#but now its sort of pinky red

[raginglesbian2006]

Hihi!

I enjoy your fics and I was wondering if I could request Alastor x reader where the reader paints Alastor's nails? Maybe reader paints their nails and wants to match with Alastor? Thanks for writing cool fics!

omg this is so good

Self-care day

"I declare today as self-care day!"

Every hotel resident looked at you with dumbfounded looks on their faces as they sat in front of you on the couch. Charlie cheered from the corner.

Angel Dust, someone you'd grown close to during your stay at the infamous hotel, rose up from his seat and said, "Ya heard her. It's self-care day. Shut your traps and get movin'!" You looked up at him with a grateful sigh.

You had joined this hotel when the extermination had been moved up. You were doing fine till then but panicked when you heard the news and immediately took shelter in the confines of the Hazbin Hotel. Much to your fortune, you were accepted immediately- by Charlie and Vaggie that is. Others...well...they took some time. But you made friends anyway!

Well... you couldn't call Alastor, your friend. He was more of an acquaintance...of sorts. A menacing smile you saw from time to time wander around the hotel. He managed to spook you a couple of times by randomly appearing behind you and greeting you with a loud and boisterous laugh. You almost fell down the stairs and cracked your skull open once, had it not been for Alastor's shadows preventing you from losing your balance.

"Now my dear, death at the bottom of the stairs of this fine establishment won't do well for its name, now, would it? What would the papers say?"

After the great war between the demons and the angelic exterminators and losing one of the best souls that had graced this hotel; everyone helped rebuild it to its former glory. Scratch that. It was more glorious than before.

So a day after, you had suggested to Charlie that everyone working at the hotel should deserve some rest. Quality time with themselves, if you will. Of course, Charlie was all in.

This is what led to you proudly presenting your idea in front of the denizens of hell residing in the hotel, including the literal king of hell. Alastor was nowhere to be seen as usual. He usually disappeared when called for hotel "activities" which he deemed "a waste of time."

Oh well.

At least your idea seemed to be going well for now.

Angel had pushed Husk and pestered him to let him comb his fur. He pinky promised not to make any sex jokes for an entire week if he let him do it. Husk eventually gave in which made Angel squeal in joy.

Charlie had put cucumber slices on Niffty's eyes since she refused to sit still and enjoy the face massage she had recommended. Needless to say, the little she-devil walked around the hotel lobby, with her eyes covered by cucumbers, bumping into the pillars again and again.

"Yay! Pain!" Niffty exclaimed, gleefully. Well, at least she was enjoying it.

Lucifer was teaching Charlie how to prune Vaggie's newfound wings. He was very particular with how it should be done and carefully guided Charlie through it. You absolutely loved to see them bonding.

You, on the other hand, were painting your nails. You'd noticed Alastor's claws before. You really liked the way they shone against the light. So thus, you'd resolved to paint your nails a bright red, like his claws were. Whilst you were amid your manicure, you heard the telltale static noise that announced Alastor's arrival wherever he went.

You watched as Alastor walked in through the doors of the hotel and stopped to see everyone, either on the ground or on the couch, indulging in some well-deserved self-care.

"Ah, I see you all are still not done with your... shenanigans, hm?"

Charlie gleefully said, "Al! Come join us! It's self-care day!"

Alastor let out a staticky sigh, "No my dear, as much as I would love to participate, I have better things to do." Charlie frowned but she expected this behavior from him.

Alastor was about to leave when suddenly Lucifer chimed in nonchalantly, "Maybe he's scared."

A sickening crack was heard. Alastor swiftly turned his head towards the king of hell, who was busy brushing his future daughter-in-law's wings.

"WHAT. DID. YOU. SAY?" Alastor's radio static rose significantly.

"I said," Lucifer emphasized, "Maybe you are just scared of a little massage... afraid of nail clippers. Oooh! nail polish, the sheer absolute horror!"

You chuckled at his theatrics and so did the rest of the hotel. Oh, but Alastor was not amused in the slightest. If looks could kill, Lucifer's head would be on a stick by now with the rest of his body torn to shreds.

"I can assure you, Your Majesty," Alastor's voice crackled, "I am not scared of the frivolous habits you indulge in."

"Oh?" Lucifer's smirk widened, "Prove it."

No one spoke except for Angel Dust, who whilst combing Husk's fur yelled out, "DRAMA."

You felt the air around you tense up. Alastor's grin widened even more, but you could feel it was his annoyance peaking at the king's suggestion.

Without a word, the tall deer demon started walking towards your direction.

