, Azula!” She grins.

Azula gives a small wave.

“The turnips smell great!”

She quirks a brow. “I always thought that the scent was the worst part of living in Wujing.”

“Maybe that’s because you’ve been around it for too long.” Mai shrugs. “Beats the smell of freshly baked bread.”

“Who hates the smell of bread!?” Sokka throws his hands up again, this time, nearly hitting her in the face. Azula gently guides his hands back to her abdomen where they are significantly less hazardous.

“Apparently my girlfriend.” Zuko rolls his eyes. “She seems to hate everything good and wholesome.”

“No wonder she likes you.” Azula grumbles.

“And here I made you cherry blossom tea.” He sets a tray of tea before her. “The servants are bringing out the food and picnic blanket…”

“A picnic!” Caihong springs up from her spot among the turnips. Her cheeks are smudged with dirt. She attempts to rub it away with even dirtier hands.

“We’ll need to wash those grubby hands before you eat.” Azula quirks a brow.

Caihong points at the turtleduck pond.

Azula sighs, “with soap and water.”

Caihong pays her suggestion no mind and trots over to the turtle duck pond. “Wash, wash, splash, splash, cleaner than Chin’s mustache!” She sings. Azula can’t imagine that Chin’s mustache had been anything remotely close to clean. She skips up to Azula and takes hold of her sleeve, stroking at it. “It’s so soft.” She coos. “And pretty and…”

“And don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing, Caihong.”

The girl blinks.

“You could have dried those dirty little hands on the picnic blanket.”

She giggles. “Your sleeve is better!”

Azula sighs as the girl scrambles into her lap. She smells as heavily of turnip as Azula remembers. “Bao wants to join the picnic too!” She darts off a second time to fetch Bao from where she had nearly forgotten him amid the turnips. He is significantly dirtier now.

“I’m going to have to have the servants give Bao a bath.”

Caihong narrows her eyes, “Bao ain’t like those, Ri...A-zu-la.”

She rolls her eyes. At least the girl is trying now. She wraps her arms around the child, feeling a sort of warmth that she hasn’t felt in ages. A warmth that manages to cut through her sense of dismay. She gives Caihong a little squeeze. Across the picnic blanket, Zuko flashes her a smile and finally it settles in, in full that she still has a family. She still has her family.

She feels Sokka’s chin on her shoulder as she reaches for her teacup. She feels a breeze on her cheeks, the sun gently kissing her skin. She cups her hand over Sokka’s. She leans into him and, with his free hand, he rubs the back of her hand with his thumb.

She doesn’t realize that she is crying until that same thumb wipes a tear away. She can’t even say why she is crying again. But Caihong shifts around in her arms and presses Bao into her chest with instructions to hold him. And she laughs; the girl is trying so very hard to make it all better and in a way that only a little girl can.

TyLee wraps her arms around her and Zuko does too. “Come on, Mai.” He beckons. She rolls her eyes but inches her way into their ridiculous and clumsy hug. “Ugg, really, I think that I just spilled tea on my robe?” She grumbles.

Azula has to laugh. For the first time in so long things feel simple, as though she is still fourteen, unburdened by loss and full of dreams and aspirations.

She holds Caihong close and Sokka holds her closer. And she realizes why she is crying. It is relief. Relief and happiness. And she clings to it. Clings to it with a violence. She could lose it at any time. For the first time in a long time, she finally feels at home, truly at home.

[thefanficmonster]

Darkest Of Nights

Connor Walsh & Michaela Pratt (How to Get Away With Murder)

Warnings: Sexual Assault, Vomiting, Swearing, Spoilers for Season 1 of How To Get Away With Murder

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Platonic Relationship

Summary: On the night of Sam’s murder, it’s safe to say everyone is traumatized, looking for comfort and solace. However, one of them gets the complete opposite: Michaela is only offered more pain and trauma, bringing her to the brink of insanity.

Requested by 🐢 Anon, but also meant as a birthday present for an Anon who recently reached out to me. Happy birthday dear Anon! Hope you have the best one yet! Here’s the fic you requested - I hope it lives up to your expectations! It’s been such an honor to be the person to write you a birthday present and I can only hope I’ve done my job well! Love, Vy ❤

She’s still in utter shock and disbelief. She’s shaking like a leaf as she navigates the roads back to her apartment. It pains her that she’ll have to pass by the Keating house again tonight, knowing what happened there just hours ago. She squeezes the jacket tighter around herself, glad to not see any familiar - or rather any faces at all. The bonfire has gathered every college student, graduate and fan of the sport around itself, giving the streets an emptiness Michaela hasn’t seen before.

Michaela Pratt has always liked planning out her life, having her future laid out in front of her always at her disposal for changing and modifying. She’s always seen herself a successful, envied lawyer in the future, someone other lawyers fear and all wrong-doers want. Because who doesn’t want freedom? She’d pride herself on being the one to bring them that freedom. She’d pride herself on owning a title like Annalise’s - a bitch, a beast and a boss in the courtroom.

However, just like she had everything laid out in front of her eyes, she’s watching it all fall apart. Fall into that very bonfire her and her classmates went to take pictures at to own their alibis. To save themselves from possible suspicion. To paint the picture that they aren’t murderers.

That realization will never soften its blow to her chest and stomach. Every time she repeats the word ‘murderer’ in her mind, her heart skips a bit and her stomach turns, threatening to make her release everything in it onto the pavement she’s walking on. She feels disgusting and dirty, not only because of the ash and mud she has all over herself following the venture into the woods where they dismembered Sam’s body, but because she took part in it. She may have stood aside, crippled by shock, disbelief and disgust, but she’s now a part of it nonetheless.

With her heart and mind racing faster than she’s able to comprehend, she finds herself unable to turn that corner and get onto the street which the Keating house is on. She feels that if she sees that place she might just faint right there on the street and if that doesn’t raise a few questions, nothing will. Instinctively, she continues ahead, heading down the street that will inevitably lead her to where the mob of drunk or half-drunk people are surrounding a huge fire, celebrating something Michaela is less than disinterested in. She feels it’d make for an extra alibi in case the pictures they posted aren’t enough proof of their faux innocence. 

Michaela squints her eyes at the brightness of the fire nearby, sensing both a cough and a sickening feeling climbing up her throat. There are reporter trucks everywhere, ones she sees as the perfect hiding barriers to prevent her from being seen by anyone in case that sickening feeling morphs into an urge to throw up. She quickens her pace, eager to find herself in the safe space between two of the reporter trucks and attempt to calm her heart that’s threatening to beat out of her chest. She’s still visible to anyone walking along the street, but as it was established earlier, the street’s vacant and it seems it’ll remain that way for a little longer so she feels almost invisible and tiny in comparison to the two truck that serve the purpose of her protectors in this very moment.

Placing a hand on the wall of the truck, she doubles over, preparing for the inevitable when she hears a whistle from somewhere close by. Or, more specifically, directly behind her.

“What a view baby!“ A drunken slur of a male voice follows that whistle, causing her to straighten up and turn on her heel as fast as possible. “Is that how women ask to get some nowadays?”

Her stomach’s now in knots and she can’t find her voice to say anything. She’s frozen with fear of the man’s silhouette that’s now approaching her. His features aren’t visible in the dark so even if she did know him - which she’s sure she doesn’t - she wouldn’t be able to recognize him. Not that it matters, recognizing him or not, this man’s intentions are more than clear and more than threatening.

“Silence means yes in my book, babe. So...why don’t we have some fun?“ Before she can even register his proximity, he’s grabbed her wrists and pushed her against one of the trucks. The disgusting fucker holds her wrists at either side of her head, firmly holding them there, ridding her of any chance of escape.

The events she’s had to go through have already weakened her enough but even with that put to the side she’s no match for this guy - he’s a lot stronger and bigger in size. He’s basically towering over her like a predator looming over its prey, toying with it before going in for the kill. And when he does, when she feels his lips on her neck, that’s the final straw.

The need to relieve her insides finally takes over and she starts gagging, causing the son of a bitch to pull away and let go of her. And then she throws up, all over him, earning her the perfect distraction that will buy her enough time to get the fuck out of there. Despite the shaking of her legs and her still-turning stomach, Michaela takes off running, feeling sweat drops forming and running down her forehead. She can hear the cursing of that gross fucker behind her, but luckily she doesn’t take notice of another pair of running footsteps, suggesting she isn’t being followed. Even with this knowledge, she doesn’t stop running. Her brain understands she’s somewhat safe but her heart is racing, her heartbeat echoing in her ears warning her that there’s danger all around. So, she keeps running until she’s less then two blocks away from her apartment complex. 

Her adrenaline levels refuse to lower but her legs have basically turned into jelly and she can’t find it in her to even keep walking, let alone running.  She collapses, a mess of tears, sobbing and fear on the sidewalk. It’s too much. All too much and all too soon and all out of nowhere. She feels violated, vulnerable, unsafe. She feels both fragile and like she’s already been broken into shards. She feels alone and worst part is, she feels like she deserves it. She sees what happened between those two truck as a punishment for having participated in a murder and the gruesome disposal of a dead body.

Michaela Pratt always knew karma would catch up to her, she just never expected it’d be this cruel. 

She got taught the hard way that in the darkest of nights, the most evil of demons attack.

                                                                *  *  *

Connor Walsh is known to be laid back and nonchalant to the point of irritative. However, right now, he’s anything but.

He’s anxious, he’s nervous, he’s still under shock and in mild panic mode. He’s restless, pacing the living room of the Keating home while running his hands through his hair, desperately trying to ignore and push away the memories of the events that took place in this very room less than twenty four hours ago. 

“Where the hell is she?!!“ He takes a portion of his anger out on the wooden coffee table with a punch that will for sure bruise his knuckles. His eyes skim over the two other accomplices who have never looked so out of it: dead, bloodshot eyes carrying a thousand yard stare, neither of them reacting to his rage nor sharing it with him. “How the fuck are you so calm?! How can you just sit there and-!“

“Cause there’s nothing we can do!“ Wes suddenly snaps, “You heard Annalise - she called in, saying she wouldn’t be able to make it. So what, you want us to exhibit even more suspicious behavior by thrashing and yelling all over the place?“

“No, no, no. She had said she couldn’t make it because she had something to take care of. That ‘something’ could be reporting us, how do you not understand that?!“ Connor lashes out again, his fists only tightening this time, not finding a victim to take their hits.

“Michaela wouldn’t do that, she’s not stupid. It’ll immediately tie her to it too. She’ll go to jail like the rest of us.“ Laurel says, much calmer than the two men in the room though it probably has to do with the lack of energy due to the lack of sleep.

“You never know what’s going on in the brain of that selfish woman!“ He mutters, suddenly getting up and grabbing his phone. He storms out into the hallway, already dialing Michaela’s number.

With the device pressed tightly against his ear, the dial tone piercing his head like a screech straight from hell, he runs a frustrated hand over his pale as a sheet face, squeezing his eyes shut. The call eventually goes to voicemail, but that doesn’t stop Connor Walsh. He keeps trying, each attempt falling through, each call getting sent to voicemail after about five rings. Each time his anger boiling hotter.

“The hell do you want?! Can’t you catch a hint?!“ His seventh attempt is proven successful when a familiar female voices answers from the other line.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Princess. Am I bothering you? My most sincere apologies! I just wanted to know if you feel like ratting us out to the police, but if I’m calling at an inconvenient time, please forgive me.“ He sneers, his sanity restraints breaking one by one under the pressure of frustration, fear and the anxiety attack that’s been building in his chest all day today.

“Listen here, Walsh.“ Michaela hisses threateningly, though Conner doesn’t fail to pick up on the fact that there’s something off about her voice. He doesn’t dwell on that, too over-occupied with his worries of future jail time to care. “I’m not in the mood for your selfishness or for dealing with any of what happened last night so save your shit-talking for a more decent time. And as for the ratting part, I ain’t that kind of scum, though karma will catch up to each and every one of you. Just like...“ her voice suddenly cracks, the words sounding more like a sob than a threat, “Just like it caught up to me last night.“ That sentence is spoken through a cry, which is the last thing Connor was expecting to hear from the woman he deemed so high and mighty and so full of herself she can’t see the world around her nor how she’s affecting it with her selfish decisions.

That last sentence of hers is what the call ends on and what anchors itself in his head. Connor’s left standing in the hallway with a sickening feeling in his stomach that wasn’t there before and a little voice telling him that something is very wrong with Michaela. Her words were all her trademark, expected and explainable phrases but her tone, and that final statement were odd and far too out of place for him to just brush off. That last line she spoke felt like the most sincere and vulnerable thing she’s ever said to him. To anyone, really. There was no show, no tough act in those words. It was nothing but the confession of a broken girl who’s never felt like her life isn’t her own until now.

With that alarm ringing throughout his head and no good explanation, instead of turning and heading into the living room like he originally intended to, Connor storms out the front door of the home with fast and determined steps, heading for the destination he never thought he’d go to.

                                                              *  *  *

Having ordered food twenty minutes prior, Michaela doesn’t find the doorbell sounding throughout her apartment to be weird or unwelcome despite the fact it made her jump and shudder in her seat. With the comfort of the tiny pepper spray bottle in the back pocket of her jeans, she makes her way to the front door, resting one hand on the handle before pushing up on her toes to check through the peephole that the person she’s expecting is indeed the one who’s on the other side.

Her stomach drops and frustration rises through the roof when the peephole reveals the familiar, somewhat distressed face of Connor Walsh.

“GO AWAY!“ She yells turning and placing her back against the door, now not at all willing to open it.

“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what’s going on with you!“ She hears his voice coming from beyond the door, sounding strangely honest and deeply concerned.

“Why do you care anyway?! I already told you I won’t rat you out, you’ve got nothing to worry about!“ The lack of hostility in her voice seems to encourage Connor to speak a bit more freely.

“Come on, Shooting Star. Students who kill and dispose of bodies together share problems together.“ He says sarcastically but with true gentility behind his words.

That hint of honesty and a bit of harmless humor is what makes her slowly inch her hand toward the doorknob once again. After briefly hesitating, she pulls the door open, not at all bothered by the fact her rival is seeing her the most unpresentable she ever remembers being: hair a mess, homey clothes she can’t even recall the age of, no make-up, eye bags - the whole pack.

“Don’t like a Princess or a Shooting Star, do I?“ She attempts the same amount of humor he used but coming from her it sounds rather dead and flat, not that it’s not to be expected after everything she went through.

“You look like someone who has seen and been through some shit.“ He says truthfully, still standing in the hallway, unwilling to go inside until she gives him the green light for fear she might suddenly snap at him. “And I’m not only talking about what happened with Sam.“

Michaela’s eyes gloss over with tears immediately, mentally cursing herself for being so obvious. In order to avoid eye-contact, she steps aside to allow him inside.

“Thank you.“ He mutters as he makes his way past her and down the hall, arrogantly comfortable in the new surroundings.

By the time Michaela has started regretting her decision of letting him in, she realizes it’s already too late so she shuts and relocks the door before following after him in the living room where she finds him already situated in the armchair like it’s his 100th time visiting. Hell, like he owns the place.

She takes the seat on the couch closest to him, not bothering to offer him any hospitality in the form of drinks and snacks. Such offer feels ridiculous under these circumstances.  Speaking of ridiculous, the circumstances themselves are ridiculous - her biggest rival, and now one of her partners in crime is chilling in her living room with a smug look on his face.

