#besides Cal but it’s different coming from him

[aerticent]

what if i died

[viennacherries]

Prompt suggestion <3 Rolan/Tav NSFW. Tav really likes it when Rolan speaks to her in infernal. She doesn’t understand it, but it doesn’t change the fact that it turns her on. He starts to notice her subtle reactions to when he curses or something in infernal. Which leads to bedroom shenanigans lol. My username is the same on A03 ^^

this has taken me a minute, mostly because i had to spend some time literally making up the infernal language for the purpose of this fic LMAO. if you're interested in my process it's in the end notes on ao3.

i changed the prompt a little though; rolan doesnt notice because he's very silly and keeps failing the perception check. lia notices immediently.

NSFW read on ao3 here

~~~

The first time Tav hears Rolan speak infernal, she doesn't even register it as a word. It slips past his tongue and it's all consonants and noises that she's not sure she could emulate properly with her non-tiefling tongue.

"Zurgan." He mutters it under his breath as he drops a pile of books.

Her quill stops midair where she's busy writing up an inventory of magical items they've found. With everyone else busy or gone from the city, she offered to help Rolan with organising the tower. It's been a nightmare, frankly. The previous tower master (she wont do him the privilege of speaking his name, the bastard) had apparently spent the last who-knows-how-many years stuffing things into random shelves and boxes.

She frowns as she tries to repeat the word, "Zu- Zurgan? What's that mean?"

Rolan jumps, clearly having forgotten she's in the room, "not zurgan, zurgan. It means- well, I don't know if it translates literally to common. It's... an expletive, I suppose ."

She laughs, "so it means 'fuck'?"

He huffs, and rolls his eyes, "I suppose that's a close enough approximation, yes."

"I don't think I've ever heard you swear before."

"Well," his brow is furrowed as he thinks, "I suppose I try not to, really. It's not becoming."

Tav snorts at that, "Gods, how old are you, 150? Besides, how is swearing in tiefling any different?"

"The language is called infernal, you uncultured swine. I'm a tiefling, I speak infernal."

"You speak something alright. Usually a crock of shi-"

"What did I say about it not being becoming, hm?"

She rolls her eyes at him, "so sorry, Master Rolan, please accept my humblest of apologies for disgracing your presence in such a regard."

He rolls his eyes at her, but she hears him snort and sees the quirk of his lip. "I suppose as far as apologies go, that one will suffice."

~~~

Several weeks later, Cal shouts through the door to the study where they're cataloguing evocation books, "Rolan! Lia and I are heading to the market, do you want us to pick up more of the wine you like?"

He laughs, which is rare enough in itself, and leans out the door to reply.

"Fazit drakon'ziz orum?!"

She hears Cal's responding cackle from down the hallway. "alright, alright, little drakon'ziz. I'll get 2 bottles, 'cos I love you."

When Rolan comes back in, chuckling to himself, Tav doesn't say anything. She wants to ask what it means, but she's... distracted.

Something about the way the words sound when he says them is... enticing. She's not sure if she could repeat them without butchering them, but even if she could she's sure they wouldn't sound as delicious as when they come from him. It's something about the rich tone to his voice, which she's always liked, coupled with the harsher edge it takes on when he speaks the foreign language.

Gods, she's been spending far too much time with him,

She clears her throat, "drakon'ziz?"

Rolan turns to her, still smiling, " drakon'ziz , but close. It means dragon."

His lopsided smile, aimed at her, coupled with the gruffness of the unknown word, is a little bit intoxicating.

"What about the rest of what you said? Fa- Fazit something?"

"'Fazit drakon'ziz orum?' It means 'does a dragon want gold?' It's a tiefling saying, basically means 'yes, obviously.' It just sounds better in infernal."

Tav agrees. It sounds rather lovely in infernal, in fact.

When Tav doesn't reply, he raises an eyebrow, "I could try and teach you some? Infernal, that is. If you'd be interested. Tell me something you want to be able to say, I'll try and teach you how to say it."

She thinks for a moment.

"What if I want to call someone a shit-head?"

He barks out a laugh as he rolls his eyes, "of course you'd just want to know how to insult people. I think the closest translation would be uzterku'zereb.  That means 'shit-for-brains'."

Despite the small jolt her stomach gives as he utters the phrase, she starts cackling. "That's even better!"

~~~

It's been about a month and a half since they started cataloguing everything in the tower, and it's basically become a nightly occurrence that Tav stays for dinner with them. Rolan has finally sat down at the dining table, after bringing all the dishes and cutlery through, and right as he hits the chair there's a sheepish voice from beside him.

"... Rolan~" It's Lia, in a singsong voice, and he huffs.

"What do you want?" It's a question, but it sounds more like an admonishment.

"How could you?! Assuming I want something from you. My beloved big brother. I look up to you so much. Also I left my drink in the sitting room."

You and Callum both laugh, and he makes a very dramatic show of pushing his chair back out with a huge sigh.

"You're such a..." He flails for a moment, as if the word in common has escaped him, "an uztanatez. Next time, you're getting it yourself."

She laughs, "My dear brother, I would fall on my sword for you."

"Mhm." He grumbles, " gladiz zurzum kuluz ..."

Cal nearly falls out of his chair laughing as Rolan trudges from the room, and Lia has a grin on her face from successfully riling him up and getting what she wanted.

Tav is blushing.

"What did he say?" She feels hesitant to bring attention to herself when she knows she's bright red, but she's also too nosy for her own good.

Lia looks at her and opens her mouth to answer, but pauses as she takes in Tav's face. Cal, blissfully, doesn't notice.

"Well the first bit was him calling her a suck up," he laughs through his explanation, "and the second bit was him telling her exactly where she could shove her sword."

She laughs, and thanks him for telling her. Lia is still looking at her. Her face warms more.

"What?"

"Hm." Lia smiles in a way that looks slightly threatening; the way Tav imagines a shark would smile at a seal before taking a huge chunk out of it. "Nothing, really. Only, you weren't that flushed before Rolan spoke in infernal. Got a thing for the devil's tongue, have you Tav?"

Cal furrows his eyebrows in confusion, before his eyes widen and his mouth drops in an 'o' of understanding.

She's about to deny it but she can feel that she's even redder now, so instead she buries her face in her hands. "Don't you dare! Don't you dare say anything!"

"Say anything about what?" Of course Rolan would walk back in now. He places Lia's cup in front of her and turns to Tav expectantly, but Lia speaks before she can.

"Tav is just embarrassed because she didn't understand what you said, she felt left out."

His face breaks into a look of confusion, "You shouldn't be embarrassed by that, Tav, you don't speak the language. Uztanatez-" Tav sucks in a breath, and Lia snorts, "means 'bootlicker'. Gladiz zurzum kuluz means... well... 'shove your sword up your rear'."

Cal and Lia are both sporting shit eating grins. Tav thinks now is a good time to pick a God and pray.

~~~

" Pulch'zer."

He says it as she walks through the door to the study one morning.

"Sorry, repeat that?"

His eyes widen, and his face flushes a deep crimson colour. She's never seen him blush before, or at least she's never noticed because of his skin's natural shade.

"Sorry I was just..." He averts his gaze, looking back at the paperwork he's working on, "I was just thinking out loud..."

She chuckles lightly. "Ah, that text will be kicking your ass then. Pulch'zer. What does it mean?"

He looks up at her again. His eyes lock with hers.

"You're close, it's not pulch'zer, it's pulch'zer . You have to put more emphasis on the 'Z' sound."

Gods, she needs to stop asking. He always ends up correcting her, and she always ends up going bright pink. He pronounces the words more precisely when he's teaching her how to say them, it drives her insane.

"Pulch- Pulch? Pulch'zer."

He chuckles, stands and walks over to her. "You're close, but now you're putting too much emphasis on it." He's only an arms length away from her now. " Pulch'zer ."

She gulps. He needs to stop repeating it.

"P- Pulch'zer." She can't tear her eyes away from him, she stares right into his gaze as she repeats it. He sucks a small breath in, so small it's barely noticeable.

"Yes. Very good."

There's a pause.

"So. What does it mean?"

He's flushing again. "It... Well. It..."

She raises an eyebrow, "that bad huh?"

"... it means 'beautiful'."

Tav's face twists in confusion. "What about your book is beaut-"

Rolan surges forward and plants his lips on hers. She gasps into it, the rest of her words swallowed by her inhale and his tongue. She sinks into it. His hands fall onto her waist, and he uses them to drag her closer, pulling the whole length of his body against hers. When he pulls away it feels far too soon, but in his defence he's breathless. He only leans his chest away, his hips still against hers.

"I wasn't talking about the book."

The look in his eyes is vulnerable in a way she's never seen him before. As though he desperately wants her to understand, and yet is terrified that she will. Like he's scared to fracture whatever comfortable thing they've fallen into together.

"Well..." She takes a deep breath, rests a hand on his chest. "Then I'd like you to know that I think you're very pulch'zer."

He sucks in through his teeth and lets out a single disbelieving laugh. "That sounds ridiculously good when you say it, you know."

She snorts, dismissive, "please, it's far better when you say it. I love when you speak infernal."

He stares at her.

She feels her eyes bug out of her head as what she said hits her. "I mean! Not that- I don't mean that like-"

"You love it? What does that mean?"

She can feel the heat in her face. Suddenly everywhere he's touching her is too much, she needs to fall through the floor to a new realm and start her life over with a fake name.

"I don't- I didn't mean-"

As she fumbles over her words, Rolan's face starts to lift into an understanding smirk. "Oh. I see. You love it."

He leans forward towards her, and his lips brush her ear.

"Tibiz plazet link'zon mezoq ?"

She shudders, "Rolan, I have no idea what you're saying."

He chuckles lowly against the shell of her ear. " Zedzit'n, nul'umne? Zede illizquit diko ."

Gods, it's torturous. He's dropped his voice an octave, giving the already heavy words an even more gravelled tone. Her breath is coming out in pants and she whines. The way it's affecting her is ridiculous.

He doesn't stop, " morentez me'zam? Notzo'illi ."

"Rolan, please."

He grins against her, and she feels his length pressing against her body through his robes. " Quid plaket, dilekt'miz ?"

" Rolan , common tongue, please . I want to know what you're saying."

"I said 'please what?'"

Tav huffs in irritation, "I don't know."

He brings his lips up to brush hers, smiling against her as she tries to pull him closer.

"Do you want me to kiss you again?"

She swallows hard around the lump in her throat and nods.

"Mhm. Ask me nicely."

The noise she lets out is embarrassing, a high pitched whine that she couldn't stop if she tried, but she feels his breath against her lips as he exhales in excitement.

"Kiss me, Rolan. Please."

His smile is wide against her, "as you wish, pulch'zer."

When he kisses her, his lips are gentle against hers. Soft and pliant, eager but restrained. When he parts them slowly, she responds in kind and finds his tongue with hers, and he rewards her with a deep, sensual moan from low in his throat. His lips are warm and soft, his mouth tastes of spearmint, his breath flows through her. She feels her small-clothes growing damp.

As he deepens the kiss his movements grow more insistent, more intense, and he squeezes her hips as he grinds her into him. She moans in response and the noise flips a switch in him. All of a sudden his lips are frantic, the kiss turning messy and needy, and his hands are running up and down her body as thought they don't know where to settle.

He pulls back enough to speak, his breath dancing along her lips, his voice barely above a whisper. " Nezkiz quid'mih fakiaz. Volui'illi tamd'umne ."

Tav moans, long and slow as the words rush over her skin, "Gods, Rolan. I wish I knew what you were saying. Fuck ."

He chuckles quietly, "perhaps I'll teach you Comprehend Languages. Then again... Forzit adv'illi."

She groans. "Rolan, please ."

He grins, grinding his length against her, "please, what?"

The huff she lets out is impatient, "you know what."

His mouth traces the shell of her ear again and she shivers. "Perhaps. But tell me anyway."

She groans, "please fuck me, Rolan."

He needs no further invitation. Rolan undresses them both rapidly, swift and efficient just as he treats his work, and they're both bare before each-other in a few moments.

When he looks over her, sweeping his eyes across her form, he lets out a low noise of appreciation. "Hells, Tav, you're beautiful."

She feels nervous, all of a sudden, bare before him, but she smiles despite it. "So are you."

He's back on her, trailing his lips along her throat and collarbone, leaving teasing bites and grazes with his canines. She's a whimpering, writhing mess beneath him but she doesn't care. She can feel his length pressed against her stomach, can feel the grooves of the door on her back, and she's absolutely aching with need.

"Is this okay? Are you comfortable?" His questions make her chest ache with a different kind of need to the one pulsing through her core.

"Yes, Rolan. Please, for the love of- fuck me against this door."

His moan in response to her words is loud and wanton. " Hells , Tav. Lift your leg for me."

She does, and he grabs under her knee, lifting it up so it wraps around his hip, the heel of her foot against the base of his tail while her other foot stays planted against the floor. His other hand comes between them, grips the base of his cock and rubs it against her folds. She throws her head back as she keens, and at the same time he lets out a groan closer to a growl.

"Fuck, you're so wet. Is- This is still okay? You want this?" His voice wavers with lust.

Hearing him curse is almost as incredible as hearing him speak infernal. "Yes , Gods if you don't-"

He's sliding himself into her before she can finish her threat, and the rest of her words fizzle out into a high pitched moan as she throws her head back. His length is ridged and she can feel every notch as it slides into her. He works his way into her slowly, thrusting only an inch at a time until his pelvis comes to rest against hers, and he folds over to rest his forehead against her shoulder.

His first half of his sentence is muttered, the second half directed at her, "Tam strikta , fuck. Ita infek'tum strikta. Tell me when you're ready, dilekt'miz."

"I'm ready, please, fuck me."

He silences his own moan by clamping his mouth over the meat between her neck and shoulder, and begins thrusting shallowly. The slide of him inside her, the ridges on his shaft dragging against her walls, has her tightening her leg around his waist and dragging him closer. He grunts through his mouthful of her skin and starts to pick up his pace, until he's thrusting hard and fast into her.

She's a mess, and she knows it, but it doesn't matter. She's digging her heel into his ass and arching her hips away from the door to get closer to him, head thrown back and eyes wrenched shut. It's too much, but it's not enough. She grabs his hand that isn't holding her knee up and places it round the back of her other thigh. He's a quick study as always, taking a firm hold on the back of her leg and hoisting her other leg up around him, so she's held up against the door by just his weight against her and his bruising grip. It changes the angle, he drives deeper into her, and they both moan in tandem.

He's speaking again, infernal dialect spilling from him freely into her skin, " Nezkiz. Nezkiz quam di'tez vellem. Quamdiu korpuz tuum'kontraz petivi. Vid'tez habzeq. Miz'tib animez'umne ." He speaks the words with a reverence that that has her keening, clenching around him.

"Rolan, I'm so close, fuck don't stop."

He shakes his head, thrusts into her harder, "Hells, I won't, Tav. I won't, I won't, adv'illi, adv'illi -"

The utterance of more quiet infernal words against her tips her over the edge, and she finds her release around him. His movements become stuttered, desperate, "��Tez amorez. Tez amorez taz'multo. Perfik'miz. Amaz, amaz, num'quam latuz dezeraz. Morent'illi anim defendam."

He follows her over the precipice and empties himself inside her. She tightens her hold on him with her legs and kisses his neck as his hips twitch through his release, and as he stills they both try to find breath against each-other's skin.

"Gods, Tav." His voice is hoarse, "you- that was- I-"

She chuckles, which makes her walls clench and his hips stutter as he gasps at the feeling. "That was amazing, Rolan. What... Um. What were you saying?"

She pulls away to look at him, and his face is incredibly red. His freckles are barely visible through the violent blush. "Oh, um. Nothing- Nothing, really. Nothing important. Just... babbling. You know."

She laughs, slowly lowering her legs to the ground, both shuddering as he pulls himself from her. He mutters a quick incantation and they're both clean.

"You're going to have to teach me Comprehend Languages, now. I'm far too nosy to leave it at that."