Wait....that can't be right. Why is he walking towards you!?

Your eyes widened as he sat down right in front of you, on the ground, might I add, and spoke verbatim, "Now, would you be a dear and help paint my claws? Apparently I need to prove to that ditzy demon everyone calls "the king of hell" that I am not afraid of such puny little luxuries"

Your mouth moved once, without saying anything and then it moved again. You were basically looking at him like he'd grown seven heads.

Alastor's grin remained, "Chop chop now, my dear. My time is quite precious."

You nodded, unsure of what to do next.

"W-what color would you like for your claws to be painted, Alastor? " you spoke, trying to control your trembling, as you showed him your collection.

The demon hummed and chose a black nail polish. You took it from his hands and started painting his claws. If someone told you that one day you would be giving the radio demon a manicure, you'd have laughed at their face.

And look at you now, on the ground with the radio demon, painting his claws.

You expected him to be fussy with all this but he was surprisingly quite relaxed. He let you paint his claws with utmost sincerity and did not utter a word, the only sound coming from him being the eerie static.

This was quite unnatural of him. Not talking at all, that is. He is quite chatty almost all the time. You had to admit, it was nice to see this side of him.

You were so engrossed in your work that you did not notice that Alastor had asked you something.

"Sorry...can you repeat that again, please?"

Alastor reiterated, " Oh I just took notice of the color you chose to paint your nails."

You chuckled, "Ah well, I was inspired by the way your claws look naturally! They shine oh so wonderfully in the light. Red really suits you, you know."

He said nothing, except a hum and you resumed your work.

After the end of the little self-care day you'd arranged, you could see everyone look quite happy and relaxed. You smiled. You felt that you had accomplished something great and contributed to the smooth running of this establishment.

While you were feeling satisfied with yourself, you heard a pop behind you and there stood Alastor, with his newly painted claws.

"Hi! Do you like how it looks?" you asked.

"It is wonderful, my dear. I quite like the color. Thank you for indulging me," he replied, putting his hand on your shoulder.

Your face turned red under his gaze as you quickly looked away, "You know me, always up for helping my friends! Well, you must be busy. Let me not hold you up for long, byeeeee." Saying this, you rushed out of the lobby, away from his sight.

Alastor's mind lingered on one little thing you said.

"Friend...," he wondered loudly. He quite liked the sound of that.

A/N: Sorry for taking so long to reply to this. I hope you enjoy it!

[zweiginator]

really obsessed with the idea of telling pat exactly how to touch art, art begging and moaning shamelessly but Patrick won't move an inch without your permission 😩

all because art is so so desperate and it's fun to tease him...being art's girlfriend but maybe just maybe he moaned patrick's name in his sleep one night. woke up wet and sticky with cum on his stomach.

maybe you tell patrick about it, which has him confessing a one-time, sort-of-hook-up that happened when they were eighteen.

two tipsy boys with a shared motel room, two erections and four wandering hands. a half-handjob and open-mouthed kisses. they promised not to tell a fucking soul and they shook on it.

they kept that promise until now. and patrick's cock twitches, his face lifts in a smirk, as you tell him what happened. art was tossing and turning--was he having a nightmare? and then his hips jerked up and patrick's name creeped out of his lips like a secret clawing its way out.

you talk to art about it too. when you tell him what happened, he hides his face in his hands. he of course knew about the wet dream, knew that the dream had involved his best friend. but the desperate moan? for fucks sake he's committed to you.

he apologizes profusely. tells you it meant nothing. he won't even look at you, but you see the tips of his ears, burnt a deep red.

"art, it's okay--i don't want you to feel repressed. do you want to--experiment with him?"

he pauses and his pulse quickens; you can see it thrumming in his neck, in how he ticks his jaw.

"i--what?" he swallows. "i don't think patrick would-" it's not a no.

you tell him you have a feeling patrick would be in on it. of course, you already told him. you had seen their friendship, how close they are. how their eyes flitted over each other when they thought no one was watching.

so now art is naked on the bed, and patrick is only in his underwear. watching them kiss feels like a breath of fresh air after being underwater. and they kiss each other like the other is their source of oxygen--gasping into mouths, wet tongues licking across swollen bottom lips. they tell each other sweet nothings that you can't even hear and then patrick is touching art's cock. swollen and so hard even patrick's pinky brushing across the tip has art rutting his hips up for more.

but patrick doesn't know what he likes like you do.

"how do i touch him?" patrick asks, latching his lips to art's jugular vein. his hand is wrapped tightly around the base of art's erection.