“Karma’s gonna catch up to me, huh?“ He suddenly speaks up, reminding her yet again of how bad of an idea inviting him in was. “Yours caught up to you, you say. Though to me it seems like it beat and battered you too.“

Michaela’s never been a crier. In fact, she’s guilty of silently judging people she’s witnessed crying, thinking of them as weak and spineless. But here she is, fighting back tears at the memories she’d much rather forget.

“It did, but it had the opposite effect. I’m glad we ridded this world of a piece of scum like him. One less man who feels entitled to everything. Who feel free to take anything he wants anytime.“ Her throat feels dry as her eyes fill with tears despite her best attempts at holding them back, “Take a girl’s virginity, take her dignity, her safety, her life, take everything away from her. And all that when she’s most vulnerable and scared and helpless and...“

Her words come to an abrupt halt when she finds Connor has repositioned himself and is now sitting next to her on the couch, has turned to face her and has placed a reluctant hand on her shoulder, “Michaela, what happened to you?”

That’s when she breaks down for the fifth time today. Since that breakdown on the sidewalk on her way home, she’s found it infinitely harder to hold her tears back, keep her emotions at bay. So, instead of easting her energy holding back, she’s been wasting it sobbing into the comforter she had wrapped around herself like a safety cocoon until Connor rang the doorbell.

Instinctively more than intentionally, Connor wraps his arm around her shoulders as she tries to get a few words out in-between sobs, “This guy....h-he t-tried to....” she can’t even finish the sentence without the entire scene playing out in front of her eyes, causing her stomach to tighten and her sobs to grow louder. “But, I-I got away in time. But Connor, what if I d-didn’t? Oh God, what would’ve happened to me if I didn’t?”

“It’s ok, you’re ok now. You’re safe.“ He murmurs, pulling her closer until her head’s resting on his shoulder, “You’re ok. And don’t you ever think of it as karma, you hear me? You didn’t deserve that. No one deserves that. That was in no way your fault or your punishment. That guy’s gonna meet his punishment if I ever lay my eyes on him though, that’s for sure.“

“I-I didn’t see his face, i-it was too dark.“ She manages to say through the subsided sobbing that has now reduced to crying with the occasional sniffle. “I just heard his voice.” Despite having calmed down, she surprisingly doesn’t feel the need to pull away from Connor, create some distance between them. She doesn’t even dwell on how out of character this is for the both of them, nor does she dwell on the slightly off-putting thought that she’s actually glad to have him by her side. To have someone comforting and reassuring her that what happened is not a result of her own bad actions. That thought haunted her all night, preventing her from even thinking about falling asleep.

“Well, if you ever recognize his voice anywhere, you know you have three experienced killers and dismemberers you can contact to, you know, do the job.“ He says comfortingly, his tone light but still serious.

She can’t help but scoff, “One kill and you’re suddenly hitmen?”

Connor chuckles, “When someone messes with one of our own, we sure as hell are.”

That sentence feels like a bandage on one of Michaela’s many invisible wounds. That one of our own line fills that hole her loneliness drilled into her last night on that sidewalk when she felt so lost and alone and broken. When she felt she had no one to turn to and no one to seek comfort in. 

Among the many things she saw, heard and learned, the most valuable lesson these past twenty four hours have taught Michaela is that after the darkest of nights still comes morning. A bright morning, a new beginning and a helping hand with it. A helping hand, a safe embrace and comforting words. Bonus lesson is that one can never guess where, or rather from who those three elements will be given. These two are a crystal clear example: never did Michaela think she’d find a helping hand, safe embrace and comforting words coming from Connor Walsh. But here they are.

It may be odd and it may be temporary, but she’s not complaining, he doesn’t appear to be doing so either.

[scorpioxsith]

Half Moon Rising - Maul/Reader

Feeling totally WEIRD about this because I haven’t posted fic in like...5 years. But I really love Maul right now and felt inspired. Soo..yeah!

This is a standard Maul/Reader insert, pretty sure I’ve avoided most descriptive terms but I’d say Reader is a young woman.

No warnings, I guess a little sexual tension/angst/violence. I mean I hope to get much hotter but I’m easing myself into this

Despite your Force-senses, your feet tumbled over each other clumsily as you were dragged onwards. A rough, fibrous bag covered your head and the calloused hands of scoundrels gripped you roughly as they forced you to continue your steps. You tried to maintain a sense of calmness, only remembering what you could of your training.

You were once a Padawan in the Jedi order, but you never finished your training. The night before the final ceremony, your mother had passed suddenly. You recalled a bitter understanding that emotions were not the Jedi way, that you must let go of things when the time comes. This knowledge had not stopped your grief from clouding your judgement. Her passing sent you into a period of depression, and your emotions had cost you the title of Jedi.

It hadn’t mattered at the time. It didn’t matter now. You remembered your peers, shocked at your willingness to give up all your dedication for all of your short lifetime. Although you had a strong sense of justice, you’d always felt emotions very deeply. That was not the Jedi way. It had been right to leave, and you hadn’t looked back since.

You weren’t sure how your choices had led to this path. It certainly wasn’t what you’d expected.

Ever since, you had been living in the shadows, smuggling and occasionally stealing to make a living. You had managed to stay alive - so far - by staying careful of whom you stole from. Your Force abilities also meant you were very good at making escapes. This, would be a new challenge entirely though. One you understood you may not see yourself out of.

There was a shift in the air density - suddenly it was cooler - and you surmised you’d come to an opening in the dark, never ending tunnels. With a sharp shove from the man gripping your left shoulder, you fell to your knees roughly, almost falling on your face thanks to the cuffs that bound your hands behind your back. You inhaled deep breaths through your nose, exhaling through your mouth, in an attempt to maintain clarity of your remaining senses.

You reached out with the Force, trying to gauge how many of them were surrounding you. Maybe ten men. You could take them, maybe. But as your tendrils tentatively felt around the room, something suffocatingly powerful and dark wrapped around your aura, strangling you. Asserting its dominance. It touched your feelings like a burn, making you instantly recoil your senses back into yourself.

Dread began to flower like an unstoppable weed in your gut, prickling up your spine and stinging your nerve endings.

“Leave us,” rumbled a deep, ominous voice.

You heard footsteps shuffling away from the opening, some of the men shoving past you purposefully, until one barged into your shoulder with enough force to knock you off balance. You gasped as you fell to your side, nothing to break your fall. As you lay there briefly, pride diminished, you were almost thankful for the bag on your head as it hid the blatant hotness that creeped up your neck and flushed cheeks in frustration. Even with your Force senses withdrawn inwards, you could feel an overbearing satisfaction over your pitiful state rolling over you in potent waves, emanating from the one remaining body in the room.

You forced yourself back up to your knees. You continued to try to stand fully but were stopped by a crushing force pressing down upon you. You gritted your teeth as the pressure on your back became too much and you submitted.

The bag was whipped off your head without warning and you blinked quickly, eyes adjusting to the dim light in the tunnels, met only with empty space. You swallowed thickly, craning your neck to try and look behind you. An invisible pull whipped your head back to the front before you could.

“Curious little thing,” he chided.

You glared into the disappearing darkness of the tunnel ahead of you. “I like to face my enemies.”

You sensed a hand reach through the air towards you but still flinched as long, rough fingers winded into the hair at the nape of your neck. Nails caressing your sensitive scalp sent an involuntary shiver through you. Yet again you sensed a smugness flowing from them at your compromised position.

You heard him step closer behind you, too close, and suddenly felt overwhelmed. He was so close you could feel his body heat prickling at your bare skin. A dark and powerful energy caressed yours and you couldn’t help from pulling yourself inwards, flinching away. In response, the grip at your neck tightened, forcing your back to arch and your neck towards him in a vain attempt to relieve the pain pulling at the roots of your hair.

As you winced in his grasp, he came into your vision, albeit upside down, looming over you oppressively. “How unfortunate for you, to call yourself an enemy of mine.”

Your eyes widened, meeting ferocious amber iris’s stained with blood red veins and darkness. You broke eye contact to sweep your vision over his red and black tattooed face, up to the horns protruding from his skull menacingly. You were at the mercy of a beast. A Sith Lord.

His eyes narrowed when you met them again. “I see my reputation precedes me.”

“Maul,” you spat.

“Now, now, in your thoughts you were much more respectful,” he reprimanded, “Try again.”

At your silence, he gripped you even harsher, and his claws began to pierce the skin above your neck. To your dismay, you released a cry of pain, but still no words. He tutted at you, before his other hand floated into your peripheral vision, resting at your temples almost soothingly.

Suddenly, a crushing sensation overcame you, like a migraine splitting your head open and burning fire into the deepest corners of your mind. You screeched in pain as you lost all sense of control, until your legs gave way and you were held in place only by his grip.

His other hand left your temple and the pain swiftly subsided. Awfully, your body involuntarily sagged in relief against him. You cringed and tried to lift yourself away, but the hand at your nape had already snaked to wrap around the front of your neck now, holding you in place. You struggled and writhed in an attempt to shake him off, to which his hand squeezed tighter around your throat. You couldn’t escape his frame, his shadow. Stars began to dance at the edges of your eyes, until your vision tunnelled and his intriguing face was the only thing you could see. You were on the verge of passing out before he let up. When your vision returned, he was looking at you expectantly. Your eyes felt hot, prickly, a telltale sign that tears were threatening to breach, but the last thing you wanted to do after showing so much weakness already was to actually cry.

You finally relented. “Lord Maul.”

He hummed approvingly. You wished he would let you go, not stand so close that you could feel his body heat, smell the soft musk that was obviously his natural smell, and worst of all, feel his dark and draining Force energy licking at your soul in what felt like biting flames.

As if your prayers had been answered, he released you harshly, pushing you forward. You barely managed to stay upright and not fall forwards once again. He circled you as you regained your balance.

“And who might you be?” he countered, once he was stood directly in front of you, a few feet away.

You avoided his intense gaze, looking to the side. “I…I’m no one, really.”

“That may be so,” he sneered, “but I sensed you on this planet before you even left your ship. It’s not often I come across your kind any more.”

The disgust in his tone was palpable. You jutted out your chin. “I’m just a smuggler,” you deflected.

He grunted in acknowledgement. “Did you know who you were stealing from this time?”

It was a weighted question. Truthfully, you muttered, “no.”

He bared his teeth. From your position looking up at him, he was even scarier than the stories you had heard. “You should research more thoroughly before you go walking into places you don’t belong,” he said ominously. His horned head tilted, considering you. “Who gave you this job?”

You pursed your lips and hung your head. This was only going to go one way. He didn’t need to explain himself. It was either fess up, or have your mind pulled apart again until it broke open for him. A part of you wanted to retain your dignity, fight the good fight. You were stubborn by nature. But as you looked up at his hulking figure, avoided catching his glowing eyes directly, the concept of bravery seemed just as foolish as it did noble. You noticed him smirk as you came to that conclusion, telling you he knew that as well.

“It was The Hutts,” you said, your voice breaking slightly, throat sore from his heavy hand earlier.

Maul didn’t show any outward reaction, only continuing to look down at you coldly. He took one step closer to you, causing your breath to falter for a moment.

You wondered if elaborating would save your skin. Or had he already decided your fate? Partly, you were struggling to get words out as it was. He was very intimidating.

“You are certainly no Jedi,” he stated. Was that disappointment you could hear in his tone? You felt an unforgiving push at your consciousness again as he used the dark side of the force to sift through your mind. You winced.

“Get out of my head,” you whispered.

“You left the Order before you finished your training,” Maul concluded.

You only glared up at him in response.

“For your own good,” he continued somewhat casually. “You would have been executed with the rest had you stayed.”

You stared at the floor. He didn’t seem to like that and it felt as though an invisible fist had uppercut your chin as he used his powers to force you to look at him.

“Why are you dragging this out?” you accused.

He snarled, stepping closer again, “I don’t think you’re in any position to question me, little one.”

You leaned away from him as much as you could. His dark energy was suffocating, like a fizzing volcano about to unleash its rage on you. Suddenly, you felt the cuffs around your wrists go slack and your arms relaxed to the new range of motion.

“Get up,” he ordered as you were busy looking down at your freed wrists, “Up!”

You stumbled to your feet, backing away from him as he quickly advanced on you.

“It’s been too long since I’ve had a worthy opponent,” he said, and your eyes widened in panic. “Well…” he teased, as though he were pondering the notion, “I suppose worthy is an exaggeration. But we can have a little dance, can’t we?” he looked at you in a way that had you shaking your head, backing away still, chills running down your spine. Like a fox ready to rip apart a hare.

His hand went to his side as he drew his weapon. Holding his sabre in front of him horizontally, the two sabres ignited one after the other, your eyes following each of them as they instantly bathed the room in a red glow.

“This isn’t a fair fight!” you blurted, “I haven’t had a sabre since I left the order!”

Maul laughed ominously. “Then this may not take as long as I thought.”

He lunged, giving you no choice but to dive away from the wrath of the sabre headed for your abdomen. Your eyes constantly switched between him, one sabre then the other. You jumped back on your feet, quickly regaining distance between you again. “Maul…” you warned, backing away into the tunnels. His expression was unreadable, though you could tell he was enjoying this, matching your every step back with a step forward. Very aware of your huge disadvantage, you seized the only opportunity you had to turn around and bolt down the tunnel, away from imminent danger.

Your lifestyle kept you relatively fit but you knew Maul would be faster. He had every physical advantage you could wish for. You chanced a glance over your shoulder and caught him just entering the the mouth of the tunnel. He was taking his time. Playing with you.

You screeched left, then right, right, left, trying to remember where you had gone but it wasn’t long until you had no idea where you’d taken yourself. Your lungs started to burn, all of these tunnels looked identical to each other, but occasionally you would hear the ominous sound of Maul swishing his lightsabre, taunting you.

After maybe ten minutes, you had to stop. You’d hadn’t been pacing yourself. In your haste to put as much distance between you and Maul as possible you had been sprinting at maximum effort. You breathed ragged breaths but knew you had to be quiet. But he would find you using the Force anyway…

Panic threatened to disable you as you gripped your head in hysteria. You’d chosen flight over fight, but there was no escape. Only the endless tunnels. That bastard could at least give you a sabre and make it a fair duel. Your anger bubbled and you screamed, “COWARD!”

You felt Maul’s force signature slam at you in response. You had offended him, it seemed.

I am the coward? You are the one who is running, little padawan.

You spun around at the phantom sound of his voice in your head. “A true warrior would give me a blade and fight properly!” you shouted into the shadows.

You were met with silence, and you continued to walk through the tunnels, using the Force during this precious quiet moment to guide you. Perhaps you could miraculously find the path out of here.

“You make a good point, youngling.”

You stopped dead in your tracks. His voice wasn’t in your head this time. It seemed to be coming from ahead of you, and you cautiously took a few steps back before turning to run. Just as you were about to dart left down a new tunnel, you saw the tip of his red lightsaber emerge and then Maul himself appeared, rage pulling his tattooed features into a distorted demon.

You whimpered for the first time, you were tiring, you knew in your heart you couldn’t take him. He was too powerful. His chest rose with a deep inhale as he smiled, feeling your frightened thoughts, bathing in them. As your feet carried you backwards again, he stopped, unscrewing his double bladed lightsaber before you. Your heart stuttered.

He raised his brows, challenging you, and with a flick of his wrist one of the sabres flew into the air, towards you. You caught it gracefully through pure instinct.

You looked to Maul, then the sabre, unintentionally in awe. You hadn’t held a sabre in…years. It carried a strange weight, just as you remembered. A phantom feeling surged in your heart, a warm, welcoming feeling, like seeing an old friend for the first time in years. You didn’t notice Maul, curiously watching you in your trance, head tilted.