"Hm. We'll see."

~~~

Translations:

"Tibiz plazet link'zon mezoq?" ("You like when I speak to you in my native tongue?")

"Zedzit'n, nul'umne? Zede illizquit diko." ("But you don't care, do you? It's not about what I say.")

"Morentez me'zam? Notzo'illi." ("Moaning for me already? Aren't I lucky.")

Quid plaket, dilekt'miz?" ("Please what, my beloved?")(he lies and tells her it means "please what?")

"Nezkiz quid'mih fakiaz. Volui'illi tamd'umne." ("You have no idea what you do to me. I have wanted you for so long.")

"Then again... Forzit adv'illi." ("Then again... Perhaps I won't.")

"Tam strikta, fuck. Ita infek'tum strikta. Tell me when you're ready, dilekt'miz." ("So wet, fuck. So tight and wet. Tell me when you're ready, my beloved.")

"Nezkiz. Nezkiz quam di'tez vellem. Quamdiu korpuz tuum'kontraz petivi. Vid'tez habzeq. Miz'tib animez'umne." ("You have no idea. You have no idea how long I've wanted you. How long I've craved your body against mine. I have dreamt of having you like this. My soul burns for you.")

"adv'illi" ("I won't.")

"Tez amorez. Tez amorez taz'multo. Perfik'miz. Amaz, amaz, num'quam latuz dezeraz. Morent'illi anim defendam." ("I love you. I love you so much. You complete me. Please, please never leave my side. I would protect you to my dying breath.")

[twilightaurora]

bolstering a fighter's spirit – sage

sneak peek: before battle, link pulls you aside with a request. he wants to wear his barbarian armor into the fight, but he needs help with the paint patterns of the set. after all, the attack bonus only happens when the purple paint completes the armor. won't you help him?

pairing: sage (totk!link) x fem!reader, background chain (no wind) x fem!reader (poly) – this will be four parts! one for sage, wild, and cal, then the triplets together ;)

warnings: 18+ content! (do NOT interact with this unless you have an age indicator in your bio - I WILL block you) cursing, spitting, handjobs/masturbation, hair pulling, praising, mentions of oral (m! receiving), sage is a big tease, a little bit of exhibitionism (public setting, but you're alone), jealousy ;) biting (forgive me if sage is ooc, he's just a little gremlin in my eyes) this is mostly teasing – the good stuff will come in part four ;)

word count: 6.4k

a/n: i want sage in a way that is concerning to feminism i think (/j... or am i??) this is dedicated to @neverchecking who fueled my brain rot xD this series is for you >:D

It starts with Sage.

Because it always does. 

The chain landed in his Hyrule the day before, appearing on the borders of Zora’s Domain. The shift wasn’t terrible this time – for you anyway. Hylia, whether intentionally or not, had dumped you directly atop Time and Twilight. 

In your humble opinion, Time made a much worse cushion than his successor. With his broad chest and stiff armor, the eldest hero was less than comfortable to land on. Twilight, on the other hand, managed to grasp a hold of your waist in the midst of the fall, and dragged you into him as the three of you went down. You ended up landing mostly atop Twilight, much to your thanks. However, you could still feel the harsh press of Time’s armor against your sides.

“Oof,” you grunt as the air escapes your chest involuntarily. Pressing a hand to your ribs, you suck in a grateful breath of air as you lean forward. 

A hand slips around your hips as another gently taps against your back.

“You alright there, darl’?” 

It’s Twi. His accent is unmistakable. 

His hand rubs sweetly against your side as you cough. Sitting up with a huff, you feel Twilight hum as you lean away from his chest. Awkwardly, you shimmy off his lap to land between him and Time, smiling with a little chuckle, you nod. 

“Yeah, m’okay,” you smile, feeling your breath return. “You?”

Twilight chuckles, shifting and stretching his back. The three of you landed on your backs, facing skyward as the portal closed above you. It wasn’t a big fall, but it was enough to leave you winded. 

“M’alright, too. What about ya,’ Time? Ya’ good, old man?” Twilight turns over his shoulder to look at Time with a toothy grin. You catch a glimpse of his sharpened canines and have to look away before he catches your lingering stare. 

Time huffs, rubbing his own hand against the chest-plate of his armor. 

“Watch it, pup,” the eldest murmurs, but there’s no heart in it. Especially when you find the grin twisting the corner of his mouth upwards. “I’m okay. Is everyone all here?”

“We’re good!” 

The reply comes from Wind, the youngest already standing and looking around the new environment. His hands are on his hips and there’s a beaming grin on his lips. 

“Speak for yourself, kid,” Legend grunts. The Vet is pulling himself from a pile of limbs, buried beneath the forms of Hyrule, Sky and Wild. “You didn’t land at the bottom of the pile.”

A resounding groan comes from Sky as he weasels his way from underneath the others, offering his own complaint. 

“Four’s a little woozy, but other than that we’re doing fine,” Warriors inputs, his form crouched beside the mentioned hero. Four is on his hands and knees, panting as he attempts to right himself. Shifts are always a little different for him. Perhaps it had something to do with the other parts of him still constrained within one form, but he didn’t quite know. 

“I’ll be fine, Wars. Just gimme’ a few minutes.” 

Time is on his feet a moment later, turning back to you with a sweet smile and offering a hand. 

“Thank you,” you hum as you slip your fingers into his own. Twilight props you up as you begin to stand, his hand sliding from your back to a fraction lower. When you turn over your shoulder to shoot him a look, Twilight gives you a wolfy smile and a little wink before he begins to stand as well. You roll your eyes goodnaturedly and ignore the flash of heat that zings through your gut. 

“Of course, sweetheart,” Time murmurs, brushing the dirt off your tunic as you fix yourselves. “Anyone know where we are?” 

“It’s my Hyrule,” comes Sage’s voice. The Hero of the Zonai is looking down at his Purah Pad, scanning through something as he speaks. “We landed pretty close to Zora’s Domain. If we’re lucky we can make it there before nightfall.” 

Wild nods, brushing off his tunic as he confirms Sage’s words. 

“I recognize Inogo Bridge,” he muses as slings a Lynel Bow over his shoulders. “Is the road to the Domain as overrun here as it is in mine?” 

Sage hums as he filters through his weapon inventory, eventually summoning a Zonaite Sword that’s been fused to some monster part that the others don’t recognize. That Fuse ability of his is still something the Chain is getting used to. 

“It’s not so bad. I cleared it out before the last Blood Moon, but I’m not sure how long I’ve been gone.” 

Time leaves your side to join Sage and Wild. Cal fills his empty place easily, a little grin on his lips as he scans over your form. When he finds no injuries, his smile broadens, giving you a nod as you lean forward to pat his cheek sweetly. The pinkish hue of his cheeks is too cute. 

“I’m fine, Cal, really,” you murmur, leaning into the Hero as he blushes. 

“Just checking, is all.” 

You smile, pecking Cal’s cheek as you leave his side to join the other heroes. Time has his arms crossed over his chest as Sage speaks, his one eye still shut and his armor glinting in the sun. 

“Okay,” the Hero of Time begins, scanning over the Chain as he mulls over his words. “We move in an hour. That should give everyone a chance to recover from the shift. We should prepare for a fight – with our luck, the road will probably be overrun.” 

The rest of the Chain offer various forms of agreement, beginning to move away as they shift through their various belongings. You pull your pouch to your front and untangle the strings as you rifle through the magically enhanced insides. Finding the bottles you’re searching for, you count the number of healing potions and fairies still on your person. Mentally accounting for the rest of the chain and the number of potions you know are in Wild’s slate, you hum thoughtfully. There’s enough. As long as nothing goes terribly wrong, everything should be just fine. 

A moment later, your name is called. 

Lifting your head, you find Sage’s eyes across the clearing. The Hero of the Zonai finds your gaze and lifts his hand to beckon you closer. 

“C’mere, sunflower,” he smiles, the glint in his eyes reflecting something deeper. His grin looks a little too close to a smirk, and your heart skips a beat. He wants something. “I need your help with something.”

You follow his motion with a silly tumble of your stomach. Sage never fails to make your gut flip and your skin warm. You’re so weak for this man and he’s not even doing anything. 

“What’s up, Sage?” 

The hero is already wearing different clothes from the ones he landed in. You recognize them – you’ve seen his barbarian armor before. He and Wild – as well as Cal, you’ve come to learn, each have a set of the ‘armor.’ You’re hardly sure it can be called armor, given how little it actually seems to protect during battle. Wild had mentioned the armor was enhanced by the Great Fairies, giving him some kind of magical boost during battle. You didn’t really understand it, but you believed him. The triplets were wonders on the battlefield, and with the addition of the armor, you could tell their prowess seemed to grow. 

However, though Sage dons the leg wraps and the chest guard, the helm is still missing. When you step closer to the hero, you notice he’s suspiciously missing something else too. 

There’s no paint decorating his skin. 

The fur of his boots and at his shoulders ruffles with the soothing breeze, and you desperately try to keep your eyes away from the toned lines of his abdomen. Sage, however, seems to notice your struggle, because his grin only seems to broaden. 

When you reach his side, Sage holds something out to you. 

A paintbrush. 

“Can you help me with this, pretty? I can’t reach my back as easily as you can.” 

You have to battle against the way your stomach flutters. Skin warming and fingers twitching, you reach out to grab the brush from Sage’s outstretched hand. 

“Are you sure?” you murmur. “I don’t know the pattern as well as you.” 

Sage gives you another grin, humming sweetly as he reaches for your hands. His skin is warm as he pulls you closer. 

“Of course I’m sure. I’ll help you, love. Just come with me, please?” 

The look he gives you makes your knees weak. His lidded eyes are filled with something you can’t decipher, and his pretty cerulean irises are peering down at you with something dark in their depths. The way he leans forward over you is troubling given the way your heart clenches. 

“Okay, if you’re sure,” you whisper, smiling back at the hero.

Sage leads you away from the camp the Chain begins to build. You’re not quite sure what the distance is for, but you assume he must want some privacy given how close the paint is to… 

Oh. 

Sage smirks as you begin to realize what he’s asked you to do. His grip on your hand tightens and you press your lips together to repress the way your cheeks warm. Your stomach flips and something hot surges between your thighs. 

“You finally realize what I’m asking you, pretty girl?” 

Goddesses, this man is too much for you. 

You offer Sage a look, feeling suddenly small beneath his heated gaze. His blonde locks are loose and hanging delicately around his face, and you want to run your fingers through the silky tresses. You wonder what kind of sound he’ll make if you tug on them. 

Turning back to you when he’s deemed the distance enough, Sage gives you another smirk and pulls you close. He clutches your hips in his hands, tugging you closer with lidded eyes and leans down closer to you. Your heart skips a beat as his lips graze over your own, and you surge closer to his pretty mouth. 

Sage chuckles, the low sound making your stomach feel funny. 

“Ah ah, sunflower…” he tuts playfully, squeezing your hips and pressing his waist into your own. “I still need your help – there’s no attack boost without the body paint, you know?” 

You huff, shooting him a withered look at Sage grins. The hero pulls out the paint he uses for such purposes, outstretching it towards you as he motions towards the paintbrush. 

“Please, my love? You can start with my legs.” 

You nearly roll your eyes at his honey-sweet tone, giving him another look as you accept the paint. Your stomach flips again when Sage leans back, resting his weight against a tree behind him. The hero spreads his legs a bit, offering you the space between them as he looks down at you. 

With something hot rippling beneath your skin, you realize what he beckons for you to do. Huffing, you drop to your knees at Sage’s feet and look up at him with your brows raised. You find the man already looking down at you with a toothy grin, and something feral in his expression makes you even weaker to his salacious smirk. 

“This what you wanted, Sage?” 

“That’s perfect, sweet girl. You know I love you on your knees for me,” he purrs. “You know what the pattern looks like?”

You offer a small nod, shifting your eyes to the empty expanse of his toned thighs. On your knees, your head comes up to his hips, and you’re given a beautiful view of his gorgeous legs. The little skirt the armor uses barely covers more than a few inches beneath his hips, and you’re given more than an eyeful of his pretty, bare skin. 

Turning back to the paint in your hands, you dip the paintbrush in the royal purple color and lift it back towards his skin. Looking back up at him once, Sage inclines his head in a nod and you melt underneath his dark eyes. 

You start at his legs, dragging the paintbrush across his right leg. On his outer thigh, you paint the crossing pattern that you’ve seen span over his legs. You definitely have not been paying close attention to the pattern that the armor always dons… 

Flushing at the memory, you feel your thighs weaken, so you spread your knees farther apart to counter the weight. Head spinning as you finish the first leg, you look back up at Sage. He’s still watching you, one of his hands lifting to brush some of your hair out of your eyes sweetly, you melt into his hand. He gives you an uncharacteristically tender look before he nudges you back to your job. 

When you turn to the other leg, you find the leather drop sheath encasing his upper thigh. The dagger in the holster glints in the sun, but that’s not why your stomach flips. 

“Can I…” you murmur, voice uncharacteristically weak. “Can I take this off? I think the paint goes across here, doesn't it?” 

Sage hums, a knowing smirk on his lips as he runs his fingers across your scalp again. Leaning his hips forward towards you, you feel another lick of heat flick between your thighs. 

It’s so… hot. Everything is so hot. You know he’s teasing you, but it’s working. 

By the Three, is it working... 

Sage makes no move to take the holster off himself, simply offering you his hips and looking down at you through his lashes. “Go ahead, pretty. Take it off f’me.” 

You melt beneath his gaze, shakily lifting a hand to his legs. Your brain is racing and your thoughts are so fuzzy. Sage knows exactly how to make you weak beneath him. It takes so little effort. In any other situation, you’d probably throw a playful swat for such behavior, but when Sage gives you that lustful smirk, you find you’ll do anything he says – as long as he keeps looking at you like that, you’ll do anything and everything. 

When your fingers find the holster, skimming across the pretty, pale skin of his inner thigh, Sage keens. Goosebumps ripple across his flesh where your fingers were, leaving a trail of little bumps in a pattern across his skin. Knocking his head back against the tree trunk, Sage hums out a sweet sound and pushes his hips closer to you. 

“Hnng…” 

Goddesses, does he make pretty sounds. 

You want to hear more. As his hips roll forward, you become more than aware of how close his waist is to your face. It takes every fiber of restraint you have not to drift your hand just an inch closer to the edge of his little skirt. 

Loosening the strap of his sheath, you begin to pull the leather from around his thigh. Dragging it down his legs, you drop it at his feet and look back up at him. 

Sage still has his head thrown back against the tree, his lips tugged upwards in a hazy look with his eyes closed. You’re so tempted to brush your lips across the span of his inner thigh, just where you need to paint. Your legs clench, the heat beginning to swell between your own thighs. Before you stand back up on your knees, the leather discarded at Sage’s feet, you indulge your fantasies. Darting forward, you drag your lips across the pale skin of his inner thigh, grinning when Sage curses. 

“Oh, Hylia,” he hisses, eyes prying open to glare down at you. You grin and Sage reaches a hand out to flick your forehead. 

“Keep going, sunflower. There’s still more to paint, and we’ve only got an hour,” he coos. “If you’re quick, maybe I’ll give you a reward for being so good for me.” 

You hurriedly dip the paintbrush back into the violet ink and Sage chuckles in that deep tone that makes your insides mushy. You finish the second crossing pattern on his leg before Sage’s eyes open again. 

Looking up at him, you lift off your knees and sit up. Now closer to his stomach, you hum shakily and whisper quietly. 

“I can’t remember the entire pattern on your chest, Sage. M’gonna need some help.”

“Of course, my love,” he muses sweetly. His hand is back at your scalp, gently scratching at your scalp and grinning when you keen into his hands. He loves when you go limp in his grasp. Oh, Hylia – he wants to see the look on your face when he yanks the strands back. Would you make a pretty sound for him when he does? Would you beg him to do it again? 

He wants to find out. 

Sage loves the sound your voice makes when you beg him so sweetly. He remembers the way your hips canted up into his own not so long ago, desperate for him to roll back into you as he pinned you beneath him. His eyes slide back shut at the memory, feeling his cock stiffen beneath the skirt of his armor. It twitches and Sage can barely contain the urge to drag your hand beneath the waistband to solve the growing problem. He can so clearly recall the touch of your fingertips against the head of his cock. 

Fuck, it’s so hot. 

“There’s a line across each of my ribs. They go around my back,” he manages to choke out. “Do those first.” 

You obey him without complaint, dragging the soft bristles of the brush across his chest just beneath where the chest-plate ends.  The bristles tickle across his ribs, and in any other circumstance, they might have elicited a silly giggle from the usually so stoic hero. However, Sage is far more distracted by the throbbing beneath his waistband to spare the attention for such sensations. 

As you lean back on your heels, tilting your head to assess if the short lines of pain across Sage’s abdomen are even, the hero chuckles again. Licking his lips, he gives you that feral grin that makes your heart clench. Pushing off the tree, he twists around to give you his back. 

“They go down to my waistband,” he murmurs. “You remember ‘em?” 

You offer a vague nod, too distracted by the cutting lines of his hips. Sage eats up the attention. 

With a racing mind, you finish the pattern, dragging the brush from mid-back downwards to the small of his back. When you lift a hand to the edge of his skirt, pulling the edge slightly to dip the brush beneath his waistband, Sage shivers. 

You grin. 

When he turns back to you, he speaks with a flash of sharpened canines. You nearly squirm at his feet, a notion Sage adores. 

“Now my hips.” 

You swallow thickly. 

Before dipping the brush back into indigo paint, you bite the edge of your lip and push back the smirk that attempts to show. You have an idea. 

“Sage…” you hum sweetly, leaning closer to the hero’s waist. Just an inch from the waistband of his skirt, you pull one of your hands up from the ground to rest against the bare skin of his hip. The toned skin of his waist flexes under the touch of your fingers, and you watch Sage’s closed eyes twitch. 

Perfect. 

“Can you help me, darling? I can’t remember how this looks?” 

Sage’s eyes pry open, seemingly with immense difficulty, and the hero’s dilated pupils meet your own. Blown wide with some kind of primal emotion, Sage’s flushed cheeks spread into a grin as he registers your words. You lean closer to his hips, your fingers delicately tracing shapes over his side. You try desperately to restrain a scheming grin when Sage pushes closer to your hands. 

“‘Course, my sunflower. S’just a triangle over my waist. I’ll help you.” 

When one of his hands reaches for yours, you beam. Sage gently lifts your fingers, pulling you closer by your wrist until your front is nearly pressed up against his legs. He looks down at you with that feral, dominant look he knows you love, and you shiver. Your heart thunders beneath your ribs and Sage adores the way you move so easily for him. Always so eager to obey his commands… Goddesses he loves you. He’ll treat you so well after this – he promises. 

Lifting your hand, he helps you drag the paintbrush over his right hip and carefully draws the triangular shape across his waist. He twists a little, allowing you to finish the shape at his back. With another silly grin, he begins to help you start the other side. 

“There you go,” he coos with batting lashes. “Doin’ so well f’me. That’s just perfect.” 

When you finish his hips, Sage helps you paint the three dots on his front before moving to allow you to replicate the same at the small of his back. 

Then, you’ve reached the part you’ve been eagerly awaiting. The last part of his barbarian armor – the handprints.

Sage twists back to his front, leaning down to press a tender kiss to your forehead – a sweet caress compared to the way he’s been looking at you. He’s always so adoring in the way he treats you, even when he’s manhandling you beneath him. When he pulls your legs over his shoulders, darkened irises scanning over your bare hips, Sage always presses a chaste kiss to your calf to apologize for the stretch of your muscles. Always so sweet to the one he loves. 

“Thank you for helpin’ me. Now, give me your hand, sweet thing.” 

You obey, hand already outstretched with your palm facing skywards. Offering him the brush, freshly dipped in orchid-colored paint, Sage hums and accepts. He delicately cradles the back of your hand and begins to coat your fingers in violet ichor. The clay feeling of the paint sinks into your skin, and you sit obediently as Sage paints your palms. 

His eyes flick upwards to meet your eyes with another teasing grin. 

“You’re enjoying this as much as I am, aren’t you, pretty?” 

You nod, a matching smile on your lips. 

“Good,” Sage purrs, finally finishing the coat of paint across your palm. “C’mere then.” 

He twists to give you his spine first. You grin, reaching forward with your unpainted hand to pull gently at his waistband. Sage’s head knocks back as you nudge the skirt lower. When you can clearly see the small of his back, accentuated by his thin waist – his slutty waist, in your opinion – you lift the violet hand and carefully lay it across his spine. 

Sage hums, head still tilted backwards and his eyes closed. 

Before lifting your palm, you lean forward, eyes closing as your lips graze over the bare skin of his hip. Sage’s skin is hot, flushed red with the rush of warmth surging beneath his waistband. His cock twitches again. 

“Naughty…” he whispers teasingly. 

Twisting back around to the front and reclining back against the tree, Sage is careful not to smudge the paint you freshly smeared across his back. Inclining his hips forward again, the Hero of the Zonai gives you that feral look once more before his hand lifts and he’s beckoning you closer. 

“Just one more…” Sage teases, beginning to paint your palm once more. “One more and I’ll reward you.” 

You shiver, the rumble of his voice seemingly sinking beneath your skin to sink into your chest. He makes you so weak. Perhaps it’s something about the way dominance seems to radiate from him during moments like this. All he has to do is bat those blonde lashes and give you that feral, little grin, and you’re putty in his hands. Well, you suppose it’s not so bad. Sage always treats you so well. 

“Yeah, you want that, huh? ‘Course, you do… I always treat you so good, don’t I?” 

You hum in response, shuffling forward on your knees, “Yeah, I want that, Sage. Please?” 

Sage coos, a teasing smile stretched across his lips. He strokes one of his hands over your cheeks before it crawls behind your neck. Cupping your head, he runs his fingers through the hair at the base of your skull. Your thighs clench again. Sage does the same thing when your mouth is preoccupied with something else – running his fingers through your hair and pulling your face closer to his pretty hips. His head shifts between tossing back and staring down at your face, as if he can’t decide if he wants to give in to pleasure or if he can’t stand to look away. And he always sounds so pretty when you go down on him. 

“Ahh, I love it when you beg so sweetly for me, my darling. Finish this and I’ll give you what you want.” 

Releasing your hand, Sage drops the brush and lays back beckoning you forward with a lustful expression. When you shuffle again, inching closer, the hero pulls you forward by the back of your head and your stomach flutters. Offering you his waist, you lift your unpainted fingers with only a single tremor of your awaiting hand. 

Sage nods, inclining his chin in a command. 

“Pull ‘em down, pretty thing. You’ll need to see what you’re doing, right?” 

You huff, unable to offer a teasing remark in return, simply too transfixed on the sharp lines that lead down his waist. The v-line beckons you, guiding down where you want him most. 

Brushing your fingers across his waistline, you find the band of his skirt. Looking up at him once, Sage watches you with fluttering lashes as you begin to nudge the waistband. Tugging on it, Sage pushes his hips towards you to help you pull the skirt down onto his hip bones. 

It goes slow – tantalizingly slow. Revealing bare skin inch by inch, you lean forward to press a kiss to his left hip, but Sage’s fingers grip the back of your neck harshly. Tugging gently at the strands of your hair, your stomach flutters and heat prickles between your thighs. You let out a little grunt and Sage grins wide. His body shivers, seemingly pleased at the tiny sound of pleasure that fell from your lips. 

“Not yet…” Sage coos. “Be patient, sunflower.” 

You give the hero a haughty look, but obey regardless of the sweltering heat building in your panties. 

Weaseling the waistband downwards, you feel your heart jump into your throat. With more of his heavenly hips exposed, you feel another wave of heat flush through your skin. Each of your nerves seems to jump with adrenaline, and you eagerly lift your violet hand to finish the task appointed to you. Finally, you stop tugging at his skirt, leaving the waistband just above his dick. You know it’s uncomfortable, given how it twitches beneath the cloth of his skirt, flexing upwards at your teasing. Sage gives you an unimpressed look, motioning for you to finish. 

So delicately, you press your palm against his pelvis, the purple paint sinking into his bare skin. Fingers following after, you teasingly rest your hand between the sharp edges of his v-line – just above the throbbing muscle between his thighs. 

Sage keens, his head finally tossing back against the tree with another delicious sound. His hips push forward into your hands, tugging you closer to his waist by your neck. The other hand drops across his eyes, hiding his flushed cheeks in his elbow. 

“Hah… fuck.” 

With his arm hiding his eyes, you finally lean forward away from his fingers and leave a kiss on the edge of his v-line just beside your violent hand. Sage grunts, clenching his jaw as your warm mouth opens to drag your tongue over the dip in his hips. 

“By the three…” he whines, finally scrambling to tug at your hair again. Pulling you away, you drag your hand away from his pelvis with a feral grin of your own. Looking up at your work, you watch as Sage pants, his chest heaving with each breath. 

When he finally shifts his arm, his eyes prying open to find your scheming smile, Sage huffs and tightens his hold of your neck. Tugging you closer, he drops his other hand to slide two of his fingers beneath the waistband of his little skirt. Tugging at the band by his hip, he drags it another inch downwards with a primal grin. 

The paint must be working – that ‘fighting spirit’ finally kicking in. 

Wild had tried to explain it before; the magic the armor gives them. He said it enhanced his attack in battle, by somehow ‘bolstering his fighting spirit.’ However, when you questioned what that meant, Wild had gotten a little shifty. His cheeks had flushed and he rubbed his hands together, simply waving off your question with a simple “don’t worry about it.” 

But you’re not stupid. 

You’ve seen the way the triplets get a little more… primal with the armor on. They’re more aggressive, quicker to jump into battle in an attempt to burn off the adrenaline surging beneath their skin. It makes their eyes glint with something dangerous, and you’re not ashamed to say that you quite like the way they look. 

“My good girl…” Sage coos, still dragging down his skirt at a teasingly slow pace. “Will you help me with one more thing, my love? Just one more?” 

You nod before he even finishes his words. 

Sage grins, all teeth and darkened irises. 

“Hmm, thank you, baby.”

Then, Sage finally pries his skirt from his hips, letting the fur material slide off his waist and drop to the forest floor in a single motion. You only have a fraction of a second to admire his bare skin before his pretty cock fills your vision. Nearly slapping against his stomach, Sage’s dick twitches just once when you shift to look at it. The hero keens into your grip when you lean forward, painted hand sliding over his hip where you know the skirt will hide the smeared violet color. 

Sage’s cock, hard and already leaking at the pretty-pink tip, lays against his stomach. It ends at the tip of the purple handprint you had just pressed into his pelvis, almost as if you had known exactly how long his dick was. 

The Hero of the Zonai grins in that feral way, his form nearly radiating with primal dominance. He slides his other hand down across his stomach, taking care to avoid the fresh streaks of paint. Sage wraps a hand around his cock, tugging gently and stroking until it comes to its full hardness. He suppresses the sweet whine that desperately wants to escape – you have to work for those sounds if you want to hear them. 

“Open your mouth f’me, my good girl.” 

Your head tilts back into Sage’s hand, squeezing your legs together as something warm drips between them. Opening your lips, you look up at Sage as the hero smirks. 

“So good… thank you, darling,” he coos sweetly, moving his hand to run his thumb over your bottom lip with a dark look. Leaning forward, Sage spits into your open mouth with a smirk. 

Swallowing obediently, Sage hums happily and leans downard again to tug your lips to his own. Groaning into this kiss, Sage pries open your lips to lick into your mouth. Moaning happily, you melt into Sage’s hand, now returned to the back of your head. Sage kisses you wetly, saliva smearing onto your lips as he pants, still tugging at his cock. Pre-cum slides down the head, slicking up the length as he slides his fist over it with a whimpered sound. 

“Mmm…ah” 

When he finally pulls away from your swollen lips, you chase after his mouth with a sigh. Sage grins, his dilated pupils scanning over your flustered face with a haughty look. You watch him tug at his dick, rubbing your thighs to combat the throb between them as he keens into his own hands. 

“Sage…” you whine, trying to shuffle closer. 

Something flashes across Sage’s darkened eyes. 

“That’s not my name, sweet girl,” he murmurs with a frown. “You know better. C’mon, wanna’ hear you say it right.” 

Your stomach flutters, his teasing tone making your skin tingle and your head spin. You lean closer to his stomach, whining again. 

Sage frowns, pulling your hair gently to redirect your attention. 

“C’mon, pretty. Say my name – my real name.” 

Your eyes find his, tugging carefully on your bottom lip with your teeth before you whine out the name he wants. 

“Link…” 

Sage – Link groans, head tilting back to expose his pretty throat as he slicks up his cock again. Tugging fiercely at the length as his gut clenches, heat swelling and twisting in his pelvis with a sweltering warmth. 

“Oh, fuck…” he whines, pushing his hips closer to your face with a twitch of his dick. “That’s it, my pretty girl. Thank you, baby – thank you.” 

Just the sound of his true name on your lips makes him so aroused he can feel his cock throb painfully in his fingers. His hand tugs your head closer, now looking back down at you with those dark irises. Sliding his other hand away from his dick, Link allows your mouth to suck two of his fingers. Tasting the salty pre-cum coating his fingers, you shift on your knees again with a pretty sound. Link smirks. 

“Okay, my sunflower. You want your reward now?” 

Nodding, your tongue still flicking over his two fingers, you lean closer. Purple paint smears onto both your hands, and you know there are streaks of it on both of Link’s hips. You hope the other’s don’t see – or perhaps, you hope they haven’t paid too close attention to where the paint is supposed to go. You think you can feel little smudges of the orchid clay spreading across your throat where Link is clutching your neck, but you forget about it when Sage whines again as you lick over his fingers like you would his dick. The pretty sound makes you drip, and the panties you’re wearing are surely soiled now. 

“Yes please, Link,” you whisper. 

Link grins again, then pulls his fingers from your mouth and pulls you into his waist. Heat in his stomach and cock throbbing, purple paint decorating his pretty skin, Link slides a hand around his dick and taps it against your lips. 

“Good,” he murmurs, abs clenching as heat continues to stir. “Then suck and I’ll give you another.”

When an hour passes and you and Sage return to the temporary camp, the Chain turns to find faint streaks of smeared paint across Sage’s waist and a lilac tint on your palms. You’re both grinning, wild smiles on your cheeks as you step back into camp. Sage is in his barbarian armor, the skirt ruffled and twisted around just slightly and the helm now on his head. If Wild looks close enough, he can see a faint, dark mark on Sage’s inner thigh, just barely obscured by the skirt of the armor set.

“Are you kidding?” Wild exclaims as the two of you enter camp. He had to paint the armor himself when he could have just asked for you to do it? 

Wild and Cal are both in their barbarian armor, having painted on the violet patterns themselves. The former rolls his eyes as he watches Sage follow you, a smirk on his lips. He finds Wild staring at him and his expression only seems to grow more teasing. Cal shifts on his feet uncomfortably, finding your eyes and offering you a bashful look. 

“What?” Sage responds, his fanged grin still beaming. 

Wild grunts, huffing as he steps closer to you, beginning to pull you away from the other hero. The long-haired hero shoots Sage a glare, but the elder hero only seems to enjoy the spotlight. Wild wraps a hand around your waist, pulling you close as he finds a streak of orchid-colored clay across your throat – a fingerprint shaped print. 

“You have other armor that gives you an attack boost, you know?” Wild grunts towards Sage, jealousy swirling angrily in his stomach. 

“Yeah, but I wanted this one,” Sage smiles. “And our darling just wanted to help me with the paint – didn’t you, my sunflower?” 

You offer a shy smile to Wild, feeling suddenly flustered beneath both their gazes. 

Some of the other members of the Chain slowly begin to congregate in the center of the camp, drawn to the chatter. Wind remains over the ridge of camp, scouting the path ahead with Four. Legend scans over Sage’s slightly smudged paint and your ruffled appearance, rolling his eyes and huffing. 

“Could have been more subtle, Sage,” the Veteran sighs. 

“But what’s the fun in that,” said hero responds, sending Legend a grin. 

Legend simply rolls his eyes again, stepping forward and licking his thumb to scrub away the paint across your throat. You shrink under his gaze, feeling so shy with their attention now on you. Legend scrubs gently and you shiver at the feeling of his saliva against your skin. 

“Stay still,” Legend murmurs. 

“Sorry, Vet.” 

Wild, still at your side, pulls at your tunic and straightens your ruffled appearance, wiping away something at the corner of your mouth. You shy away from their attention with a flutter of your stomach. When Legend is satisfied, he sends you a knowing look before he turns back to Hyrule. 

Wild hums thoughtfully at your left, and you twist to face him. You tilt your head, silently questioning Wild’s thoughts. The hero follows your titled head, eyes dilating as he examines your swollen lips. Lifting a hand, he brushes over the bottom lip with lidded eyes and something dark flashes across his expression. 

Oh no – you know that look. 

“Wild…” you murmur carefully. 

The Hero of the Wilds meets your eyes with a smirk of his own, leaning close until his mouth is pressed against your ear. He breathes a warm sigh over your skin and enjoys the way you weaken in his arms. When he’s sure the Chain isn’t looking, he drops a hand to squeeze one of your thighs, briefly dragging a finger across the seam of your pants. You keen into Wild’s chest with a breathy sound and the hero sighs happily.

“After we reach Zora’s Domain,” he whispers, voice saccharine like the honey he cooks with. His mouth presses a sweet kiss to the skin of your throat, pecking it gently before he sets his sharp teeth against your shoulder. You whine quietly into him as they prick your flesh, and Wild bites carefully into your throat with a huff. “It’s my turn…”  

bonus:

sage, walking back into camp: sorry i'm late I was doing stuff

reader, emerging from behind sage: i'm stuff! :D

[daisyofwaterdeep]

[Accidental Confessions]

!NSFW! Rolan/Femcis Reader Mutual Pining, Aphrodisiacs, Dubious Consent, Dirty Talk, Vaginal Sex 5.3k

Rolan accidentally spills a love potion on himself. When you come to visit him, he can't hold himself back.

~~~ Being an employee at Sorcerous Sundries has it's perks--getting to hang out with Loroakan's new apprentice being one of them. You often muster up the courage to chat with Rolan during work hours, and though he seems stiff and nervous at first, he quickly warms to the environment. But when the beatings start, he starts withdrawing again. You try to talk to him about it, you show concern and worry, but he bats it all down with a few curt words. It absolutely breaks your heart. And then Loroakan dies. Rolan is busier than ever--you hardly ever see him at the ground floor, but that's fine by you, because when you do see him, he's happy. Tired and overworked, sure, but so happy that your heart aches with your own happiness. You do get a chance to chat with Cal and Lia quite often, and you live off of the scraps that they nonchalantly give you about their brother. How he can be quite stubborn. How he's a picky eater. How he snores. All of these tiny little glimpses of Rolan, filling out your fantasies of what life could be like, if only you had the courage to actually confess. When Cal and Lia are out of town, though, you try to check on Rolan a few times a day, bringing him food and drink, because you know he would forget to nourish himself otherwise. Even though he's neck deep in work, he always expresses appreciation with a soft smile during these moments. You tell yourself that it's all you need.

But one of these visits goes quite differently.

You worry your hands over your dress one last time before you go through the portal, a tray of tea and cake in hand (you always try to indulge Rolan's sweet tooth when you can). Rolan doesn't appear to be on the first floor, and a quick glance at the desks on the various balconies brings up nothing. Wondering if he may have slipped out while you were busy downstairs, you carefully make your way up the nearest set of stairs to get a better look, pondering if you should call out his name.

But then you hear him-- a low, pained groan, followed by hurried breathing. Your head turns to the sound, and you spot a pair of feet from behind several stacks of books on the ground.

"Master Rolan?" You hurry over, tea sloshing. It looks that he had been removing all the books from one of the shelves, likely to sort and catalog them. Did he fall and hurt himself?

Worry clots your throat as you round the stacks and he fully comes into view at your feet. He's got his back propped against the half-empty bookshelf, his legs sprawled out in front of him, his hands clawing weakly at his robes. And his face-- well, you don't really know what to make of it. He looks to be in pain, but even with his furrowed brow and panting mouth, you know in your core that that's not entirely correct.

"R-Rolan!" You nearly throw the tray down as you fall to your knees beside him, hands fluttering over his heaving chest, not sure what's going on or what you can do to help.

Rolan's eyes flick up, as if only just noticing your presence. The rest of his body seems desperate, out of control, but his eyes...they're assured, steady, unblinking. And, you note with a chill, they're almost entirely black. His pupils have blown so wide that only the smallest sliver of gold rings around them, like an eclipse. "You," Rolan gasps, his hands stopping their incessant grabbing of his own clothes to grab at you instead, "Of course it's you..." He gives a short bark of a laugh that dwindles into a breathy sigh as his arms wrap around your back, drawing you close with a surprising strength, "It's always been you, hasn't it?" Being pulled into an impromptu hug by Rolan would have sent you into a tizzy in any other circumstance, but right now you know that you can't be distracted by your own feelings. Something is wrong, very wrong, and Rolan isn't in his right mind. What was he even talking about? Are you the cause of this, somehow?

"M-Master Rolan," You try to pull free from his grip, and as much as it pains you mentally to do such a thing, it seems to be nothing compared to the wounded sound that Rolan makes when you finally wrestle free.

"Please," Rolan begs, dark eyes never leaving yours, his hands still on your sides, "Don't leave me, I--" Rolan bares his teeth as he fights to catch his breath, "Something...something's wrong."

The absolute desperation written across his face has your own breath struggling to come and go.

"What happened?" As you say it you grab his hands, ignoring the little thrill it gives you, and hold them between the two of you. "Talk to me, Rolan. Are you hurt?"

"Hurt..." Rolan's head hangs but his eyes are still on your face, as if it's his duty to look at you, "It hurts, yes--" He groans, a mixture of pain and aggravation, and his back arches away from the bookcase as he draws your hands to his chest with a near painful grip. "Please touch me, touch me..."

You're too flabbergasted to fight back as your hands are forcibly dragged down his torso. Rolan moans at the contact, as if the touch is all that he's needed. Even through the fabric of his robes, you can feel him-- the hard ridges of his infernal ribcage, then the softness of his stomach, and then-- You yank your hands away before they get lower, heat flooding your face and cold waves of shock wracking your frame.

He's turned on. The revelation smashes into you like a hammer to the back of the head. There's no way, right? Rolan, strong, proud, perfect Rolan is currently writhing beside you with need. Your crush, your infatuation, your beautiful, unattainable daydream of a man...There's no way that he's currently drawing your hands back down, bringing them to the distinct outline that presses from under his robes, and it even gives a twitch as he catches you noticing it.

"Please?" Rolan's voice is nothing but a hoarse whisper as he stops your hands right above his erection, "Please, just...a little, I only need a little bit..." His hands squeeze your own as he pleads.

Your body is covered in goosebumps and you can feel your thundering heartbeat in your throat...and between your legs. But despite that, you know you can't take advantage of the situation. It would be too easy to give in, to touch him in all the ways you've fantasized, but you know just how wrong that would be. Because you know there’s something else at play here. Rolan isn’t like this–he would never lose his faculties in such a way.

"I-I can't."

His face goes slack, a look of completely devastated disbelief. You squeeze his hands back, trying to ignore the pang of guilt at making him look so, so heartbreakingly sad.

"Rolan, please listen." You clear your throat as his eyes look unwaveringly into yours. "You're not yourself. You don't want me. You're under the influence of something--a spell, or maybe a potion..."

Rolan shakes his head as you speak, first softly, then with more force, denying everything that you say.

"Yes, Rolan." You say firmly. "Please, I need you to think. You were clearing this shelf before I came in, weren't you? Did you open an odd book, scroll, anything?"

"No, you need to listen." The helpless desperation that Rolan's been soaked in up until this point disappears in an instant. His body stiffens as he sits up, sharp claws digging into the tender skin of your wrists as he pulls your hands to his chest. You can feel the hectic speed of his heart. "I want you," He groans and licks his lips, eyes darting down to your mouth for a brief moment before locking back onto your eyes with a fiery resolve, "I've wanted you for so long." He grimaces, eyes glossy with emotion, "Please. Please believe me."

Oh, he's making this very, very difficult. The sincerity that drips from every word threatens to swallow you into this fantasy-- but that's what this is. Some manufactured fantasy spun by some incredibly potent magic.

But even still, your resolve is wearing down, and fast.

You have to get help, but the risk of ruining Rolan's reputation puts you in a very tricky predicament. You can't go and fetch just anyone. If word gets out about this, Rolan would surely be embarrassed. Perhaps Tolna is still downstairs...she might be able to help?

You raise up on one knee, making to leave, but your foot connects with something on the floor. You snap your head to the side just in time to see a potion bottle roll unceremoniously across the carpet. It's uncorked, but the tapered neck has kept some of the contents inside-- a nearly translucent pink liquid sloshes inside of it before it connects with the handrail of the stairs with a small clink.