"tease him. he likes that." a lie, but not fully. art hates the feeling of being teased but he loves the whining, the begging, the anticipation of maybe getting what he wants.

you push art's hair back, pressing a kiss to his forehead and his hand fists into your shirt, keeping you there. you don't touch him--this is for patrick and your boyfriend.

patrick has art spit into his hand. gives his cock slow, intentional strokes. from the very bottom of him to the very, very top. swipes his thumb across his tip to collect the precum that leaks out like a broken faucet.

you tell art to tell you how it feels.

"pat--your hands are so strong. feels so fucking good."

their lips brush against each other and patrick smiles against art. his best friend is so hard for him.

[patrophthia]

theodore nott headcanons

these are just my personal characterisations of theodore nott and just me rambling about him bc i love him. please let me know some of your own head canons of him and let’s talk about it!!

this has no word counts, not beta read, just fueled by my love for theodore (be kind about it please)

let’s start of with some canon complaints ones!

from what we know theodore (physically) has dark hair, dark eyes, pale skin and was described as lanky/tall. based off of these, i think he definitely has a few girls outwardly crushing on him. like how can you not when he’s quiet and tall? honestly i get.

theodore, with his pale skin, would honestly get flustered very easily and you can tell by his ears!! HIS EARS THAT TURNS RED WHEN HE FEELS JUST SLIGHT EMBARRASSED AND ITS THE CUTEST THING EVER (im taking no arguments here) i said what i said. theo would def keep his hair longer to help mask this little quirk of his and it would work for the most part, if not for the red tips shining through his dark locks from time to time

with how tall he is, i think he’d be pretty clumsy and uncoordinated but it’s just that he has amazing luck that no one ever gets to see him fall flat on his face.

he’s smart, we know this, but i think he’d definitely be book smart rather than street smart (that’s why blaise is in the picture), he’d be pretty closed off and intimidating to anyone who wasn’t part of his friend group, def the type to glare at you if you looked at him wrong

never held hand romantically before, this man gives off straight up ‘no bitches 🤨’ vibes

always needs comforts/hugs or any kind of support but would isolate himself from anyone who tries to provide him any of that because he’s scared of being seen as vulnerable by them

so so hard to read when you first meet him, but the more you spend just literally sitting by his sides you start to able to differentiate between his hums and nods (that’s all you’ll get from him so long as he’s sober and not your boyfriend)

i personally think seventeen’s jeon wonwoo is so so fitting for theodore (or atleast the theodore i write) he has the very cold closed off ice prince thing going on but is such a cutie i love him

now for some romantic traits one

isn’t the biggest fan of PDA —that is if it’s not him initiating it, i feel theo is the type to hold your hand under your desk, or linked pinkies as you walked down the streets, he’s very subtle with his touches but he likes having you in his hands? (if that makes sense)

forehead kisses enthusiast!!!! he would leave a small little peck on your forehead whenever you’d separate for your own classes, he does it very quick —so quick that no one ever catches it and it’s just between you and him and it’s so sickeningly sweet

would have a hard time with impromptu dates, theodore is the type to go all out when it comes to date so when the slightest thing goes wrong he thinks the whole date is wrong and you’re going to break up with him (please reassure him that you aren’t)

has a pet of some sort, he’s such a loser there’s no way he doesn’t have one; convinced you to adopt a v chubby grey cat on your first anniversary, ernie is a very happy member of the family!

isn’t the biggest pet name user? i know i write theodore using princess a lot but it’s mostly to avoid using y/n. but truthfully i think theodore would mostly call you by your name, and on the rare occasions he uses a pet name it would be between baby or my love

lovveeees being called pet name though, call him sweetheart and watch him be at your beck and call

when he loves he loves hard, you can’t tell me theodore wouldn’t be obsessed with you when you’re together. when it’s in private it’s so obvious that he wants to just bask in your attention even though he never does anything (he thinks) is worthy of it, the type to pull away from a kiss with a dopey look and try but fail to hide a smile from you

you know that trope of A calling B clingy and B distance themself bc they’re upset? ITS SO THEODORE, he’s very averse to touch and maybe one day you’re just feeling a bit too upset and need comfort from him “why are you always so clingy?” slips out and everything just comes to pause.