When you caught his eyes again, a strange feeling fizzled between you.

He grinned, taking an offensive stance, “No excuses now, girl.”

That was the only warning he gave you before he struck, closing the distance between you in the blink of an eye. You blocked his attack just in time, you were sloppy, out of practice. He flourished the sabre down, you blocked again, and again, and again. His fighting style was chaotic and like nothing you had ever faced before. Relentlessly, he ploughed strikes into you, advancing as you moved away. You couldn’t seem to break the cycle, only managing to defend yourself against his erratic attacks within an inch of your life.

Suddenly you roared, harnessing all the strength inside you and trying a combo you remembered to be an old favourite. He blocked your novice attacks easily, but you continued to strike, until you attacked five hits in a row and started to get a feeling he was letting you. But you wouldn’t be lured into a false sense of security.

You heard his voice whisper in your head as your eyes connected through the beams of the crossed sabres.

Clever girl…

“Shut up!” you yelled, swinging your weapon to his left side. He dodged, jumping backwards then suddenly advancing on you with a succession of unforgiving powerful hits from above. Your arm shook with the impact, your annoyingly delicate wrist barely withstanding his brutal strength.

You backed away quickly, unintentionally letting out a pained yelp. He gave you no reprieve, moving forward swiftly to strike constantly as your blocks became weaker, until he finally spun in an expert display — his lightsaber striking yours out of your hand — kicking you in the chest and knocking you off of your feet.

Winded, you coughed, looking up at him in panic as he advanced toward you. As you began to crawl back, his heavy boot planted on your bruised chest and his sabre came to point at your chin. You could only follow the blade’s trajectory to gaze up at his face. You were scared and you hated it. Hated how small and weak he made you feel, especially in these last moments.

As though contemplating your fate, he hummed darkly, a sound so deep you swore you felt the vibrations of his timbre ripple through you. You felt the weight of his boot get heavier, he was purposefully crushing you until you squirmed, your hands wrapping around his leg and pulling at him to no avail. You wailed, “please.”

His lip twitched. “Please, what?” More pressure. You could swear you could feel it in your head now too.

You cried in pain, “I.. I don’t know, please,” you almost sobbed. You didn’t even know what you were begging for. Mercy? It seemed pointless to ask for such a thing given who he was. This would only serve to destroy your dignity in your last moments.

His boot left your chest and you gasped for air as he repositioned, lowering himself over you dizzyingly before you could even blink. “No,” you struggled as he trapped your arms under his legs, he came to almost be sitting on your chest. You looked up at his tattooed face in confusion, why was he doing this, why hadn’t he finished you, why were you in this awful position?

Knowing you were trapped, he let you wriggle and fight against his weight, watching you patiently as though he were mildly entertained and enjoying your struggle. You let out a final scream in frustration, giving up as a treacherous tear slipped down your check. You looked to the side, couldn’t look at him, as he bowed forward and, unbelievably, kissed your cheek at your teardrop. It was sickeningly sweet, but not done to comfort you, only to patronise and scare you. Then, his hot tongue licked your cheek, upwards, tracing the tears path. The tip of his nose tickled your skin, and you realised he was inhaling, smelling you as he trailed around to the side of your face before dipping down into the crook of your neck.

You were shaking in fear, he was too close, you didn’t understand, and although you couldn’t see anything beyond him, you could still hear the buzzing of the lightsaber, constantly reminding you of your precarious situation.

He hummed again and a deep, sinful noise, almost a growl originating from his chest vibrated through you - you felt it everywhere. Everywhere. You whimpered involuntarily which only seemed to spur him on and he chuckled darkly into the sensitive skin at your neck. It sent nerves blazing down your spine, you would have shuddered if it were not for his weight pressing down on you.

Maul broke the silence, his breath caressing your neck, “Curious how you came to be here, isn’t it?”

You swallowed, gathering your retort, “the Force moves in mysterious ways…”

It was meant to be a mock joke, but your shaky voice ruins the delivery.

He rose up to resume his position above you, barking out a laugh. “Indeed, it does,” his eyes roamed over you ominously, blade returning to its position below your neck. You stilled.

“Tell me young one,” he began, pausing until you met his eyes, “have you longed for a Master over the years?”

His bold question lingered in the air as you stared back at him, shock and surprise stuttering you before a rush of heat flooded up your neck. His dark eyes flickered to your collarbone, making you instantly conscious the flush was visible. You didn’t know which felt heavier, his gaze or his touch.

“Answer me,” he commanded.

Blinking up at him, your lips parted and a tiny voice unlike your own uttered, “yes.”

“Good,” he hummed, and bizarrely, a fluttering warmth rushed through you. What the hell?

His mouth twitched upwards minutely before suddenly his blade retreated, its buzzing white noise and red light extinguished, leaving you both in quiet darkness.

“Although you have shown to be weak in your resolve, unskilled in your technique, unguarded with your thoughts…” Maul paused again, allowing his words to sink in, satisfied as a trace of hurt flickered in your eyes at his criticism. “These misgivings could be resolved under my teaching.”

Your breath hitched as a heavy moment passed between you, tension fizzing in the air. You knew you would have to choose your next words carefully.

“You would…teach me?” you murmured as he inclined his head, but you continued, “but this would involve…the Dark side?”

He smiled. “Of course, sweet thing. Those emotions you feel so strongly, they will be put to good use.”

You bristled at his words, his use of the word ‘good’ resonating in you through the sheer irony of it. Although your inability to reconcile with your emotions back then had diverted you from your Jedi path, by no means had you ever considered the dark side, or the Sith teachings. But now, you couldn’t escape how you’d felt when Maul’s sabre landed in your grasp, or the strange pull that was drawing you to him.

Maul’s eyes hardened, sensing your uncertainty. He seemed to look over you once more, then you felt his weight shift until he had rose away from you entirely, the sudden loss of his body heat making the cold air of the tunnel bite your skin instantly. He took a step back as you scrambled to your feet.

You tugged your clothes back into place self consciously as a quiet moment passed between you. As your gaze drifted over him, you realised you had no desire to crawl back to your rackety ship, nor answer to the Hutts for the unretrievable cargo. In fact, you’d likely have to go into hiding for several cycles - or work double jobs to make back what you apparently owe. The alternate path, the temptation Maul was laying out for you, would mean you never had to answer to those slimes - or anyone - ever again. Except for obviously, Maul himself.

Your heart hammered against your chest as you stepped toward him, closing the distance he had just allowed you. He must have already known your verdict, for as your eyes met once again, a large warm hand began to trail up your arm, coming to rest on your shoulder securely.

“I accept…” you began, unable to hide your own grin as an infectious smirk pulled at his lips, waiting for you to say… “Master.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Thanks if you made it all this way and hope you enjoyed.

[elveny]

Monday Mix

Over the course of the last week, I was tagged by so many amazing people for amazing stuff and didn’t manage to answer a single one. SORRY!! But I was still pretty productive, so you’ll get something longer today ❤

I was tagged for Six Sentence Sunday by @pikapeppa​ @oftachancer​ @kunstpause​ @cornfedcryptid​ @midnightprelude​ and @nusaran​; for Sexy Saturday (LET’S MAKE THIS A THING!!) by @schoute​; for Thirsty Thursday by @pikapeppa​ and Last Line Meme by @fandomn00blr​. THANK YOU ALL!! ... and I realize I haven’t written anything smutty in far too long. This has to change! (Slow burn has its disadvantages... 🙈)

Tagging you all back to share something this week, as well as @curiousthimble​ @irlaimsaaralath​ @faerieavalon​ @wardenari​ @kauriart​ and @johaeryslavellan​. As always, no pressure.

Have a little fluff from an upcoming chapter of The Mind Lies Not The Heart:

“Andraste’s tits, you’re cold,” Anders muttered as Adriene cuddled up into his arm with a relieved sigh.

“Sorry,” she said without pulling away. Instead, she snuggled even closer, threading her bare feet between his. “But you’re wonderfully warm. Mages always run a bit hotter than anyone else, I love it.”

Anders chuckled. “We do?”

“Mhm,” she nodded, a smile in the corner of her lips. “Even Cassia. Except for her hands, of course.”

For a few moments, Adriene was content just being close to him, feeling the tension and black fear slowly leave her. She could feel Anders’ breath in her hair, calm and regular, and finally relaxed.

“Anders?” she asked softly.

“Hm?” His voice was already drowsy again, but the mage light still hovered in the air about them, spreading a soft glow through the room, telling her that he had not fallen asleep again yet.

“Can you do some magic for me?”

“What?” There was an honest surprise in him as she turned her head to look at him.

Adriene nodded with a smile. “Dad always conjured little dragons, made them fly around the room. It always calmed me down. And your magic feels like home to me, warm and soft.”

For a moment, Anders was quiet. His face was half-hidden by shadows, so she couldn’t quite read his expression. When he didn’t say anything, she put a hand on his chest. “Did I say something wrong?”

Immediately, he shook his head. “No,” he said, his voice thick, and cleared his throat. “Not at all. It’s just that most people don’t see any difference between the magic used by different people. I didn’t know you felt that.”

“Sure I do,” she smiled. “Maybe because I’ve always been surrounded by magic. Dad was dark red, like... power. Bethany is darker than you but lighter than Dad’s magic. Softer, somewhat. But then, she has a knack for healing as well.”

“Hm,” Anders hummed thoughtfully. With a little wave of his hand, the mage light changed form, and a tiny golden dragon soared through the air, flying circles over their head. A wide smile came onto Adriene’s lips as she relaxed back and watched it fly. This was perfect.

“Cassia's magic feels like the smell of snow in the air,” Adriene continued softly, her voice getting dreamy. “Fenris is cool and dark, like a star-lit night. Merrill’s magic is like the darkest, mossy parts of the forest. And Justice is hard. Like wet rocks in the ocean.”

She put out her hand, and the light dragon landed on her outstretched finger, sending a tingle over her skin.

Ander’s voice was very soft as he asked, “There’s a difference between Justice and me?”

“Of course there is,” she nodded. The dragon took flight again, and she pulled the blanket more closely over herself, her eyelids getting heavy. “I told you before.”

For a few moments longer, she watched the dragon’s silent flight, but with every passing second, it was more difficult to keep her eyes open. But with the feeling of Anders’ warmth against her, his arm around her shoulder, she no longer feared the dreams. She wasn’t alone tonight. That was all that counted.

“Thank you for being here for me,” she mumbled, her words already slurred as her eyes fluttered close.

“Anytime,” came his whispered answer against her hair. “Anytime.”

[wrathfulspark]

@xreznikovx

As Elidi turned in her arms Tamryn stopped short in order to not knock them both off balance. Her eyes scanned over the witch’s face fondly as she spoke, lingering upon her lips as she said the words be alone though her gaze was lifted to meet her partner’s gaze when she felt Elidi’s hand cup her cheek. While making eye contact she leaned her head into her lover’s palm affectionately yet the look on her face turned to stern when the witch spoke of no longer wanting to tell her for not wanting to ruin the moment. The she wolf gave her a look and leaned her head back some as she arched a brow,

“You think of it as ruining moments, I call it deepening them. If what I told you could not ruin that moment, then I don’t think anything will ruin this one. However you can be selfish for as long as you want with me, I am patient when it comes to you. Specially in this moment.”

Feeling Elidi rest her forehead against her own the Alpha tightened her hold to bring them closer together. Her eyes intently focused on the witch’s face as she lingered in the moment with her for as long as was needed. Remaining silent she watched with that typical wolf like nature about herself as she let Elidi break the embrace and lead her onward. She kept her focus on the woman who held her affections entirely the fact she was willingly letting Elidi lead her by the hand was a sign the dominant Alpha placed the witch above most others. She rarely let someone take any sort of lead over her, yet with Elidi she was more than willing to trailed along through the night.

 Being pulled from her thoughts of how Elidi looked leading her by the hand the wolf met her partner’s gaze and furrowed her brow upon hearing the quick spoken apology. Before she could react or question she was pulled in and transported elsewhere.

 Once the reached the location Tamryn’s normally regal stance faltered as she felt the alcohol and the teleportation spell clash with one another in her being. Once she gained her barrings and realized the familiar scent of Elidi’s home the she wolf regained what composure she could though she was feeling the bottle she drank a lot harder now. Following in step with the witch Tamryn slumped back onto the swing with her, her yellow hues glowing in the darkness as she lost the ability to control that aspect upon the disorienting feeling of the spell mixed with her own intoxication. She turned her torso to face Elidi on the swing before she shook her head somewhat,

 “No, it was fine, and its charming that you felt that place was not up to my standards. I prefer this setting in honesty, It smells like you and the things you like which is far more appealing than the scents that bar and its outside area accumulated.”

As the gazed at one another the she wolf let out an affection whine before moving closer to the dark haired woman by her side. She remained focused on Elidi as she sat back and began to speak, as the witch spoke of her past Tamryn could picture her in her rookie years, a fond smirk formed to her lips as she listened, picturing how cute Elidi probably looked in a uniform though she fully appreciated the way the woman dressed for her line of work now. It was still a tempting thought to have in her silent admiration.

 Her fond smile faded to a serious expression as the story took a darker tone, Tamryn sat upright a bit upon hearing how injured she had gotten, though she didn’t get defensive, she had no right to be in that moment given she didn't even know Elidi then. Still the red head listened with interest and concern upon her defined and drunken features. She kept silent as she usually did when it came to Elidi telling her about her own history. It captivated the she wolf to be told such deep parts of the woman's past, parts she knew were not shared with others given the witch’s personality of not being so forthcoming when it came to her past and herself in general. It was one of the many reasons Tamryn valued their relationship. It brought them both to a levels they shared rarely with anyone else.

When Elidi seemed to reach the end of her story Tamryn took it all in for a moment, just as she was going to speak her hand was lifted to the back of her lover’s neck. Her focused gaze dropped to where her fingertips touched, she remained in her silence until Elidi seemed to turn away upon mentioning that her eyes used to be brown. The  Alpha glared softly at her and tilted her head, again about to interject before she was silenced once more with a kiss. Exhaling softly into the kiss she gripped the sides of Elidi’s face and pulled her deeper into the kiss as if to make a silent statement before letting her pull back to speak, letting  her head fall back against the swing she growled softly in protest,

 “You do not ruin our moment   mon chéri, we are too headstrong for things such as this to ruin any moment we find ourselves in because what we feel is stronger than whatever it is we’ve gone through in the past. I love your eyes as they are now. When they glow and how intensely blue they are naturally. What happened to you is not something to be ashamed of, you were given great power, sometimes with that comes great sacrifices.”

She sat up once more and reached up to brush her thumb fondly over Elidi’s eyebrow scar as she let her eyes scanned over her lover’s face before locking with her gaze affectionately,

“Your scars, all of them are gorgeous to me. They make you the woman you are today and I am extremely in awe of that woman. I always appreciate what you tell me and no one else. I value you Eli, for everything you are and stand for. There is close to nothing you could do or say at this point that would sway my interests or affections for you. Telling me these things only makes me fall deeper into whatever this is we are creating together.”

Soothed by the tender words spoken by Tamryn, the regret departs noticeably from incadescent hues. The corners of her lips rose impassioned by the redhead, adoration reflecting strongly across her features. A light breeze tossled their hair accompanied by the faint smell of rain, a telling sign of her blithesome spirit. Her hand moved to stroke along Tamryn's cheek, digits stroking underneath her chin before softly speaking, "Misericordia, amor? Mi corazón solo puede soportar tanto."