So it was a potion, after all. Even if you knew that Rolan was under the influence of something, there's the tiniest part of you that feels hurt. Crushed by your own naivety. Even if you know that it's a ludicrous notion--Rolan would never bother with someone like you, and even if he did, it certainly wouldn't be like this-- there was some thread of hope there, somewhere deep in your heart, that maybe he really did feel something for you.

But of course not. Ridiculous. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

"Did you drink that?" You turn back to Rolan and try to gesture to the bottle with your hand, but Rolan still has it in a death-grip. You nod towards it with your head instead. "Why would you do something like that?"

"What?" Rolan huffs, eyes never leaving your face, "What are you...?" He grimaces and tugs at your hands, a note of frustration furrowing his brow, "Are you teasing me?" That causes a flicker of happiness to light up his face, easing the tension from his jaw, "You're toying with me, aren't you?" And again his face shifts, taking on that serious edge of desperation he had before, his voice falling to an intimate hush, "You want me to beg for you, don't you? I can beg for you, if that's what you wish--whatever you want."

He's hardly making any sense-- you're really not sure if he's just too far gone to remember, or if he really didn't drink it. You can't think of why he would take such a potent love potion, so perhaps it fell on him while he was clearing the shelf....that makes far more sense. And with Loroakan being the bastard that he was, it doesn't surprise you in the slightest that he'd have something so nefarious on hand.

The story starts to fall into place, as well as a course of action. You need to take the potion bottle downstairs. Hopefully Tolna will still be at her counter, but if not, you can run over to the nearby apothecary. Once the potion is identified, you can get an antidote, and then everything will be okay.

But first...you have to pry yourself free from Rolan. That might be the most monumental task of all. But you have a little plan for that as well.

"Rolan," He perks up as you say his name, a small, hopeful smile shaking on his lips. "I need you to stay here, okay?"

"No." This smile disappears just as quickly as it had appeared. He shakes his head like a petulant child, sweating palms pressing your hands more firmly against his chest, "You're not leaving me."

"Just for a moment," You assure him, forcing a calm, even tone. "You said you'd do anything for me, didn't you?"

"Not this," Rolan frowns so hard that his chin dimples and his eyes shine with desperation. You realize that he's on the verge of tears. "Y-you can't leave me..." His eyes rake over your face, looking for any shred of mercy, before he hoarsley croaks out, "Please."

Oh gods. This might not just be a monumental task--it's shaping up to be an impossible one.

It's time to switch gears. Playing the calm, collected one isn't getting you a single inch, but playing his game might get you somewhere.

And it's for Rolan's sake. Completely for his sake. You aren't doing it for your own desires. Just merely...playing the game.

"Listen to me...darling." Your voice trembles at the edges and prickles of heat bloom on your face and chest, "I need you to be good and stay right here." You swallow thickly before adding, "You want to be good for me, don't you?"

The groan that leaves Rolan nearly fogs your brain completely over. He leans his head back against the shelf, his horns clacking dully against the wood and his adam's apple jerking roughly as the noise from his throat dwindles into a low, needy whine.

"Please," He pants, body rolling up in a pseudo-thrust before collapsing back to the ground in a mess of shivers, "Good boy...I'm your good boy..."

Such a simple phrase, and such a strong reaction...the excitement that wracks through your body is so potent that you actually feel numb.

No. No. You have to rein yourself in. You can't let yourself get swept up in Rolan's condition. If you took advantage of him right now, he would never forgive you. Fuck, you wouldn't be able to forgive yourself.

"Th-that's right." You hurriedly say, mouth dry, "Be good for me, and stay right here." The squeak of your voice diminishes any sort of authority you hope to convey, but it's the best you can muster.

You've still got one foot on the floor and make to stand up fully, hoping the action will finally pry your hands free of Rolan's grasp--

"No!"

The force of the word is only matched by the force of which you're pushed back, tumbling to the floor unceremoniously and landing on your bottom. A shocked exclamation leaves you, but it's jerked from your lungs as Rolan pounces you, his full weight knocking you flat on the floor and pinning you.

All at once, the dynamic has shifted into something far more dangerous. Rolan's hair is falling out of it's neatly styled coif and frames his face as he looks down at you, a predatory glaze shining in his dark eyes. With his hair obscuring the light on his face, the angles look much more severe, and the gold of his irises damn near glow with their intensity.

What do you do? Do you fight back? Cold, brittle panic rises in your throat as you realize just what sort of position you're in. His hands are on either side of you, caging you in, and your legs have been rendered useless with his knees between them.

"Don't leave me," Even if his position gives him dominance, his voice is still pleading, desperate. "I-I need you. So please..."

"Rolan," You say carefully, voice tight, "Don't do anything you'll regret." You think to put your hands on his chest to keep him at bay, but fear touching him might send him into a frenzy.

"Regret...?" Rolan searches your face, trying to glean more understanding but seeming to come up short. "I don't regret adoring you."

He truly doesn't seem to understand the situation he's put you in. And perhaps you don't either, because your heart beats faster at his words, magic-induced as they may be. The initial fear you felt is now melting away into an uncertain excitement-- Rolan is on top of you, his knees pressed against your inner thighs, his lips parted and eyes glimmering with admiration. How many times have you dreamt of just this? How easy it would be to believe his sweet words, to believe that the man above you truly does want you.

"You don't." You're not sure if you're saying it more for his sake or yours. "Rolan, you don't adore me. You've been drugged and aren't thinking clearly." The words taste bitter, but you suppose truth often can be.

Rolan growls in frustration, and you hear his tail smack against something behind him.

"Why don't you believe me?" There's tension in his face, but it loosens as he shakes his head slowly, "What do I need to say for you to believe me?"

"You don't--"

"I do." Rolan drops from his hands onto his forearms, bringing your faces mere inches apart, "Fiercely."

Feeling his hot breath mixing with your own has your mind clouding over. All you can muster is the same two words.

"You don't..."

"Every day I look forward to you bringing me tea. To the point that I've been getting less work done, just waiting to see you." Rolan exhales harshly, in something like a disbelieving laugh, "Sometimes, I'll come downstairs just to watch you work. Just to catch another glimpse of you."

There's been plenty of times when you've been in the shop and caught him on the second floor balcony, but had he really been watching you? You'd always be too flustered to do nothing more than a cursory look before awkwardly continuing your work.

You don't have time to ponder it for too long because Rolan pushes on, his eyes commanding your attention with their fiery glow.

"I spend so many days sitting at my desk thinking of your smile....gods, and your laugh." He smiles at the memory, a soft, tender look that makes your stomach tumble, "The way your nose crinkles when you're really laughing. And the way you always fuss with your hair after you set a stack of books down."

Do you really do that?

Rolan's smile eases away. "And during everything with Loroakan, you always made sure I ate. And the washbasin under the desk-- you put that there for me, didn't you? So I could clean up after his beatings." His jaw clenches and a brief storminess darkens his eyes before softening, "You cared for me during that time, even when I pushed you away… I was horrible to you."

"You weren't horrible," You whisper, afraid your emotion will break your voice if you raise it any higher than this, "You were going through a lot."

He had been talking so coherently that you had almost forgotten the current situation, but reality comes crashing back when he whines deep in his throat and his body rocks above you.

"I don't deserve you," Rolan's body trembles and his eyes shine as they glance down at your lips, "You've shown me such kindness, and in return, I do nothing but defile you in my thoughts..."

His words catch you off guard to such an extent that you gasp--a breathy, deep noise that ignites Rolan's eyes. You've made a mistake. A very, very bad one.

"That's right," Rolan is matching your whisper now, body still impatiently rocking above you, "Every night I lie in bed thinking of you. Aching for you. You, under me... just like this." A groan rumbles deep in his chest and his nostrils flare, "Imagining how you'd say my name as I touch you. Taste you--" He practically hisses the word out as his body trembles, "Fucking my hand, wishing it was your pretty cunt stretched around me..."

"Rolan--" You practically wheeze, liquid fire rushing into your stomach as your hips jerk up from the floor, like they have a mind of their own.

"Yessss, ahh-- j-just like that," Rolan's eyes roll closed and his chest brushes yours as he lowers down. When his eyes flick back open, he almost seems like a different man. Starved-- that's the word that comes to your mind, and it's an apt one, with the way the tip of his tongue dips out and curls, as if tasting the air between you two. "Again...say it again."

Don't. Don't do it. Do not stoke the fire. The warning’s buzzing through your brain, but there's a larger presence in your thoughts, chanting for him to do something. To prove that he wants you. To make good on all of his sordid fantasies. Even if it's all a lie, even if it's the potion's spell, you want it. Even if you shouldn't, you do. But somehow, you're still hanging on by the thinnest of threads.

When it's clear that you aren't going to say his name, Rolan whines deep in his throat and you can hear his claws scrape against the carpet on either side of you. It seems that he's holding onto the same thread.

"Please," Rolan leans down and brushes a heated kiss against your lips, "Fuck, please--" Another kiss, "Please, please..."

He's kissing you. It's not a daydream, even if the warmth and softness of his lips don't feel real to you. All you can do is lay there, slack, your brain rapid-firing with the sensations. The hot, hurried puffs of his breath from his mouth. The tickles of his hanging hair on the sides of your cheeks. The press of his perfect nose against the side of your own.

Even if your shock-induced limpness is both involuntary and possibly the best course of action, it backfires on you almost immediately.

As Rolan's kisses grow firmer, his lips push yours open, making the wetness of your inner lip catch on his own. That little touch of heated moisture has Rolan mewling, and all at once, his tongue is inside your mouth.

Your eyes fly open (wait, when had they closed?) and your hands come up to Rolan's chest to push him away, but his muscles are taut and he's locked in place, his hot, hungry tongue pressing past your teeth to lick along your own tongue. The muffled sound you make is a mixture of panic and surprise, but Rolan seems to take it as pleasure with the way he moans in response.

But maybe he's not too far off the mark. Even if you want to deny it, his tongue is divine. The way it tastes, the velvet feel of it, the way it pushes in deep before pulling away with a wet roll of his lips, only to enter you again. It's like your mouth is being fucked by him, and it's all you can do to not tip completely into ecstacy.

"Stop--" You try to break the kiss by turning your head, but his mouth only finds the curve of your neck, "Stop, Ro--aah!" His sharp bottom teeth drag roughly under your jaw before being soothed with a hot, desperate lick. "Stop," You gasp, though your hands ball into his robes, begging him not to, "R-Rolan, you have to--"

Your words choke off into a shameful whine as Rolan finally gives in and lowers his body to press against yours. He slots in perfectly between your legs, his hard cock pressed firm against your aching sex. The both of you stiffen and freeze, as if mesmerized by the mutual throbbing you can feel from underneath your clothes.

"O-oh," Rolan almost looks drunk with the way his head sways and his eyes glaze over, "Oh g-gods...I can't--"

It should be a comfort to hear. At the brink of ruin, Rolan has managed to regain himself. But the sigh you let out--from relief or disappointment, you're not sure which-- is cut off on a choked gasp as Rolan yanks the bottom of your dress up.

"Wait--" Your hands fall between you both, tangling in your dress as you try to pull it back down, "Wait, R-Rolan!"

It's like he can no longer hear you. His shaking hands push the front of his robe to the side and nearly snaps the lacings of his pants as he tears them open. You only get a glimpse of his cock before he thrusts his hips forward, rubbing the heated length of it against your panties. But what a glimpse it was-- thick, ridged, and damn near maroon with how blood-swollen it is.

Your mind reels as you're assaulted both physically and mentally with Rolan's body. The heavy drag of his erection against your clothed pussy. The soft scrape of teeth and wet heat of his tongue trailing down your neck to your chest. And the sounds Rolan is making-- he's groaning with such intensity that it rumbles in your ribs.

"I can't..." Rolan says again, but after another grumbling moan, he finally finds the remainder of his words, "I can't hold back anymore..." He raises his head with a lust-drunk sway to lock eyes with you once more, his brow bunched with his desperation and loose strands of his hair sticking to the sheen of sweat on his forehead "I need you--fuck, I need you."

You want to get lost in those words, to savor the soft, needy delivery of them, to pretend that they were said under less dire circumstances, but you have no time for any of that. Because as soon as Rolan says it, his hand darts between you both and yanks your panties to the side and then you feel the maddening heat of his cock against the bare wetness of your pussy.

You try to cry out, but the sudden blast of fear racking through you grips your throat, only allowing a pitiful squeak to escape.

Please--" Rolan begins rutting into you, hips grinding fast and hungry, spreading your lips with his ministrations and easily gliding through the slick that's drenched your sex, "Wet, oh gods, so fucking wet--" He's babbling now, his words shifting between low groans and high, tight whimpers, "Wet for me-- you need this too, don't you? You need me...oh gods, need me to fuck you, f-fuck your pretty cunt, please--"

The head of his cock catches on your entrance, and you feel a pulse of hot liquid shoot from him, dribbling down your ass. Then all at once, he's inside you. It happens at a dizzying speed-- the deep burn of being stretched quick and full, the hot gush of semen, the snapping hips dragging you across the carpet in hiccuped jumps, the claws that grab and tear and sting your arms, all the while Rolan weeps, crumbling his body weight entirely on you.

"No," Rolan gasps in big, aching breaths as he sobs into your shoulder, "Nonono, I c-can't--" Hot tears fall on your neck, "Forgive me, p-please, forgive me--"

He raises his head and looks at you, his face twisted in equal parts despair and adoration, wet tear streaks carving shining paths down his gaunt cheeks. It's a direct contrast to the beastial breeding of his hips-- lovestruck emotion against mindless, animalistic instinct. And there's pain there, too. He came almost immediately, but his body just won't let him stop. His cock is still stiff and slamming into your cunt, the wetness of your sexes sucking and slapping lewdly under the chorus of his whimpers and cries.

A sob of your own retches from your throat. It's all too much. Even if it hurts, the churn of his desperate hips grinds against your clit with delicious abandon. And the way his hard cock curves and roughly drags inside of you, reaching so much farther than fingers ever could, stroking your walls with greedy need. It's all terrible in the most exquisite way-- the pain a sear, but the pleasure a rolling wave of heat that grows thicker and deeper with every thrust.

You're disgusted with yourself, even as you wrap your arms around Rolan's back and your heart sings with the warmth of his cheek against your own. You shouldn't be enjoying this. It was your responsibility to not let things get this far. But you wanted it. From the moment you knew what was happening, a part of you wanted exactly this. To have him cling onto you and tell you all the sweet things you've fantasized about countless times. To fuck you.

"Sorry," Your voice comes out in a hoarse whisper as the heated tension in your gut begins tipping through your body-- "I-I'm so s-sorry, R-Rolan--"

And then your world shatters away as your orgasm is wrenched from you. Every synapse in your brain goes cold and your body shakes and tightens, his name cried out through numb lips as you clench hard around him, your body as desperate as your mind to keep him right where he is. Rolan. Rolan. Rolan. Every part of your being is consumed by him in that moment, and nothing else matters. Nothing else exists, other than him.

"That's it," Rolan's voice finds you in your pleasure-haze and enhances it with it's sweet tremble, "That's it, yes--fuck, ahh-- please, love you," He buries himself in you and stills, lips meeting yours as he babbles and his cock twitches and throbs deep in your cunt, "I love you, o-oh-- love you, please--"

Your climax had begun it's descent, but the feeling of those words sighed into your mouth makes another rush of rapture overtake you. You're only somewhat aware of the way you mewl, a wounded noise that dwindles and rises as your tongue finds Rolan's once more. Even with the hard edge of his desires satisfied, Rolan kisses you with no less passion, his moans of relief rattling your bones with their sheer intensity.

You could happily lay there kissing him like this for eternity, but now that the warmth of your desire is ebbing away, reality is setting back in. Disgust curdles in your stomach, sapping away any last dredges of an afterglow that remained.

You turn your head to break the kiss and Rolan pulls back, his eyes still uncharacteristically dark but more level than they had been since you found him. But with the beginning return of his facilities, you can't help but feel that he looks...lost. You can see the weight of the situation slowly creeping over him-- the distress. But even still, there's still heat behind those despairing eyes. The understanding of what's happening, but not the strength to stop himself.

"D...do you feel better?" You croak out, your throat feeling a wreck.

Rolan's lips move, but his voice fails him. For the first time, his eyes willingly leave your face, focusing instead on the carpet beside you. "It...hurts." He finally manages, his words so soft that they're almost inaudible.

That's enough to finally move you into action. Your entire body aches as you gently guide him off of you, the both of you hissing as his cock slips from you with a wet squelch. Rolan makes no effort to get up, instead rolling onto his back to look up at the high ceiling of the tower. You can't help but think that he looks gorgeous like this--chest heaving, hair in disarray, cock still twitching and stiff and slick with you. And then the disgust comes back and propels you to your feet.

"Sorry," You stammer, a fresh bout of tears threatening to spill down your face, "I'll...I'll get help."

Rolan whines deep in the back of his throat before he can stop himself. He drapes a hand over his eyes, like he wishes to shut out the world.

"Please," He gasps, voice gravelly with suppressed emotion, "Hurry."

You start to walk down the stairs you had ascended only shortly before. Each trembling step you take brings you a fraction more into reality. Regret, horror, revulsion....they build in your gut with each passing moment. By the time you make it to the other side of the portal, you're running from the tower, wishing you had never gone up to begin with.

[merymoonbeam]

Possible Elriel plot points for the next ACOTAR book

First of all... I'm not saying this is all true. Just my own observation and link to theories that connect to stuff. So just try to enjoy.

We will go by topic. This is LONG. You have been warned.

1.Crossover

we will divide this into different topics.

a.the timeline

In Hosab Azriel carried Bryce to a house and we had this scene.

He gave no warning as he hauled her over a shoulder and tromped down a set of stairs before entering somewhere … nice-smelling. Roses? Bread? They ate bread in Hel? Had flowers? A dark, cold world, the Asteri had said in their notes on the planet.

We know it is town house. Here is the post that explains it. > Town House

And from Acosf we know that it was supposed to be empty.

“But why live in this dump, when the town house was sitting empty?” (Acosf)

but in Hofas when Rhys comes Bryce is taken to Hewn City prisons.

“What world is this?” Bryce rasped, the words gravelly. After Ruhn’s body double had introduced himself in that lovely, cozy foyer, he’d grabbed her hand. The strength of his grip, the brush of his calluses against her skin had been the only solid things as wind and darkness had roared around them, the world dropping away—and then there was only solid rock and dim lighting. She’d been brought to a palace carved beneath a mountain, and then down the narrow stairs to this dungeon. Where he’d pointed to the lone chair in the center of the room in silent command.

so we dont touch on the topic that the town house that was supposed to be empty is lived in and is smelling of roses and bread. So to me it looks like they are keeping the acotar plots in acotar and cc plots in cc. So they are not gonna reveal who lives in there in another series so...who lives there?

to me it looks like bryce falling into their world will be in the same timeline as acotar5. we will see through elain or azriel's(probably him) point of view what goes down.

b. the horn-fourth dread trove

In acosf we learn what they are.

Cassian nodded into the ensuing silence. Nesta found herself asking, “What’s the Dread Trove?” Amren’s eyes glowed with a remnant of her power. “The Cauldron Made many objects of power, long ago, forging weapons of unrivaled might. Most were lost to history and war, and when I went into the Prison, only three remained. At the time, some claimed there were four, or that the fourth had been Unmade, but today’s legends only tell of three.”

and in the same book we learn there is indeed a fourth one.

A fourth object lay on the altar, veiled in shadow. But she couldn’t make out more than a gleam of age-worn bone—

in hofas we learn that it is the horn. (ngl I hate this bc acosf timeline and hofas timeline of the past doesnt match so sarah def changed some stuff so..........)

And then she took the Trove for herself. Theia sat, enthroned, the Harp and Horn beside her, the Mask in her lap, and the Crown atop her head.

again goes with the whole same timeline thing. we are gonna learn through elain or azriel that fourth dread trove is tattooed on some girl from another world. Again imo this needs to be mentioned bc making dread troves a big part of nesta's book(and making them so dangerous) and in the next book acting as if some other girl having is not important?? doesnt make sense to me.

c. Cauldron and Ramiel

in hofas we learn that Cauldron sits on top of Ramiel.

“The Cauldron,” Nesta said hours later, pointing to yet another carving on the wall. It indeed showed a giant cauldron, perched atop what seemed to be a barren mountain peak with three stars above it. Azriel halted, angling his head. “That’s Ramiel.” At Bryce’s questioning look, he explained, “A mountain sacred to the Illyrians.”

And from Acosf we know that nobody went to look at what lies under ramiel. Sure enough Eris says "secrets". Maybe like daglan secrets???

Eris shrugged, and Nesta knew Cassian monitored his every breath. “There are three of them, you know. Sister peaks. This one, the mountain called the Prison, and the one the Illyrian brutes call Ramiel. All bald, barren mountains at odds with those around them.”

Eris gave him a mocking smile, but continued, “Unsurprisingly, the Illyrians were never curious enough to see what secrets lie beneath Ramiel. If it, too, was carved up like the others by ancient hands.”

and Vesperus says this in hofas.

Vesperus backed up a half step, hissing at the gleaming weapon. “We hid pockets of our power throughout the lands, in case the vermin should cause … problems. It seems our wisdom did not fail us.” “There are no such places,” Azriel countered coldly. “Are there not?” Vesperus grinned broadly, showing all of her too-white teeth. “Have you looked beneath every sacred mountain? At their very roots? The magic draws all sorts of creatures. I can sense them even now, slithering about, gnawing on the magic. My magic. They’re as much vermin as the rest of you.”

What if there is more to under ramiel than we thought? What if its a secret Daglan hideout? I went into detail and what could have inspired it in my Wild Hunt post if you want to read it.

also the red part in thw quote...cue in acowar elain:

Elain only turned toward the sunny windows again, the light dancing in her hair. “Will I hear the earthworms writhing through the soil? Or the stretching of roots? Will the bird of fire come to sit in the trees and watch me?”(acowar)

we learn that Asteri corrupted the Cauldron in hofas. So this come in handy for the whole mating bond topic of this whole post so Im leaving it for that.

The Cauldron was of our world, our heritage. But upon arriving here, the Daglan captured it and used their powers to warp it. To turn it from what it had been into something deadlier. No longer just a tool of creation, but of destruction. And the horrors it produced … those, too, my parents would turn to their advantage.(hofas)

Also we know from acosf that Enalius tried to stop the "enemy" from reaching the stone on top of Ramiel.

Emerie’s eyes shone. “Long ago—so long ago they don’t even have a precise date for it—a great war was fought between the Fae and the ancient beings who oppressed them. One of its key battles was here, in these mountains. Our forces were battered and outnumbered, and for some reason, the enemy was desperate to reach the stone at the top of Ramiel. We were never taught the reason why; I think it’s been forgotten. But a young Illyrian warrior named Enalius held the line against the enemy soldiers for days. He found a natural archway of stone amongst the tangle of boulders and made that his bottleneck. He died in the end, but he held off the enemy long enough for our allies to reach us. This Rite is all to honor him. So much of the history has been lost, but the memory of his bravery remains.”

so probably they were trying to reach cauldron as it was on top of it. Or maybe the ramiel stone as it seems to heal too. I did go into whole detail in the post I linked about wild hunt. also in this one

Also in the first three acotar books we learn about Book of breathings.

In acomaf we learn that book of breathings was made to control the cauldron.

“When the Cauldron was made,” the carver interrupted, “its dark maker used the last of the molten ore to forge a book. The Book of Breathings. In it, written between the carved words, are the spells to negate the Cauldron’s power—or control it wholly. But after the War, it was split into two pieces. One went to the Fae, one to the six human queens. It was part of the Treaty, purely symbolic, as the Cauldron had been lost for millennia and considered mere myth. The Book was believed harmless, because like calls to like—and only that which was Made can speak those spells and summon its power. No creature born of the earth may wield it, so the High Lords and humans dismissed it as little more than a historical heirloom, but if the Book were in the hands of something reforged … You would have to test such a theory, of course—but … it might be possible.” (acomaf)

So...only made can use its magic.

Made = Feyre , Nesta and Elain

And later in the book we learn that the book is written in Holy Tongue—Leshon Hakodesh.

She stared and stared at the Book—as if it were a ghost, as if it were a miracle—and said, “It is the Leshon Hakodesh. The Holy Tongue.” Those quicksilver eyes shifted to Rhysand, and I realized she’d understood, too, why she’d gone. Rhysand said, “I heard a legend that it was written in a tongue of mighty beings who feared the Cauldron’s power and made the Book to combat it. Mighty beings who were here … and then vanished. You are the only one who can uncode it.” (acomaf)

Mighty beings: Daglan/Asteri

and in hofas we learn that...It is written in the language of the asteri.

Amren turned to Rhysand and said in that new, strange language—their language: “The glowing letters inked on her back … they’re the same as those in the Book of Breathings.” (hofas)

Bryce's tattoo is in the holy language.

And later in hofas Rigelus says that it was his people's language.

“I can teach you things you’ve never even dreamed of,” Rigelus promised. “The language inked on your back—it is our language. From our home world. I can teach you how to wield it. Any world might be open to you, Bryce Quinlan. Name the world, and it shall be yours.”(hofas)

So the book of breathings can control cauldron and it can "open any world" to who can wield it.

and in the first crescent city book...the book of breathings is in crescent city world. In jesiba's library.

Micah loomed over her. She stretched her arm out—toward the shelf. Her tingling fingers brushed over the titles. On the Divine Number; The Walking Dead; The Book of Breathings; The Queen with Many Faces …

do we need book of breathings back as it was mentioned it is in the language of the asteri?

Also in acowar we learn that cauldron has void in it.

when Feyre broke the Cauldron void was coming out of it.

I managed to stand. To take one step before I felt it. The … thing in the Cauldron. Or lack of it. It was lack and substance, absence and presence. And … it was leaking into the world.I dared a step toward it. And what I beheld in those ruins of the Cauldron… It was a void. But also not a void—a growth.It did not belong here. Belong anywhere. (acowar)

And then this reminded me of what Apollion said about void in hosab

The darkness paused. “You are impertinent as well. Do you not know where I come from? My father was the Void, the Being That Existed Before. Chaos was his bride and my dam. It is to them that we shall all one day return, and their mighty powers that run in my blood.”

@silverlinedeyes made a post about Void and Elain connection awhile back (that’s where my fascination with the void comes from lololl) > The void post

in Hofas we learn that Daglan/Asteri made the Cauldron a kill switch.

“Once we left our home world, our powers began to dim. Too late, we realized that we had been dependent on our land’s inherent magic. The magic in other worlds was not potent enough. Yet we could not find the way back home. Those of us who ventured here found ways to amplify that power, thanks to the gifts of the land. We pooled our power, and imbued those gifts into the Cauldron so that it would work our will. We Made the Trove from it. And then bound the very essence of the Cauldron to the soul of this world.” Solas. “So destroy the Cauldron …” “And you destroy this world. One cannot exist without the other.”

So in hofas we learned about thin places...

“No,” Aidas agreed. “But Helena knew that Midgard possessed its own magic. A raw, weaker sort of magic than that in her home world, but one that could be potent in high concentrations. She learned that it flowed across the world in great highways, natural conduits for magic.” “Ley lines,” Bryce breathed. Aidas nodded. “These lines are capable of moving magic, but also carrying communications across great distances.” Like those between the Gates of Crescent City, the way she’d spoken to Danika the day she’d made the Drop. “There are ley lines across the whole of the universe. And the planets—like Midgard, like Hel, like the home world of the Fae—atop those lines are joined by time and space and the Void itself. It thins the veils separating us. The Asteri have long chosen worlds that are on the ley lines for that exact purpose. It made it easier to move between them, to colonize those planets. There are certain places on each of these worlds where the most ley lines overlap, and thus the barrier between worlds is at its weakest.” Everything slotted together. “Thin places,” Bryce said with sudden certainty. “Precisely,” Apollion answered for Aidas with an approving nod. “The Northern Rift, the Southern Rift—both lie atop a tremendous knot of ley lines. And while those under Avallen are not as strong, the island is unique as a thin place thanks to the presence of black salt—which ties it to Hel.” “And the mists?” Hunt asked. “What’s the deal with them?” “The mists are a result of the ley lines’ power,” Aidas said. “They’re an indication of a thin place. Hoping to find a ley line strong enough to help her transfer and hide Theia’s power, Helena sent a fleet of Fae with earth magic to scour every misty place they could find on Midgard. When they told her of a place wreathed in mists so thick they could not pierce them, Helena went to investigate. The mists parted for her—as if they had been waiting. She found the small network of caves on Avallen … and the black salt beneath the surface.” (hofas)

It is long but what we get from this is that

Ley lines are used for moving magic and...communication between worlds

Ley lines are joined by time and space and void

The mist is a big give away for thin places

you get the point. this all seem to be connected. thin places-cauldron-void. I talked more about this in this post

d. the middle and fionn

fionn died in the middle.