he knows it before he even looks at you that you’re upset, the type that thinks ‘my gf is mad at me i wish i was dead’

doesn’t really know how to apologize to you but you seem pretty cool about it, you’re still going to bed with him and not banishing him to the couch, you won’t let him touch you though “something about it being too hot”

it’s the next day when you won’t even look in his direction let alone kiss him that makes him want to hire a hitman on himself, will buy you so many things as an apology it doesn’t really work

almost asked blaise for help but scratched that idea and asked for pansy’s help instead (still doesn’t really work)

at the end hired a chef and prep dinner in your shared apartment where he got onto his knees and apologize (yes he looked ridiculous, yes it was blaise’s idea, yes blaise told you the plans before hand and asked you for a photo of theodore begging for forgiveness, yes you did get one for him)

he’s possessive and wants you to himself but also knows his place, he knows when to step in and set healthy boundaries but always breaking them just to make you happy, tries to go above and beyond for you always

tried to talk more and communicate with you how he’s feeling because he does not want this relationship to end just because he doesn’t know how to talk about his feelings

such an act of service type of guy too? would run you a bath if you seemed down, learned to cook your favorite food for you despite having the money to always eat out at the best restaurant/hire a private chef to do it for you, knows your work/school schedule very well and made sure that his visits (if there were any) was well timed

big on quality time as well!!! he just likes to have your company no matter what it is you’re doing, he just likes being by your side

loves spoiling you!!! honestly it’s sick how he does it. i think theodore would be the type to buy you whatever you wanted without ever asking you if you wanted it, if the relationship gets more serious (we’re talking living together/sharing socks serious here) would hand you his v sleek black card if you were to tell him you were going out with your friends.

i could see you at one point having an argument with him about it like: “i’m your s/o theo, not your sugar baby.”

“why can’t you just be both?” this mf

—from bee: that’s all for my theodore related rambles, pls don’t be shy and send me ask about theodore so we can talk about him tgt!!!

[tomriddlehyperfixataion]

Tom Riddle x reader - blurb/how you(blank) because i need to write SOMETHING

How you meet - During 5th year, its a simple paired potions assignment and you end up getting paired with Tom. he's polite and charming of course, one must be to gain allies, even if they are...less, in his view.

How you gain his attention- Oddly, you don't pay attention to him like most of the girls do(frtho we all be drooling over him and blushing), you just get your work done and be polite. it gains his attention because 'whomst? doesn't react to my charms and face? i must find out the cause'. mans likes a puzzle to solve.

How it starts- he starts hanging around to try and solve the puzzle of you, he wants to know everything, every weakness and every tiny piece about the person who caught his attention. he surmises that he'll lose interest at some point once he learns enough/gains your attention like the other girls always give him. but the longer he hangs around, the more...comfortable he gets. he finds himself gravitating towards you, not really realizing whats happening until its already too late.

How he realizes- during another potions class, Slughorn was reviewing Amortentia and Tom smelled a particular scent that had him reeling back-his eyes going wide and ears turning pink. it was your perfume/shampoo/cologne/body wash/whatever. a smell he had gotten way too acquainted with over the last few months. (yes it takes him literal months to get to this point he is not a love at first sight kinda guy, he has to have some sort of connection) and he has a bit of a breakdown-because haha-WHAT!?

What happens after the realization- He distances himself right away, practically cuts contact. doesn't look at you, doesn't speak to you unless he HAS to. just goes cold turkey. right away he misses you and is just like *AHHHHHHHHHHHHH* but internally...this only lasts about two weeks before he decides 'fuck i miss them' and just stares at you for a good while before he gains to courage to go up to you and start talking again. he keeps his cool, of course he does, but inside he is screaming.

How he confesses- its right before summer break of 5th year, yes he takes forever to confess and he does it right before everyone leaves for the summer, just in case he gets rejected and doesn't have to look you in the eye until the next school term. For once he's fumbling over his words and he cant keep eye contact, his face slowly turning red as you stare at him with a small smile. depending on how you react, he'll either leave with a hidden smile or the STUPIDEST grin he's ever worn, or will wear. the grin will be if you kiss him on the cheek.

When you both come back for 6th year- Oh-he is NERVOUS-he didn't even know he COULD BE nervous. his hands are shaking slightly and he cannot focus on anything he is just so nervous about seeing you again. he hides it well, blank face and everything, but he moment he sees you at the train station, and you smile at him, he cannot help but smile back because holy shit they like me back and i wasn't delusional

lowkey i hc Tom is insecure in relationships(genuine ones)