Elidi stood from the wooden bench, her fingers entangled with the alphas as she coarsed her into standing. "I hope it doesn't frighten you when I say, I hope we are creating something everlasting." Temperant lips pressed to the fair skin along Tamryn's temple. "I know we both have skeletons in the closets but you are right. I don't think there is anything you could utter that would sway my feelings at this point. One in the same. I'm relieved to hear the same sentiments from you." Elidi wavered, bright optics searching the other women's gaze, desiring to convey her emotions properly. "With that being said, I am a formidable opponent now, least to those I find reprehensible. Beside all my competency, I will use the best of my judgment to keep us both out of harms way." She raised their intertwined hands to her mouth, pressing a kiss along Tamryns's knuckles. "You have my word, Querida."

Appeased by her own response, Elidi guided Tamryn to the backdoor before leading her in the living room. Warm lights switched on once they entered the witches home, candles dimly lighting. The house seemingly came to life as its owner returned. Once Tamryn took a seat, Elidi excused herself from the alpha, heading into her bedroom.

Alone in her room, the witch approached her dresser, sliding the top drawer open. Inside the chest lies two black boxes atop her folded garments. There isn't a second of hesitation as she reaches to grab them both, switching the lights off as she exits the bedroom.

Faced with the alpha perched upon her couch, a smile stretched across pinkened petals, swayed by the sight of the redhead bathed in the orange glow of the candles. Least she get distracted, Elidi closed the gap between the two women, sitting on her knees adjacent to Tamryn on the couch.

The lid is opened to one of the boxes, grateful she grabbed the correct bracelet as she turns the item over for Tamryn to see. The piece of jewelry is near gold in color, wire wrapped with a single crystal embedded in the center. Underneath the clasp is hidden inside an intricately fashioned rose. "This is your bracelet." Elidi began simply, wetting her lips suddenly nervous with the act, "I've enchanted it with the very best of my abilities, and soaked it in crystal infused waters to seal in my magical properties."

Removing the bracelet from its container she held it openly in her palm. "I've designed it so we may secretly alert one another if we are in danger or not. The feat is unintentional, so if you don't wish me to know your true emotions, I wouldn't adorn it. It will track your heart rate even, knowledgeable of when pain is inflicted upon you, to signal me, and I'll come find you." Her gaze rises from her palm to meet Tamryns, "To inform you, the bracelet will warm up. The hotter it is, the higher the danger or pain is. It should not burn you, if it does I will alter it."

An unsettled blush dusted across her cheeks, hues averting from the redhead. Hopefully Tamryn would be pleased with her gift, an offering to secure their bond even further. Certainly a high amount of effort was placed into creating it, recollections of burning her fingers pass her mind, recalling when she drew the opposite properties of the black cohosh out. Her favorite part in creation had been the infusement, selecting an assortment of crystals and herbs was always exciting, bountiful with the options she owns.

She found herself stammering, causing her skin to redden further, "T-the crystal is Kyanite, a popular stone in protection and I thought it fitting, seeing as the colors seem to reflect our own." She spoke softly now, eyes focused on the gemstone in her hold. A blue stone with flecks of orange mingled amongst the cool color. "Additionally no soul can remove it from your body, that is a power belonging only to you, and if somehow the spell is broken, my own crystal will shatter."

Blushing still, Elidi met Tamryn's gaze, her expression unusually demure. "As long as I'm alive Red, the spell will remain in tact just as well."

[clansayeed]

Bound by Destiny II, part 1 ― Chapter 10: The Elite

PAIRING: Kamilah Sayeed x MC (Nadya Al Jamil) RATING: Mature

⥼ MASTERLIST ⥽

⥼ Bound by Destiny II, part 1 ⥽

While struggling with nightmares of lives she’s never lived, a shadow from the past looming over her city, and the proposed idea that her life may just be a little bit too weird to handle alone, Nadya makes sure to tell herself that everything is perfect just the way it is. If only. When the self-proclaimed King of Vampires (and Maker of her sometimes-girlfriend and always-boss, can’t forget that little tidbit) Gaius Augustine returns intent on claiming Manhattan as the throne that was promised, she and her friends find themselves forced into the task of saving the world. But with millennia-old vampires and an Order of hunters on their heels as well as allies hiding catastrophic secrets at their backs… it won’t be an easy task. Too bad destiny didn’t exactly ask for her input.

Bound by Destiny II and the rest of the Oblivion Bound series is an ongoing dramatic retelling project of the Bloodbound series and spin-off, Nightbound. Find out more [HERE].

*Let me know if you would like to be added to the Destiny II tag list!

⥼ Chapter Summary ⥽

Nadya finds a kindred soul in Taylor Hunter, who was also living a perfectly normal life before being shoved into the chaos of the supernatural. Later, the good news is the Amulet is still in the city. The bad news is they'll have to bid for it... and bidding wars here can be deadly.

[READ IT ON AO3]

“I don’t know guys,” she lingers just on the edge of the morning sunlight; already warm at her back, “I can’t say I’m entirely comfortable leaving you with the people who literally just tried to kill us.”

Unfortunately though they’re a little short in the way of other options. New Orleans is only gonna get hotter and sunnier and while ideal for a mysterious club, Flechette standing on its own and away from the rest of the crammed-together French Quarter buildings doesn’t lend to a safe return to the Graveyard Shift.

Still — Nadya has concerns and she’s gonna voice them.

“I think we’ll be fine.” Though Adrian could try a little bit harder to reassure her. But he’s been distracted ever since the de la Rosa vampires lowered their proverbial weapons. Given how he acted — how cold and cruel he was in the face of enemies — Nadya can’t say she wouldn’t be a little distracted in his shoes. “Whether we’re in her good graces or not, Gaius still poses a threat to all of us regardless. And Isadora seems quite keen on keeping her way of life intact.”

Lily’s boots catch and drag on the concrete under the soles. “Can’t say I’ll be getting much sleep, but she’s kinda our only choice in the way of, ahem, late-morning snacks.”

Nadya understands and offers her a consoling smile. Lily tries to return it, but when she feels the catch of her fangs on her lower lip she practically zips them up and throws away the key.

She’s seen Lily do some strange things with the blood bags back at the apartment. But Nadya has yet to actually see her… you know, and on someone’s neck. Nor is she keen to add it to the list of things she’s seen and been mentally scarred by.

Well if they’re okay with it she really doesn’t have a reason to keep doubting, then, does she?

Nadya peers over Lily’s shoulder to the main floor of the club. With the lights on the place is far less goth-chic but she doesn’t have to squint to see anything anymore, so that’s a plus.

“Keep an eye on him, will you? Just in case…” Nadya asks of them, prompting both vampires to turn and follow her gaze to where Cadence sits. He’s still hunched over one of the dark glossy tables, scribbling away at a piece of paper. Just like he’s been doing ever since Isadora managed to bring him back to consciousness.

After Cadence had separated Isadora’s psychic link he was out. Like… out out. Like actually worried the woman to the point where she was ready to close the club and run him to some local voodoo man out. And everyone was relieved when he finally came to of his own volition but there was no denying he had come back… strange.

Or maybe strange is just the feeling Nadya gets when she looks at him now. Maybe no one else feels it. Maybe she’s just lost a few more marbles.

Of course Adrian and Lily agree. Nadya gives each of them a hug farewell but right before she takes her leave the familiar sound of Isadora’s heels comes up all too quickly.

The woman stays well out of the way of the daylight, just like Adrian and Lily. She looks wearier now than when they first met. Objectively Nadya knows vampires don’t age. But Isadora looks like she’s trying to challenge that theory.

“I’ve called on someone to take you back to the Quarter safely,” says Isadora brusquely, “it may no longer be night but there are numerous factions within our borders that can act at any time.”

“Seems… inhospitable.” Adrian comments. He doesn’t miss the sharp look thrown his way.

“Perhaps. But at least we declare ourselves to our enemies.”

“And you’re implying…?”

“That I trust my allies with certainty. From what I’ve come to understand about your Council, that is not something you are familiar with.”

How has it been five whole freaking seconds and already every anxiety Nadya has about leaving is back with a vengeance?

But Lily sees this and waves her off. “Go while you still can. I’ve got this. You should hear some of the dirt Mari and Jax pull out during a fight.”

If she doesn’t leave now she never will, so Nadya mouths a final “good luck” and pushes through the doors out into the thick morning air.

Immediately she tries to fan herself with her hand, and all that does is push hot air at her.

“Yeah, it takes some getting used to.”

Nadya can’t help it — she almost jumps out of her skin in fright. “Don’tdothat!”

She rounds on the young man, who can’t be older than she is by a year or more, and who apparently finds it funny to give a poor girl a heart attack. If she had her purse she’d swing it at him. The stakes would at least leave a bruise.

He holds his hands up in surrender. “Sorry, sorry. Though I’m gonna need some explaining on how someone that jumpy can hang out in Flechette all night. Doesn’t quite add up, you know?”

He has a point which is rude enough. Worse that he has an incredibly disarming smile directed right at her. Nadya busies herself with tying her hair up to cool off her neck. “After a while you learn to expect what moves vampires are gonna pull. People, though? They’re still too unpredictable.”

“You know,” he laughs, “that’s fair and valid. And pretty true, actually…”

He’s not passing her. And Nadya has the distinct impression if she starts trying to make her way back up the street he’d be right there at her side; tagging along.

“You’re the person Isadora called, then?”

“Taylor Hunter,” he finally introduces; they shake hands light and brief, “but if you didn’t know my name… how’d you know I was who you were lookin’ for, Miss Nadya?”

Nadya pushes up her glasses with a shrug. “Just Nadya, and… Your eyes. They don’t look human.” They’re too bright, especially taking into account he’s got the sun at his back, and shine far too many colors. Though if Nadya’s being honest she probably wouldn’t have noticed if she hadn’t met Garrus and Ivy beforehand.

Quickly Taylor ducks his head and Nadya wonders if she’s hit a nerve or something. He certainly looks red in the face. “Shit — really? My bad… They should go back to normal in an hour or so.”

Because she totally knows what that means? “Uh… okay?”

He jerks his chin back towards the heart of the city. “C’mon, we’re meeting a friend of mine to grab everyone coffee. It’ll be a fun story to pass the time.”

Talkative, isn’t he. And there’s a traitorous part of Nadya that knocks on her head one too many times with a hello, who the heck are you to judge missy but what Taylor doesn’t know won’t hurt him.

It’s admittedly very strange to be telling the story she’s telling with new faces taking in her every word.

“That went about as well as I thought it would,” Katherine announces while reaching over and plucking a bottle from around the other side of the bar, “seems like you were lucky, though, and caught Izzy in a good mood.”

“That’s her good mood?” Nadya can’t help but look skeptical. But judging by the looks she’s met with, Katherine isn’t exaggerating.

“Yeah yeah, de la Rosa’s got a chip on her shoulder, what else is new. What about this Amulet you were talkin’ about; does she have it?”

Taylor scrunches up his face and gives a backhanded smack to the solid chest beside him. It had taken Nadya a second to remember the other Nighthunter but once he greeted her by way of ‘muggle’ it was easy. Apparently Ryder hadn’t been putting on airs when he had shown up to Raines Corp. all devil-may-care and bad-boy. That was just who he was.

Not that she doesn’t recognize the somewhat melted look in his eyes when he pretends to be wounded — she’s seen it well enough when Maricruz thinks Lily isn’t looking. “Rook’, you gotta stop beatin’ on me in front of company.”

The man beside Nadya blows a mousy brown curl from his eyes with a laugh. “Feel free to ask one of us to do it.”

“No one asked you, Cujo.”

Katherine rolls her eyes. “Tell me I don’t have to apologize for them?”

Nadya just laughs and shakes her head. It’s been easier than she expected to feel comfortable around Taylor and his friends. They’re just weird enough to be funny. And, admittedly, she’s kinda enjoying not being the odd one out for once.

Too bad Nadya’s natural sense of worry doesn’t allow her to enjoy peace for long. “No — Isadora doesn’t have the Amulet anymore. She had to give it up to pay off some of her father’s debts, I guess?”

Ryder grunts. “Yeah, to th’Smoke.”

“And ‘the Smoke’ is a person?”

“Well… yes and no.”

All eyes turn to Vera, the friend of Taylor’s they had met up with on their coffee run. It’s still a bit weird for Nadya to constantly be pulling her shirt away from the back of her neck from sweat and see someone in full-length silk gloves — but since no one else is going to comment on it Nadya has a feeling doing so would be rude.

Vera is already hard at work pouring over ledgers of some kind; Nadya recognizes those kinds of spreadsheets from work. She carefully balances one black binder each on her knees. “I brought everything dated from last March. There’s just a lot to get through. But if you’re sure Isadora’s telling the truth I should be able to find it pretty easily.”

She looks up and offers Nadya a warm smile. “Don’t you worry, we’ll get it and have you an’ your friends back up to New York in no time.”

“Thank you,” and she looks around as she says it, “all of you, really.  I don’t think I can say it enough.”

Though if the looks she gets are any indication… she might have already.

Unfortunately ‘pretty easily’ turns into one hour, then two, then Taylor is shaking Nadya’s shoulder gently out of a doze with a bemused little smile.

“Maybe you should get some rest? The research part isn’t the most interesting.”

“No, no I’m okay.”

“Then take another coffee run with me. I have to swing by work anyway… stretching your legs might help.”

His borderline-overly friendly attitude makes a bit of sense when one takes into account the weirdness of their mutual situations. On their way back from Flechette, Nadya had been hesitant to open up and dig into the nitty-gritty of it no matter how interested Taylor had appeared. But now, with a bit more time on their hands and more than the cliff-notes shared between them, she can’t help but feel relieved that she’s not the only one who feels like they tripped down the proverbial rabbit hole.

“Okay okay, tell me if you get this though,” Nadya pauses to swallow a bite of her pastry, “when there’s, like, a whole pile of crazy going on and everyone is all freaking out and yelling at each other and you just —”

“You just end up standing there because nobody bothered to give you any context?!”

“Yes! It’s so annoying!”

“Not to mention potentially fatal.”

“Oh don’t even get me started on fatal. I’ve never so much as jaywalked before and now I’ve come face to face with…” it takes her a second to both balance her coffee and count on her fingers but she manages, “four vampires, all of them over two thousand years old. All of which who’ve threatened me at some point or another.”

Taylor hisses through his teeth. “Big yikes.”

“That’s an understatement.”

Though she regrets bringing it up not a moment later. Not just because she keeps pushing that inevitable existential crisis down until their work here is done. But also because one of the four is Kamilah, and if she thinks about Kamilah she thinks about how much she misses Kamilah, and if she thinks about how much she misses Kamilah she might actually collapse into tears.

“You really care about her, don’t you?”

The needle scratches on Nadya’s thought-record. When she looks up Taylor has a furrow in his brow and a painfully sympathetic look directed at all of her being. Unsettling doesn’t even cover it.

She’s getting tired of people poking around in her head without her permission.

Though before she can get so much as a word in, Taylor seems to come back to himself. Where he was, Nadya can’t say, but she knows the signs when someone can’t entirely stop themselves from doing something. “Sorry,” he clears his throat awkwardly and won’t look her in the eye, “that was super outta line.”

“Yeah, a bit.” But what’s the use in denying it? “You’re not wrong though.”

“What’s her name?”

“Didn’t read my mind that far?”

Taylor shakes his head. “It’s not really mind-reading so much as… emotion-reading? Or like real-deal empathy, I guess. My father says it’s some unique halfling thing. Fae can share a lot more with each other than humans can, but because I’m not full on Legolas, I only get a part of the package.”