The image shifted to some sort of marsh—a bog. Fionn rode a horse between the islands of grass, bow at the ready as he ducked beneath trees in bloom. My parents often went hunting in the vast slice of land the Daglan had kept for their private game park, where they had crafted terrible monsters to serve as worthy prey. It was there that he met his death. A dark-haired, pale creature that could have been the relative of the nøkk in Jesiba’s gallery dragged a bound and gagged Fionn into the inky depths of the bog, the once-proud king screaming as he went under. Horror rooted Bryce to the spot. Theia and Pelias stood at the water’s edge, faces impassive. Petals began falling from the trees. Leaves with them. Birds took flight. As if sudden winter gripped the bog. As if the land had died with its king.(hofas)

Acowar elain

Devlon let out a grunt at the sight of her. But Elain wrapped her own blue cloak around herself, averting her eyes from all of those towering, muscled warriors, the army camp bustling toward the horizon … She was a rose bloom in a mud field. Filled with galloping horses.

Acosf the middle

Islands of grass dotted the expanse, some so crowded with brambles that he could find no safe place to land. The tangles of thorns were a mockery of what might have been—as if Oorid had ever produced roses. Not a single flower bloomed.

Hofas bog when fionn died

Fionn rode a horse between the islands of grass, bow at the ready as he ducked beneath trees in bloom. My parents often went hunting in the vast slice of land the Daglan had kept for their private game park, where they had crafted terrible monsters to serve as worthy prey. It was there that he met his death. A dark-haired, pale creature that could have been the relative of the nøkk in Jesiba’s gallery dragged a bound and gagged Fionn into the inky depths of the bog, the once-proud king screaming as he went under. Horror rooted Bryce to the spot. Theia and Pelias stood at the water’s edge, faces impassive. Petals began falling from the trees. Leaves with them. Birds took flight. As if sudden winter gripped the bog. As if the land had died with its king.(hofas)

So elain and the middle???

Also another point is...the avallen island was like the prison island because Helena hid 1/3 of theia's power there and once bryce claimed that power...the island went back to what it was.

Helena had bound the soul of this land in magical chains. No more. No more would Bryce allow the Fae to lay claim over anything. “You’re free,” Bryce whispered to Avallen, to the land and the pure, inherent magic beneath it. “Be free.” And it was.

It was no longer gray and thrashing, but a vibrant, clear turquoise. And rising from the water, just as they had seen on the map Declan had found, were islands, large and small. Lush and green with life. Forests erupted on the island they stood on, soon joined by mountains and rivers.

So what if fionn did the same before he died? What if the middle is the way it is bc before he died...he bound himself to it so the magic of the land was bound?

And we need elain to free the land? As bryce did to avallen?

also Fionn's death goes so well with lightsinger describtion in acosf. also it ties to pelias.

Me and @silverlinedeyes have theorized before that Pelias might have been a lightsinger in this post.

In hofas we learn that Fionn died like this:

The image shifted to some sort of marsh—a bog. Fionn rode a horse between the islands of grass, bow at the ready as he ducked beneath trees in bloom. My parents often went hunting in the vast slice of land the Daglan had kept for their private game park, where they had crafted terrible monsters to serve as worthy prey. It was there that he met his death. A dark-haired, pale creature that could have been the relative of the nøkk in Jesiba’s gallery dragged a bound and gagged Fionn into the inky depths of the bog, the once-proud king screaming as he went under. Horror rooted Bryce to the spot. Theia and Pelias stood at the water’s edge, faces impassive. Petals began falling from the trees. Leaves with them. Birds took flight. As if sudden winter gripped the bog. As if the land had died with its king

Lets break this down...

Fionn and his close people. One of them is his lover and the other is his general

In the bog

Asteri private game park

The last thing he sees is their faces after they betray him

Now how this ties to Pelias and Lightsingers...

This is how lightsingers are described in acosf:

“There are lightsingers: lovely, ethereal beings who will lure you, appearing as friendly faces when you are lost. Only when you’re in their arms will you see their true faces, and they aren’t fair at all. The horror of it is the last thing you see before they drown you in the bog. But they kill for sport, not food.”

Now lets break this down...

Friendly faces

Bog

For sport...not food... private game park

The last thing you see is their faces

Another point is...Silene and Helena both have shadow and starborn power. so them getting the starborn from theia and shadow from fionn makes a lot of sense.

So fionn's death being similar to lightsinger describtion when fionn could have shadow powers...like azriel who is a shadowsinger...you know what I mean? kinda weird lol.

lightsinger gwyn theory @silverlinedeyes made wonderfull posts about it. You can find them >> Part1 and Part2

I have some lightsinger theories too if you want.

Gwyn’s song and Cauldron’s song(lightsinger theory)

Azriel bonus chapter “settled/settling”(Lightsinger theory)

Azriel’s Bonus Chapter “glowed quietly”(Lightsinger theory)

Acosf Chapter 52 - Lightsinger Theory-Sirens

Glow=Power(lightsinger theory)

e. wild hunt being released?? 

In cc3 bryce said this:

“I think it’s what the Prison—the island in the Fae’s home world—once was. When Theia ruled it, I mean. Before Silene fucked it all up. Maybe they’re linked in some way through being thin places and spilled over to each other a bit. Maybe back in that other world … maybe I woke up the land around the Prison, too.”

Maybe I woke up the land around the Prison too

And we know that Silene captured Daglan's pet in prison. 👀

One after another, I hunted monsters—the remaining pets of the Daglan—until many of the lowest rooms were filled with them. Until my once-beautiful home became a prison. Until even the land was so disgusted by the evil I’d gathered here that the islands shriveled and the earth became barren. The winged horses who hadn’t gone with my mother to Midgard, who had once flown in the skies, playing in the surf … they were nearly gone. Not a single living soul remained, except for the monstrosities in the mountain.

And from acosf we know that Lanthys was one of them and he was in...Wild Hunt.

“Oh, I do not think so,” Lanthys seethed. “I rode in the Wild Hunt before you were even a scrap of existence, witch from Oorid. I summoned the hounds and the world cowered at their baying. I galloped at the head of the Hunt, and Fae and beast bowed before us.”

So if bryce did indeed woke up the land around prison that means it could be all crumbled like it was in avallen. Are the inmates going to be free? Are the wild hunt going to be in acotar5? Are we getting a full on wild hunt plot?

Also this goes well with the books being in the same timeline so what happens in cc affects acotar in a bad way.

f. Gwydion and Truth-Teller

They are white and dark light—Alpha and Omega.(I have a post about this) which came true lol. my best theory....

The male drew it, and Bryce flinched, but—“What the fuck?” The knife could have been the twin of the Starsword: black hilted and bladed. It was its twin. The Starsword began to hum within its sheath, glittering white light leaking from where leather met the dark hilt. The dagger— The male dropped the dagger to the plush carpet. All of them retreated as it flared with dark light, as if in answer. Alpha and Omega. “Gwydion,” the dark-haired female whispered, indicating the Starsword.

And whats important is that with her power bryce can unite them to open a portal to nowhere.

Polaris’s eyes widened as Bryce plunged the blades into her chest. And as those blades thrust through skin and bone, the star in Bryce’s own chest flared out to meet them. It collided with the blades, and both sword and knife blazed bright, as if white-hot. The light extended up through Bryce’s hands, her arms, her body, turning her incandescent— Into a star. A sun.

that portal to nowhere is...void.

A portal to nowhere. To a black hole. Wasn’t that the unholy power that Apollion possessed? The power of the Void. The antithesis of light.

so this connects with Cauldron and it having void in it too.

as bryce collects Theia's power that was parted into three parts she starts to realize it is taking a touch of darkness...

Bryce rolled her eyes, but for a heartbeat, Hunt wondered if Thanatos was right: Bryce had explained how the prism in the Autumn King’s office had revealed her light to now be laced with darkness, as if it had become the fading light of day, of twilight—

And we go to that scene...

With a prayer to Cthona, she sent twin beams of light arcing around the prisms, shooting straight into them.Twin bursts of that light flared from either prism, gunning for each other. Bands of light falling into darkness, her power stripped to its most elemental, basic form. They shot for each other, and where they met, light and darkness and darkness and light slamming into each other—Bryce stepped into the explosion in the heart of it. Stepped into her power.It lit her up from the inside, lit up her very blood. Her hair drifted above her head, pens and papers and other office detritus flowing upward with it. Such light and darkness—the power lay in the meeting of the two of them. She understood it now, how the darkness shaped the light.

And the purple highlighted part...it is exactly the same as the six pointed star.

Ithan angled his head. “A six-pointed star,” he said. Like the one Bryce had made between the Gates this spring, with the seventh candle at its center. “It’s a symbol of balance,” she explained, moving away a foot, but keeping the dagger at her side. Her crown of cloudberries seemed to glow with an inner light. “Two intersecting triangles. Male and female, dark and light, above and below … and the power that lies in the place where they meet.”

And if we go by the elriel scene...

Elain looked up at Azriel, their eyes meeting, his hand still lingering on the hilt of the blade. I saw the painting in my mind: the lovely fawn, blooming spring vibrant behind her. Standing before Death, shadows and terrors lurking over his shoulder. Light and dark, the space between their bodies a blend of the two. The only bridge of connection … that knife.

Can you see the connection?

Also that elemental part in bryce's scene. we learn about that in acosf.

Cassian forced himself to sit perfectly still as Rhys dragged a hand through his black hair. “Once, the High Fae were more elemental, more given to reading the stars and crafting masterpieces of art and jewelry and weaponry. Their gifts were rawer, more connected to nature, and they could imbue objects with that power.”

could that be important in acotar? Having elemental magic?

also...TT can unmade things. could this come in handy in mating bond plot?

“The Starsword is Made, as you called it.” He waved an idle hand, sparks at his fingertips. “The knife can Unmake things. Made and Unmade. Matter and antimatter. With the right influx of power—a command from the one destined to wield them—they can be merged. And they can create a place where no life, no light exists. A place that is nothing. Nowhere.”

and now we have both of them in Acotar.

Nesta lifted her head. “So?” “So I want you to take the Starsword.” Bryce held the blade between them. “Gwydion—whatever you call it here. The age of the Starborn is over on Midgard. It ends with me.” “I don’t understand.” But Bryce began backing toward the portal, taking Hunt’s hand, and smiled again at the female, at her mate, at their world, as the Northern Rift began to close. “I think that eight-pointed star was tattooed on you for a reason. Take that sword and go figure out why.”

as we all know...Elain already used TT.

But as a black blade broke through the king’s throat, spraying blood, I realized someone else had. Elain stepped out of a shadow behind him, and rammed Truth-Teller to the hilt through the back of the king’s neck as she snarled in his ear, “Don’t you touch my sister.”

And we know from Bryce that knife has some kind of shadow powers.

Bryce threw her power into the Starsword, light ripping through the black blade, willing it to tear this fucking monster apart—She willed it into Truth-Teller, and shadows flowed—

elain...shadow...as I mentioned above fionn possibly had shadow powers as well. So it all connects. Because Fionn had Gwydion. Enalius had TT. it all seems to line up.

okay we are done with crossover part. I think. I added as much as I could. moving onto another topic.

Im adding narben as a topic here bc we dont have much to go on but I made a deep dive for it in this post from myth connections and all if you want to read it.

Also side not...narben means scar. Azriel's scars....thats all your honor.

2. Beron

But no one had been able to decide which was the bigger threat for them: Briallyn and Koschei, or Beron’s willingness to ally with them. While the Night Court had been trying to make the peace permanent, the bastard had been doing his best to start another war.

What’s better way to star a war over a female who is a cauldron made seer and also his son’s mate but doesn’t want to be with him?

And from Azriel bonus chapter we know that Blood duel is an autumn court tradition.

“Oh, I can, and I will. If Lucien finds out you're pursuing her, he has every right to defend their bond as he sees fit. Including invoking the Blood Duel.” "That's an Autumn Court tradition." The battle to the death was so brutal that it was only enacted in rare cases.

rare cases: for a cauldron made seer

Cassian said, “So we’ve got them on one front, and Beron here, ready and eager to go into war with Briallyn so he might expand his own territory after the carnage halts.”

he wants to expand his territory

Cassian unpacked each word. Beron had tortured his own son for information, rather than thanking the Mother for returning him. But Eris had held out. Fed Beron another lie.

The male had been raised with every luxury and privilege —on paper. But who knew what terrors Beron had inflicted upon him? Cassian knew Beron had murdered Lucien’s lover. If the High Lord of Autumn had been willing to do that, what wouldn’t he do?

Beron is so power hungry that he tortured his own son and he killed his son's lover because she was lesser-fae?

What would he do if he learns that Elain rejected the bond with Lucien because of a lesser-fae(illyrians are lesser fae)?

He already wants war and this would be his reason.

and we know from eris that Beron might as well make a new allience with Koschei after Briallyn is dead.

“Maybe not.” Eris shifted on his feet, and grimaced again. “But you and yours have more important things to think about than ancient history. My father is furious that his ally is dead, but he’s not deterred. Koschei remains in play, and Beron might very well be stupid enough to establish an alliance with him, too. I hope that whatever Morrigan is doing in Vallahan will counteract the damage my father will unleash.”

so...beron. lol.

3. Koschei

Elain already had visions about him in acowar.

Elain shifted her face toward him. Another blink. “They sold her—to … to some darkness, to some … sorcerer-lord …” She shook her head. “I can never see him. What he is. There is an onyx box that he possesses, more vital than anything … save for them. The girls. He keeps other girls—others so like her—but she … By day, she is one form, by night, human again.” “A bird of burning feathers,” I said. “Firebird by day,” Rhys mused, “woman by night … So she’s held captive by this sorcerer-lord?” Elain shook her head. “I don’t know. I hear her—her screaming. With rage. Utter rage …” She shuddered. Mor leaned forward. “Do you know why the other queens cursed her—sold her to him?” Elain studied the table. “No. No—that is all mist and shadow.” Rhys blew out a breath. “Can you sense where she is?” “There is … a lake. Deep in—in the continent, I think. Hidden amongst mountains and ancient forests.” Elain’s throat bobbed. “He keeps them all at the lake.” “Other women like her?” “Yes—and no. Their feathers are white as snow. They glide across the water—while she rages through the skies above it.”

and in acosf we learn that Koschei wants free of his lake but we don't know his other plans

“And all Koschei wants is to be free from his lake?” Rhys asked Azriel. But Amren answered. “No one really knows the full scope of the Trove’s powers. Beyond freeing him from his lake, Koschei may very well know something about the Trove that we don’t —some greater power that manifests when all three are united.”

and he might know things about the trove that nobody knows.

And in hofas we learned this about the harp:

She gave us what protection her magic could offer, transferring it from her body into our own using the Harp. Another secret she had learned from her long-ago masters: that the Harp could not only move its bearer through the world, but move things from one place to another—even move magic from her soul to ours.

Move things from one place to another—even move magic from her soul to ours

and in most koschei tales there is a thing about his...death.

The most common feature of tales involving Koschei is a spell which prevents him from being killed. He hides "his death" inside nested objects to protect it. For example, his death may be hidden in a needle that is hidden inside an egg, the egg is in a duck, the duck is in a hare, the hare is in a chest, the chest is buried or chained up on a far island. Usually he takes the role of a malevolent rival figure, who competes for (or entraps) a male hero's love interest.

maybe he wanted the dread troves for the purpose of his death? Can I bet that koschei moved his "death" from his body using the harp?

Also in that elain quote from acowar elain mentions a box.

While rereading the acotar books I noticed something.

Book of Breathings is described as a box.

The box would be heavy—and cold. Who are you, who are you, who are you— I flexed my fingers and cracked my neck. I am summer; I am sea and sun and green things. “Come on, come on,” Amren murmured. Above, water trickled over the stones. Who are you, who are you, who are you— I am Tarquin; I am High Lord; I am your master. The box quieted. As if that were answer enough. I snatched the box off the pedestal, the metal biting into my hands, the power an oily smear through my blood. An ancient, cruel voice hissed: Liar. And the door slammed shut.(Acomaf)

The box—the Book—was silent. Then it said, Like calls to like. “Open,” I gritted out. Unmade and Made; Made and Unmade—that is the cycle. Like calls to like.(Acomaf)

And we have Koschei's onyx box which we know from Elain. And koschei is a...sorcerer.

Elain shifted her face toward him. Another blink. “They sold her—to … to some darkness, to some … sorcerer-lord …” She shook her head. “I can never see him. What he is. There is an onyx box that he possesses, more vital than anything … save for them. The girls. He keeps other girls—others so like her—but she … By day, she is one form, by night, human again.” (acowar)

so what if it is not a box but a book???

4. Mating bond

Since acowar this has been a question. There are a lot of theories and idea about how sarah would go with this. True mates. Two mating bond. Some of us think elriel has carranam bond... There is so many theories

Elain sat silently at one of the wrought-iron tables, a cup of tea before her. Azriel was sprawled on the chaise longue across the gray stones, sunning his wings and reading what looked to be a stack of reports—likely information on the Autumn Court that he planned to present to Rhys once he’d sorted through it all. Already dressed for the Hewn City—the brutal, beautiful armor so at odds with the lovely garden. And my sister sitting within it. “Why not make them mates?” I mused. “Why Lucien?” “I’d keep that question from Lucien.” “I’m serious.” I turned toward him and crossed my arms. “What decides it? Who decides it?”

Feyre was the first to question the mating bond between Elain and Lucien. This scene is important because she is questioning the mating bond while looking at Azriel and Elain.

And we again see in the bonus that azriel questions the mating bond.

Rhys's power rippled through the room like a dark cloud. "I’m talking about you, about to kiss Elain, in the middle of a hall where anyone could see you," he snarled. "Including her mate." Azriel stiffened. Let his cold rage rise to the surface, the rage he only ever let Rhysand see, because he knew his brother could match it.  "What if the Cauldron was wrong?"

And we see through out the books that Elain and Lucien are not even getting closer. Both of them are uncomfortable with the mating bond.

He hadn’t mentioned Elain, or his proximity to her. Elain had not asked him to stay, or to go. And whether she cared about the bruises on his face, she certainly hadn’t let on.

Elain, at least, would be too polite to send Lucien away when he wanted to help. She was too polite to send him away on a normal day. She just ignored him or barely spoke to him until he got the hint and left. As far as I knew, he hadn’t come within touching distance since the aftermath of that final battle.

“You’re welcome to stay for the night,” I said, since Elain certainly wasn’t going to. Lucien lowered his hands into his lap and leaned back in the armchair. “Thank you, but I have other plans.” I prayed he didn’t catch the slightly relieved glimmer on Elain’s face.

“Why are you here?” Cassian asked, unable to help the sharpness. “Where’s Elain?” “I am not always in this city to see my mate.” The last two words dripped with discomfort. “And I came up here because Feyre said I should. I need to kill a few hours before I’m to meet with her and Rhys. She thought I might enjoy seeing Nesta at work.”

He and Lucien did not exchange gifts, though the male had brought a gift for Feyre and one for his mate, who barely thanked him after opening the pearl earrings. Cassian’s heart strained at the pain etching deep into Lucien’s face as he tried to hide his disappointment and longing. Elain only shrank further into herself, no trace of that newfound boldness to be seen.

Also I mentioned above how TT can unmade things...so can it unmade a mating bond? also it ties into Cauldron too bc....as we know it is corrupted by the asteri. @offtorivendell made a post about how asteri might have messed with mating bonds.

Also lets not forget this iconic quote.

Azriel stiffened. Let his cold rage rise to the surface, the rage he only ever let Rhysand see, because he knew his brother could match it.  "What if the Cauldron was wrong?"  Rhysand blinked. "What of Mor, Az?"  Azriel ignored the question. "The Cauldron chose three sisters. Tell me how it's possible that my two brothers are with two of those sisters, yet the third was given to another." He had never before dared speak  the words aloud.

I'm gonna drop a few mating bond theories in here if you want to read it. Elain and Lucien mating bond is a spell by @icedflames

True mates theory by @silverlinedeyes

mating bond and bridges by @silverlinedeyes with my reblog.

@offtorivendell has many posts about mating bond you can find it here

Would a mate know, would a mate feel— by me

“Through love, all is possible” by me

5. Elain and Azriel’s powers

as I mentioned above...fionn could have a shadow power like azriel.

This is just a speculation but in hofas Silene gave this information.

My mother eventually trusted only Helena and myself to seek the truth. She knew we could be of great use to her, because we bore the shadows as well as starlight.

Helena and Silene both have shadow and starlight power.

Theia= starborn

So they got the starlight power from Theia. They must have gotten their shadow power from Fionn then? Bc he is their father.

So this made me think...in mythology fionn is a seer.

Fionn mac Cumhaill often anglicized Finn McCool or MacCool, is a hero in Irish mythology, as well as in later Scottish and Manx folklore. He is the leader of the Fianna bands of young roving hunter-warriors, as well as being a seer and poet. He is said to have a magic thumb that bestows him with great wisdom. He is often depicted hunting with his hounds Bran and Sceólang, and fighting with his spear and sword. The tales of Fionn and his fiann form the Fianna Cycle or Fenian Cycle (an Fhiannaíocht), much of it narrated by Fionn's son, the poet Oisín.

So what if...fionn in acotar was also a seer? What if that's how elain and azriel are also connected?

Bc that would mean...

Fionn: a seer and shadow powers

Elain: a seer

Azriel: shadowsinger

Is that how they are connected? Is that how elain could use the tt? 👀👀

Bc we know tt and gwydion are twin to each other. And Gwydion was Fionn's sword. Tt was his friend's—Enalius.

And in acowar elain used tt. Maybe bc that's the reason why. Maybe being a seer has some kind of connection to it. Just like being a starborn is connected to wielding the gwydion and its powers.

But as a black blade broke through the king’s throat, spraying blood, I realized someone else had. Elain stepped out of a shadow behind him, and rammed Truth-Teller to the hilt through the back of the king’s neck as she snarled in his ear, “Don’t you touch my sister.”

And we know from Bryce that knife has some kind of shadow powers.

Bryce threw her power into the Starsword, light ripping through the black blade, willing it to tear this fucking monster apart—She willed it into Truth-Teller, and shadows flowed—

As we know Elain is a seer. But there is more to her powers than just being a seer.

@wingedblooms made a post about how when it's mentioned it's always in plural form. >> Elain’s Powers

And with her seer powers she can be a good spy and we can see that Sarah hinted this acosf.

“You came,” Elain said behind her, and Nesta started, not having heard her sister approach. She scanned Elain from head to toe, wondering if she’d been taking lessons in stealth either from Azriel or the two half-wraiths she called friends.

the red part I highlighted in this has a parallel with Azriel you can find the post here >> azriel/elain parallel

And we know that N+C are trained by Azriel.

Amren, at least, knocked this time before entering. Nuala and Cerridwen, who had finished setting combs of mother-of-pearl into my hair, took one look at the delicate female and vanished into puffs of smoke. “Skittish things,” Amren said, her red lips cutting a cruel line. “Wraiths always are.” “Wraiths?” I twisted in the seat before the vanity. “I thought they were High Fae.” “Half,” Amren said, surveying my turquoise, cobalt, and white clothes. “Wraiths are nothing but shadow and mist, able to walk through walls, stone—you name it. I don’t even want to know how those two were conceived. High Fae will stick their cocks anywhere.” I choked on what could have been a laugh or a cough. “They make good spies.” “Why do you think they’re now whispering in Azriel’s ear that I’m in here?” “I thought they answered to Rhys.” “They answer to both, but they were trained by Azriel first.”

another thing is that we know azriel is good at keeping secret and here we have feyre pointing out elain has him beat

Feyre smiled. “Elain was the only one who guessed. She caught me vomiting two mornings in a row.” She nodded toward Azriel. “I think she’s got you beat for secret-keeping."

also now that we have crossover with CC books, there are mystics and it looks like Elain's seer powers and mystics are very similar one another. I talked about that in the post that I'd linked. Also with Elain's seer powers I made a theory about how the timeline could work if Sarah took inspo from a poem from the Norse Mythology called Völuspa. Another thing is there is a magic called Seidr in Norse mythology which I think Sarah might have of gotten inspiration for Elain's powers. It also connects with Vassa(and a little bit crossover) and her possible plotline.

I think this is all I got.

if you read this much....THANKS.

bye now. :)

[riya-kaur]

calum thomas hood

summary: everyone knows about the crush you and calum have on each other, but still, the two off you brush it off. calum thinks hiding his feelings by acting differently will help him get over you, but it doesn't.

cw! swearing!

eight years.

part two!

december had quickly approached by, which meant soon it would be everyone's favourite holiday: christmas.

this year, you had decided to tag along to a ski retreat with ashton, mali-koa, and your absolute favourite person in the world- calum hood.

you had first heard about this weekend trip on thanksgiving, when everyone had gathered round michael's to celebrate his newborns' first thanksgiving.

after your interest was peaked, you decided to ask if you could tag along, and ashton and mali jumped with joy accepting, whereas calum stayed stone-cold.

so nearly a month had passed, the car that was parked outside your house, honking impatiently.

"fuck" you muttered as you sat on your suitcase, hoping to press down some of the weight. your hands pulled at the zipper, you let out a sigh as you continued to tug on it.

"you're gonna break it" a deep, familiar voice says from behind you. you turn your head, meeting calum's soft eyes as he leant against the door frame with a cigarette in his hand.

"can you make yourself useful then, and help?" you sneer as you throw your hands up in the air. calum chuckles before he walks past you. his steps stop once he reaches your window. he takes his cigarette from between his lips and burns it out before tossing it outside.

"move" he nods his head to the side.

you sigh as you stand up from the suitcase, taking the same position on your bed.

your eyes observe calum as he kneels down beside your suitcase, "you sure there's nothing you can avoid taking?" he asks as you he lifts up the top of the case.

your eyes fall onto calum as he lingers a stare on your clothing that lay at the top; swimsuits and your underwear.

flustered, you reach over and shut the top of the case, "nope"

calum shakes his head before muttering something under his breath. he places a heavy hand on the top of the case, forcefully pushing down as his other hand found the zipper. in a swift movement, his hand pulls around the case, zipping it close.

"easy" calum retorts. he stands up and lifts the suitcase up onto its' wheels, "can we go now?" he asks, you nod before thanking him. the two of you make your way out of your house, and you lock it from the outside before catching up to calum.

he sets your suitcase in the trunk before the two of you take a seat in his car.

the journey to the resort was a quiet one. you tried lightening the mood by humming along to the radio, but once you saw calum giving you a glance, you settled your lips in between your lips, feeling embarrassed.

the only talking he did throughout the drive was when mali, his sister had rang him. letting him know that her and ashton had bought the food shop and had made it to the cabin you were all staying at.

what had felt like hours, the two of you had finally arrived.

"what took you guys so long?" mali exclaims, opening up the front door wide. "someone wanted starbucks" calum rolls his eyes before walking past his sister with both his and yours' suit cases in his hands.

"i got it for everyone!" you retort, setting the cup holder down on the table in the hallway before hugging mali.

ashton then comes running into the hug as he wraps his arms around you both.

"come on, cal" mali shouts over her brother. "no, thanks" he mutters. "calum thomas hood, if you don't get your ass over here right this second, i'll show everyone that picture of you dressed up as a bratz doll" mali rambles but as soon as she threatened calum he came jogging over beside you and ashton.

you turned your head slightly and held your arm out to calum. his eyes flicker between your arm and your eyes before letting out a sigh.

he moves his gaze over to his sister, giving her a death stare. his arm hovers over the small of your back whilst his other arm tightly wraps around ashton's shoulder.

the four of you stand there laughing before pulling away. "that was cute," mali giggles, picking up a cup of coffee from the table.

your move your eyes over to calum, "d'know what would be even cuter?" you ask him. "what?" he snaps back. "you dressed as a bratz doll" you giggle, taking small steps towards him.

you let your hand rise to his hair, your fingers combing his hair. he looks at you, embarrassed. his cheeks turning a deep red. once you realize what you were doing, you quickly retract your hand back, dropping it to your side.