How he is in a relationship- it takes him a long time to get properly comfortable. pulls back from any pda and wont even let you hold his hand. you can hold his sleeve or something but hand? nope. he's just so unused to being touched in a loving way that he's-almost grossed out by it? but once he finally starts to settle? ooooh he is the cuddliest thing on planet earth. feral cat that felt the loving touch of their human and now will never let them go. pda is at a minimum but now you're always holding hands in some way, pinkies interlocked and everything. study dates are the main dates, but he wont mind a date at the three broomsticks once in a while, as long as you find a quiet corner to hang out in semi-privately. will help you with homework but has to be offered something(wink wink just kidding its candy.) Major! sweet tooth, you could make him commit murder with the offer of sweets(lets be fr he wouldn't need candy to commit murder) jealous! jealous jealous jealous! and possessive, no one is allowed to talk to you, not with out several interviews from Tom and being cleared after taking a written exam on why they wouldn't try anything on his boy/girl.

loves to see you in his hoodies/sweaters, thinks its the best way other than hickeys to mark his territory. will happily give up all his hoodies to make sure everyone knows that you're his.

side note; i see so many tik toks(Slytherin boys react n stuff) that make him super threatening and menacing and willing to kill during the Hogwarts years. like he's smart. really fucking smart. he wouldn't risk anything just for someone he cares a lot about, torture? yes. kill? no. he's not stupid. he's not going to get caught over a stupid boy who gets handsy. will he later kill that idiot after graduation? yes, but during school? when Dumbledore is around to keep an eye on him? no. he's not stupid. he's not a murder machine, he's homicidal not stupid.

Anyway back to the point

Other relationship stuff-

Would take a long time to get to the point were he wants to go past kissing, hell it takes him forever to kiss you for the first time-like legit three months into the relationship. he would do knuckle/hand kisses and cheek kisses here and there-but it takes months for you guys to kiss properly for the first time. but anyway's he had never been attracted to anyone before you and takes a long time to get sexually active with you, mans is a virgin-everyone makes him a playboy and i look at his ass and go 'that man has never touched a girl a day in his life'.

So he learns with you, once he starts? oh yes he goes full horn dog. he is insatiable! cant keep his hands off you in private/semi-private. is pretty vanilla at first but he finds a spicy book and is very intrigued. learns he has a breeding kink very quickly and is very into choke play and control.

First and last love, if you ever leave him(haha you wont), he will probably never get attached to anyone romantically ever again.

Very protective and will keep you out of his 'darker' business, like the chamber and his followers and plans, wants to keep you innocent, to have something that isn't total darkness and evil. now if you're into that kinda thing he wont stop you, but he will keep you away from it all just in case.

Cold hands-will warm them up between your thighs-thick or not.

Has naturally curly hair, and only lets you see it-everyone else gets the polished hair gel look. it took him months to let you see it-but once you proclaim your love for his natural hair-he makes it a point to let you see/play with it before he puts his gel in/after he washes his hair at night.

can and will fall asleep on you, esp. if you're playing with his hair or scratching his scalp/neck, arms fully wrapped around you and konked out, very cute panther lookin ass.

steals ur pillows and switches it with his(he has good pillows and washes his bed sheets/pillow cases routinely)

mayhaps have stolen one of your blankets...you're not getting it back.

will help you do any homework you have trouble with, might even let you copy his homework for a price(wink wink fr this time)

by the end of 7th year, and you're still together, fully plans to buy a ring and marry you. no doubts about it.

[gumbootillustrations]

day 18 - headcanon

i had too many so no drawing today. instead, i offer a list.

bogan laurance. or, more specifically, bogan meteli. like cmonnn u Cannot tell me that meteli (esp old meteli) is just a standin for small-town new zealand/australia. anyway, they all have aussie/nz accents. laurs is the most obvious bc i think its funny. @shadowqnights @abxolotl this one goes out for you guys <3

on that note, ru'aun's environment is basically new zealand's. especially the sacred forest - it has major nz bush vibes. like.

cmon u Cannot tell me that these were taken in the sacred forest of ru'aun.

anyway. travis gets kept up at night by kiwi screaming at each other (seriously. take a listen.)

also, tu'la is inspired by the roman empire. ill probs elaborate on this in the future.

necromancer cadenza! i've spoken abt this before here if u want to see a bit more :3

irene's cathedral/dimension/whatever is less cathedral and more eldritch labyrinth. specifically, i envision it to be a lot like the theatre of domination from honkai impact 3rd.

garroth gardens in his free time! it's how he grows all the flowers for his flower crowns.

meif'wa are werecats; they can 'tuck in' their ears and tails like werewolves can (but it's generally super uncomfortable, no matter the species), and have a sort of hybrid cat-human form that they can also shift into.