Nadya knows that look. She’s seen it in the mirror enough times.

“One of those bonuses you didn’t ask for.”

“Exactly. Not that it hasn’t come in handy,” he quickly backtracks, “I think it saved our lives back last year. But an instruction manual would’ve been nice — all I’m sayin’.”

Preaching to the choir. “Her name is Kamilah. She’s…” He can tell, though. Does she have to say it aloud?

When Taylor smiles at her it’s a sad thing. No, she doesn’t.

Although when might she have another chance to talk to someone who understands? Because she tried that with Kamilah — and they both know how that went. Not Adrian, or Lily, or even Jax could have even the slightest bit of empathy for what Nadya is going through against her will. And here’s Taylor thrown into her lap with a little bow on top; not only someone who gets what it’s like to be on the outs of all this supernatural crap but also a literal empath.

How can the universe begrudge her for taking advantage of that?

She inhales deep and shaky. “I—we—she and I kinda had a fight right before we left New York. I think it was our first one…”

Nadya remembers reading somewhere that therapy works because telling a stranger your problems is a lot easier than telling your friends; they don’t have any stake in your future, or have sides they need to choose. Well try telling a therapist about the secret group of vampires who run Manhattan, she had thought skeptically. Now, she takes that cynicism back.

While she recounts the events of her fight with Kamilah, Taylor just listens. He nods, and ‘hmms,’ and asks for clarification here and there but it’s more than just proving he’s listening. Nadya tries not to notice but the way his expressions change with her tone and words… he’s feeling everything she is. And boy, does she feel bad for him for it.

They end up walking around in nonsensical circles until finding their way to the only familiar place Nadya knows; Jackson Square. Taylor casually gets them to one of the old wooden benches outside the church. A small four-man jazz band plays off in the shade to a growing semicircle of tourists.

She sips the last dregs of her coffee cold and too-sweet. “I get what she meant and where she was coming from, I do. But I also can’t help but get this feeling like all that I saw in my visions were things she wouldn’t have told me no matter how much I asked… And I know why, obviously, but…”

But there are too many places in her whole explanation that Nadya’s said ‘but’ and even she’s starting to get irritated by it.

“You know,” Taylor swings an arm around the back of the bench, “just because you understand her side of things doesn’t mean your side isn’t just as important. You can fight with someone you care about and have both of you be right and wrong.”

“Then how do we ever stop fighting?”

He laughs dryly. “Oh, fuck if I know. Nik and I get into it constantly about his jobs. He’s always trying to keep me from helping him out but he’s probably more at risk when I’m not around. At least I have magic — even if I suck at using it right now. He’s smart, and strong, and really good at what he does… I just can’t help but worry one day that won’t be enough.

“I think there are a lot of things in Kamilah’s life she regrets; things she thinks will change your opinion of her — that’ll make you hate her or something. And a lot of relationships are like that. There’s just more baggage to sort through with you two.”

Wow, thanks genius. “I won’t hate her though. That’s what I can’t seem to explain right.”

“The best thing you can do is what you’re already doing. Keep explaining it, keep being there, and she’ll realize in her own time what that means.”

Nadya watches him carefully. “Is that what you and Ryder did?”

“Sorta — but we’re working on it.”

It was supposed to be a simple errand run but Nadya can’t shake the feeling there isn’t exactly a search party out for them. She’s not complaining! If the universe is listening she is not complaining. It just makes the return to their very dark, gruesome, and potentially apocalyptic reality all the more difficult. Luckily she’s getting used to dealing with difficult things by now.

When they finally return to the bar business is booming; thank god Taylor gives her a nudge to pick her jaw up off the floor or else she’d probably have offended half of the patrons. Can she really be blamed though? It looks like freakin’ Comic Con in here.

There’s a shrill whistle near the bar at the back and they both catch sight of Cal waving them over. “Everyone’s upstairs!” he has to practically shout over a gaggle of taloned women adorned in feathers, two of them seemingly in heated competition for his attention. “I’d head up but —”

“Oh no you don’t!” Garrus appears over his broad shoulders as if from nowhere. “You’re half the selling point of these sweet swamp shots, Bayou-boy. Sorry my not-so-mortals!”

Taylor and Nadya both watch with equally pitying looks as the fae pushes Cal into the fray. “One day he’s gonna realize I didn’t do him any favors getting him this job,” Taylor mutters close to her ear, and Nadya tries to throw up a sympathetic thumbs-up before they manage to get to the metal staircase and up away from the chaos.

There are way too many people in this apartment. Taylor takes this as an opportunity to literally fall into Ryder’s lap; Ryder is just forced to take it without argument or fight. But Lily has a spot saved right in between her and Adrian which Nadya takes all too eagerly.

“Girl, look at you,” Lily pinches her cheek, “you finally got some sun! Now lemme soak some of it up.”

While one vampire clings to her arm, though, the other is quite pointedly keeping his distance. Nadya turns and gives Adrian a cautious look. He smiles, she would expect nothing less, but the strain shows in little crinkles at his eyes that definitely weren’t there before.

Wordlessly she rests her head against his arm. Adrian tenses — she doesn’t take it personally — but relaxes in the same breath. Rests his hand on her knee in a silent thanks.

Movement draws Nadya’s attention to a small kitchen island where Katherine balances herself on a stool, and where Cadence stands beside her with his arms crossed tightly over his chest.

“Hey Cade,” she gives him a little wave, “feeling better?”

The vampire looks at her… and that’s it. There’s still a bit of frenzied confusion in his eyes. Confused, she shifts her attention to Katherine — the huntress just shakes her head.

“Oh good, y’all are back.” Vera walks in from the adjacent room and offers a weary little smile. “Good news is we found the Amulet, and its still in New Orleans.”

But what sentence ever started with good news that didn’t include…

“And the bad news?” asks Taylor; his tone a tad too defeatist for Nadya’s liking.

Ryder growls. “The bad news is I gotta put on a fuckin’ monkey suit.”

The actual bad news is that the Amulet of Nero was put up for auction by the former Lady Smoke. And apparently no amount of money will convince the auctioneers to take it off the docket. “Trust me, Kamilah and I pooled together a substantial sum,” Adrian sighs, “and they didn’t even flinch.”

Vera nods. “If anything that only encouraged them further. Goblins are awful little sneaks but whatever business they sink their claws into is their reputation; they’ll live and die by it. In trying to buy out the Amulet you’ve shown something that could have easily been written off has the potential to get them a lot of money.”

Goblins — she said goblins. Okay. That’s a thing we’re accepting now. “So we need this thing to keep the world from ending and… we have to buy it?” In what world is that fair?

“Isadora has agreed to put her Family’s wealth behind our bid,” Adrian explains, “which should be more than enough for us to ensure we aren’t outbid. And this way we don’t attract Gaius’ attention by riling up the supernatural community. The less enemies we make, the better.”

He knows the question on the tip of her tongue. Nadya knows it, Lily knows it too. But she won’t ask it because their lucky streak has so far not been entirely consistent.

What if they already have Gaius’ attention?

They’ll burn that bridge when they get to it.

BEEP.

“Hey Kamilah, it’s me… again. Sorry, I let the last three messages go too long and I’m not really sure if they still send when that happens? So… here I am.”

Nadya looks down at her bracelet and sighs. She nearly loses her balance — heels and gravel walkways don’t mix well together — but manages not to sound like a total loser on the call. “At risk of this becoming the fourth mistake, uh, I’ll be quick. Adrian said he kept you up to date with what’s going on down here, so this isn’t... About that… I just wanted to say hi, and I hope you’re doing well, and… and let you know that I miss you.

“If I had a choice I wouldn’t have left things like we did. I think we both know that. And the second I’m back in New York I want to try and work this out. For… for us, y’know? And I think you do, too.” She sniffles. “You still have your read receipts on for texts. Anyway, gotta get going. Wish me—us—luck!”

She hangs up there because even for Nadya there’s only so many times she can make herself look stupid until she makes the turn from charming and quirky to downright annoying.

Four is probably pushing it.

She wobbles her way back to the others smiling a little too wide, but thankfully no one comments on it. Vera offers her a clunky gold ring but the second Nadya slips it onto her finger it seems to fit like it was sized and all. “Magic ring?”

“Magic ring.” Lily nods, delighted to be agreeing.

“Too bad Cal couldn’t come with this time,” Taylor elbows Ryder’s side gently, “he deserves the chance to not have to sneak through the kitchens.”

Ryder, however, doesn’t seem to share the sentiment. “I feel like a damn sellout,” grumbles the hunter as he adjusts the cuffs of his borrowed suit. Adrian raises an eyebrow his way. His suit is the one being borrowed, after all. “I said what I said.”

“Yeah, nobody cares.”

Katherine tugs up the top of her dress and brushes her hair away from her shoulder. “We get in, we bid, we get the Amulet and get out. Any more time wasted and someone, somewhere is gonna recognize someone and nobody wants that.”

She rounds on Nadya and Lily both. “Don’t go anywhere on your own, don’t talk to anyone especially the people who are nice to you, and I’ll tell you right now that none of these snakes can make your wishes come true.”

They don’t know whether to take her seriously or not. Lily’s laugh is a few shades shy of offended. “I think I know how to have fun.”

“This isn’t fun, baby fangs, it’s Persephone. The last time we were here Cade —” she jerks her thumb to the vampire; who quickly snaps out of his own little world and blinks in confusion, “— ended up nearly getting gored by a Minotaur in illegal cage fighting; a fight that was supposed to be carried by Cal’s prepubescent Teen Wolf baby brother.

“Everyone through those doors has been playing the game of money and power for decades, some for centuries. They know there are worse things to lose than your life.”

Nadya pulls Lily tighter and links their arms. “Read you loud and clear.”

Unfortunately threatening-if-considerate speeches aside, the likelihood that they’re going to be the reason something goes wrong is… statistically pretty high.

At least they do the noble thing and own it.

“Everybody ready?” Vera looks around, checks for rings, and smooths down the front of her dress. “Then in we go.”

Lily snickers in her ear as they all join the line to enter Persephone. “I’m having middle school field trip flashbacks.” She whispers, and pulls back to Nadya’s equally amused grin.

To say the inside of Persephone is beautiful is definitely an understatement; but it’ll have to do while Nadya tries to catch her jaw as it hits the floor and starts running. She thought Marcel’s castle was beautiful? It still is — but it was so obviously an antique; a relic from a bygone era. This is different. This is a kind of beauty not taken from one place or thing. It’s everyone; all the infinite colors and shapes and species of people that mill around her.

It’s kind of a shame that she’s come to associate beautiful things with how close to being threatened or killed she’ll soon be. It kind of dulls the spark of the place.

Nadya and Lily both crane their heads up, up, four floors up to the swooping ceilings above and their glittering chandeliers — which Nadya has an inkling aren’t made of glass at all but real magical energy in bright playful lights. All around the edges of the landings people gather, leaning and chatting and drinking in that uppity way people with money do. Like even all of this splendor bores them; everything meaning nothing.

A hand falls on her shoulder and Nadya has to stifle her yelp — unlike the first time Taylor startled her she now feels comfortable with reaching out and smacking his arm. “Stop giving me heart attacks!”

Judging by the bright and definitely inhuman glint in his eyes he definitely did it on purpose.

“It’s all kinda epic, huh?”

“Kind of?” Lily scoffs dramatically. “This is the single most epic place in the entire universe!”

Ryder passes them all and rolls his eyes. “You should see Toronto.”

But this time, all overzealous Lilyisms aside, Nadya has to admit she agrees. “It’s… a lot. More than I ever thought I’d see…” And she’s been seeing quite a lot these days.

“Come around next year for Mardi Gras, ‘cause this is nothing.”

At first Nadya doesn’t recognize the woman without the sheer veil over her features, but when Lily and Adrian don’t ask why a stranger is leading them up one of the swooping twin staircases she realizes Isadora’s sent one of her daughters to collect them.

Tony and an unfamiliar vampire stand guard on either side of a circular booth and table that looks like it was made for the de la Rosa Matriarch alone — sleek black stone polished so pristine Nadya catches the woman’s reflection before actually looking up at her face.

Adrian steps aside and allows Nadya to slide into a seat first. Isadora seems to barely notice them. Instead her attention is focused solely on a large piece of curling parchment that — nope, that’s not a trick of the light — the ink is actually moving like an invisible quill is scratching notes right in front of her face.

“Is that the registry?” Adrian asks, and Isadora slides it to him with a furrowed brow.

“Indeed. Word must have been leaked out by a few of their underground sources. The preemptive bids on the Amulet are starting to climb.” The vampire looks to Vera as she speaks. “Whatever has the new Lady Smoke interested enough to show her face around our nefarious sort is worth quite a hefty amount.”

Taylor squeezes Vera’s shoulder — it isn’t until he tenses that Nadya realizes he’s holding the gloved woman back.

“I’m here to help my friends,” she growls out in reply.

Isadora doesn’t look amused. “Try telling that to New Orleans’ elite.”

She’s been under the impression everyone was sticking together, but it seems the fancy-pants de la Rosa booth is for vampires (and human guests) only. But Taylor and Vera leave shortly after to where she spots Ryder cradling his flask like a security blanket in a far less fancy booth on the other side of the main floor.

Silently Isadora moves the barest inch; just enough space to fit both Cadence and Katherine on her side. Instead he clears his throat and volunteers to grab the drinks, and nearly runs into a pair of waiters in his haste to not be there.

Adrian rolls up the magic scroll and puts it aside. “How long until the first lot comes out?”

“It will be showcased at the hour,” Isadora raises a limp wrist with a black card in hand, “which won’t be long from now. Are you prepared for a bidding war? I do hope you brought a second suit.”

A stunningly beautiful fae approaches with a small wooden box. They unfasten the lid and allow the vampiress to slide the card in, offer up a “thank you for your contribution,” and go off in search of the next card to accept.

But second suit? Doesn’t that get Nadya’s attention. “Why would he need a second suit,” but why is she asking Isadora when Adrian is right there, “why would you need a second suit?”

He shifts in his seat uncomfortably. “From what I’ve been told, bidding wars here… are a little messy.”

The vampiress snorts softly. “Money is valuable, but this is New Orleans. If you made it as far as the interior of Persephone you ought to have more to offer than wealth. Bidding wars can involve anything from shows of strength to tests of skill and intelligence. Two centaurs had a proper race on the lawn once.”

The more words she says the less certain Nadya feels. It leaves her tangled up inside and actually holding her stomach with a groan.

“Please tell me you’re gonna offer up your business acumen.” And she actually physically can’t look at his apologetic face so Lily goes above and beyond and pushes it away and out of sight.

“That’s why we needed as much for our initial bid as possible.” Adrian tries his best to console her. “It’ll be fine. I’m sure it won’t even come to something that drastic.”

“I thought I told you to stay the hell away from me!”

She’s a tiny human and Adrian is a hundreds-of-years-old vampire, so he probably doesn’t find her shaking both fists at him to be a scary thing. But it makes her feel better and that’s all Nadya cares about. Well, that and the look of confusion-meets-panic Katherine throws her way.

“Was that —?”

“Scooch scooch scooch please and thank you!” Nadya forces the vampires to let her out and follows the Nighthunter as she rushes to the railing to try and find Cadence in the crowd below.

“Something’s upset you, I just want to help.”

“Being stalked is pretty damn upsetting.”

Thank god the railing is there to catch her because Nadya’s breath is knocked from her lungs. Adrian and Lily are at her sides in an instant and thank god for them, too, because they look just as shocked and that means she isn’t imagining things. She isn’t imagining that voice.