"shit, sorry. i don't know what-" you began to ramble, "it's fine, " he huffs. you nod awkwardly before trying to change the conversation.

"so room situations?" you ask as you look over at mali. "there's three rooms" mali begins. "and only one master suite" she finishes as she nods her head over at calum.

"so?" calum asks, shrugging his shoulders. "you're gonna have to share, calum"

"fuck, no. you take the suite and share with her" calum shakes his head. "stop being difficult calum, besides i've unpacked my stuff already," mali exclaims. calum looks over at ashton, "c'mon mate" ashton speaks up. "i'm totally fine on the couch" you pipe up as you twiddle with the rings on your fingers.

"it's fine" calum says once again, "you're with me, i guess" he let's out a sigh as he grabs the suitcases, trekking them up the stairs. "come on, then"

"coming!" you hurry up the stairs, following him into the master suite.

"we should set some ground rules." calum starts. "good idea," you return. "you have that half of the room, and i'll get this half." calum points at the opposite side of the room, letting you know which side yours was.

"seriously?" you raise your eyebrows at him. he nods his head, shaking his head to the side. "calum, that's so stupid. we're not kids"

"fine, what rules did you have? he asks. "i dress here, you in the ensuite. i want the side of the bed closest to the window and no bringing anyone back here cause i don't want to walk in on anything that you're up to" you list.

"is that everything, princess?" he curtseys in front of you with a sarcastic tone, and his eyes stay glued to you as he does so.

you put up your middle finger, aiming it towards him, he simply rolls his eyes.

"we should unpack"

whilst the two of you were finishing up unpacking, mali called you both down for dinner.

the four of you sat around the fireplace, pizza boxes scattered around you all as you sat and watched 'gilmore girls', the boys complaining at every chance they had.

whilst absent-mindedly watching the tv, you reached for the last pizza slice in the box. once you had felt another's hand already on the slice, you jerked your hand away.

"take it," you look over at calum, who had now moved his hand away, nodding his head over at the slice.

"no it's fine, it's yours." you shake your head before letting your eyes fall on the tv again. "just take it, y/n," you hear him say, but you simply shake your head to the side, keeping your eyes on the tv.

calum sighs before picking up the slice, which you saw out of your peripheral eyesight.

seconds later, you see him open his palm out to you, "here, take it" he says. you look down at his palm the see that he had tore the pizza in half.

you hear ashton say something in the background which made calum roll his eyes, "take it y/n, i made it fair" he shrugs. you give him a nod before taking one of the halves out of his hand, "thanks cal"

after finishing up, the four of you decided to play some card games, which led to every game being won by mali.

"what can i say, i'm older so i'm wiser." she smiles proudly. the three of you chuckle at her as she takes a bow.

"well, tonight's been fun guys" you pipped up, standing up from the floor, which you were seated on.

"i'm gonna get some sleep for tomorrow" you say, "make sure you guys set your alarms" mali exclaims, "yes mom" you roll your eyes playfully at her.

"goodnight guys," you smile. "i'll be up soon" calum says. you give him a nod before making your way into your shared room.

you lock the bedroom door behind you before pulling out a pyjama set; an oversized black tee and some short, baggy, grey shorts.

you headed over to ensuite, pulling your hair up in a messy bun on the top of your head, strands falling onto your face, to help frame your face.

you then washed your face and patted it dry before beginning to brush your teeth.

as you brushed around the toothpaste in your mouth, you heard a lazy knock to the door. knowing it was calum, you headed to the door, unlocking it.

"hey" he says, dropping his phone on the bed. with you not being able to reply with the toothpaste in your mouth, you gave him a small wave before returning back to the ensuite.

you once again shut the door, thinking he would change into his pyjamas.

once you had finished brushing your teeth, you called out to calum, "can i come in, cal?" you ask.

"yep" you hear him say, with that you open the door to see him already laid in bed.

he pulls the covers over himself, but before he does so, you scan his body to see what he's wearing: a black tank top and grey joggers.

you walk around to your side of the bed, slipping under the covers.

you laid on your back as you stared at the ceiling. the room was dark, but with the small lights from the window coming in, you could see calum in the same position as you.

you felt your eyes becoming heavy as you closed them. you had felt like you were falling asleep until you heard your phone ringtone blare out. "shit, sorry," you apologise as you scramble out of the bed to grab your phone of the table.

you checked your phone to see crystal calling you, and you slipped out the room, shutting the door behind you. but you stayed in front of the door as you answered her call.

"y/n, how was the drive?" she asks, "mali mentioned you came with calum" you giggled at the thought of mali and crystal talking about you and calum.

"yes, we did. it made sense to just take one car" you whisper. "has calum made a move yet?" she squeals. you furrow your eyebrows, "what'd you mean, made a move, crys?" you ask.

"what do you mean, what do i mean? this is so obvious y/n, " she starts, "everyone knows about you and calum, " she ends. "babe, there is no me and calum, i'm pretty sure he hates me," you pipe up. you hear crystal cracking up on the other side of the phone. "y/n, surely you've noticed how he acts around you"

"like friends?" you question. "ask mali, she'll back me up" crystal says.

you try ending the conversation as soon as you can, wanting to not talk about this topic. and you definitely weren't going to ask mali either about her thoughts. that would be embarrassing.

after ending the call, you made your way back into the bedroom, tiptoeing back to your side the bed. just in case calum had fell asleep.

you slip under the covers, placing your back against the mattress again. "was it crys?" calum asks. you look over at him and watch his biceps flex as he tucks his hands behind his head.

you hum in response, "is she okay?" his voice laced with concern. "she's all good cal, baby and mike too," you answer, and you feel his head nod.

"goodnight y/n"

"goodght cal"

it was now the next day, you had woken up to bright flash to your eyes.

you stirred in a warm embrace, nuzzling your head into the pillow.

"look how cute" mali's voice is heard in the room. you blinked open your eyes as you took in your surroundings.

shit! your hand was hung loosely around calum's bicep, your calf slightly tangled with his leg, and your head was nuzzled in his neck.

you brushed yourself off of him, causing him to stir, "what's happening?" calum asks, his voice hoarse and croaky.

"nothing!" you say quickly. a bit too quickly.

mali giggles before turning her phone around, showing you both the picture she had taken, you noticed calum had his head on yours, one hand still behind his head whilst his other laid dangerously low on your back.

you felt your cheeks growing red as you turned away from them both. calum clears his throat before sitting up on the bed.

"me and ashton are heading to the slopes, you guys woke up late so we'll meet you there" mali informs the both of you, you give her a nod before you watch her leave.

"i'm sorry" he apologizes. you shake your head as you look at him, "no that was on me, i was on your side of the bed, shit i'm sorry" you ramble.

calum follows suit and shakes his head, "it's not that deep, right?" he asks. "of course, not" you faked a smile before excusing yourself to the ensuite.

maybe everything crystal had said to you yesterday was getting in your head, making you unconsciously act out.

you tried brushing off the feelings, but you couldn't. you started replaying times when you and calum were together and the little things he used to do. you always thought he hated you, but maybe he didn't?

"you nearly done in there?" you hear calum ask from the other side. "just a few minutes" you call out. you snap out of your thoughts and start brushing your teeth before washing your face.

you walk back into the room, beelining straight to the wardrobe. as your hands were occupied with finding an outfit, your eyes sneakily fell on calum before he entered the ensuite, locking the door.

"fuck" you muttered, letting out a heavy breath that you didn't notice you were holding in.

once you had found an outfit suitable to the cold, you applied some light makeup: blush, mascara, and lip balm.

you then called out to calum, letting him know you'd be waiting for him downstairs. whilst making your way downstairs, you pulled your phone out of your jacket pocket, dialling crystal's number.

she answered after the first dial, "i need your help, i'm going crazy. like i don't want to be dealing with these feelings right now crys, i don't know what the fuck is happening to me. one minute, i think he's a jerk, and then the more i start thinking about him, i get butterflies in my stomach, and they hurt crys, it fucking hurts" you rambled over the phone, not even allowing her a moment to speak.

"say something," finally reaching downstairs, you take a seat on the couch, awaiting for a response. "are you okay?" your eyes widened when you recognized the voice over the phone as not crystal's.

"perfectly fine, mike." your cheeks turning into a deep rep shade, "where's crys?" you ask, a nervous laugh coming following suit.

"she's out with sierra, she left her phone at home," michael says. "oh okay, well, no need to let her know i called, but i should be going now," you try to hurry the conversation to an end.

"okay, no worries" he says, "y/n?" he says quickly after. "are you sure you're okay?" he asks. you let out a little sigh, "i'll be fine"

"ready to go?" calum says running down the stairs, he stands at the end of the stair, looking over at you. you give him a nod, "one sec" you mouth to him.

"i have to get going, mike. i'll see you soon. " you finish off the call after hearing michael saying his goodbyes.

"is he okay?" calum asks you, as he watches you now walking over. he give him a nod. "we should probably get going, it's like a twenty minute walk" calum informs you.

"can't we take your car?" you ask, frowning your lips. "we can't, there's no cars allowed up there" he says. "but we can take a cable car?"

the two of you stood in line for one of the cable cars. it wasn't busy, so you both managed to get a cable car for the both of you.

you both sat on opposite sides to each other. looking down, you watched as the cable car left the tunnel, your eyes widening at the extreme height.

"is this a bad time to say i'm terrified of heights?" your eyes find calum's soothing brown ones as you nervously place your bottom lip in between your lips.

"just don't look down, okay," his voice soothing, he leans forward slightly, watching as you twist the rings on your fingers. you nod your head at the advice.

but you felt your chest becoming too hurt as you exhaled heavier breaths. "hey, you're gonna be okay" he quickly rushes over to your side, sitting beside you. "sit back" he says and so you do.

he let's one of his hands cup your cheeks, "just look at me, focus on my breathing, okay?" and so you start following his breathing pattern. once you had calmed down, you realized calum's thumb rubbing circles on your cheeks.

you looked up at him before glancing at his hand that was still on your cheek. he quickly let go, clearing his throat, to help fill the silence.

"we're here" he spoke in monotone, whilst looking out the glass.

he stands up, waiting for the doors to open, you follow behind him as he walks out.

the exit tunnel was extremely overcrowded, which hinted at the fact that the slopes would be busy.

"c'mere" calum says, reaching out for you hand, pulling you against his chest as he lead you both out of the exit tunnel.

your body melted against him, his chest pressing into your back, making you weak in your knees. his hands settled on your waist as he guided you.

once the two of you had finally left the tunnel, you were both met with the brightest snow on the slopes.

"let's go look for the others," calum says as he pulls himself away from you. your lips turned into a small frown at the loss of warmth. not wanting him to see you, you quickly plastered a smile on your lips before giving him a nod.

after minutes of searching, the two of you had regrouped with mali and ashton. the four of you decided to have some hot chocolates from one of the pop-ups. so whilst ashton and calum went to go buy them, you and mali sat at a table.

you noticed mali giving you a wide grin, "what?" you giggled. "nothing," you could tell she was lying, so you simply just raised an eyebrow up at her.

"it's just you and calum -" she starts, but you quickly stop her. "i feel awkward talking to you about this. he's your brother." you shake your head.

she opens her mouth to start speaking again but gets interrupted by ashton and calum, placing the hot chocolates down on the table.

calum takes a seat beside you whilst ashton sits besides mali.

the four of you make mindless conversations whilst sipping on your hot chocolates.

after what was around an hour, ahston and mali decided the wanted to ski down the slopes.

"you guys wanna join?" ashton asks. "you guys go ahead, i'll watch you three," calum gives you a quick glance, "i'll stay with you" he says before finishing off his drink. "we'll find something else to do," he says.

you quickly shake your head, "no cal, you should go, i don't want you to miss out" you argue. "no, i don't even want to ski, we'll go find something else, okay?" he asks. "are you sure?" you ask him and he responds with a nod.

"we'll see you guys later then" ashton says. "let us know if you end up going back to the cabin" mali says before running off to catch up with ashton.

"so what'd you wanna do?" you ask calum.

"sleigh ride?" he raises his eyebrow whilst asking you. "that's sounds perfect!" you squeal.

so the two of you make your way over to the sleigh carriages, taking a seat in an unoccupied one.

the two of you sit back whilst you watch the reindeers start to take small steps forward.

"so, have you always been scared of heights?"

you turn your head to look at calum, "not always, but as i got older, i guess i got sacred of the lack of stability and control" you say, "sorry that was a bit deep" you giggle. calum gives you a smile in return.

as the forty minute sleigh ride went on, the more the two of you talked, on a personal and connected level.

ashton and mali had also made their way back up to you guys.

"it was honestly so fun!" you exclaim as you tell ashton and mali about the sleigh ride. you notice calum's lips turning into a smile as he watched you ramble about how good the sleigh ride was.

"cal" mali exclaims, trying to regain calum back in from his daydreaming. calum replies with a hum. "what did we always do up here when we were younger?" she smiles as she jumps up and down on the spot.

calum rolled his eyes playfully, "snow angels" he chuckles. "come on, everyone!" she announces as she falls back onto the snow, letting her arms and legs push around the snow as she flaps them in the snow.

the three of you follow suit as now the four of you create snow angels.

once the shape was imprinted in the snow, mali and ashton rose back to their feet, and you once again followed shortly behind them. "need a hand," you giggle as you watch calum, struggling to get up.

he hums as he reaches for your hand. before you know it, you feel him tug on your hand, making you fall forward and on top of him.

your face inches apart as your hands now lay on his hard chest. you look up to his eyes as he looks down at yours. he places his hand on the low of your back.

"hey" he smiles. "hi" you smile back. "y-y/n" he whispered, and you hummed in response.

"get a room!" ashton chuckles. you notice calum bite his cheek before opening his mouth again, "you're on me," he says. "oh, yeah, shit, sorry," you rambled as you quickly found your stance back onto your feet, brushing of the snow that was on your clothes.

"what the-" you begin to say as you feel something being thrown at you. you turn around to see mali throwing snow balls at you. you giggled before bending down to create a ball of snow in your hands.

you stood back up and threw it on her back.

"snowball fight!" ashton called out.

and there, the four of you were throwing snowballs at each other.

after throwing multiple at ashton and mali, you decide to throw some at calum. so you had two snowballs in your hand, about to throw them in calum's direction, but before you could, you felt a heavy weight being thrown to your head, making you trip over your feet.

"fuck! are you okay?" you hear calum say, panic in his voice, as he rushes over to your side.

you brought your hand to your head as you rubbed it. "it's hurts" you winced. "i'm so sorry" he repeats as he brings his hand over yours, rubbing the place he had hit you with the snowball.

he then moved my hand from it, letting his lips leave a small kiss on the area. "i should take her back" calum says as he helps you up on your feet. you shake your head, "i'll be fine"

despite saying you were fine, calum still made you go back to the cabin with him. you told mali and ashton to stay out still and to still keep having fun.

the journey back to the cabin was pretty much quiet except when you were back in the cable car, you felt your head starting to pound so you winced from the pain and calum had asked you if you were okay.

once you had gotten back, you went straight into the bedroom and got changed, calum doing the same in the bathroom.

you were sat in the bed as you massaged the side of your head.

"how're you feeling?" calum asks as he enters back into the room, this time with a tracksuit on.

"i'll be fine, calum," you shake your head as you look up at him. you watched as he walked over to your side of the bed, kneeling down in front of you.

he didn't say anything, just simply looked up at you as his hand cupped your cheek, his thumb creating shapes on your cheek.

"you confuse me" you scoff as you catch his eyes with yours.

"what do you mean?" he asks as he rises from his knees.

"i thought we were getting along on this trip, cal. i thought you were lossening up around me. i thought you had dropped your jerk act, but as soon as you do, you put it back on again. why? why won't you let in?" you let your hand intertwine with his, tugging on it, making him take a seat beside you on the bed. which he did.

"how long have we known each other for, y/n?" calum ask, you furrow your eyebrows, "eight years"

"eight years, it's been y/n" he starts. "eight years of me being completely and utterly infatuated with you. eight years of me wanting you for myself, eight years of having you consume my every thought. eight years of knowing i couldn't be with you because i don't deserve you, eight years' worth of songs that were written about you because i couldn't bring myself to tell you how i'd felt"

whilst he was expressing his feelings, you noticed at some point he had reached for you hands, he was looking down at them, twiddling with them.

"i thought if i could try distance myself away from you by acting the way i have, it would hurt less but fuck it hasn't" he sighs.

he looks up into your eyes, "can i be selfish for a second?" he asks as his eyes flicker to your lips.

you nod as you watch him lean into your lips, placing a delicate kiss on them.

he moves his hands, so he's cupping your cheeks, "i've wanted to do that for so long"

"i wish you told me" you shake your head. "i'm sorry y/n about everything," he says as he rests his forehead against mine.

"it took you eight years calum" you begin, "let's not make its nine, okay?" you nod before letting your lips catch his.

a/n: i wanted to extend this, but i didn't want this to be too long, so it'll be either be a part two to this or i might change it a little bit to be its own work to be different but regardless it'll be the next post.

also this took me forever to writeee :'(

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

hi cal!! 💜

🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓 if that's not too many 👀

Not too many at all! Thank you!!

45 for 🐓:

---

Should’ve, should’ve, should’ve. But he’s terrified of calling one day and finding Eddie is no longer happy to talk to him. That keeping up with their friendship, for Eddie, has become a chore. 

Buck doesn’t reply right away. He waits until after breakfast. Then, he asks Jee to pose in front of his parents’ big, perfectly arranged but soulless Christmas tree. He snaps some photos while she grins, then sends one to Eddie.

Last minute choice to come, but all good here. How are you?

It takes Eddie about twenty minutes to reply. 

⬅️

That first day starts okay. Like not great, but not bad. They go out for lunch. They take Jee to the Hershey Museum and his parents spoil her with chocolate. 

“Oh good,” he hears Chim mutter. “She needed more sugar before Christmas.”

Buck can’t help but agree. He’s seen Christopher in a holiday sugar meltdown - back when he was littler - and it’s not a pretty sight. Besides, Jee isn’t even four yet. Almost, but not yet. She’s a little young for this museum. She’s not really feeling it. Mostly begging for more chocolate and restless during most of the exhibits. Buck watches, a little frustrated. This all seems like a charade to show how great they are at being grandparents. None of it really seems about Jee. There are a lot more tiny kid-friendly activities in Hershey they could have done. 

“Why do you look so glum?” His mother asks towards the end of the museum tour. “I thought you loved museums?”

He does. He does really love museums. Any way to learn interactively has always been good for his never-still brain. 

“I do,” Buck says. “How do you know that?”

He waits for her to share some story he’s never heard. Maybe something he can’t remember. The rare time they took him to a museum as a kid and it was a great family day and they saw something he appreciated in him. 

That’s not what comes. 

“Oh, the feedback from your teachers after field trips,” Margaret says. “It was like a different kid, they always said.”

Buck’s chest sinks. “Ah, right.”

“I thought you might enjoy this today,” she persists. “Really, I did.”

[souperbloom]

5sos!reader is genuinely one of my fav tropes omg?? i would love it if you could do smth along the same lines for luke <3

omg i’m so sorry this took me so long to get out. i was pondering on ways to make it perfect since this was such a general request, (i wrote 3 separate stories and hated all of them) but i hope y’all love what i came up with !!! <3

————

crowd pleaser. [l.h.]

omg i love this gif

bandmate!reader x Luke

in which the final show of tour calls for some ~celebration~

ended this one hella abruptly i’m sorry— i ran out of steam & wanted to get this out LMAO

CONTENT WARNINGS: smut!, pet names, unprotected sex, mentions of drinking, exhibitionism (kinda)

WORDCOUNT: 3.8k

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

“How long until soundcheck?”

The disembodied voice gives you a fright, but when you snap around to see your boyfriend standing at the door frame of your dressing room, your startled face morphs into a smile.

“Scared the shit outta’ me,” you mumble, turning the pegs of your guitar until each string was in tune.

“I asked a question,” Luke chuckles, skipping past your chair to lean against the wall across from you.

“Dunno’. Maybe you should’ve looked at the clock before you came in here and bothered me.”

You bite back a smile, finding it hard now to concentrate on getting your guitar in tune. Luke steps behind your chair, anchoring his hands on your shoulders. He starts slowly massaging your neck, pressing his thumbs into the pesky knot that you can never seem to reach.

“Someone’s grumpy today, eh?” You could hear his pout, just by his voice alone.

“Not grumpy, no. Just— tryin’ to get shit done so I have some time to get my shit together before the show.”

Today was the final day of tour. Fifty shows, more countries and states than you could count; it felt surreal to say that you’d been traveling across the world to do what you loved most, let alone doing it beside four of your best friends.

The adrenaline level was high in everyone but yourself. You had decided that today would be the one day where you actually planned out your schedule, to allot some time for the emotions that are bound to flood when you realize that this would be your last time performing with your band for a while.

To put it simply, you wanted to lend yourself some time to cry. In a good way.

“You’re so tense baby,” Luke grumbles softly, digging his thumbs into your shoulder blades, “Want a drink or somethin’?”

“No, I’m good.” You give your guitar one final tweak before setting it down on its stand beside you.

“You sure? I’ll take a shot with you right now. C’mon. Let’s do it. One and done.”

“Luke, please,” you laugh, fully turning around in your seat to give him a good look, “It’s like, 3pm.”

“Hey, it’s five o’clock somewhere. Plus, the boys and I may have already ripped back a shot for some confidence.”

You roll your eyes, and Luke bends down to rest his elbows against the back of your chair. His lips are now level with yours and are just dying for a kiss.

“Confidence? Please. You boneheads would use anything as an excuse to get plastered. I swear, you and Cal would pregame a doctor’s appointment.”

Luke seems to read your mind, as he does quite often, and steals a quick kiss after your rambling is done with. His sandy blonde curls flop in front of his eyes, but you’re quick to tuck them behind his ear.

“Baby, come on. This is the finale. We’re supposed to be celebrating!”

“I think we both know that you and I have way different ideas of what it means to celebrate.”

You couldn’t help being so stubborn, it was instilled in you since birth. But Luke made it his mission, as your partner, to do anything in his power to get you to change your mind. And most, if not all of the time, he was quite convincing.

It takes you a few minutes to stand up, after Luke had kindly stepped in front of your dressing room door to basically block you from leaving. There was virtually no escaping his request for a pre-show shot.

But who says you can’t negotiate?

“Y’know babe,” you begin nonchalantly, twisting a lock of your hair between your fingers as you approach Luke’s large, lanky stature, “I have a proposition for you.”

His eyebrows quirk in challenge, “Alright, sure. Since you won’t do a shot with me— Let’s hear it.”

You take a moment to admire him in his silky black button down. The way his braided silver choker sat just above his collarbone and glistened beneath the overhead lamps was making you swoon. You were the one that got him into wearing jewelry, painting his nails, dousing glitter onto his cheeks and eyelids; a bit of self expression. You’d told him that it would help with his stage presence, which was some advice he definitely needed at the start of this tour.

And of course, he took a liking to it. The same way he did with you.

“What if we did something else to celebrate?”

You step closer to him and press your index finger against his chest, trailing it down and catching it onto the top button of his shirt. His eyes bounce between your wandering digit and your face, as he urges you silently to continue.

“Something else, hm? Like what?”

“We could— pass some time.”

His body tenses up the moment you make a sly effort to undo that top button. Short, staggered breaths begin to leave his throat as you continue to taunt him with your stare.

“I’ve always been intrigued by pre-show quickies.”

Luke’s eyes widened at your brutal honesty, ocean blue pricked with sparkling icy streaks that had undoubtedly shifted into something a bit darker. You bite your lip, he returns, and it takes everything inside of him not to pull you in closer.

“Really?” he stammers slightly, the back of his knuckles grazing your midriff, “Since when?”

“Since I saw how fuckin’ sexy you looked in that shirt this morning.”

Luke smacks his teeth, tilting his head to the side and reinstating that dominant air he holds over you so well, “Well, I’m not— opposed to the idea, baby…”

You hum in reply, the only thing you’re capable of thinking about is how his hands felt crawling down to your hips.

“…But just so you know, we only have about twenty minutes ‘till call time.”

“So you did know how much time we had, you fuckin’ liar.”

He chuckles quietly, before pulling you into him and pressing his body against yours, “I just wanted an excuse to come bother you. You should know me a bit better by now.”

It was getting harder to just stand there and stare at your boyfriend’s pretty face— his big cerulean eyes and deep set dimples that made you want to just grab him by his cheeks and tackle him down to the floor. But you’re stronger than that. You started this dance, so you might as well keep up.

“I think twenty minutes is plenty of time,” you try your best at sounding confident and sensual, knowing that if he were to move his hand an inch closer to your thigh, you’d fold like a wet paper towel.

“Really?” He muses, subtly stepping you back further into the room.

“Yup.”

“You’re awfully confident.”

It was now a battle of who could keep the eye contact the longest without getting distracted. Now that there was a set time constraint, the stakes had raised ten fold.

“I think we could do better than twenty minutes. How’s fifteen? Maybe even ten?”

“Don’t get too ahead of yourself, gorgeous…”

In a daze, Luke spins you around and suddenly has your back pressed against the wall. You could practically feel the wind being knocked out of your lungs as his hand travels up your chest and loosely grips the base of your neck.

“…You know I like to take my time.”

A quiet moan slips past your lips as Luke begins a trail of sultry kisses down your jaw, to the base of your collarbone. He kept his grasp on you firm, yet still loose enough for you to slip out if need be.

“Mmmh, baby—” you chirp, your head angling back to give him better access to the sweet spot of your neck, “the door.”

He pops his head up for a moment, only to take your chin between his pointer finger and thumb, and stare you down with those cool baby blues.

“The door? Who gives a fuck about the door? Let ‘em hear it.”

You can’t really argue with that, so you just go limp in his arms as he continues to taunt you with his lips and tongue. He takes his free hand and grabs ahold of your thigh to prop it up against his hip.

What was once a journey of hickies and love bites had now transformed into a steamy make-out session. Luke groans into your mouth each time your hips swivel forward to meet his groin— you could barely contain the sounds that were echoing past your lips and bouncing off the walls of your dressing room.

You take a moment to catch your breath as Luke tugs at the hemline of your top.

“This. Off. Now.”

“Mmkay,” you sigh dreamily, following orders as it was now clear that Luke had taken the reins.

You manage to wrangle his lips off of your neck for a moment to allow you to peel your shirt over your head. But that split second felt like an eternity for Luke; for he had been dying to get his hands on you all morning and the last thing he wanted was to bother you.

But once you’d given him the signs that ‘bothered’ is the only thing you wanted to be, he didn’t think twice.

“Fuck, baby— been thinkin’ about you all morning,” Luke mumbles through his teeth, taking in the sight of your bare chest and simple black bra.

“Have you?”

“Mhmm. ‘Been thinkin’ about why my girl’s been so grumpy today. Guess she just needed a bit of attention, hm?”

Luke’s condescending words send a chill down your spine, along with that wandering hand of his. It had traveled towards your navel and hooked to the waistband of your skirt to pull you in even closer.

The only word you could muster was a simple curse word, a ‘fuck’, for good measure. But Luke didn’t seem satisfied with that reply.

“Is my girl gonna talk to me? Or am I just gonna stand here n’ talk to myself until she finds it in her to answer me?”

“Luke,” you whine his name yet still, his thirst isn’t quenched.

“C’mon baby— I know you can do it. You gonna’ beg for me? Like you always do?”

Your eyelids flutter closed in bliss, your hands on their own beating path towards the waistband of his skinny jeans. You could hear him tsk in disapproval before his hand is softly tapping against your cheek.

“Keep those eyes on me, pretty girl. Don’t think you can finish what you started?”

The moment you open your mouth to reply, you’re whipped out of this dreamlike state by a knock at your door frame.

“Ten minutes ‘till stage. We need everyone in the wings for a company meeting.”

The panic in your eyes immediately transfers over to Luke, who had flinched only slightly upon hearing your manager’s voice. You roll your lips inward, fighting a giggle yet still feeling vulnerable from the position Luke was holding you in.

“You got lucky, baby,” Luke leans down to whisper into your ear, “Saved by the bell.”