melissa is the first ultima - i sort of got into it in this post, but essentially after mel comes back to find falconclaw destroyed and her siblings, aaron and lilly, dead (to the best of her knowledge - aaron is still alive, however), she strikes a deal with a goat-eyed being to bring them back, but because the fine print was specifically worded to fuck her over, her soul ends up getting fused with the wolf that she sacrifices for the ritual and she gets ultima'd.

also, lilly is now aaron and mel's younger sister. she's a ghost.

juror relics! i hate hate Hate how the jurors never get fleshed out in canon, so i gave them a bit more backstory in ashes, ashes. their powers originally came from smaller, less powerful relics that xavier carved off of his own, but after they get lost, they become figureheads for a long time until about 20-25 years prior to the start of ashes, ashes. there's a bit more on this in my day 20 post, pinky promise.

the generals of the shadow lord's army are called "death knells", and although they lead their own units/squadrons/whatever, their primary purpose is to oppose the divine warriors; including the shadow lord (who opposes irene), there are only ever seven death knells at one time. an example of a death knell is gene, who is intended to oppose kul'zak.

zianna is a witch, although, for most of her life, her abilities were passed off as her having prophetic magicks; these 'magicks' are why she was married off to garte, as the ro'meave line wanted to introduce these magicks into the family. unfortunately, the heir, garroth, didn't inherit his mother's abilities, but her two other children, zane/zuwellyn and vylad, did.

nicole is a half elf from her mum's side; her mum is matilda's sister, making her and levin first cousins. this is based on matilda lowkey looking really similar to nicole. idk i just think its fun.

garte sells out o'khasis to tu'la for more power during s2, thus transferring the jury of nine into the control of the king. it's a whole mess, and in the process, he essentially scapegoats zianna by faking his death.

however, this does make zianna lord of o'khasis. we love a girlboss.

the relics have different effects on their wielders; for example, esmund's relic makes its wielders a lot more physically dense, meaning that they'll sink into softer surfaces like sand and mud. xavier's relic turns its wielders hair red.

consequently, zane has red roots. he dyes his hair black (its natural colour) to hide them.

katelyn has the moniker of "the dragon of o'khasis". the phoenix drop gang mostly assumes that it's because she's ruthless on the battlefield... until she decides that the best course of action is to breathe fire at an opponent uncle iroh-style.

katelyn is also Stupidly superstitious. like. she fully believes in the sweater curse and will Refuse to walk under a ladder even if theres no other available path.

mys!nicole gets forever potioned. this has Consequences for the home gang during the events of s5-s6.

speaking of mys!nicole, her and dante are queerplatonic coparents to dmitri. they had him when they were in uni after a brief fling. he's the street's baby.

anyway i think thats abt it. lmk if u have any questions :3

(ps two days until day 20)

[bodrewritten]

Daughter of Discord Rewritten Chapter 2: Special Delivery

2:00pm

"We're almost there!" Pinkie Pie chimed as she led Fluttershy and Discord towards Sugar Cube Corner. The gravel path crunched satisfyingly under their hooves, and Celestia's sun was sharing its warm spring embrace onto their backs. Fluttershy's face glowed bright and her eyelashes bat away in the glare of the beautiful sunlight.

"You sure you don't want me to carry you?"

She shook her head as she steadied herself. "No, I can handle it. Pinkie, what's this all about, anyway?"

"You'll see!" Pinkie snorted as she bounced up the bakery steps.

Fluttershy was about to follow her when Discord scooped her into his arms.

"Oh dearie, you're such a gentleman!" She giggled.

As soon as they were inside, every pony jumped out of hiding and shouted:

"SURPRISE!"

Fluttershy gasped at the decorated room before her. Her five best friends as well as Spike and her three favorite fillies were there. On the wall was a banner reading: 'Congratulations!'

"What is…?"

"We threw you a baby shower!" Pinkie Pie squealed.

"But it isn't even born yet, it can't even take baths..." Discord said, confused.

The mares laughed.

"A baby shower is a party for expecting mothers," Twilight explained. "Her female friends organize it and bring gifts for the new baby."

Tears filled Fluttershy's eyes. "Girls, this is wonderful! Thank you so much!"

"Don't thank us yet!" Pinkie insisted. "You haven't opened your presents yet!"

She led her friend to the stack of presents and handed her one wrapped in pink, with a green bow.

Discord turned to the young spike, who was now taller and sharper than before. He even had wings now!

"if this is a mare's party, then why are we here? You're a little man," discord accentuated with a noogie, "and I'm... Some sort of he-what-who-thing." Spike shrugged and sat on Discord's shoulders.

"Open mine first!"