Katherine comes up alongside them, her grip white-knuckled and harsh against the ornately twisted metal bar.

Down below there’s a bar in the middle of the floor on a slowly rotating dais. Some of Persephone’s patrons skirt away from the display before it turns into a fight — and it looks like that won’t take more than a wrong word or touch. But most of them are greedy for more than money, hungry for more than fine wine and foods. They want blood; that’s why they’re here.

Cadence smacks Valdas’ hand away before the man can reach for him. He looks wild like a startled animal; backed up against the bar top and looking frantically for a means of escape.

“You’ve repeatedly ignored my requests not to come to my workplace, you send me flowers I don’t want and cannot refuse, and now you — you show up here, of all places?”

Valdas watches him with an uncharacteristic distress. “Cadence, you’re upset. You aren’t thinking clearly.”

“I’m thinking clearer than I have in years.”

The vampire practically spits the words through his clenched teeth. But that doesn’t make them any less strange in nature.

Valdas steps back. “And what, pray tell, has brought that on?”

In that moment Cadence’s frantic eyes find Katherine up above; his relief is visible even from a distance. Unfortunately the Trinity vampire is so close it can’t be denied. Has him turning to find the thing that managed what he could not in calming the other man in his fear—rage—mania.

He recognizes Katherine slowly then all at once; sweeping his eyes over the onlookers until they land on Nadya.

“Adrian,” she reaches blindly back behind her; feels his hand close tight and steadfast around hers, “I really hope you brought that second suit.”

[marshmalleaux-draws]

I never did post my self insert for My Hero Academia, did I? I was hoping to draw up a more complete and proper reference for her, but given that my mental and physical battery have been at about -37549% for the past 4 months or so, this is all I could manage to do. Still love to share as always, though~.

All her info under the cut (copied from a google doc I wrote not too long ago), cause I hate cluttering up people’s dash with super long posts.

Anyway, I hope you like her~ . ❄️

Name: Sierra Niall Nickname/s: Cici Hero name (?): Snowflake Quirk: Winter Warping Age: 23 Birthday: February 13 Zodiac Sign: Aquarius Blood type: ??? Height: 5'1" Weight: 118 lbs Likes: Marshmallows, lavender (the color, flower, and scent) Quirk and Abilities: Cici's quirk, Winter Warping, allows her to manipulate various aspects of winter, including ice, snow, and the temperature of the air around her. She mostly chooses to use her abilities defensively and for support rather than attack, but she does have a few offensive capabilities as well. Different ways she can use her quirk include: ❄️ Encasing herself in ice as a protective barrier, but this renders her immobile until the ice is broken, either by herself or by someone else. The ice can be close enough just to cover her body, or she can create a large block around her. ❄️ Coating certain parts of her body in ice, such as her hands or feet, so that when she punches or kicks, her attacks are reinforced. ❄️ Summoning spikes of ice to emerge from the ground, either as a barrier or an attack. ❄️ Creating snowflake shuriken (though this one often goes unused). ❄️ Healing open wounds (but not broken bones or internal injuries) using snow. She can do things like use her ice to keep a broken arm from moving, but she can't actually heal such an injury herself, just keep it under control until professional help is available. ❄️ Creating a heavy snowstorm in her immediate vicinity in order to cloak herself. She can see things outside the storm from within, but it's hard for others to see her in the blizzard. ❄️ Creating cushions of snow to break falls. ❄️ Crumbling solid ice into snow, and reforming snow into solid ice.

Drawbacks: ❄️ Since her quirk revolves around the cold, she is especially heat-sensitive. The hotter the air around her, the sleepier she becomes and the more brittle her ice becomes. Environments that are hot enough can cause her to fall asleep pretty much immediately, leaving her completely vulnerable. She also can’t use her own quirk to keep herself cool in those situations. ❄️ The strength of her abilities is tied to her emotions. Feelings of helplessness, sadness, fear, anxiety and the like cause her ice to become brittle, her snow less dense, and her healing less effective. Conversely, intense feelings of passion, contempt, determination and the like can strengthen her ice to near-unbreakable levels, and her healing far quicker and more effective.

Background: Cici has always been a girl of a kind, caring, and empathetic (albeit rather naive) disposition. She's intent on the idea of making sure all the people she meets are happy and safe, if it's within her power. Seeing others prosper is all she needs to feel content, and it goes to such an extent that she often fails to look out for herself. Even with her good intentions, however, she is plagued with severe anxiety and insecurity, which often keeps her from achieving many of the things she wants. In an attempt to combat this insecurity and fear, she enrolls in UA's hero course at the beginning of her high school years, hoping that being shoved outside her comfort zone will push her into being the best and most confident person she can be. While she's there, she meets and befriends Shouta Aizawa, who admires her willingness to push herself to be better. He still knows of her generally soft and sweet personality, and likes to tease her with the affectionate nickname "Snowflake." She takes a liking to him due to his constant (although not always immediately apparent) hardworking attitude, as well as his ability to be both blunt and honest, and understanding and gentle when needed. Unfortunately, not even a year in, her fear catches up to her, and she becomes overwhelmed by the sheer amount of conviction needed to be a hero that she clearly doesn't possess, even though she desperately wants to. Her insecurities get the better of her and, ashamed, she decides to drop out, opting to finish her high school education at a normal public school. She can't even bring herself to explain to Aizawa why she was leaving, and distances herself from him in fear of disappointing him. Years pass, and Cici has found herself a best friend (and later, roommate), Alia, who has done some hero work herself and also had went through UA’s hero course as a transfer student. Cici still isn't terribly confident in herself, but she still is happy to assist Alia in her work, opting to give herself an unofficial hero name as well - the name that her old friend gave her all those years ago, Snowflake. Cici and Alia learn of a reunion being held at their old school and decide to attend, and Cici is surprised to see Aizawa again. He immediately recognizes her, and his first thought after greeting her is to ask why she had disappeared all those years ago. Embarrassed, Cici confesses that she basically chickened out of the hero course, feeling that her own fear and lack of confidence far outweighed her ability to be a half-decent hero. After that, she felt so ashamed and afraid to disappoint Aizawa's expectations of her that she ceased contact with altogether. Aizawa is surprised, saying that she had just as much of a chance to do great things as anyone else, and reminds her of how he admired her desire to push herself to be better, just so she could help others be happy. Although still nervous, she's flattered and elated that he still thinks so highly of her, even though she didn't think enough of herself. It's a bittersweet reunion, but it doesn't end there - they start to reconnect, and in no time they're even closer than they were all those years ago. The two even decided to begin a romantic relationship and have been perfectly content since. These days, Cici still isn't confident enough in her own abilities to be a full-fledged hero, but she's found a happy middle ground of helping people the best way she feels she can - she decides to become a counselor for UA students, helping everyone that comes into her office with whatever troubles and concerns they may have. Her gentle and empathetic personality makes her easy to talk to for many of the students that come to see her, and nearly all of them leave feeling relieved and happy, which is all she wanted in the first place. Stats: Strength: 2/5 Speed: 2/5 Intelligence: 4/5 Technique: 3/5 Cooperativeness: 5/5 Trivia: ❄️ In the present day, she has become somewhat of an aunt to Shouto, since she's been best friends with his mother (in this AU), Alia, for many years. He's always happy to see his auntie and sometimes comes into her office just to take a breather from everyone.

❄��� She absolutely can not get enough of Deku. She would readily adopt him as her son if he didn't already have a pure and loving mother, and she spoils him and treats him better than probably any other student (aside from Shouto). More importantly, however, she actually looks up to him and is even jealous of him, because he's been able to do something that she's failed to do all of these years - he's constantly pushing himself further and further to be a better person and hero, no matter how scared or helpless he feels - and she has an immense amount of admiration and respect for him.

❄️ She understands why people see the potential in Bakugou, but she feels everyone beats around the bush too much and just wishes they would say it for what it is: yes, he's skilled, talented, and powerful, but he's an angry and insufferable prick who won't listen to anyone, ever, and that's pretty much the only thing keeping him from really being a great hero. She dreads seeing him come to her office for any reason whatsoever because he is just that incorrigible, and she enjoys getting back at him in subtle ways for being so pissy all the time (making the room colder when he visits, giving him a largely uncomfortable chair to sit on, etc.)

❄️ She has Tourette’s Syndrome (bc of course I gotta fucking shoehorn this in therekdhsjfk), albeit a rather mild case. Still, she worries that it might interfere with her quirk, since her insecurity and awareness of possible onlookers would certainly weaken the strength of her ice. She also worries that she’ll get mocked by the students or even other staff members (and sometimes is by a certain pissed off explosion boy), but that worry is generally subsided when the sweeter kids like Shouto and Deku are 100% understanding of it.

❄️ Sierra, similar her friend Alia, was an American exchange student. She moved to Japan for the express purpose of enrolling in UA, mixing her goals of heroism with her adoration for the culture and lifestyle of the country. Even after she dropped out, she still enjoyed her time there so much that she opted to continue living there and made it easier on herself by getting a place together with her friend.

❄️ She still goes by her English name, but I also wanted to stick with the theme of punny/fitting names for characters, so I gave her a Japanese alias as well: Seppen Shijinko. Her first name 雪片 (seppen) means “snowflake,” and her last name 詩人子 (shijin-ko) means “child of a poet.” ...Okay, really only the first name is punny/fitting, but her last name is one that I’ve been using for a long time that not only has its own background/story, but also ties in with her English surname (Niall), so that would take way too much explanation sdfgfdh.

[elliotlikespuke]

Plz post them!!

why can I never just post a short thing. why can I never just say “hey wouldn’t it be cool if [this thing] could happen”?

knee injury (I just learned that a paramedic and emt are not the same thing??? So pretend this says paramedic and not emt) -I’m so torn, because I don’t want him to have to take time off from competing, but every athlete will at some point -at some point during a gp series, yuri dislocates his knee -he’s been a skater for a long time, and he knows how to take a fall, and therefore its so so stupid that he managed to slam his kneecap into the ice at an awkward angle -it had happened before, sure, usually leading to some swelling and an intense bruise. it had also happened on his hips, ankles, elbows, you name it -this time though, the pain cuts through him before he’s aware of anything else, and suddenly he feels like he’s going to be sick all over the ice, or pass out, or both -he can’t even cry, he can barely make a sound the pain is so extreme -since the rink he skates at is always full of skaters, someone helps him off the ice and onto a bench before he dies, since it looks like he might do that from the shock -an ambulance is called immediately, because in the leggings he wears you can clearly see his right kneecap is well off from where it’s meant to be -he can barely get words out, but when yakov makes a move for his knee, ready to poke around it to assess the damage, yuri all but squeaks at him not to -he doesn’t want to look down at his leg, and is almost certain that if he does, he’ll puke -he doesn’t know why yakov asks him to straighten it, it’s clearly dislocated, what good could that possibly do, but he tries, and that’s when he starts crying -theres no warning, no possibility of holding back any tears, one minute his eyes are dry and the next his cheeks are wet with big fat tears -from what we saw at the 2016 gpf, he’s not a pretty crier, nor is he a quiet one -injuries aren’t uncommon in the rink, but injuries to this degree definitely are, and everyone collectively comes to a standstill -yakov stays beside him, handing him tissues to press his face into since he hates letting people see him cry -yakov keeps talking to him, telling him the ambulance will be there soon and to just keep holding on, but yuri still feels like he’s going to pass out -yakov feels a responsibility to his students to go with them when they are injured, and this is exactly what he does -he dismisses the rest of his students for the day, understanding that viktor, yuuri, mila, and georgi will likely meet him at the hospital -the ambulance finally arrives, and yuri’s troubles had only just begun. -the first thing they did was brace his leg. one emt grabbed yuri’s leg, above and below the knee, and he cried out. touching any part of his leg was absolutely torturous, sending pain through his whole body, and making his vision go white -the other tapped his foot, asking him to move it. he did, against his will and his better judgement, letting himself explode in pain again. the second emt began to press his toes, making sure he still had feeling -fuck, he had feeling. he had way too much feeling -once the board and bandages came out, his stomach gave up the fight. it was either puke or pass out, and he wished so dearly he could pass out -he barely got the words “m gonna puke” out of his mouth before he was heaving. a bag was pushed under his chin to catch what they could. -“alright,” one of the emts said “when we get you in the ambulance, we’ll get you some medication and have you feeling a lot better” -viktor and yuuri had floated over, after rushing to change from skates to street shoes. yuri couldn’t be assed to pay attention to them -the emts counted down, and lifted him from the bench to the stretcher, and walked him to the ambulance with yakov following behind, carrying a bag of puke -once he was in the ambulance, everything got a lot easier. the man in the back with him and yakov gave him a needle to the arm, full of heavy pain medication, and very quickly he felt much better -“how do you feel, yura?” “better. tired.” -the medication definitely helped. he felt a bit floaty, a bit tired. -“how do you feel, yakov?” “i’m fine, yura”

heat exhaustion -japan, especially a southern town like hasetsu, got much, much hotter than st petersburg -visiting japan in the off season had become one of yuri’s favourite things since his first time, and having otabek there made everything so much more fun -the only thing he didn’t count on was that otabek loved the heat, arguably more than he should. he must be used to it, yuri supposed, because almaty was just as hot, albeit less humid -yuri felt like he was suffocating. he’d never been very good at thermoregulation, given his stature and lack of body fat, and blood the consistency of rabbit piss, apparently -runs every morning, usually followed by skating or ballet, which otabek skipped in favour of something more suited to him -today, however, the sun was out, the weather was “beautiful” (according to otabek) and they were on vacation, so after their morning run otabek decided he wanted to go shopping -it was somewhat of a tradition ever since barcelona, to shop together around whichever city they found themselves in. yuri, ever impulsive, usually ended up buying more than otabek -he’d noticed it first on the run with otabek, and then again about an hour into shopping. his thigh muscles would cramp for a few minutes, almost halting him in his tracks, or forcing him to the ground. -the next thing he noticed was a faint sense of dizziness. he went through a mental checklist. he’d eaten breakfast, had water before and after his run... -otabek noticed something was off fairly soon after. -“can you blame me? i'm fucking boiling. i feel like a lobster.”“you're starting to look like a lobster. did you put sunscreen on?” -otabek pulled his bag off his shoulder, and offered him a water bottle. yuri accepted it gratefully, the liquid inside the metal bottle somehow not boiling from the heat of the sun. he only took a few sips before handing it back to otabek. it was making his stomach twist -otabek raised his eyebrows but said nothing other than “do you want to head back?” and yuri nodded, not having bought a thing in his sour mood -the walk back was harder. they’d walked further than he thought from the katsuki’s inn, and his stomach was really starting to turn. everything in it felt undigested and heavy, and he was forced to stifle burps into his hand to relieve the pressure -he started salivating. weird, because he could have sworn any liquid in him had been sweat out of his pores. he desperately gulped it back, so glad otabek wasn’t much of a talker, but wishing he wasn’t either, so the lack of conversation wouldn’t be so noticeable -“fuck,” yuri said “this is disgusting”otabek hummed a question“it’s so fucking hot.” -walking into an air conditioned room somehow broke him, and he made a beeline for the nearest bathroom, ignoring the dizziness and confused looks from the few people in the lobby -he collapsed in front of the toilet, his whole body shaking with the desire to vomit, and the desire to do absolutely anything but that -what he desired was irrelevant, because soon enough he was spewing into the toilet, a torrent of near-projectile strength, the meagre water he’d taken from otabek, all the food from breakfast and a good deal of stomach acid -he heard a door and felt his long hair being gathered up, but couldn’t turn much given the almost constant retching -he’s just wondering to himself how on earth someone his size could possibly hold so much vomit when the retching begins to taper off -“do you have a headache?” yuri thinks its a strange first question to ask someone who’s just vomited so roughly there are tears streaming down his face, but he answers “no, i’m just so dizzy.” -otabek’s hand is still fisted in his hair, rather roughly, but yuri supposes he’s glad, because his shoulder-length hair would definitely have gotten dirty -“and you’re still sweating, that’s good.” yuri’s about to reply that it’s nearly forty degrees and humid, of course he’s fucking sweating, when otabek says “that means it’s not heatstroke at least.” -they spend the better part of an hour camped on the bathroom floor together, yuri occasionally heaving, and otabek holding an ice pack against the back of his neck

allergies and nosebleeds -you know what else hasetsu has a lot more of than st petersburg? ragweed. the plant that torments yuri the most -it’s no wonder he picked a winter sport when just a few minutes outside in the summer will give him sneezing fits, leaving his nose and eyes watering, and his mouth itching -allergy medicines are always trial and error too, some years they work and some years they don’t, and this year they definitely don’t -yuuri and his family have become so familiar with the phrase “but’ zdarov’” that they’ve started using it themselves -for what it’s worth, otabek thinks his sneezes are adorable, especially when they’re directed into his sweater paws. -yuri usually doesn’t stifle, since he tries not to do anything by half, but in the crowded restaurant at the katsuki inn, he doesn’t have much of a choice -his nose is still tingling from being outdoors that day, and no amount of nose blowing, showering, or steam from the hot springs will clear it -he directs his stifles into his fist mostly, lacking tissues with him and enjoying his meal with otabek too much to get up and grab them -otabek is telling him a story when suddenly he stops, looks intently under yuri’s nose, and says “I think your nose is bleeding” -yuri swears and swipes at his nose with the back of his hand. otabek is right, a thin trickle of blood is starting to flow from his abused nose. he swears again and grabs one of the hot (now cold) towels from the beginning of their meal and bring it to his nose -luckily it’s black, but he’s not sure if the restaurant will be able to reuse it after this. it’s still better than bleeding all over himself and his meal -otabek will joke later that it was he who gave yuri a nosebleed, because yuri finds him just so irresistible