You eventually find enough confidence to tease, “Who says we can’t finish this later?”

“Uuuughhhhhh.”

He whines into your neck, his head hanging low and knocking against the wall with a disgruntled huff. You could tell by the way his body language changed that he was rather disappointed.

“Don’t whine, you sound like a child,” you giggle, playfully shoving his slouched body and sending him stumbling backwards.

With a bit of a fight, Luke groans, before picking up your shirt and handing it to you like it was the last thing he ever wanted to do. “Promise we’ll pick this back up later?”

You bite back a smile, and pull your shirt over your head. He physically winces once you fully put it back on.

“I promise. It’ll be like we never even left.”

After a moment of pouting and rolling his eyes, Luke fixes himself in your mirror beside you, gathering his thoughts and shaking his head clear as the two of you bicker about the impending final show.

“Maybe I’ll give you a little special something after the show tonight. My treat,” Luke announces proudly, fixing the collar of his shirt.

“Your treat? I’m intrigued.”

You let your mind run rampant as you sling your guitar over your shoulder, admiring your pretty boyfriend through the mirror as he fluffs his hair and double checks his eyeshadow.

“Mhm. But— only if you’re good. Gotta’ see you giving it your all out there.” Luke takes a wide step to tower over you, brushing a lock of hair behind your ear.

“Oh please Luke, I’m always good. Good to you, good to the band— I basically have sex with the crowd every night.”

“Don’t go making me jealous now, baby,” he muses, “I’ll see you out there.”

Luke’s flirty goodbye is topped off with a kiss to your cheek, before he’s saluting you and waltzing out of the door like nothing even happened. You can’t help but stand in his place in awe, fiddling with the neck of your guitar impetuously as the thought of him floods your mind even more so than before.

This was about to be the longest fucking show of your life.

~

It was just about eleven and the show finally had come to a close with an encore.

To say that the energy was through the roof was an understatement; the crowd was consistently feeding off of the band and the last thing you wanted to do was to leave it behind. But, of course, you were dragged away by the fall of the curtains and the eruption of colorful confetti.

You blew kisses, gave hugs, and even managed to find some time to toss a few guitar picks down by the barricade. But what you weren’t expecting was followed after curtain fall, when your boyfriend had decided to scoop you and your handful of picks up bridal style, and run you offstage like a bullet.

“Baby, you were amazing out there,” Luke whispers hurriedly into your ear, still holding you tightly in his arms as he barreled down the hall away from the wings.

“Luke, where are we—?”

Your question is cut off abruptly by him tipping you over and planting you back onto your feet. It took you a second to regain your balance but in the moment that you did, Luke had you pinned against the cinder block wall of the backstage area.

The gaze in his eyes was ravening, restless— his pupils were shaking and his once crystal irises had flitted to a deep indigo hue. Your breath catches in your throat as he tries to collect his own, still carrying the fatigue of running with you in his arms.

“I owe you— something special,” his words are chopped up by staggered breathing, a bead of sweat rolling down his forehead. You reach up between your temperate bodies to wipe it away.

“You could’ve at least given yourself a minute to relax after the show, Lu,” you console softly, but Luke shakes his head frantically.

“No, no— no. Had— had to get you here. Now. Want you— right here.”

“Right here?” You whisper back, glancing over his shoulder at the empty hallway.

“Yes. Right here. Please, baby. Been dying’ to get my hands on you. Got me so fuckin’ worked up out there… Felt like I was suffocating.”

You watch your boyfriend's face flash a plethora of different emotions; tired, hungry, desperate, lovesick. All of the things you were feeling throughout your little pre-show rendezvous.

“O-okay… If that’s what you wa—”

“Do you want to? We don’t have to, I’m just— I couldn’t wait to touch you, baby.”

His voice trembles as he whines desperately, leaning closer into your ear with each syllable. It’s hard to ignore his vehement pleading, especially since you’d promised to pick up right where you had left off.

As you’re about to give him the okay to proceed, he flushes his body against yours. You could feel the rock solid erection that was held captive by his restricting uniform skinny jeans, and the feeling of it almost brought you to moan.

“Feel what you do to me, gorgeous? Can you feel how fuckin’ hard I am for you? Want you— want you everywhere, baby.”

In a daze you’re nodding and in no time, his lips are on yours like a magnet. It had become a frenzied jumble of clumsy touching and groping in a matter of moments, a few excited giggles slipping past your lips and knocking into his.

“Fuck, baby— So good to me, y’ always are.”

“Luke, please—”

You give him the signal and soon enough, you’re being shimmied out of your panties beneath your skirt.

Luke makes a sly face, taking your lacy intimates and shoving them in his back pocket. “For safekeeping,” he whispers playfully, before pulling you back into that hungry kiss.

His weathered palms traversed beneath your shirt and slid up and down your sides; poor Luke couldn’t decide where to place his hands. But regardless of his indecision, his touch felt transcendent.

“Gonna fuck you so good, pretty girl,” Luke mumbles into your ear, making sure to nip at the nape of your neck and a bit of your earlobe to get your blood pumping.

You could already tell that you were wet. Soaked, even, just by the hurriedness of this all. The rush you were experiencing was feeding into that leftover adrenaline from the show. You truly had zero complaints.

“Oh my God,” you whine, as Luke takes his time to mark up your neck, “Please, baby? C-can’t wait much longer.”

“That’s my girl,” he retorts, taking his hands and cupping your cheeks delicately as your body language begged for the feeling of him, “So polite, like always.”

Your hands had made their way to unzip his jeans and caress his bulge above the briefs that held it, whining softly as your fingertips graze a wet mark left on the fabric.

“Mhhh, messy,” you bumble, slowly tracing your thumb across the spot of precum.

Luke hisses in pleasure, a smile forming at the end of his cry, “See what you do to me? I’m a fuckin’ mess for you, pretty.”

You couldn’t find it in you to respond coherently as he guided your hand to slip his cock from out of his underwear. On instinct, you wrap your fingers around his length and slowly begin to pump him between your bodies.

A moan rumbled through Luke’s chest and suddenly the wetness pooling between your legs was becoming an issue. Each touch of his dick and caress of his hipbone was becoming more and more despairing. Like your essence was simply falling apart beneath his fingertips.

“Gotta get my girl up here,” Luke grunts, moving his hands towards the backs of your thighs and gripping them tightly, “Jump.”

You do as you’re told, jumping up and locking your ankles around Luke’s back as he feeds into your desires with more love bites and bruises. Your back was flush against the wall, with just the right amount of space for Luke to line his cock up with your entrance.

“Look at you. My little rockstar. Put on one show and now you’re lookin’ for an encore?” He jokes with you tenderly, yet the bigger half of you was more desperate for him than anything else.

“What can I say, baby? I’m a crowd-pleaser.”

You steal his reply with a rough kiss, hoping to distract him enough not to let him notice the rips and tears that your nails were dragging along his silk shirt.

He pulls away from you, staring deeply into your eyes like the two of you were the last two living humans on Earth. Your boyfriend definitely had an affinity for eye contact, no matter the scenario.

The notch in his brow deepens as he adjusts your body, prodding your entrance with his tip and drawing a soft whine from your throat.

“So wet for me baby— just couldn’t wait to soak my cock, hm?”

Luke also had a thing for asking you questions, the call and response deeply feeding into his bedroom-dominant persona.

“Yes, Lu— fuckin’ soaked for you. Played the whole show thinking about you fucking me...”

“Is that right?” he quizzes, leaning in quickly to nip at your bottom lip and pull it away from your teeth.

You hiss at the sharp pain, tasting a bit of metallic on your tongue, “Mhm. Honest. Had to give you my all out there. Just like I promised I would.”

“God, you are too good to me, gorgeous,” he tosses his head back in bliss, still blindly teasing your slit, “Bet my girl’s looking for a reward for all this good behavior…”

Right as your lips part to reply, Luke is ramming his cock up into you. You gasp in shock, yet slowly mold around the feeling of him as he roughly bucks his hips against you.

“Holy fuck, Lu— oh my God!”

His teeth sink down into his bottom lip as he begins his jagged rhythm of snapping his hips, his eyes staying planted firmly into yours. It takes everything inside of you to keep your eyes on him; for you know that the last thing he wanted was for you to look away.

“Feels s’fuckin’ good, baby,” Luke groans, holding your hips tight enough to leave bruises in place of his fingertips.

The feeling of his cock pushing in deeper with each stroke had your body doubling over, the air in your lungs being knocked out in time with the tempo that he claimed.

Your body was pushing it’s limits, each direct hit to your g-spot forced low mewls from your chest and serenaded Luke’s desires. He was loving the adrenaline mixed with the overwhelming craving that he had been fighting all night long.

Your breathing in sync was like a symphony, music to Luke’s ears— he couldn’t fathom the thought of saving you for later until he was quite literally forced to. But with each buck of his hips and every single moan spilling from your lips, he soon realized that maybe the wait was worth it.

“Gonna’ cum soon, baby— keep those eyes on me, okay?”

You bite back frantic tears that pricked your eyes, nodding sheepishly as you let him fuck up into you. The only sound you were capable of making was a weak whimper, but Luke didn’t mind.

“Cum on my cock, baby… Fuckin’ soak me—”

“You look so beautiful. My fuckin’ girl.”

All of these silky-sweet nothings were hitting you like a freight train. You were nodding in time with the movement of his hips, your tits bouncing between your bodies and your eyes threatening to flutter closed at just how good he felt filling you up.

You moan again, as does he, and you’re able to read his expression before he’s even uttering the words:

“Gonna’ fill you up, gorgeous. Cum for me, baby?”

[hischierdevils]

Close As Strangers | Q.H.

note: thank you to my cal anon for suggesting I write something based off of Close As Strangers by 5sos

summary: you realize that quinn doesn’t have to be physically gone for you to miss him

warnings: ANGST

wc: 1.7K

I'm afraid that I might be losing you

And every night that we spend alone

It kills me thinking of you on your own

And I wish I was back home next to you

When Quinn got back to the hotel after the game he was exhausted. He was two days into a ten day road trip and it was already hard to come back to an empty bed. As he changes out of his suit and gets ready for bed, he wonders what you’re doing. 

The two of you weren’t on very good terms when he left. The team had a couple of brutal losses back to back and Quinn had blamed it on himself. He internalized everything, coming home from the rink and ignoring you as he ran through the game in his mind trying to find all of his mistakes. 

The two of you had been together for a year already, so he thought you knew by now not to take it personally when he withdrew from you but you’d taken to sleeping on the couch a few nights before he left. He had stood by the door with his suitcase waiting for his goodbye kiss but you simply waved him off, barely looking in his direction. 

You hadn’t texted him before or after the game. He doesn’t even know if you watched it. You usually always send him a good luck text even though he never replies because he’s usually on the phone with his Dad. The last message in your text thread is you asking if the two of you could have a date night before he left. It had gone unanswered because he was in the gym with Petey. Besides, the two of you lived together. He saw you all the time. 

Now he lays in bed alone, wishing he could hold you in his arms as he falls asleep. He tosses and turns a few times before clutching the extra pillow and pulling it to his chest. You always start off spooning when the two of you fall asleep and then during the night you always somehow end up on top of Quinn. He teases you about it but he doesn’t mind. He loves waking up to you laying on his chest. 

Quinn lays in bed for what feels like hours but sleep never comes. His mind is full of thoughts of you and he starts to convince himself that you won't be there when he returns home. The thought is enough to make him sit up in bed and reach for his phone. It’s 12:30 a.m. his time which means it’s only 9:30 p.m. your time. 

Late night calls and another text

Is this as good as we're gonna get?

Another time zone taking me away from you

Your phone begins to ring with an incoming facetime as you take your makeup off. Quinn’s name comes up so you click accept and prop your phone up on the counter so you can continue your nightly routine. 

“Hey beautiful.” You fight the urge to roll your eyes as you wash your face. Of course he’s all cute and caring when he’s in a completely different timezone. 

“Hey. How was the game?” You ask. 

“We won. Did you watch it?” It’s so dark on his side of the screen that you can barely see his face. 

“No.” You respond as you reach for a towel to pat-dry your face. You did turn the game on for a moment but it hurt too much to see him smiling and laughing with his teammates during warm ups so you turned it back off. “I’m glad you won.”

“What did you do tonight?” You know he’s asking because he wants to know why you didn’t watch the game. How could you knowing the outcome of the game would determine if you got to talk to your boyfriend tonight? 

You take a minute to answer, dabbing moisturizer on your face before putting all of your products away. “Nothing, really.” You finally respond as you shut off the bathroom light and make your way into the bedroom you share with Quinn. “I had dinner and read my book.” The truth is you picked at your dinner before throwing most of it out. You tried watching his game but couldn’t stomach it, so you opened a book and stared at the same page for an hour. 

Quinn shifts on his side of the phone. When did it become so hard for the two of you to talk? “Sounds like a nice night.” 

When you first started dating, you stayed up for hours talking about anything and everything with him. Now you can’t even bring yourself to tell him you miss him. “Yeah, I guess.” 

“I love you.” He says as you get into bed. His pillow still smells like him and you’re suddenly overwhelmed with grief, as if the relationship is already over. 

“I miss you.” You whisper with tears in your eyes. 

On the phone I can tell that you wanna move on

Through the tears I can hear that I shouldn't have gone

Every day gets harder to stay away from you

Quinn sits up quickly when he hears you start to cry and he turns on his bedside lamp so you can see his face. “It’s okay, baby. I’m here.” His heart breaks as he listens to you sob. “I’ll be home soon.”

“Even when you’re here you’re not here, Quinn.” You tell him between gasps. “I don’t think I can do this anymore.” 

“Y/n.” Tears begin to line his own eyes as he looks at the dark screen. He can’t see your face and he’s not sure if he wants to. “You don’t mean that. We’ll get through this.” 

“I don’t even know what we’re supposed to get through!” Your voice turns angry, making him wince. “You barely speak to me anymore Quinn. We don’t act like a couple. We’re just strangers that happen to live in the same house.” 

He realizes how much he’s been taking you for granted and his tears start to fall quickly. All he wants to do is reach through the phone and hold you. “I’m sorry, y/n. I’ve had a lot going on with the-”

“The team, I know.” Your voice is bitter. 

“Hockey’s my job y/n, you knew that going into this.” He bites back. 

“I knew that you’d have to leave for away games.” You’re not sobbing anymore but he can tell you’re still crying. “I didn’t realize how you played affected if I would get a good night kiss or not.” 

“That’s not true.” 

“Can you tell me the last time we kissed, Quintin?” He winces at the use of his full name. You never call him that. It hurts even more when he realizes that he doesn’t know the last time he kissed you. Surely it couldn’t have been longer than a week, right?

“I love you y/n.” He says through his tears. 

He hears you sigh. “I’m going to bed.” 

What does that mean? Are you broken up? “Can I call you tomorrow?” 

“I guess that depends on the game, huh?” You hang up before he can respond, leaving him staring at his own reflection. He told you twice that he loved you and you hadn’t said it back.

Are we wasting time

Talking on a broken line?

Telling you I haven't seen your face in ages

I feel like we're as close as strangers

You called off of work the next day. You’d spent most of the night crying after talking to Quinn and you woke up with a headache. You had no idea where the two of you stood or what you even wanted. You love Quinn, at least you thought you did. The Quinn you see now is just a shell of who he used to be. It almost seems like he decided that since you lived together he didn’t have to try anymore. 

You woke up to a good morning text from him so you responded wishing him luck at his game before you move to sit on the couch. Wearing one of Quinn’s hoodies with tears in your eyes, you search your laptop for affordable apartments in the Vancouver area. The thought of breaking up is killing you but so is the thought of staying. 

You don’t hear anything else from him before the game starts but you find yourself pulling it up on the tv anyway. You set your laptop down on the floor and watch the tv until you spot Quinn in a close-up. You wish you could say he looks miserable. That maybe he’s hurting just as much as you are but there’s nothing about his appearance that signifies that. 

His game though, is another story. He’s playing the worst game you’ve ever seen him play. You should turn it off, knowing there’s no chance you’ll be hearing from him tonight, but it’s like watching a car accident. You don’t want to watch but you can’t look away. 

With five seconds left in the second period, there’s a lot of traffic around the Canucks net and Quinn ends up taking a deflected puck straight to the face. He’s helped off the ice and goes straight down the tunnel. You watch in horror as the rest of the period plays out, waiting for news of him. He doesn’t come back on the ice and the game goes to second intermission. 

“Please be okay.” You whisper to yourself as you snuggle into Quinn’s hoodie. “Please.” 

Five minutes later, your phone is ringing. You answer right away when you see it’s Quinn. “Are you okay?” 

“Do you still love me?” His question throws you off. 

“What? Quinn…” Your mind is reeling. He just took a puck to the face and that’s what he’s worried about?

“Please don’t leave, okay?” His voice breaks up over the line. “I need you to be there when I get home.” There’s noise in the background and then ruffling. “I have to go.” 

“Quinn.” You say his name so he’ll stay on the line. “I need you to be here when you get home.” 

“I will be.” He says and then hangs up. 

[the-hinky-panda]

War of the Roses: Part IV

Warning: Mention of miscarriages

It’s three in the afternoon when Bill’s phone rings with a number he doesn’t recognize. He’s in the middle of cleaning the pistols he recently shot, an effort to get you out of his system. He had taken care of himself in the shower last night, kicking himself for stopping you from unbuckling his belt in the barn. He let his imagination run wild later that night, picturing your legs wrapped around his hips, his cock slowly sinking into your tight, wet heat. It took less than fifteen seconds before he came. 

The morning was just as bad, waking up with a raging hard on and the vestiges of a dream where you were in the bed beside him. It took him thirty seconds to relieve himself that time. So he did the only thing that he could and that was throwing himself into farm work. He unloaded a truck bed full of hay bales, picked up the feed store order and stacked it in the feed room. And when his muscles started getting sore, he chopped wood for two hours. By midafternoon, his energy was beginning to flag and he started cleaning guns to keep his mind and hands busy. But when the phone rang, he took a shot and answered it anyway. 

“Yeah.” 

There is silence on the other end and he reaches for the end button. But before his finger lands on it, a voice comes through. 

“Bill?” 

He doesn’t recognize your voice at first. You’ve always been soft spoken, but this is different. You’ve been crying and something twists in his chest. “Yeah, I’m here.” 

“He kicked me out,” you tell him with no warble in your voice. But the next statement is more difficult for you to get out. “The horses…I don’t know…” 

“What did he do to the fucking horses?” 

“Nothing, yet.” 

That “yet” makes him just as concerned as you are right now. You getting tossed out is bad enough to make him see red but to put animals into the mix of a human dispute, that’s just unconscionable. “Where are you right now? You safe?” 

“Yeah, I’m fine. But I only have three days to find someone to take the horses. Bill, he’s going to send them to the knacker.” 

“Fucking hell.” He sits back in his chair. “How many do you have? Four, right?” 

You sniff and clear your throat. “Yeah, there’s four of them. There’s a stable in Tulsa that can take two of them because they’re therapy horses but they don’t have space for the other two.” 

“Don’t you worry about splitting them up. I’ll have a rig down there first thing in the morning to pick up all four of them. Now,” he stands up and starts putting away the cleaning kit, “what hotel are you staying in?” 

You tell him where you are and thank him in between sobs. He immediately calls his barn manager and tells him to drive the rig down to Thresher’s first thing tomorrow morning. He also tells them to throw a couple shovels and burlap bags in the back too. If he has to dig the rose bushes out himself, he will. He knows this may end the business relationship he has with Cal, but in all honesty, he doesn’t give one flying fuck. He has other weed farms; he doesn’t need one in Oklahoma. Thresher is already rich off oil and doesn’t need it either. And it’s better to end this before it even begins. 

He packs an overnight bag, locks up the house and climbs into his car. It’s a four hour drive back down to Tulsa, to the hotel name that you gave him. He spends those four hours asking himself why he’s doing this. He’s had plenty of business partners before and never paid their wives any mind. A couple of them tried to get into his bed but he never cared for the mess that it creates being involved with a married woman. But there’s something about you, something that draws him to you. 

The hotel he pulls up to is actually a motel right off the interstate. It’s in a dangerous area and the building is falling apart. This is absolutely not going to happen and he’s glad he made the trip down here tonight. The thought of you spending the night in this hellhole makes him just as angry as the horses going to the knacker. He leaves his bag in the car because he is not going to stay here tonight and neither are you. When he knocks on the door, you open it almost immediately. 

You’re still crying, eyes puffy and red. You’re in jeans and sweatshirt, no make up, and your hair is pulled back in a messy bun. You’re still the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. You immediately embrace him, pressing your face against his chest and holding on to him in a tight grip. 

“I can’t believe you’re here.” 

“I am.” He kisses your temple. “I’ll always come when you need me.” 

It’s then that he realizes, standing in the doorway of a cheap motel off the interstate in Tulsa, that he can live without seeing Cal Thresher again but he can’t live without you.

***

You’re numb. That’s the only way you can describe the feeling of walking into a suite at the Mayo with Bill. You spent the day going through the suitcases that Cal packed for you and found he had included all your clothes, the jewelry that you arrived with from your parents, and fifteen thousand dollars cash. Those were all your belongings in the world. Your credit cards and checkbook were taken. Your phone lost cell service about an hour ago. All the vehicles you drove the last six years had been part of Cal’s fleet. 

The world seems so big because you realize just how small you are. 

“Here.” Bill takes your bag out of your hand and replaces it with a glass. “Drink that.” 

You stare down into the amber liquid. Whiskey, of course. You drink it like a shot, throwing it down your throat and relishing in the burning sensation it leaves. It’s good to feel something right now. You look around the hotel room and realize it’s a suite, complete with a kitchenette, living room area, and what you assume is the bedroom further back in the space. It’s definitely a step up from where you had landed at the Oil City Motel. 

“Thank you.” You know you should expand on that simple statement. Bill needs to know the depth of the gratitude you feel for him right now. He saved your horses. He picked you up from a dangerous part of town and brought you here. You remember that moment in his car on the drive over here, when he took hold of your hand and gave it a squeeze. 

“We’re getting the rose bushes too. You, the horses, the roses, all of you are coming to KC until we figure out what to do next.” 

You play those words back in your head and the big, intimidating world gets a little smaller, a little more comforting. 

Bill brings a half-empty whiskey bottle over to you and adds more to the glass. “I told you to call me if you ever needed anything. You promised me would and you did. You kept your promise and I kept mine.” He takes a shot of whiskey straight from the bottle. “You go get a shower, watch Golden Girls or 90 Day Fiance, and get some sleep. I’ll pick you up after we get the horses.” 

Now you understand why he left his bag by the door. “You’re not staying here?” 

He gives you a slightly regretful look. “Not tonight. I’m staying down the hall.” 

“What if I want you to stay?” 

He cups your face, his thumb tracing over your cheekbone, and kisses you gently on the lips. “I would love nothing more than that, but I’m not going to have our first night together be under these circumstances.” 

The circumstance is you thinking you owe him something and you realize, he’s not exactly wrong. “Cal knows we fucked in the barn.” 

“Cal doesn’t know shit.” Bill gives you the most sinful smile. “Besides, that wasn’t fucking.” 

You give him a slightly surprised look. “It wasn’t?” 

He laughs. “No. That was just a warm-up.” He kisses you again, this time with more pressure, more want. Once again you can taste the whiskey he just drank, the smokey notes. He steps back and releases a shaky breath. “The fact you don’t know what a proper fucking feels like with a goddamn crime. One I’m going to fix. But not tonight, sweetheart.” 

You watch him leave, the door closing very quietly behind him. Your face is still warm from the whiskey and the kiss but you find yourself smiling for the first time today. How ironic it took a divorce to provide you with an example of what genuine love looks like. 

[louis--wifey]

Your Stupid Face || Texcali

Pairing: Texas x California

Warning(s): angst with a fluffy ending

Word count: 1346

Summary: Based on Your Stupid Face by Kaden MacKay

Texas would not be shocked to find out that California hated him. He didn't like him much either. They had to deal with each other because of the state meetings that they both would agree are insanely tedious. At least they could agree on something, right?

California hated Texas, hated how happy he was, hated how proud he was, hated how patriotic he was. He hated everything about him from his looks to his views. California hated Texas because he could never agree with him. Their views were so different there is no way that either of them could truly ever get along.

Sometimes Cal would like to insult Texas straight to his face and tell him that he's a disgrace to humanity but he doesn't do that. He has too much of a guilt complex to insult anyone right to their face.

That doesn't stop him from thinking mean things though, or imagining that he's saying them to Texas. He’d imagined the hurt look on his face and smiled to himself. Does that make him a horrible person?

If California could make Texas disappear without a trace then he would consider it a perfect world. But since the world could never be that great, he’ll just hate his stupid face.

California was glad that he only saw Texas on meeting days but his gladness went away when he was forced to stay at the statehouse. It didn't help that Florida and Louisiana messed with the room chart… California was placed right beside Texas and had to share a bathroom with him, New York, Washington, and Oklahoma.

Cal has lived at the statehouse for three months now. He sees Texas everyday, hears him laughing, notices his smiles. They actually started getting along.

California was shocked to say the least when Texas asked him to join him and a few other states to a movie night. He didn't really ask, he just shoved a bowl of popcorn in Cal’s hands and told him to join him in watching Monty Python and the Holy Grail.

Something about Texas suddenly asking California to do random activities with him became normal. Cal actually liked it.

At some point he laid in bed, eyes wide open at the realization that he liked Texas. He really liked Texas. “Nooo!” He’d groan to himself. How could this happen? He hated Texas, right?

California really liked how happy Texas looked. He really liked his laugh, and his smile. He just really liked his face. He’d like to tell him but how could he? They were so different. And Cal wasn't one to flaunt his love. Maybe he’d hope that Texas would notice or even say that he liked him first.

California had come to enjoy state meetings because he sat across from Texas, meaning he could stare at him. Texas did notice this, he’d notice that every time he’d notice Cal staring at him, California would turn red and look away.

Texas started talking to him more after that. They’d hang out so much it confused all the other states, did they like each other now? Yes. At some point they’d shared their first kiss.

When Texas wasn't at a meeting or even in the same room as California he felt so out of place. Like a plant without roots or a song on mute.

Part of California believed that Texas should fear being in a relationship with him. Every relationship he’d ever been in ends horribly, he'd eventually scare him away.

If the world was perfect, Texas would have never invaded California’s space. But the world is obsessed with saying “psych”. Now Cal likes his stupid face.

California and Texas have been together for a month and a half. They cuddled almost every night, watched movies together, and listened to music. California was somewhat shocked when Texas said he hadn't seen Brokeback Mountain so they watched it immediately.

Eventually California would become correct, he got too comfortable and he couldn't take it. Before he knew it, he was sabotaging his own relationship, like he’d done so many times before.

Texas and California got into a fight. A fight left Cal standing helpless in the middle of his room and Texas's back getting further away.

Cal laid curled up in his bed, thinking of what he should’ve done. Why was he like this? Finally a good thing came his way and he sabotaged it like he’d always done.

California still couldn't stop thinking about Texas and how much he missed his face, his smile, his laugh, his touch… But it didn't matter now, Texas was probably disgusted by him, by his stubbornness.

California knew life was cruel and that he was cruel to himself. He was foolish to trust himself, he was foolish to trust Texas. He knew he was being senseless. How could he be so naive? How could he be naive enough to put his heart in his sleeve knowing that he would drop it himself.

If the world was perfect Texas would be in California’s embrace. Since the world denied him one last kiss, Cal will just miss his stupid face.

Three weeks passed after their break up. California was startled by a knock on his bedroom door. He stood from his bed and opened his door. Cal was shocked to see Texas standing there.

California’s breath caught in his throat. “What are you doing here?” He asked, he came out much more coldly than he met for it to be.

Texas stood there for a minute, “I thought about you. After you ran away-”

“I didn't run away!” California crosses his arms defensively. He paused for a moment. “It was, it was a strategic retreat.”

Texas gave him a look and rolled his eyes in a superficial way. “I want to talk to you.”

“What is there to talk about?” California asked in an almost theatrical manner. “It's over, I ruined it.”

“Well… Are you sorry?” Texas asked, he tilted his head to the side as he did.

“Well, yeah, of course I'm sorry, but-” California started, he couldn't forgive himself even though he was sorry.

“Then I forgive you.” Texas stepped towards Cal and placed his hand on his cheek.