Fluttershy was about to sit down when Discord summoned a comfortable pillow beneath her. Pinkie placed the gift in her lap and Fluttershy began unwrapping it. She opened the box to reveal a yellow and orange hat with a green propeller. She took it out and looked at it questioningly.

"I saw it in the hat shop the other day and thought it would look cutesy wootsy on your baby!" Pinkie said excitedly.

Discord twirled the propeller. "It is kind of cute."

"Thank you, Pinkie," Fluttershy smiled. "I'm sure our child will love it."

"Now for the one from me!" Rarity said, handing her a box in purple wrapping and a periwinkle bow.

Inside were six sets of foal-sized foot pajamas in red, orange, yellow, green, blue and purple.

"Of course, when the baby arrives, I can make a whole new set with proper measurements on the case that it isn't... Pony shaped."

"They're beautiful, Rarity," Fluttershy said.

She opened Twilight's present next: an illustrated book on fairytales to read to the child. Then Rainbow Dash gave her a red, green, and white rattle, which she explained had been hers as a foal.

Next was Applejack's present: a baby bonnet with apples embroidered along the edge.

"It was mine," Applejack explained, "I figured you should have it."

"Me next!" Apple Bloom bounced!

The filly gave her a small quilt. It was checkered in brown and yellow. Each yellow square was decorated with a pink butterfly matching Fluttershy's cutie mark and each brown square had a black and white spiral in the center.

"I made it myself!" Apple Bloom said proudly. "I incorporated both the parents' personalities into it, so that your baby may always be reminded how special she is!"

"Apple Bloom," Fluttershy uttered, "this is beautiful!"

She slid out of her seat and gave the filly a hug. The dragon then hopped off of Discord with his gift.

"I had to ask Twilight's permission for this first," he said.

In the box was an old stuffed green dragon, covered in felt armor.

"This is Sir Lionheart," Spike explained. "Twilight gave him to me after she took me home, but I've kind of grown out of it. I'm sure Discord Jr. will like it!"

"I have a toy for the baby too!" Scootaloo announced. She brought out a tiny red scooter with a yellow bow on it. "This was my first scooter, but I've gotten too big for it now."

"And I have a record of my favorite lullabies!" Sweetie Belle said, holding up said record.

"Oh, thank you, everyone!" Fluttershy exclaimed. "These are all such wonderful presents!"

"We're not done," Twilight declared. "We all pitched in on this one."

Pinkie Pie bounced upstairs, followed by the cowgirl. The returned with a wooden crib painted glittery green and decorated with pink roses on the side. The cushion was feathered and the laced pillow was made of silk. Fluttershy was sobbing with a smile.

"You are all such wonderful friends and I know our baby is going to have the best aunts, and cousin, in the world!"

They all moved into a group hug when suddenly, Fluttershy felt a sharp pain in her belly. She let out a cry and clutched her stomach. Her friends backed away as Discord flew to her side.

"Honey, what's wrong?!" he pleaded.

"The baby," she wheezed. "I think it's coming!"

"Now?! But it's too early!"

"Tell that to the baby!"

The broken water spread from the floor.

"But it's only been nine months!" Rarity exclaimed.

"that's the issue," Twilight said frantically. "We need to get her to the hospital."

Discord did not waste a second to teleport her out of there, leaving the eight ponies and dragon alone in silence.

...

"Guess we're walking."

The hospital staff was caught by surprise when Discord came barging into the emergency room, pushing Fluttershy on a stretcher.

"The baby's coming, the baby's coming!" he screamed frantically.

"What?" Dr. Stable uttered. "The baby's not due for another two months!"

"Well, it's impatient! It is my kid, after all!"

The doctor was quick and fast, leading the couple to the maternity ward. On the way, they passed by Derpy.

"Fluttershy!" she exclaimed. "I thought you weren't due for another two months!"

Fluttershy's breathing staggered. "So did I, but the baby had other plans!"

"Sweet! Our kids are going to have the same birthday!"

Derpy's stretcher steered away while Fluttershy's entered another room.

"I'll need to get an x-ray…" Dr. Stable said.

Discord summoned up the device and hung it over his wife's stomach. The doctor examined it with wide eyes.

"Yep, the foal's a preemie, but it's safe enough that we can deliver without harm to it. It will have to stay in the NICU until it's ready."

"Then what are we waiting for?" the draconequus demanded. "You're the doctor! Please help my wife!"

Dr. Stable called for Nurses Sweetheart and Coldheart. They put on their scrubs and masks and got the patient into position. Discord had summoned up a mask as well and tightly held his wife's hoof.