[writingsofadream]

Chapter Five | It’s Getting Hotter 

Pairing : Jungkook x Reader 

Story : You knew being an intern at BigHit wouldn’t be easy, but you’d never imagined Jungkook would make it even harder.

You are a new intern at Big Hit, and you get to meet the boys. Set in the real world (as opposed to an AU), and just before the Love Yourself: Tear comeback. 2.1k words in this chapter. 

|||||||||| 5 ||||||||||

Sitting in the plush of her excessively fluffy carpet, you help Suwoo finish off the last screw of her damn Ikea table. Between the two of you, it had taken almost a whole hour. Snacking and laughing in between, it was no wonder you’d been able to finish it at all.

“I just can’t believe you heard him TALK. You breathed the same air as MY Jimin! That’s so crazy to me…” Suwoo shakes her head in disbelief as she says this, a little jealous but mainly just amazed. “You’re sure there’s no way you could sneak me in?” She cocks her head naughtily.

“Fuck no. I actually wanna keep this internship to its end. And it was hard enough for me to get in, let alone sneak a whole other person in.” Your smile is tightlipped as you think about what you’re risking tonight.

“Urgh, that is super no fun. Can you at least mention me to him? Her eyes are sparkling with ambition.

“I told you, I haven’t seen any of them since that first day. They’re very elusive.” Well, that wasn’t quite true. But you sure as hell couldn’t tell Suwoo otherwise. Suddenly, your phone gives a slight buzz from the newly constructed, slightly ugly Ikea table.

12:03pm What are you up to? Are you still coming tonight?

You pull your phone closer to you as Suwoo inspects some of the questionable screws, tightening them once more just in case.

12:04pm I’m helping my friend build an Ikea table. Well, we just finished. What are you doing? 

Pressing send, you then added another message as an afterthought.

12:04pm Yea, I think I’m still coming tonight. Not if you bug me about it though!

“Who are you messaging?” Suwoo’s question brings your head up from your phone, and you turn the screen off hastily.

“No one. Just my brother.” The lie is clumsy and rushed, but she seems to accept it anyway.

“Ohhhhh,” she replies as she nods her head knowingly. “How is he? Has he finally proposed to that dutiful girlfriend of his?”

You respond with a smile, since this is a long debated topic between you two. At 28, he should definitely be proposing sometime soon, especially since they’d been together for ten long years. And yet, for some reason that completely eluded you both, he just hadn’t popped the question yet.

“Not yet. But hopefully any day now. She’ll definitely be relieved when it happens!”

Ding. Your phone.

12:06pm Okay, okay. I’m in dance practice right now. I’d show you some moves, but they’re actually top secret kekekekeke

You considered replying, but the nagging voice at the back of your head told you not to. What if Jungkook’s messages were seen by someone else? One or two might be semi-explainable, but 50 or so? No way. The more you talked, the more dangerous it was. And besides, you were risking enough by agreeing to go and see him tonight. So no, you weren’t going to reply. At least, not yet.

You and Suwoo set the kitchen back up, now with the Ikea table taking centre stage. You both agreed that it wasn’t actually THAT bad, and it was good enough for the moment. You moved around around a few different pieces, including some pretty heavy pieces. Collapsing onto the couch, Suwoo pulled out a block of chocolate for you both to share and some lemonade. After scrolling through Netflix for a minute or so, your suggestion of the anime movie Your Name won, and the opening credits started up.

Cracking open her can of lemonade, Suwoo turns to you. “So, have you thought about going on that date yet or no?”

Suwoo has been trying desperately to have you go on a date with her little brother. He was also 19, and nice enough, but you really didn’t have any kind of spark. He seemed to feel the same way, but Suwoo was intent on having you both try out at least one date.

“No! I told you, we don’t match. He’s nice, but he’s nice as a friend and nothing more. Stop pushing it!” You say the last line loudly, giving her a joking death stare.

Grabbing the pillow next to her, Suwoo gives you a gentle thump with it. “Oh come on! You two would totally be cute together if you actually went somewhere and had fun! Just once, that’s all I’m asking!”

At your refusal, she simply thumps you again with her weaponised pillow, this time harder than the first. “You’re so annoying! Say yes, or I’ll keep thumping you!”

Realising your supposed best friend will cause you bruising if you continue your resistance, you decided the path of least resistance is probably for the best. Sighing, you give your resignation.

“Fine. We’ll go out to a club together.”

Her squeal is audible, and she happily jumps back now, pillow now sitting harmlessly back at her side. “Perfect. I knew you’d cave eventually!” A cheeky wink follows this, and she sips her lemonade victoriously.

Rolling your eyes, you feel yourself smile despite the arrangement. Suwoo was unlike anyone else you knew; she was funny and silly, and didn’t take anything seriously. Being around her was never boring, and no matter what the outcomes, you never felt hard done by any of her ‘evil genius’ plans.

The soft buzz of your phone from your lap takes your attention from your thoughts down to the screen, where the message stares back up at you.

1:10pm What do you want to eat tonight?

You typed out the words ‘just ramen will be good with me’, but then had more second thoughts. Fuck. You should spend as little time there as possible.

1:11pm I’ll eat before I come.

You sounded so mean. It wasn’t your intention, and guilt bubbles up in your stomach. Suppressing it, you remind yourself of all the reasons you couldn’t be yourself around him or when talking to him. For starters, the whole situation shouldn’t even be real. The familiar ‘fuck’ floats across your thought process, the word summarising your feelings about it all. What a potential mess. But god, he was so..everything.

The ding of your phone signifies his reply, and for some reason your heart tightens at the blunt, two letter response.

1:13pm Ok.

Was he upset? You started thinking of what you could possibly respond, wanting to make things better even though you shouldn’t. Suwoo’s slap to your leg jolts you back, pulling you out of your confusing emotions.

“Are you gonna watch this fucking thing or not? It was your choice babe, and I’m sure your brother can wait!” Her look is justifiably annoyed, so you instantly turn the screen off and slip the phone into your purse, where it can’t disturb you any further.

“Okay, I’m back.” You visibly roll your eyes at her again, and she mockingly does it back to you. The two of you explode with laughter, and after some more joking around you both settle back, snacking away and enjoying the rest of the movie.

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

Finally, you arrived back at your apartment. Checking your watch after closing the door behind you, it showed you 4:13. You hadn’t realised you’d stayed so late, but at least the two of you had finished what you’d gone for and had a much-needed catch up. Pulling your phone out, you checked it for any waiting messages.

1:47pm I’ll buy some snacks in case you’re still hungry.

2:51pm If you’re ignoring me that’s pretty mean.

4:03pm Are you still coming? Let me know.

Fuck, you’d totally forgotten about replying. However, tonight’s plans had been constantly popping into your mind. Throughout the movie, every semi-romantic moment made you think of him, and during the train ride home going to Jungkook’s tonight had been all you’d thought about.

Your reply was short, but decidedly sweeter than the others.

4:15pm Yes, I’m still coming. Sorry for taking so long.

His reply was almost instantaneous, buzzing on your marble tabletop.

4:15pm Were you busy, Y/N?

You decided to reply honestly. It wouldn’t hurt to tell him about your day, surely.

4:16pm Yea, I was. We sat down and watched a movie, so I totally forgot to message you back. I only just got home, actually.

You waited for a few minutes, expecting to see typing bubbles pop up or a new message flash onto the screen. After nothing came up, you put the phone down somewhat reluctantly. You liked talking to Jungkook, as much as you didn’t want to admit it. There was undeniably something between you two, and you weren’t sure you liked it. It was…emotional, but also overly sensual. Sexual even. It was like two magnets being drawn to one another.

You plugged your phone into the kitchen charger, and headed for your bedroom. Jungkook had said you could take a taxi there at 5, since the boys were heading out early. You had agreed, since this meant you would most likely be able to leave earlier as opposed to later. Looking over your wardrobe, you found yourself reaching for a little black dress you owned, but rarely wore. It was tight, and showed off your cleavage. It’s thin straps and plunging neckline were attractive, and the length came to you mid-thigh. You were tempted, but shook yourself. What were you doing? This wasn’t a date.

You instead grabbed a light grey overall dress, which complimented your hips rather than your breasts. It looked much more acceptable, and you brushed out your hair to a shine before tugging on some white converse with light pink ankle socks, which frilled at the top. You looked cute, sure, but definitely not sexy. Which was a good think, you supposed. Heading back out to the kitchen, you checked your phone for the time, but the text caught your eye first.

4:30pm I just got home too, and I’m showering first. The boys are all leaving in 10, so you can definitely be here by 5. I’ve told the front desk to let you up, but you’ll have to show ID. And don’t worry Y/N, they’re really professional, no one will find out.

4:31pm I’m really looking forward to seeing you.

Your reply is too flirty for your own good, and you only regret it once it’s sent.

4:32pm Ditto.

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

The taxi dropped you off out the front of Hannam the Hill, one of the most luxurious and expensive apartments in Seoul. In order to even get to the front of the reception, you’d already had to show ID to three different people. After thoroughly checking it and calling multiple different people, they’d finally let your taxi pass through. The whole time you’d been messaging Jungkook, but he hadn’t replied, which had made the whole ordeal harder and more stressful. You had no clue who they’d called or told, but you felt somewhat relieved to have even been let through.

Paying the taxi, they turned and sped back out. You headed into the reception building, which was modern and undeniably expensive. Living somewhere like this would be almost out of a dream, you thought as you approached the woman. You told her you were there for the boys’ apartment, mentioning it by number only. Asking for your ID, you willingly passed it across to her. Smiling, she nodded and buzzed you through, giving you an elevator key.

The elevator was gold and red, exuding money. In your plain dress you felt out of place, and after everything that had happened to get in you felt almost embarrassed. Checking your phone, it buzzed in your hand just as the screen lit up.

4:56pm Shit, I’m sorry! I was showering. Did you make it up okay? Is everything good? Where are you?

The elevator ping sounded, and the doors opened out to a small corridor leading to a front door. Taking a deep breath, you walked up and ran the bell.

The door opened within a few anxious seconds, and a wet-haired and shirtless Jungkook answered the door. A towel tied around his waist, his abs were within your reach, glistening and defined. His muscles are…unbelievable. Jerking your eyes up to his equally handsome face, his eyes are amused and his smile cocked to the side.

“Like what you see?” His voice is teasing, and hot blush spreads across your cheeks. Indignant, you snap back a reply.

“It’s okay, I guess. Are you going to let me in, or just stand there?” Smiling, he opens the door wider and you get a glimpse at the modern, expensive interior.

Fuck.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Hi! So, the next chapter is going to be...super smut! After this the story really picks up, don’t worry - I have big plans for it! If I’ve made any mistakes (like typos or anything) please message me so I can fix them! Thanks :) 

[quirk-registration-office]

((In honor of the BakuShima Christmas Week hosted by @kiribakuatxmas, this is my submission for Day 6:  December 26th - Dressing Up. I hope y’all enjoy!))

Dressed Up Nicely...as a Reindeer

A glance at his watch had Katsuki fuming. Eijirou was ten minutes late. Gritting his teeth and growling, he tapped his freshly polished, black loafers furiously against the pavement. He pulled at his red tie and undid the top button of his black dress shirt, even though he knew he’d have to put it all right again before dinner if he didn’t want to get an ear full from the hag. If he had to wait for his idiot boyfriend, then he was at least going to be somewhat comfortable.

Another look at his watch. Thirteen minutes late. Huffing, Katsuki pulled out his phone and furiously started typing in Eijirou’s phone number, hitting the call button just as someone yelled his name.

“Finally! Where’ve you been, Shitty Hair? My folks will be waitin-” Katsuki’s voice trailed off when he turned to the other teen running up the sidewalk and momentarily lost the ability to speak. When he found his voice again, he shouted, “What the hell are you wearing?!”

Eijirou glanced down in confusion. “You said to dress up.”

“I meant dress up nicely, you dumbass! Not like a five year old at bedtime!” Katsuki ran a hand down his face in exasperation before staring incredulously at the reindeer kigurumi that his boyfriend had decided was appropriate for Christmas dinner.

A Christmas dinner where he’d be meeting the Bakugo parents for the first time.

It was brown with black buttons trailing down a white belly, and it hung loosely despite Eijirou’s broader build. Crimson hair had been left unstyled and pulled back in a loose ponytail. It was probably the only way he could fit that ridiculous reindeer hood over his head, Katsuki considered. His face mottled with irritation, second hand embarrassment, and from thinking about how adorkably cute Shitty Hair looked.

“Oh!” Eijirou exclaimed, as if remembering something important while completely ignoring Katsuki’s confused anger, “I have something for you!” Before Katsuki could resume yelling, a headband with large, brown antlers was placed amidst his ash blonde hair. Shock froze his entire body, and when Eijirou looked at him, he paused as well.

Stricken by the cuteness of a reindeer Katsuki, Eijirou turned to hug him a touch too tight, burying his blushing face in the blonde’s shoulder. Before he could think too much about it and before Katsuki could resist, Eijirou dragged him into the restaurant.

As expected, a lot of people stared, and Eijirou ducked his head, hiding most of his face underneath the reindeer hood. A few smaller children would pull on their parent’s sleeve and point at him, which he’d return with a bashful smile. Meanwhile, older patrons hid mocking smirks behind their hands, immediately turning to gossip with their companions.