“No, no, don't forgive me!” California snapped and pushed Texas's hand away from him. “Why do you do that? Why, why give me another chance to mess things up?”

Texas swatted California’s hand away and placed his back on Cal’s cheek. “Because I love you.”

California stood there in complete shock. “Because you, what?”

Those three words were completely uncalled for, especially from Texas. Why didn't he hate him? Why did he care? Couldn't he just barate him? Wouldn't that be fair?

How could he leave their problems and pain on the shelf! If Texas didn't hate California then he couldn't hate himself. But maybe that's why Cal needed him, he shattered his fear. Despite his misdeed, Texas was still right there.

California thinks that it was stupid to date him but Texas was willing to try. If Tex didn't hate him, why should he?

California stared up at Texas. “Are you sure you don't want to give up on me?”

Texas smiled down at Cal. “I’m sure.”

“You're a moron…” California muttered as Texas leaned forward and kissed him.

So Texas thought that they could work? Here, California thought he was the dumb one. Texas smirked down at California. “What?” California asked as he pouted.

Texas forgave him for all he did wrong, he was unmuting a song, and California felt like he was in the right place. Once again he belonged to someone.

California wished Texas would drop his stupid smirk, though by now he'd earned that. No matter how intensely Cal would pout, Tex’s would always win out, it's time California learned that.

Though they went together like a Chanel No. 5 and mace. At least it's not as dull as fitting like a glove. Texas is a nightmare that California had not been dreaming about. When push came to shove, California loved his stupid face.

[sinning5sos]

close | Calum

Requested: no just up calums ass 

Word Count: ~3,100

Smut:  lots of angst then sweet missionary <3

It was movie night with friends, and you were currently curled up on the couch by yourself while your roommate was on the opposing couch with her boyfriend, and you felt slightly envious of the physical touch but you pushed the thought to the side. You had just recently broken up with your boyfriend of over a year, and were missing all of the normalcy that came from your relationship.

That’s why your roommate was having a movie night, to get your mind off of everything. Some raunchy comedy was on the tv, but you weren’t really paying attention. Your gaze fell onto Calum, who was lying down on the floor, sprawled out between the two couches and you had a small smile on your face as he laughed loudly.

“Hey, pass the popcorn,” Calums voice rose from the floor and you sighed as you glanced down at him. You thought about just passing it down to him, but you wanted to keep it for yourself.

“Or, you can just move up here. It’d be a lot easier,” you muttered, and he sighed dramatically as he pushed off the floor and sat up, “Just saying,”

“I just thought you might have wanted your space,” he said, and you rolled your eyes as you moved your legs in front of you to empty the couch beside you. You lifted the blanket and let it fall over your body once more. 

“Yeah but it’s you Cal, it’s different.” you said, and he smiled as he climbed up the couch and you leaned back against it. It was different. Before you and your ex had started dating, you were very much interested in Calum. You pushed all of your feelings, pushed the memories of when the two of you had nearly hooked up but stopped at the last second, pushed everything including Calum away.

The two of you drifted apart in the last year, it was too confusing but you missed him. You looked to the side, watching Calum as his focus was still on the movie. He had a small smile on his face, but it got wider the moment that he noticed your attention was on him.

“My favorite thing is the little lines that you get around your eyes when you smile,” You whispered, and his smile grew even more. 

“Hey, we’re going to go out to the bar. Do you guys want to come with?” Your roommate interrupted, but you shook your head. There was only one good bar in town, and you had a strong feeling that your ex was already there, most likely drunk and you did not want to deal with that. 

“No, I’m good.” Calum answered, and you were surprised as he normally loved going out, “I’ll stay here and keep her company.”

“You don’t have to do that,” You said, elbowing him slightly but he chuckled as he nodded. 

“You’re right, but I want to. It’s been a while,” He said. You smiled down at your lap and sighed. The two were moving back and forth throughout the apartment before they finally said their goodbyes and left out the front door. 

“Here, you can stretch your legs back out.” Calum whispered to you, and you nodded as you lifted the blanket and let your legs fall onto his lap. He set his palm against your calf, letting it rest there and you nodded in approval at the small action. 

After a few minutes, he started to slide his hand back and forth, and you hummed at the physical contact. You missed him, you missed him more than you could have imagined. 

“I missed you Cal,” You whispered, and he chuckled as he nodded. 

He dragged his finger along the underside of your foot, and you giggled as you let your head rest on his shoulder. “I missed you too darling,”

“It’s been too long.” You said, and he sighed but nodded. You both go quiet as you get invested in the movie and when two characters confess feelings, Calum breaks the silence. 

“I felt so guilty for having feelings for you, I felt so goddamn guilty.” He murmured, and you frowned as you pulled away. 

You sit up and pull your legs away from him to cross them, resting your hands in your lap, before you question what he means,  “Guilty for what?”

He lets out a huff and reaches for his beer, taking a drink before holding in between his thighs so he can rub his face with both hands. “The last time you visited me on tour,” He avoids your gaze and you know what he meant immediately, but remains silent. “I pretended I didn’t remember because you hurt me and I didn’t want to show it, I didn’t want to show you how much you meant to me and how badly you hurt me. And I felt guilty because I kissed you, I kissed you knowing that you were leaving and going home to some guy that wasn’t me.” 

He paused to take another drink and chewed on his lip for a moment before continuing. “I kissed you knowing you had feelings for someone else and that we couldn’t be together but in that elevator, I wanted you so bad I would have done anything for you. I felt disgusting because I knew you didn’t want anything with me and I kissed you and said things I shouldn't have, knowing you were in a relationship with someone and that I shouldn’t have.” 

He meets your gaze for the first time to gauge your reaction and when you don’t say anything he speaks again, “I couldn’t sleep at all that night. I wanted to go and apologize. I wanted to just knock on your door and beg for your forgiveness. I hated myself for it.”

“I’m sorry Cal,” You whispered and he shrugged his shoulders as he looked away from you. 

“It’s not your fault is it? But the guilt just kept gnawing at me. I wanted you to be unhappy in that relationship, I just wanted it to end. I’m so fucking disgusted with myself,” He trailed off and your eyes stung slightly as you thought about what you put him through. You didn’t quite remember that there was more to your history that the two of you shared until it finally hit you, and then you realized.

You had confessed the feelings that you had for Calum right before he left to go on the new promo tour. You knew deep down that it wasn’t a good idea, he would be leaving and it wasn’t good to have the foundation of your relationship be on when he would ever be home.

It would just have been too difficult to manage, and so instead, the two of you remained friends. Between the promo tour, music festivals and then a whole new tour after that to go along with the album release, there just wasn’t time for the two of you to have a relationship.

And then, Calum left.

That was when you met him. The fun little fling that turned into friends with benefits and then into somewhat of a steady relationship. He knew about Calum from the start, he knew about the complicated relationship between the two of you.

In between the stages of the fun little fling and friends with benefits, you visited Cal while he was on tour. You told him that you were flying out to see Calum, and he was unsure about it but didn’t want to seem controlling or annoying in any way. 

“What do you mean, you have a friend with benefits?” Calum snorted, and raised the bottle up to his lips once again. You glared at him for a moment before leaning back into the couch.

“And you don’t? Please Cal, I’ve heard about your hookups throughout the different places. At least someone over here cares enough to tell me,” You muttered and he frowned as he looked up at you.

“You’re right, I’m sorry.” He said, and you rolled your eyes and he set his palm on top of your knee and squeezed gently, “Really, I am sorry.”

“Cal, it hurts hearing it but it’s fine. We agreed that we wouldn’t make a relationship out of this so I get it,” You said and he shrugged his shoulders as he removed his hand. 

“Yeah, I get it. But screw this, let’s go out. Let’s go have fun, I didn’t fly you all the way out here to sit in this hotel room. There’s a club in the lobby of the hotel, let’s go down.” He said, and you nodded as the two of you got up and got ready to go out for the night.

***

The music in the club was still pulsating through your body, even now as the two of you were headed toward the elevator. One drink had turned into two, then three, then you slowly lost count as you danced with Calum.

Your shoulder grazed his, your fingers dancing near each other as you continued walking before you whined and huffed. Your feet were hurting, the shoes digging into them so Calum stopped you and helped you take your shoes off.

“I got you Princess,” He mumbled and you giggled as you continued walking, now barefoot and he held your heels in his hands. He helped you as you stumbled slightly, a drunk grin on his face as he slid his free hand down to your hip. The two of you leaned on each other for support as you waited for the elevator doors to open, and he held you firmly against him.

“You smell so fucking good,” He murmured against your hair, pressing a kiss against your head. He hummed quietly to you, the sound making you feel at home. You wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling him closer to you. You kissed his chest gently, thinking about how much you missed him when the elevator doors opened. A few people filed out, and as the two of you went in you had the elevator to yourselves.

He pushed you back against the wall and dropped your heels in one smooth motion, his hands now coming up to cup your face.

“God I want to taste you,” He whispered before pressing his lips against yours. You were surprised at first, but melted into the kiss and ran your hands up his chest to his neck. He continued the kiss, eagerly pressing into you before pulling back and trailing kisses down your neck.

“I missed you so goddamn much,” He murmured between kisses, peppering them along your throat.

“Cal,” You exclaimed, noticing the button lights weren’t lit, “You didn’t even press our floor.”

He rolled his eyes but pulled back to press his floor, the light now lit up and the elevator started moving. He moved quickly back over to you and wrapped you in his arms, breathing out heavily.

“Good, it gives me more time for you,” He murmured against your neck, “I’d give this all up for you. Just say the words.”

Hearing that sobered you up, and you leaned back against the wall and pressed your forehead against his. He tried kissing you again, but you turned your head at the last moment. He couldn’t mean it. He was drunk. He was just excited. The doors opened with a slight ding, and you moved past him to start going toward your room. As you opened your door, you turned back to see him, your heels still on the ground beside him as he had a broken look on his face.

You almost changed your mind.

He called your name as you slipped into your room, and heard his footsteps echo yours down the hall but you locked the door behind you. You heard him mumble out a quiet ‘fuck’, then heard him go into his own room. You took a deep breath as you leaned against your door, trying to process through everything that just happened within five minutes. Instead of acknowledging any of it, you decided to pass out for the night. 

***

A knock on your door sounded, and you rolled out of bed to answer it. You opened it to reveal a very hungover Calum, and you wondered if how you looked rivaled him.

“We gotta get you to the airport.” He mumbled, and you winced as your head was pounding. 

“Do you want to talk about last night?” You asked, but Calum just shook his head. You took a deep breath and was about ready to bring it up when he interrupted.

“I don’t remember anything from last night. Get ready, I’ll go grab food and meet you back here in twenty.” 

You shut the door behind him, gathered your things and took a quick shower. The water helped you feel refreshed, but you still couldn’t properly form thoughts on what happened last night. You wanted to talk about it with Calum, but he claimed to not remember.

Calum returned shortly and grabbed your bags as he offered you a breakfast sandwich. You gratefully accepted it, and walked down the hall into the elevator.

“Calum, are you sure you don’t remember anything from last night?” You prompted again, but he shook his head.

“No. I told you that already. Let’s just get you to the airport so you can go home.”

“I still have those heels of yours. I never had a chance to give them back to you. I don’t think I wanted to let go of them,” He muttered, his eyes avoiding yours, “I’ve wanted to bring it up every single day but I never knew how.”

“You should have Calum. I missed you so goddamn much.” You whispered, and he turned to face you.

“We can make up for lost time. Or we can start over. Or we can do whatever you want to do.” He nearly pleaded, and you sighed as you took his hand in yours and squeezed it gently.

“I just want you Calum, that’s all I ever wanted.” You replied, and he had a small smile on his face. He pulled you closer to him, your faces just inches from each other. It was like a game of chicken, on who was going to kiss who first. You decided to initiate the kiss, and pressed your lips against his.

“Can we finish what we started in the elevator? I still want to taste you,” He breathed against your lips and you giggled slightly. 

“My room. Now Hood.” You instructed, and he picked you up off of the couch. You laughed against his shoulder and wrapped your legs around his waist as he carried you over to your bedroom. He let you fall gently onto the bed, and took his shirt off in one smooth motion. You ripped off your own shirt, and he let out a low whistle as he climbed onto the bed with you.

“You’re nearly making it worth the wait Princess,” He murmured, connecting your lips once again. You leaned into the kiss and wrapped your arms around the back of his neck, nearly pulling him closer to you.

“I’ve thought about kissing you again nearly everyday since that fucking elevator.” You breathed against his lips, and he pulled back to make eye contact with you.

“I’m sorry I lied to you,” He whispered, and you shook your head as you pulled him closer.

“That’s done now Calum. We’re moving forward now,” You said, and he nodded. 

“Are you sure?” He asked, and it was your turn to nod as you were extremely sure. 

“Fuck me,” You whispered to him and he chuckled as he snuck his fingers into the waistband of your pants.

“That’s the plan.”

He pulled them down, revealing no panties underneath and he looked up at you with a smile on his face. He pulled his own pants down, and you grabbed a condom from the bedside table. He put it on himself and you spread your legs for him, and he knelt between them.

He spit into his hand and wrapped it around his cock, pumping it a few times as your own hand went between your legs. You rubbed your clit, moaning slightly at the contact and he lined himself up with your entrance. He pushed inside, and you threw your head back as he gave you time to adjust.

“Fuck, I didn’t know you were this big.” You breathed out and he chuckled.

“Didn’t you see my nudes circulating?” He muttered, and you shook your head as he started testing you. He rocked his hips back and forth, and you moaned at the feeling of him filling you up.

“Wanted to respect your privacy,” You mumbled and he smiled as he leaned down to kiss you.

“Yeah, you’re really doing that now.” He murmured, moving to kiss your forehead, “You feel so fucking good.”

“It’s been the lost time between us making it feel better,” You whispered, and he rolled his eyes as he paused his thrusts, “Don’t stop fucking me.”

“Alright, bossy aren’t you baby girl?” 

You smiled up at him as you wrapped your hand around his bicep, holding onto him for stability as he continued thrusting into you. Maybe it was the fact that you haven’t been fucked in a little bit, or the fact that he felt so good, but you were already close to cumming. You whimpered as you threw your head back, and he took it as an opportunity to latch his lips onto your neck again.

“Tell me how good I’m making you feel,” He breathed against your neck, and you leaned back up to wrap your arms around his neck to pull you closer to him. It was the lack of touch from him recently, but you just wanted to be so close to him.

“You’re making me feel so fucking good Cal,” You moaned out, and he sucked in a breath, “Oh, I’m going to cum.”

“Good, cum for me Princess.” He muttered, and you wrapped your legs around the back of his waist as he continued thrusting into you. You let yourself become unraveled, cumming on his cock and you whimpered as he continued his thrusts.

“Fuck,” He moaned, his hips stilling as he came shortly after you, and you relished in the post orgasm euphoria as he cleaned himself up, then you, and laid in bed beside you.

“I’ve waited for years to do that,” He whispered, and you turned on your side to let him lay behind you. He wrapped his arm around your waist, tucking your body into his, “I won’t wait so long to do it again, I promise you that.”

[miheartsedthings]

good morning, with billy !

Lovely ~ @billysbot

Thanks for being patient while I worked on this. It's kinda angsty, but ends on fluff. Hope you like it!

Words: ~ 3,000

SFW Billy x Reader

Summary: Billy moves back to California with scars and unfinished business with you. He shows up to a party you're throwing. As usual, the two of you are the last ones awake, and it's finally time to settle your childhood beef.

Warnings: Aggressive behavior, angst, Mind Flayer, fluff

Billy’s been home a few months already. He has a job at his buddy’s surf shop and an apartment Susan insisted on putting him up in. What he doesn't have is the nerve to call you. The events at Star Court left him changed, and as he sat in the hospital through graduation, he couldn’t stop thinking about the road that had led him there. All the anger and resentment he’d brought with him to Hawkins, all the ways those negative emotions had torn through him, bringing out the very worst. Sure, some of it had been that monster, but there was plenty of darkness for it to feed on. Wrath he’d cultivated and thrived on. The Flayer had only taken advantage, turned it on him so he could feel it just as harshly as he inflicted it on others.

Steve, Nancy, and the kids all regarded him differently. With reverence and a little weariness. They had never trusted him, and now they never would. The only exception to this was Max. After the Mind Flayer was gone, she treated Billy like a brother, and in his injured state, he was in no position to refuse it. She visited him in the hospital, with food, and mixtapes she'd made of new songs coming out. He was grateful for her, happy the rest of them were alive. But he needed to get away. 

Hawkins was a different place in the wake of that nightmare. Every shadow filled with movement, every sound insidious. Even the buildings themselves were strange. Besides, he was shaken, and there was no more energy for keg stands and ripping around town in the Camaro. He needed to rest in a place that felt safe. To rediscover the person he’d been before Hawkins, before his mom’s desertion. He needed to go home.  

As soon as he was well enough, he packed up the Camaro and took off, bound for California. Max refused to cry but he could tell she was sad. It was wild for Billy to think his little brat of a step-sister would miss him. Back in Cali, the scenery was brighter, but Billy was flooded with memories of his childhood; days that were full to the brim with you. 

The two of you met as kids, taking swimming lessons at the local pool. You were partnered up one day and from then on you were inseparable. You went to different schools, which didn't stop you from meeting every weekend to go swimming or hit the arcade or the movie theater. You spent Summer days riding your bikes around town trying to find trouble. He was the person you'd talk to when you fought with your girlfriends. Your house was where he ran when things got hard with his dad. You were best friends until the day his mom disappeared. 

It was your junior year of high school. You'd watched each other change and grown attached to each other's company. Even though you'd both dated and cared for other people, you'd never felt for anyone else the way you felt about each other. The line between friendship and love was so thin the slightest pressure could’ve broken it. You thought you’d have the courage to confess your feelings that summer before senior year. Then, one day, he didn't wanna talk to you anymore.

“Are you kidding?” 

You sat there on your bike, watching him flick a lighter over and over just to see the flame spring to life before letting it extinguish. All you knew was that his mom was gone, not how, or when or why. 

“You're really not gonna tell me what happened?”

He sat on his porch steps, his face etched into a frown. He was acting tough but you could tell he'd been crying. When his eyes lifted to yours you expected they would soften like usual, but he glared at you. 

“Hello?” You called. 

He looked away. That's when you hopped off your bike, letting it fall in the grass, and snatched for the lighter. He shoved you away. You landed hard on your wrist, an instant burst of pain making you cry out. Usually when you horsed around and one of you got hurt, the other would snap out of it. Apologize. He just stood there on the porch steps, glaring down at you. 

“Don't act like you care.” He sneered.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

He turned to walk inside and something desperate let loose inside you. The need to reverse whatever was happening by whatever means necessary. 

“William.”

He stopped in his tracks. 

Slowly, he turned, his eyes full of ice. For a moment you thought good, I have his attention. Then, he came down the steps and grabbed you by your injured wrist, yanking you to your feet. It didn't seem to matter that he was hurting you. He got in your face, glaring with such coldness. 

“Don't you ever. EVER fucking call me that.” 

His eyes were stone, his lips pinched into a tight line, and for the first time in your life, you were afraid of him. You felt yourself shrinking away, and when he let you go you stumbled back, tripped over your bike, and landed hard on the sidewalk. 

The boy you'd grown up with was gone, and in his place was someone too full of anger to get close to. He was a burning sun. 

The two of you stopped speaking. 

A couple of weeks later you heard a rumor he was moving, and then he was gone. 

Billy has looked back on the day he pushed you so many times. Every time he remembers the look on your face, all that pain and confusion, it fills him with regret. He wanted more than anything to call you and apologize, but every time he picked up the phone he found himself frozen, just staring at it. What would he say? How could he explain? In the end, he heard from one of his old buddies that you were throwing a party, and he resolved to be there. He'd say what he needed to say. One way or another. 

“Happy Youcla?”

Piper makes a face looking at the banner Tracy made, and Tracy makes a face back. 

“You-C-LA. It's like, an acronym. For UCLA?” 

“Okay. Why?” Piper asks. 

“It's fine,” you interject before the two can start fighting again, “It's cute. It's unique, Trac, I love it.” 

Your friend group is…eclectic, and only on special occasions do they tolerate each other for your benefit. Your college going-away party is just the thing to bring them all together for one night. Which didn't stop it from being nerve-wracking. The house is yours for one more weekend, your parents away on a strategically planned vacation, giving you space for one final iconic L/N bash. Your friends have pulled out all the stops, decorating, sourcing booze and grass, one of them even offering to DJ. 

The party is going well, friends from high school plus some people you’ve never even met crowd into the house, sitting along the stairs and standing in the halls. Filling the house with noise and laughter. You quickly get lost in it, drinking and dancing. Your head is empty until Billy walks in. 

He takes you completely by surprise. You recognize his face, of course (who could forget that face?) but the rest of him is a shock. Growing up, both of you were a couple of dorks. Your mothers dressed the two of you in corduroy and plaid. Matching Mickey Mouse sweatshirts. Now he's wearing denim and leather, putting a cigarette out in an abandoned solo cup. His chest is clearly bulky under his red button-up, and he saunters through the foyer with an undeniable magnetism that draws dozens of eyes. 

He's fucking hot.

His eyes scan the crowd, and then he sees you. He pauses mid-stride and stares at you for a long moment, a little smirk curling his lips. You turn away, your whole body flushing hot. God damn. Your childhood bestie is a certified smokin'-hot baddie. When you glance back he's flanked by a few of your friends who didn't grow up around here. He gives them well-meaning smiles, but his eyes come back to yours, making you look away again. 

Fuck.

You thought you'd be ready when B-boy came back, but you can hardly stand his gaze. You didn't expect he'd be this fuckin fine. You’d always found him cute, but it was nothing like this! Now, he's being mobbed by girls the second he enters a party. You find yourself wondering how you look compared to your old self. Billy used to tease you about your looks, and now here he is. You move around the corner into the living room, taking another long drink to take your mind off things. 

“Is that who I think it is?” Piper says, coming into the living room with you. “Is that B-boy Hargrove?”

You make a weak, anxious noise and drain your cup, your body buzzing. 

“Holy shit.” Piper continues “He’s a fuckin smoke show.”

You have to buy yourself time to figure out how to talk to him without losing your mind. What on Earth would you even say? You spend the night dodging him. Luckily, everyone's eager for his ear and keep flocking to him, flooding him with questions. You’re sure he hates it, the smell of desperation always annoyed him, but you aren’t ready. Your wrist had been sprained that day and ever since it tends to ache when you’re upset, as you are now. Your heart is thumping out of your chest, and old bitterness is filling your throat. 

At some point, you're heading into the garage for more beer, and just as you're opening the extra fridge the door to the house opens and there he is. Billy stands there looking you up and down. Your body is warm and you're full of nerves. 

“Hey.” You manage. You clear your throat and grab the six pack you'd come for. “I don't know why everyone insists on these being ice cold.” You say, at a loss for words. At least, words that make any sense. “I mean, of course, you don't want warm beer but it gives you a damn brain freeze sometimes.” 

He's standing there stone-faced, looking at you so seriously you wonder if he's come with bad news. 

“We should talk.”

Your breath catches in your lungs, staying there for a moment. 

“About what?” You shrug, panicking. 

Of all the ways you thought you'd react to Billy coming home, you didn't think it'd be like this. At the moment, all you want is to scramble away from him. Escape the tangle of emotions welling up inside you. The anger you thought you’d let go of, and the sadness underneath it. He’d thrown you away. There's so much you wanna say to him. Too much.

“Ya know, we were kids, B. It's whatever. I gotta get this beer inside, though.” 

You approach him, hoping he'll move, and when he doesn't you're forced to confront the reality of how he looks. He’s fucking beautiful, and he’s looking at you like he wants to say something. You're right in front of him and memories are flooding you, rushing around in a whirlpool. 

The time the two of you hid in the mall until it closed, or hacked one of the PAC Man games at the arcade and used the bounty of quarters to go hog wild in the candy store. The night you had your first kiss stolen by some jerk at summer camp and Billy kept ranting about finding the guy and beating him up for you. 

His desire to defend you had put you at ease. 

“You're a babe now, but you're still a chicken.” He says with a smirk. 

“You're one to talk.” 

You brush past him, successfully avoiding him for the rest of the night. 

The house is quiet and littered with abandoned cups. Here and there things are where they shouldn’t be; a throw pillow on the stairs, a desk lamp in the bathroom. It’s so close to sunrise and you’re so tired, but you can’t sleep. You can never sleep after a party. So you go downstairs, finally leaving your room where you’d been hiding out (crying), and make your way to the living room. Someone left the TV on, and Singin' in the Rain is playing at a low volume. Gene Kelly, Debbie Reynolds, and Donald O’Connor are tapping through the opening number. You pull a throw blanket from the floor and wrap it around yourself. Just as you’re getting comfortable on the couch, you hear rustling in the kitchen. Billy emerges with a coffee mug. 

You both pause, and he leans against the archway, looking as comfortable as ever. Like he belongs there in your home.

“Can’t sleep.” he says.

You're too tired to scurry away and let him sit beside you.

“Since when do you drink coffee?”

“They gave it to me all the time at the hospital.” 

This gets your attention.

“You got hurt?”

“It's a long story.” 

The two of you sit side by side, falling into a comfortable silence. His presence beside you is warm and familiar. 

“You’re different.” he says. 

“Yeah well, so are you. Ladies man now.”

He smirks a real cocky little grin that doesn’t last. It melts away while he’s looking into the mug, and it's replaced with a forlorn expression. He’s nervous. You can always tell when he’s nervous.

“For a while, I thought I’d never see you again," you say. 

His grip tightens around the cup. It’s the novelty mug you got from Virginia Beach the summer you turned 12. A vacation you'd shared with Billy and his parents. 

“How was Indiana, anyway?”

He groans, leaning back against the couch. 

“A fuckin nightmare. And I mean that in so many ways, when I tell you about all the shit…” 

He looks at you, his eyes groggy from alcohol and lack of sleep. 

“It was like that time I got stuck in the Devil's Mansion at the county fair.”

You nod at the memory.

“I remember. You freaked out, and started breaking all the puppets.” 

His eyes are clouded with memories, and the kind of fear you haven’t seen in him in a long time. He’s come home haunted. Injured. Your heart beats hard in your chest. 

“There's so much I wanna tell you.” he says. 

“Just start by saying you're sorry.”

His blue eyes are the ones you recognize. 

“I am, Y/n. I think about that day all the time.” 

You look at him and see the boy you grew up with. 

“What happened?” 

He sighs, taking a beat to reach that tender place he hides away. It's hard for him, even with you. 

“She left. She just left that morning and she didn't say shit to me.” 

Your eyes tear up as he lets this out, replaying the day he’d hurt you. 

“But that didn't mean I had to take it out on you.”

You bit the inside of your cheek to keep the tears at bay. 

“It kinda…you kinda fucked me up that day..."

Your voice is strained, feather fragile. He sets down the coffee and turns his body to face you, pulling his leg up on the couch so there’s only a small wedge of space between yourself and his lap. His face is tight, and he runs his hands into his hair the way he does when he's frustrated. 

“I know, I'm- I'm fuckin sorry, I…I've been thinking about all this shit lately. I've hurt a lot of people, and it all started that day. You were the first person and you didn't deserve it.” 

You can't help it anymore, you're swelled with emotions and the tears start coming. You wipe them on your sleeve. He looks so sad to see you cry, his face growing red. 

“Ya know,” you begin “My biggest fear for a while was that you'd never apologize, and we'd never go surfing on Lizard Island.” 

He laughed. It filled him with so much relief that you were the same sentimental weirdo he'd left over a year ago. 

“You forgive me?” He asked. 

Outside, the first rays of sunlight were peeking through, and on the screen, the trio tapped across a grand foyer singing ‘Good mornin’, good mooornin’!’ 

“Yeah, B,” you manage, your voice breaking “I forgave you a long time ago.” 

He smiles, and in the light of morning, it’s the most beautiful thing you've ever seen. You can't stand it anymore, you lean over and kiss him and he pulls you into his arms, your body falling into his warm lap. He kisses you deeply, taking your lips and tongue in a greedy show of affection. 

The sweetest ‘Good Morning’ you’ve ever known. 

 

Thanks for the request! ~

[astoldbyaja]

Bark like you want it! -Ch. 6~AU Demon Slayer~

Pullin' out the coupe at the lot

Told 'em fuck 12, fuck SWAT

Bustin' all the bells out the box

I just hit a lick with the box

Had to put the stick in a box, mmh

Pour up the whole damn seal, I'ma get lazy

I got the mojo deals, we been trappin' like the '80s

She sucked a n*gga soul, gotta Cash App

Told 'em wipe a n*gga nose, say slatt, slatt

I won't never sell my soul, and I can back that

And I really wanna know, where you at, at?

I ground my hips with the beat of the music, flipping my hair and rotating my hips in a circular motion that made me smile as the music continued playing. I let my hands roam my body in happiness as I was engulfed in the ocean of people just wanting to forget their problems. I was one of them! I didn’t want to think about Akaza or Kyojuro or their lust of my body. No tonight it was all about me. A group of women came over, complimented my beauty and asked if they and their boyfriends could dance with me. It was a total of six.

I’ve seen then on campus before, so I was a bit familiar with who they were. I nodded and the men kept it respectful, only sensually touching their girlfriends who occasionally ground their hips and bodies on me of which I didn’t mind. Suddenly the music transitioned into 40 Cal by Hairatage and I was ready to really cut lose to the beat of the music!

I got some haters talking, they've been getting rookie nails They want to go to war, I chew 'em up just like my fingernails I roll with shadows, fuck the jail I can't afford the bail, but if I do they know I get it poppin' like the 40 Cal!

I curled my arms over my face, my braids over my face and popped my chest out immediately shaking my ass with the sharp rift of the music. Everyone was going crazy at the sharp music. The club was truly brought to life, the heat rising from everyone’s fast body movements and the smell now a mixture of different sweat. I wanted to drink tonight, I wanted to fuck tonight! I wanted to do whatever the fuck I wanted! As more relaxed dance music began to play, I began to move from the dance floor, letting my body droop against the bar. Since I needed to have my wits about me, I decided a water was the best I was going to get tonight. My heart was fluttering from utter happiness, the adrenaline overtaking me. My body was begging for more fun, the crowd felt as if it were calling me back into it.

I just needed to catch my breath. I pulled my phone from my dress’ pocket, happy it had a zip up fold so I would never lose it. I checked my messages.

Mitsuri: How are you doing?

Me: All good, shouldn’t be out too long. Hope your date is going well!

Mitsuri: Aw good I’m glad and yes it’s going well. Text me when you’re on your way home!

Me: Will do!

Kyojuro: Hey hope your night is going well. I heard you were going out to the club tonight. If things get weird with anyone there, don’t hesitate to reach out.

Me: Thanks, I’m good. Have a good weekend.

I did not need to ask him about his day, his evening or anything! His intentions were not pure, and I would refuse to think he could actually convince me otherwise.

Akaza: WYA

Me: The Unholy

Akaza: *Typing…* With who??

Me: Me, myself and I.

Akaza: Why didn’t you tell me you were going dancing! I would have loved to go dancing with you.”

I stiffened.

Me: That sounds like a date and I don’t do dates.

Akaza: So you’d rather go straight to the really sweaty work out then?

Me: I’m going back on the dance floor.

Akaza: I’m on my way over there.

Me: Fine then I’m leaving.

Akaza: Don’t be like that. Come on I can throw down! Besides nothing would make us both happier than to feel that ass grinding up on my-”

I tucked my phone back in my dress and looked at the bartender who was on the other side of the bar. He was a tall man with a handsome face and long flowing black hair.

“Hi, I’d like to pay for the water!” I replied waving to him. The man turned and smirked at me.

“On the house since you made my night with that hot dancing of yours!” he called out before winking at me. I smiled and dipped my head some in embarrassment.

“Thank you!” I called out. However, a flash of long black hair and a big grin is all I could make out before me.

“Hey cutie, how ‘bout I buy you the next round!” a boisterous voice said. Standing before me was a tall man in a black fishnet tank and green baggy jeans was leaning over the bar, cheek planted in his palm. I blinked rapidly.

“You wish to buy me another round of water?” I asked. He snickered.

“Of course! Gotta stay hydrated if you plan to dance again!” he said. “The name’s Karaku! I see you a lot on campus, so that makes us classmates in a way. What’s your name?”

Our campus was pretty big how exactly did he see me?

“Yara!” I said over the heavy music which only made the man lean in a bit so he could hear

“Yara? Wow that’s a pretty name! Never heard it before! So that’s makes you my first!” he said. I gave a polite smile however I wasn’t sure where this conversation was going, and I really wanted to dance to a few more songs before it was time to call a cab. “Say you have some really pretty hair, Yara, it makes you look like a goddess! Black women have the most exotic hair styles!”

And now he’s lost my attention and my tense face at his compliment told me so. I didn’t like the word exotic being used to describe me or anything on me. Made me feel weird.

“Thanks!” I said stiffly before leaning off the bar and trying to wave a goodbye to him, before he caught my hand.

“Say, I’m here tonight with three of my brothers! We’ve been studying hard cramming for the upcoming midterms you know how it is, and we were wondering if maybe you’d like to dance with us!” he offered before point pointing over my shoulder toward the very end of the bar where three men, identical to Karaku, were looking at me with different emotions on their faces. One looked to be glaring slightly, nodding his head up at me as if saying ‘sup with his eyes. He wore a red tank and black jeans. I could see the two sleeve tattoos that covered his muscular arms.

Waving happily beside him was a man in a black tank top under a yellow jacket and brown shorts. His wrists were wrapped with yellow bands and yellow beaded necklace sat loose on his neck. Beside him was a nervous, almost sad looking man in a blue and white striped uniform and he looked almost nervous.

Woah, I had never seen a set of quadruplets before, and I couldn’t help but look from then back to Karaku who just smirked.

“Wow, and all four of you want to dance with me, why?” I asked. There were many cute and attractive women in the club tonight and it made me suspicious that a group of men wanted to just dance with me when there were so many other options.

“Absolutely. The way you moved on the dancefloor was just stunning. My brothers and I couldn’t take our eyes off you! You seem like a lot of fun, Yara! So how’s about it, one more dance before the night ends?” he asked.

Suddenly, a beat popped in my ears from above and my eyes widened as well as my smile as the remix version of Enya’s Only Time, Crunk in Time, was playing. I couldn’t wait anymore I had to pop off tonight. I smirked at Karaku.

“If you and your brothers can keep up tonight, then sure, one dance.” I replied before pushing off the bar, taking his hand and guiding him to the dance floor, my hips dipping and swaying from side to side with the beat of the music. I noticed the three brothers moving off the bar and following us to the dance floor and slowly approached me with pleased looks on their faces as they each stood in a perfect square around me.

“I’m Sekido!” the brother in red said harshly making me jump a bit, but I smiled nonetheless from genuine amusement. He stood in front of me.

“I’m Urogi the fun one!” the brother in yellow said as he stood on the left of me.

“Ha as if!” Karaku shouted from behind me, his hand already palming my bottom which I didn’t mind.

“And I’m Aizetsu!” the brother in blue said on my right. He looked nervous almost.

“I’m Yara!” I said with a smile noticing how all four of these men smelled really good. I liked that. The men were moving their hips with the beat of the music as was I.

I began to move my hips in a circular motion so a part of me would graze each of the men’s body giving them each an inch of attention. I began to silently lip sync Enya’s part smiling at all of the men’s amused faces. The looks didn’t look malicious. Everyone around us was swaying themselves waiting for the real fun to start.

“Who can say where the road goes, where the day flows only time. Who can say where the road goes, where the day flows only time (SHAKE THAT-)

My mind was gone, captured by the beat of the music as everyone threw their hands up and shook their bodies giving their all to the music.

“GET CRUNK WITH IT, GET LOOSE WITH IT!” everyone sang shaking their hips and grinding against the partners. Karaku and Sekido kept their hands on hips grinding their hips on me when they could, while I had my hands on Aizetsu’s and Urogi’s cheeks smiling and laughing with them as they moved their bodies against my sides.

“SHAKE THAT ASS REAL FAST THEN DROP! SHAKE IT LIKE A SALTSHAKER! SHAKE IT LIKE A SALTSHAKER! SHAKE IT LIKE A SALTSHAKER!” people sang and shake it I did. I could feel my ass vibrating on command of the music digging into Karaku’s crotch.

“Fuck yes fucking shake it Yara!” the green dressed brother yelled behind. I let my hand move through my braids moving it to one side of my neck as I felt a pair of lips press into my neck from the man behind me. I told my mind to take note of it, but I found it hard from the hands moving over my body and beneath the top of my dress! I gasped realizing it was Sekido’s hand cupping one of my breasts and before I could attempt to push back, which would only get me blocked by Karaku, I feel the angry man’s tongue going down my throat. I realize my wrists are being held down by Urogi and Aizetsu, stopping me from pushing back against the man in front of me.

He's dominating my mouth, not letting my tongue get away from his as he explored every inch of my mouth.

“Sorry, Yara, but we had to see for ourselves what was so special about you!” Urogi said happily. I finally had the courage to bite the tongue that was invading me and Sekido leaned back with a growl.

“Naughty bitch bit me!” he snarled.

“Yes, Akaza was speaking so highly of you, I am sad to admit I was actually getting a little jealous.” Aizetsu told. What the fuck! Akaza… Oh damn these guys must be a part of the Kizuki.

“So, how’s about it Yara, want to play with us for a little bit? I promise you’ll enjoy every… inch of us.” Karaku purred, his tongue sliding up the shell of my ear. I stiffened heavily feeling that the grips on my wrists would not be loosened. Sekido wasn’t even going to wait fo a response because his hand came up to grip my throat as his face leaned in to mine to kiss me again.

But my feet acted fast, kicking him right in the groin.

“FUCK!” he snarled in pain as he was now caught up in the wave of dancing and being shoved into the crowd

I felt the grips on my wrists loosen and I used this time to move into the crowd and let the many shoulders push me about. I was looking for a way out of the crowd, the exit, and the four brother as a means to get away from them. I pushed my way from the crowd and pressed myself to the wall. I quickly grabbed my phone and texted fast.

Me: 911 (You shared your location)

Kyojuro: On my way! Find somewhere to lay low until I get there!

I could see Aizetsu coming from the crowd and hurried down the closest to me. I was looking for an emergency exit if anything, but I was luckily coming up on the front of the club. Where I could hide once out there, I didn’t know. The Unholy wasn’t a big place and it felt they would easily know I was in the lady’s restroom if I tried to hide there, and I didn’t need to get cornered there! Just as I was pushing myself out the door, I was immediately caught by someone I didn’t want to see.

“Yara! Wow your hair looks amazing!” he snapped catching my shoulders. I wanted to pull back, but he wouldn’t let me go.

“Please let me go, Akaza, I need to leave!” I said hurriedly looking over my shoulders. They could come at any minute! Okay, I couldn’t hide my fear through anger any longer. I was scared and I was scared shitless. I tore from Akaza’s hold and began to move down the sidewalk putting distance between me and the club. Akaza was speeding up behind me taking my hand.

“Hey woah what the fuck happened?” he yelled in panic. I needed to get out of here. I didn’t want his hand touching me. He’s one of them, they’re one of them! As I walked, a familiar shade of yellow was skipping in front of me.

“Yara, I found you!” Urogi said happily and I gasped as I saw red, blue and green appearing. I quickly back tracked and jumped behind Akaza.

“You stay the fuck away from me! All of you or I swear to God I’ll scream!” I threatened. Akaza looked at me then the four men who were walking up to him calmly and collectively.

“What the fuck did you do!” he snapped. Sekido just growled with annoyance.

“The cunt bit me and kicked me in my dick!” he snarled.

“Oh, calm down, Akaza, we were just trying to test her, to make sure she was being loyal to you and to the gang is all.” Karaku said with a purr.

“She attracts a lot of male attention whether she knows it or not. It’d be very upsetting if another guy tried to step in on what’s yours.” Aizetsu said with a pout.

“You’re all insane!” I snapped trying to step away from the group, but Akaza took my hand and wouldn’t let go as he held his other hand up.

“Okay can we all just calm the fuck down! Why the hell were you four out anyways when you were supposed to be… running errands?” he snarled. I could tell errands was code for something else. Sekido scoffed angrily.

“We earned. The club was our last errand. We saw your little toy here dancing like she’s single and couldn’t help our curiosity and thought we'd join in a dance!” he explained.

“The fuck is that supposed to mean! It seems like you wanted to do more than just dance!” I snapped still struggling from Akaza. He looked at me angrily noticing me pulling back.

“Will you please stop that!” he yelled before looking at the brothers. “Your business was not with her; you all should have left her alone!”

“Oh come on, you shared your last toy with us, we figured she was a new one to share with us!” Urogi told. My eyes widened.'

"Mother fucker." Akaza said shooting him a glare so dark, it almost caused me to miss the sound of tires screeching around the corner and now we all looked as I saw a black 2022 Toyota Tundra was jumping the curb of the sidewalk making us all jump back. I followed Akaza’s hand to the hem of his jacket and down to the back of his pants and the way he gripped the handle of his gun made my eyes pop as he pulled it from his waist band.

Gun! GUN! GUN! DANGER, DANGER, DANGER!

Popping out of the bed of the truck was Kyojuro and Sanemi, with pistols in their hands, all the while, Uzui’s window was down in the driver’s side, a very large gun in his hand that looked like it fired multiple rounds. Obanai’s body was sitting outside on the passenger window with two Glock pistols in his hands.

I looked at the four brothers to see guns in their hands pointed at the truck, and I felt my mind was ready to explode.

I noticed Kyojuro and Akaza’s guns were on each other, and I could tell they were waiting to take each other out, however I was in the line of fire.

I just wanted to dance and maybe fuck tonight. I wanted to have a wild and fun night and then go home and sleep the weekend away. Why was that so fucking hard!

[simplymelnaie-blog]

Risk //Benny cross // Part 1

As the hot sun baked down on the pavement of the sidewalk, you felt as if your skin was going to melt off. It was late June and the high temperatures were record breaking despite there still being a long summer ahead.

The sound of your heels echoed behind you as walked along the sidewalk through the neighborhood. There were kids out riding bikes and playing in the sprinklers in the front yards.

Even though it was nearing 4pm, the air was still sticky and warm. You prayed it wouldn't mess up your freshly styled hair. It had taken you 3 hours to get yourself ready and out of the house, now you just had to get to your destination.

You enjoyed walking, especially in the summer but you didn't normally have people you wanted to impress, not like today. You wanted to look nice for your date. It helped that you lived relatively close to town. But as you walked further you began to regret not  catching a ride.

Eventually you started to see the familiar store fronts and car lots come into view. By this point your purse was feeling like a ton of bricks on your shoulder and your throat was dry. You cursed yourself for not grabbing a Coke or something cool to drink on the way.

After what seemed like forever you saw the familiar peeling sign Harry's Garage and knew you had to make a pit stop before you passed out from heat exhaustion. Surely they would have something for you to cool down with.

You bounded the corner and walked in through the open garage doors that faced the street. You were greeted with the scent of oil and gasoline. The hum of a radio played from somewhere in the shop. There were two heads on the other side of a station wagon that was pulled into one of the bays and you immediately knew who they belonged to. You tried to stifle your steps and sneak around the car but a deep voice spoke up and echoed on the concrete walls, "We know you're there"

"How?" You exclaimed, stomping your heel and coming around the car fully to reveal yourself. "We could hear your heels from around the block" Cal, laughed, pointing at your feet amusingly.

There was a small fan pushing around hot air in front of them while they worked. Cal and Benny had been crouched beside a motorcycle, both sat on stools and drenched in sweat.

"I thought you weren't allowed to work on bikes in here no more" You teased, picking your hair up and off your neck for a moment of relief in front of their fan.

"Yeah well what the old guy doesn't know won't hurt him" Benny says plainly, sitting back to let Cal wrench on something within the bikes motor.

They were referring to Harry Klein who owned the car repair shop. Back years ago, you would see the old man in this shop everyday, even on Sundays. Even after he had technically retired he still worked his ass off in the shop. After a heart attack about three years ago his wife made him fully stop working and hire on some mechanics to take over. Cal and Benny basically ran the shop now, along with some other mechanics and the occasional Vandal when they were bored. It helped that Harry didn't care much as long as the cars were getting fixed on schedule.

Benny took in your appearance thinking how clean you looked compared to them. He was up to his elbows in grease and sweat and you looked like a doll. The yellow dress you wore was pretty and dainty, different from what he was used to seeing you in, but it fit you perfect. He could see the sweat glistening on your skin and had to force himself to look back down at the bike.

"It's so damn hot today" You whined, setting your purse down on the hood of the car beside where they were sitting, before walking past them and into the break room.

You'd been in this garage many times before and knew where the drinks and snacks were kept. The sound of the radio and heels echoed through the shop. After a couple minutes you emerged back to the main bay with 3 ice cold Cokes balanced in your arms.

"Here" You nudged one at Cal, who took it and immediately cracked it open.

"Here, Benny" You offered next, holding it out to him. He couldn't help but notice your nails were painted in a crisp white color that matched your heels.

He shook his head once, motioning with the wrench still in his hand, "Put it on the back of your neck, it'll cool you down"

You smiled at him and looked away quick, the way you always did, before turning on your heel and walking back to the fan. You cracked open your can, bringing it your lips and took a long sip. It was refreshing to say the least.

"What're you all dolled up for?" Cal asks, sitting his Coke on the ground next to him. He took the bottom of his shirt and wiped at the sweat above his brow.

Cal was from California and was the best mechanic around and knew his way around anything with a motor. Even though he wasn't from around here, he fit in perfect.

You set your open can down next to the fan and gathered your hair up again, doing as Benny suggested and placing the other can on the back of your neck. You immediately felt relief.

"I'm meeting some girlfriends for an early dinner" You said, rolling the can across your neck to keep the cold sensation. "I don't know why I thought it'd be a good idea to walk"

"Yeah, too hot for that" Cal chuckled, going back to what he was doing on the bike. He tapped his foot to the sound of the radio.

You rolled your eyes as he stated the obvious, "What're you boys getting up to tonight?"

"Everyone's meetin' at the club" Benny says looking up at you from his stool. He noticed that your hair looked different, big puffy curls instead of your natural hair.

You knew the club meant the Stoplight bar. It's what the Vandals had claimed as their own a couple years back when Johnny started the club.

"I might swing by later on" You nodded, feeling a little bit more relaxed with the cold compress on your neck, "but I should get going"

Benny watched you, nodding to what you said, elbows resting on his knees. He had this thing about staring at you. You'd always noticed it because he never tried to hide it.

"Uh, you wanna ride?" He offered standing up from his stool abruptly, nearly knocking over the tools Cal had between them.

Just as you were about to respond, a car pulled up in front of one of the bays. Brucie and Gail stepped out and walked into the shop. You smiled at the couple, walking hand in hand. They'd been together for as long as you could remember, despite Gail being younger than him.

"Hey kid" He smiled, walking past you to take Bennys place on the stool next to Cal, "Don't you look pretty"

"Got a hot date tonight?" Gail added, coming to stand next to you by the fan. Her long black hair was all pinned up.

"I gotta get going" You rolled your eyes at her, but couldn't hide the blush that crept onto your already warm face. You walked next to where Benny was standing, your arm brushing his as you grabbed your purse from the hood.

"The offer still stand for that ride?" You smiled up at him, fixing your purse on your shoulder.

"Yeah 'course" He muttered, wiping his grease covered hands on his pants.

"I'll take you" Gail said from behind you, "The bike will mess your pretty hair up"

"Are you sure?"

"Please, it'll be nice to get away from these guys for a little bit" She smirked, already walking out of the shop and towards Brucie's car, expecting you to follow behind her.

"Thanks anyways Benny" You shrugged, offering him your signature smile before turning on your heel and making your way out the opened door.

"Oh" You stopped abruptly, turning and tossing the can you'd been cooling off with to Benny, "Thanks for the pop"

He caught it effortlessly and watched as you walked into the hot sun, your heels clicking for a couple seconds before the sound was replaced with the car door being shut. There was beat of silence. Until Brucie leaned back on the stool, crossing his arms over his chest, "She's definitely going on a date"

"Why'd you think that?" Cal asked taking another sip of his Coke and watching the car back out of the lot and head down the road. He was too involved with the bike to pay much attention at all.

"On a hot day like this a woman isn't gonna wear her hair down for just anybody" Brucie stated as if he were an expert on the matter, "Trust me, I know some things about women and their hair"

Cal nodded like he understood but he didn't really. He hadn't bothered with women for a couple months as he would much rather tinker with engines than a woman's brain.

Benny tossed the can of pop in his hands for a minute before cracking it open. It was nearly warm now after being pressed to your neck but he didn't care, he was too busy wondering who you were going on a date with.

_______ Gail turned the music down and took a look at you once the car was making its way down the street. "So who's the lucky guy?"

"Is it that obvious?" You groan, putting your face in your hands and laughing.

She only nodded, cracking a grin and letting her hand float with the wind outside the driver side window.

"I thought I was pretty convincing with the guys" You said, flipping the visor mirror down to touch up your makeup, taking your lip stick from your purse and applying it smoothly.

"Well the guys are dumbasses" Gail laughs, then glances over at you when the car stops at a stop light, "Do I know him?"

You shook your head proudly. You were confident that no one from the club would know him. He was a nice college boy. He came from a good family and he'd never been around a motorcycle in his life.

"Well what's his name?" She pressed.

Gail was a pretty girl, smart too. She was a couple years older than you. You sometimes wondered how she ended up with Brucie. He was a great guy and you knew him nearly all your life, but he was closer in age to Johnny. But when you saw them together it always answered your question, they were like soul mates. You always wanted something like that. Something that felt natural and easy.

"His name is Ray" You smiled, picking at your nails nervously, "I meant him at the library-"

"Of course you did" Gail interrupted, taking a left turn. "I would've never thought having your nose in a book would get you a date"

"He's very nice and he comes from a good family"

"He rich?" She said flatly, by then shot you an amused smirk. 

You knew she'd been picking on you. But you didn't want to admit that he did come from a wealthy family and that he spent his spare time golfing and going to the country club on the other side of town.

"Just up here on the right" You pointed, pulling your purse back on your shoulder and adjusting your dress as best you could in the car.

When Gail brought the car to a stop in front of the diner, she smiled at you, turning in her seat and reaching over to fix a couple strands of your hair.

You scanned the front of the restaurant. Despite the hot day there was a lot of people out and about for the dinner rush.

"He's right there" You turned to Gail suddenly and moved your wide eyes to the right, not wanting to point him out directly. "Green shirt, black hair"

"Oh he's a looker" She said, looking him over. He was leaning near the door of the restaurant, reading a small paper back book with a pencil in hand, making little marks.

"Good thing Benny didn't drop you off" Gail said laughing to herself.

"I'm not stupid," You smirked, opening the door and stepping out, "I was gonna have him drop me off down the street"

She laughed, shouting a goodbye out the window as she drove off.

[stardustandash]

in the ashes

Whumptober Day 6: Not Realizing They’re Injured – “It’s not my blood”

The hum of the Mantis’ engines overhead is the sweetest sound Cal’s ever heard. It sounds like home and comfort and family, and he’s glad the others are safe, even if he has to be the one to face them with the news that their small family will never be the same again. Years apart is different than dead.

Ao3 Link

Smoke lies thick on Cal’s tongue. It’s all he can smell, all he can taste, in the wake of the attack on the Anchorite’s base. The fires have grown cold, but the ash still floats in the air, coating everything in a dull grey. Cere and Cordova lie before him, both wrapped in what blankets Cal could salvage from storage to preserve some dignity for the two of them. Kriff, Cordova had barely had a face left in the wake of Bode’s attack.

The hum of the Mantis’ engines overhead is the sweetest sound Cal’s ever heard. It sounds like home and comfort and family, and he’s glad the others are safe, even if he has to be the one to face them with the news that their small family will never be the same again. Years apart is different than dead. Grief rises in Cal’s throat, but by the time the Mantis touches down he’s managed to swallow it back into the part of himself he tries to ignore.

He clings to BD-1 when the little droid rushes down the ramp and into his arms. What else can he do. Greez follows, falling to his knees beside Cere’s body. Merrin stands by Cere’s feet with eyes a thousand miles and many years in the past.

“I’m so-“

“Don’t even start, kid,” Greez cuts him off. “Don’t even begin to try and apologize for this.”

Cal swallows hard. Fear makes his throat tight. What if Greez never lets him set foot on the Mantis again, or eat at his table, or even see him. What if Merrin hates him for letting their friends and mentors die.

“None of this is your fault, okay? I can go in depth about it later, but for now, know that none of this is on you,” says Greez. His voice is rough and wet.

Some of the fear trickles away, but it only leaves room for grief to come rolling back in.  Merrin is still standing still as a statue, and Cal latches on to the chance to do something, to not give in to the emotion.

“You okay?” he asks, one hand hovering next to hers.

It’s a stupid question, but at least it gets her eyes off of the bodies and Cal can see her mind returning from wherever it went.

“She sent us away,” says Merrin in a small voice. “She knew what was coming and she made us go. I should have stayed with her.”

Greez lays one hand on Cere’s shoulder through the blanket before standing up and turning to the two of them. His cheeks are wet, and his eyes are red around the edges, but his face is full of determination.

“I don’t want to hear either of you talking like this, am I clear. Cere wouldn’t have wanted you to die with her. What we do now is we give them the respect they deserve.”

“And get the compass back from Bode. He can’t take Tanalorr away from us now, not that the Path has lost Jedha,” says Cal.

“Yeah, okay, and that too,” says Greez. “But first, let’s get them onto the ship.”

Merrin sets her mouth in a grim line and nods, Cal alongside her. The two of them carry Cere and Cordova onto the ship with as much care as they can manage. Now that Greez has somewhat taken over, Cal feels his energy draining away with it. Every step into the ship feels heavy, and not just from the burden in his arms. Even BD-1 feels heavier than usual. In fact, BD must have grabbed him wrong, because his shoulder’s starting to twinge where he usually plants his foot.

Still, he will not falter with Cordova in his arms. The man deserved a death with dignity, and though Cal cannot clearly remember Jedi funerary customs, he will do his best to see that both Cordova and Cere get his best approximation of being laid to rest with honour. Cal settles Cordova next to where Merrin has laid Cere and vows that he will not rest until they have time to lay the both of them to rest.

In the aftermath the four of them cluster in the lounge, three of them with a glass of the nicest brandy Greez has on board and no one telling BD-1 to get off the potolli-weave. Not like he hasn’t been climbing all over it for the last few years anyway.

“You feeling okay, Cal?” asks Greez.

Cal blinks at him. Of course he isn’t feeling okay. The real question is how well can Cal function right now. To which the answer is of course; “I’m fine.”

“You’re looking a little pale. You sure Bode didn’t get a good hit in?”

Cal frowns. Sure, Bode had shot him and he’d fallen off the cliff, but he’d gotten back to the base fine.

“You are covered in ash,” supplies Merrin. “Perhaps a shower could help.”

Cal almost makes a joke about being as pale as her, but the thought is knocked out of his head when Merrin puts a hand on his shoulder and it sends a line of fire down his arm. He can’t help the flinch that runs through him and Merrin pulls away. There’s an odd reddish-grey smudge on her hand.

“You are bleeding,” says Merrin.

“See, I knew you weren’t fine!”

“It’s not my blood,” Cal protests. “It’s from carrying Cordova.”

Yet as the words leave his lips Cal can feel his shoulder start to ache and notices just how much he’s slumped against the couch.

“I’m fine,” he says again quickly.

Merrin and Greez send him matching disbelieving looks. BD-1 unhelpfully starts scanning Cal and trills a self-satisfied confirmation that yes, Cal has been shot and the wound edges didn’t fully cauterize.

“I’m fine, it’s not going to kill me.”

Greez lets out a long sigh and sips at his brandy before standing on weary legs. “You’re right, but I’m not risking it with your luck and everything that just happened. Merrin, keep him there, I’ll go get the medkit.

Merrin is all to happy to swing her legs up into Cal’s lap. BD-1 hops on top, perching on Merrin’s knees and settling in. It’s nice, to have the weight on top of him to keep him grounded. He puts a hand on Merrin’s thigh just to feel the warmth of her beneath his fingers.

The pain in his shoulder is building now that he lets himself feel it. He refuses to cry, but he can feel the tears burning at the back of his eyes. All he can do is hold on to the family he has left, and embrace the fire in him to hunt down Bode for all he’s done to them.