It wasn’t until they found their table that the pink flush crawling its way up Eijirou’s neck darkened as the realization that he was about to meet his boyfriend’s parents finally hit him, along with the fact that their first impression of him would be of a reindeer kigurumi.

For better or worse, Mitsuki Bakugo laughed so hard she cried when she saw her chronically angry son wearing antlers and walking up with a costumed redhead. One hand clutched her aching stomach while the other pointed back and forth between the two teenagers, which only made Eijirou’s face burn hotter until she stood up and pulled him into a hug. Mitsuki released him and allowed Masaru to politely shake hands before demanding they all sit back down to eat.

Overall, things went smoothly after that. His parents chose to ignore Eijirou’s odd manner of dress, even though no one else in the restaurant was, and they quickly devolved into talking about Katsuki’s most embarrassing childhood moments.

By the time dinner had ended and the four of them were exiting the restaurant, Katsuki was ready for the night to be over. Following a little ways behind his parents with Eijirou walking next to him, he clawed a hand through his hair.

“Dammit, Shitty Hair,” Katsuki bit out. Even though he was glad everything seemed to go well, this was far from what he anticipated and he was left unsure how to react. His face fell a bit. It was a little disappointing, because this isn’t how he had wanted it to happen. Eijirou had looked over when he heard the affectionate nickname and frowned when he saw Katsuki’s crestfallen face.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, pausing at the curb. Shame colored his face for the hundredth time that night. He’d known how important this night was, but it hadn’t occurred to him that his overly confident boyfriend would feel the pressure.

When Katsuki realized his Shitty Hair had stopped, he looked back and then watched in muted horror as Eijirou began unbuttoning the baggy reindeer costume he wore right there on the sidewalk. Red eyes shot over to his parents who wore equal expressions of shock until the red haired hero-in-training eventually removed the kigurumi. The pile of fabric was dumped into Katsuki’s frozen arms so that Eijirou could straighten his red button up and tighten his black tie.

Without missing a beat, he proudly strolled over to his boyfriend’s parents and offered them a small, respectful bow. When he stood up straight, his sharp grin was wide, a little apologetic, and more than a little mischievous.

“It’s been a pleasure to meet you both,” Eijirou said. Katsuki froze, listening intently, before hearing them return the sentiment wholeheartedly. His mom’s response of, “That brat’s lucky as fuck to have someone like you dating him,” caused an annoyed, but relieved, sigh to escape him.

Not that it mattered what the old hag and his dad thought.

Because it didn’t.

After his parents gave their final goodbyes and got in their car to drive away, Katsuki’s red stare was burning a hole in the back of Eijirou’s head. When the red head attempted to speak, turning his attention to the explosive teen so that they could head back to the dorms, his wrist was grabbed and Katsuki yanked him close to his side.

The acrid scent of smoke washed over him when he met his boyfriend’s hard red eyes.

“You were wearing that this whole time?” Katsuki demanded, hands sparking as his temper broke. The other teen quickly hardened his arm.

“Well I hadn’t planned on meeting your parents as a reindeer,” Eijirou replied, laughing awkwardly and taking the brown reindeer fabric and folding it over his arm. He was a little amazed that it hadn’t been blasted to ashes yet.

“Then why the hell did you?!”

“Well it was meant to be a joke,” Eijirou reached his free hand up to rub a finger against the headpiece still sticking up out of the ash blond hair. “But you looked so cute with the antlers on, I honestly forgot about everything else. I’m sorry.” Katsuki’s answering blush started at his neck and bled all the way to the tips of his ears. The flustered heat set off a small explosion along his scalp that knocked the antlers askew and singed parts of the fabric black.

“Y-yeah, well. Whatever.”

“I can’t believe you care that much whether your parents like me or not.” Eijirou grinned as warmth spread through his chest despite the cold air.

“I don’t! Shut up, Shitty Hair!” His face burned even brighter.

The two walked together in silence, Eijirou taking the time to appreciate the embarrassed flush coloring Katsuki’s cheeks.

“Hey,” the blonde started. Out of the corner of his eye, he looked at Eijirou. “Dress up in that reindeer shit again for me later.” This time it was Eijirou’s face that exploded with heat, but his smile turned to laughter as he grabbed his boyfriend’s hand and tugged him closer as they walked on.

[tristinai]

Cullrian Seasonal drabble

The tag needs some love so here’s a self-prompted seasonal drabble, inspired by this list.

10: I forgot to buy a Christmas tree and I tried to cut one in your garden, you caught me, please, don’t call the police, I can explain. (Cullrian, modern Thedas AU, rating T)

Just to note, many liberties were taken with this prompt, the largest being the assumption that Satinalia traditions share similarities with Christmas. Any and all mistakes are my own since this drabble has not been beta-read. Happy Holidays!

Dorian didn't know what he had been thinking when he agreed to be responsible for procuring a Satinalia tree for their weekend outing in Dragon's Peak. It had seemed like a good idea at the time: Ellana was scrambling to make last minute arrangements to secure the family cottage from her (evidently, rather large) extended family just before Satinalia and Dorian had been more than happy to relieve her of some of the planning. Sera and Bull had been left in charge of alcohol (a decision that had Dorian raise his eyebrows because if the two had it their way, everyone would be left drinking cheap whiskey and that Maker-awful spirits qunari favored) while Varric and Garrett in charge of the baking. In hindsight, it was all a disaster in the making, made worse by the final push for holiday shopping that saw Dorian working overtime these last few weeks, all while struggling to find time to prepare for his dissertation. Before he knew it, it was already Friday evening and he had to make the drive up to cottage country, hours later from when he had told his friends he would arrive.

Bloody ridiculous, thinking I had the luxury of going out to buy a blasted tree, he thought, moodily, grunting as he impaled the ax into the tree's base.

That he even had found the tool in his trunk was a miracle that he supposed he'd have Bull to thank for later, who frequently borrowed Dorian's car. It was only slightly worrying that the qunari had done anything recently involving an ax.

Snow flicked off the evergreen branches in an annoying, powdery spray that threatened to muss Dorian's carefully oiled coif and put him in an even fouler mood. Cutting down a tree – incredibly illegal, he had no doubt – had been his last option. Never mind that he was an international student on a Ferelden study visa and could see more than his study rights revoked if he was caught. He was far enough up the road from the nearest farm that he doubted anyone would discover him and the need to not disappoint his best friends outweighed being a model resident in that moment.

He cursed beneath his breath as snow splattered onto his face, pausing to swipe a gloved hand over his eyes. Great. Now his face was wet, he was freezing his arse off because Ferelden winters bloody-well sucked, and he was barely even halfway into chopping down this tree.

“You'll never get it down. Not with that sloppy form. And if you keep swinging like that, you'll throw out your back.”

Dorian nearly choked on his next curse, ax fumbling in his unsteady grip. He hadn't expected anyone to find him this far into the woods and certainly not to sass him upon seeing him committing a crime against the environment. His immediate reaction was a vicious retort to match his bitter mood but panic prevented him from running his mouth before he found himself in even hotter water.

Turning to face the man who had interrupted him, the Tevinter tried not to let his surprise show at seeing a handsome blond standing not yards from where he was chopping, an unleashed mabari at the man's side. The beast had its head tilted, sniffing the air as if to discern whether it liked this trespasser, while Dorian's brain was trying to come up with anything to say other than the word FUCK, which was running on a loop in his head.

“...this isn't what it looks like,” he said, realizing how stupid it sounded once it was said.

“Really?” the Fereldan questioned, a hint of disapproval beginning to creep into his feigned tone of bemusement. “Because if I didn't know better, I'd think you were trespassing on private land and attempting to chop down one of my sister's trees.”

Okay. So maybe it was what it looked like.

Fasta vass. He had been caught with literally ax in hand, hacking away at a tree.

“Perhaps we can come to some agreement that doesn't involve inconveniencing either of us further,” Dorian tried, using that same, smooth tone he had to employ often to defuse the ire of disgruntled customers. “I apologize, take my leave, and we forget this rather embarrassing situation. Poor judgment on my part.”

“Or, I have you fined for illegally attempting to fell a tree,” the man answered, arms folded over his chest, grim lips beginning to curl in a scowl.

“There's no need to get the authorities involved,” Dorian replied, quickly. He didn't even want to think of what could happen to his student visa if he was entangled in a violation of the law. “I'm sure we can find other means to settle this. I'm more than willing to compensate you, Mr...?”

“Detective Cullen Rutherford.”

…FUCK.

It would be just his luck that he ends this shitty week being caught by a police officer in his first flirtation with crime.

How was he going to get out of this without making things worse?

"Detective Rutherford? How wonderfully Fereldan-sounding. Do appease my curiosity and tell me you have an equally endearing middle name, like Nathaniel or Bryce. Detective Cullen Nathaniel Rutherford. It rolls off the tongue quite nicely."

If the detective was annoyed before, he was absolutely baffled by now, staring incredulously at the would-be tree feller. The gray mabari barked at the sound of its master's name while the officer began to flush.

"What are you--t-that's not my--"

"No need to correct my assumption. You can tell me over a cup of coffee. How does next Thursday sound?"

The poor blond looked even more bewildered at the turn of conversation. It took him a few seconds to process the silky, flirtatious tone Dorian was using. And when he figured it out, his face went a deeper shade of red.

"A-are you attempting to bribe an officer of the law with coffee to avoid being charged for a misdemeanor?"

"Bribe?" the Tevinter laughed, his voice taking on a coy lilt. "Is it so hard to believe that I find you far too handsome to pass up this opportunity, even if we must deal with such frivolities as charging me for attempting to cut down a tree?"

"M-Maker's breath!" Cullen mumbled, dropping his red face into his gloved hands. “Th-there's no need to—you really shouldn't—”

And much to the detective's dismay, his loyal companion bounded through the snow towards Dorian, wagging its stubby tail, to which the Tevinter rewarded the dog with a generous pat on the head and some very appreciated ear scratching.

“Man's best friend indeed,” the detective muttered, feeling more than a little betrayed by his pet.

“I must commend you on your excellent choice in four-legged companions, Detective Handsome.”

“Rutherford!” Cullen quickly corrected, looking for all the world like he was about to die of embarrassment.

“A big, fierce beast like this? And you know what they say about a man with a big dog. He's also got a big—!”

“By Andraste, if I drop the charges, will you stop?!”

Dorian smirked triumphantly. “I was going to say, 'big heart'.”

"Look...it's Satinalia. The weather's not the best and it's hard to see anything clearly this time of night. Let's say a would-be violator of Ferelden's rather important,” Cullen emphasized, with a slight glare, “environmental protection laws managed to get away before any real damage could be done and we forget this whole incident.”

“...that sounds reasonable.”

“And for the love of the Maker, please stop attempting to flirt your way out of trouble. It's not a habit you should be employing every time you anger an officer.”

“But it worked, didn't it?”

The Tevinter's answer was a groan but he swore the Fereldan was hiding a smile behind his gloved hand.

“Alright. No more flirting with officers so gorgeous, they're making me rethink my lifelong hatred of plaid,” Dorian said, winking salaciously at the detective. “From now on, I'll curry favor with officers of the law by bewitching their beloved pets.”

��Something tells me Brixon and I will need to have a long chat about accepting scratches from 'perps',” Cullen said, giving a mock glare to his dog.

"Brixon? What a lovely name for a big, scary mabari," Dorian said, smiling down and scratching the mabari's ear once more.

The dog whined, giving what seemed to be a disapproving look at his master, which only made the detective chuckle.

"Don't be like that. I know you're as good as any one of the men and women who serve on the Denerim police force."

Dorian's head perked up at that. "You're from Denerim as well?"

"Transferred from Honnleath only a few months ago," the Fereldan answered. "You've come quite a ways out of the city to find a tree."

The Tevinter had the humility to look somewhat embarrassed at the observation. "I'm spending the weekend at my friend's cottage and, of course, the one thing I was tasked with, I failed to do until the last minute."

The blond fell quiet for a moment, deep in thought. "If it's a tree you need, I may be able to help you out.”

-*-*-*-

"I can't thank you enough for this," Dorian said, as Cullen helped him secure the tree on the roof of his car.

Checking the ropes one final time, Cullen gave the Tevinter a small smirk. "I'd much rather give you one of my sister's left over trees than have you commit another crime."

"Attempted-crime," Dorian corrected, to which the Fereldan simply chuckled.

As luck would have it, Cullen's sister Mia was the owner of the tree farm he had been attempting to steal a tree from. She had been more than happy to treat Dorian to cocoa as Cullen fabricated a story about finding Dorian at the side of the road and helping him to jump start his car. And when Dorian had added that he had been on his way to find a tree farm that would hopefully still be selling trees at this time of night, Mia had generously offered one on the house.

"It's the least I can do after the night you've been having.”

And if that didn't inspire guilt that had Dorian pulling out his wallet, he wasn't sure what else would. But after much insisting, most of it by Cullen, the Tevinter accepted the gift.

"You really didn't have to do this for me," he added once more, standing a bit sheepishly by the door to his car.

The detective smiled rather shyly and as his cheeks grew pinker, Dorian couldn't help but think, for not the first time that evening, how adorable the (“still quite tragically single,” Mia had declared overly loud over warm beverages, earning her a mortified look from her younger sibling) man was. “When you attempted to flirt your way out of a fine, I knew you had to be in some financial trouble. Times are tough. Plus, it's Satinalia. I hope you and your friends put that tree to good use.”

The Tevinter grinned widely. “You have my word, detective. Thanks again for the tree. Please tell your sister I wish both of you a happy Satinalia.”

As he unlocked his car, he paused, glancing sideways, with a smug smirk on his face. “And just so you know, I would have flirted with you even if you hadn't caught me in the middle of destroying the local environment.”

This time, Cullen's blush reached the tips of his ears, which peeked out above the thick, plaid scarf he wore around his neck.

“About next Thursday...”

Dorian, with one leg already in the vehicle, stopped. “Hmm?”

“I-I'm free. If you still want to know my middle name,” the detective said, ducking his face bashfully.

Dorian's stomach did a flip.

“I-it doesn't have to be a date,” Cullen added quickly, still not quite able to meet the Tevinter's eyes. “I-I don't have many friends in Denerim and—well, it would be nice to—and coffee. Coffee would be great.”

“So, in exchange for coffee, you'd tell me your middle name?” Dorian teased. “Then I, in good conscious, must inform you that Mia divulged that information in private while you were feeding Brixon, Detective Cullen Stanton Rutherford.”

But the Fereldan took the teasing another way, an apologetic look on his face. “Ah, I-I suppose that means you're busy and—”

“And free after 4. If that works for you.”

Dorian had thrown out a random day when he had initially made his suggestion. Luckily, he had nothing planned after his shift.

When the detective looked back up, his honey-colored eyes widened in shock. “Y-yes t-that's great. I—would you like to exchange numbers?”

In his nervousness, Cullen fumbled with his phone and nearly dropped it onto the road. Dorian did his best to hold back a chuckle but seeing the embarrassed smile on the detective's face made the Tevinter's own lips curl in a grin, a flutter in his chest. Once numbers were exchanged and they had added each other to Let’s Chat, a popular Thedosian app, they said their goodbyes and Dorian started his car.

Before pulling off onto the road, he rolled down his window and called out, “Oh, and just so you know, Cullen, Thursday is very much a date!”

The poor man nearly slipped into the snowbank but that didn't stop him grinning from ear to ear as he waved Dorian off.

Perhaps this week wasn't so terrible after all.