The five ponies, three fillies and dragon paced around the waiting room. They stiffened when they heard Fluttershy's scream.

"What are they doing to her?!" Pinkie Pie squealed.

"I'm sure she's fine," Twilight said calmly.

When Dr. Stable entered the room, the duchess jumped out of her seat.

"Is she still alive?!" she asked frantically.

The doctor laughed. "Fluttershy has successfully given birth to a healthy baby girl and is going to be fine."

Every pony gasped.

"A girl?" Pinkie repeated. "This is fantastic!"

"Wait," Rarity said. "What does it look like?"

Fluttershy sobbed into her husband's chest.

"She's okay my queen, just small. She's okay."

"I only got to hold her for a second..."

Discord needed to distract her, keep her mind off of her filly in the NICU.

Discord scratched his head. "She looks so…normal."

The infant was an earth pony with a pink coat and bounding curls of purple and white hair on her head.

"Isn't that what you wanted?" Fluttershy sniffled. "You said you didn't want our child to be judged by her looks like you were."

"Yeah, but…how will people know she's ours?"

The pegasus lay in thought. "I don't think it matters dear, she's ours, and..."

Discord held her hoof. "If we're loud enough with our pride, ponies will know."

Fluttershy chuckled. "Y'know, I've got an earth pony grandma on my Dad's side. I guess the genes just skipped mine and my dad's generations."

Weeks later, NICU visiting hours.

"It's mine alright!" He bent down and tickled the infant. Her eyes were bright spirals with no pupils. "Cootchie-cootchie-coo!" The baby let out a laugh as she attempted to squirm away from the delightful torture. "Aw, look at her! Isn't she just an adorable little screwball?" His face lit up. "That's it! We'll call her Screwball!... If you want to, that is."

Fluttershy smiled as she caressed her baby through the glass. "Of course, it's perfect."

"Nah, but that's why it's good."

"Which one is it?!" Pinkie demanded, eagerly pressing her face against the window of the nursery.

"The one in the middle," Nurse Sweetheart said, pointing.

The ponies turned their attention to the pink foal sucking on her hoof.

"she's…" Rainbow speculated, "…normal."

Screwball then opened her swirly eyes.

"Never mind."

Every pony jumped as Discord appeared behind them. "I know, isn't she precious? We named her Screwball!"

"How lovely," Rarity cooed.

"Aw, she's so cute!" Pinkie squeaked.

"We had another that day. Nurse Sweetheart explained, "from a Miz Muffins. Maybe you know her?"

"You mean Derpy?" Rainbow asked. She mumbled, "no one calls her muffins, dude."

The nurse pointed to the cradle beside Screwball's. Lying inside was a gray unicorn with blonde hair. Her eyes were looking in opposite directions.

"That's Derpy's alright," the pegasus confirmed. "What's its name?"

"She called her Dinky," the nurse replied. "Dinky Doo."

Screwball stared in wonder at the large ponies looking at her. She thought they were quite funny, especially the pink one. She then imagined what it would be like to tug on that beautiful poofy hair.

She turned her head as the baby in the crib next to her started crying. She could tell this pony was different from the others because of her eyes, and seemed drawn to her. She wanted her to stop crying and a pacifier suddenly appeared in the unicorn's mouth. The ponies saw this and gasped.

"Celestia save her." Discord said in awe. "Oh, oh not now. Not with the magic..." He grimaced. She was like him, with the problems he would have had at her age.

"A baby with Discord's powers?" Spike uttered.

Twilight shook with anxiety. Or was it excitement at the prospect of a pony with chaotic magic? In any case, she whispered:

"oh boy."

[ask-icancraft-it]

Love's Retribution: Chapter 6

((Chapter 6 of the Western AU is here! Felix is reminded of what day it is, and he and Tamora visit his father. Tagging folks for visibility @sgtcalhouns, @bashfulgnome, @sadboytristan))

Chapter Master List

—

Tamora peered over the edge of her mattress, smirking down where Felix slept soundly atop a bedroll on the floor. This was the first time she had woken up before him in the morning, so she gave him a quick poke. 

“Mmh,” he stirred. 

“You feeling alright?” The blonde asked. 

“Fit as a fiddle,” he responded groggily, not convincing her. 

“You want a little more shut-eye?” The handyman nodded his head and she smirked. “How about I make some coffee?”

“Oh, that’d be nice,” Felix mumbled. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” she said, scooting to the end of her bed and standing up with her crutches. 

“Just regular coffee, Tam—I can’t do any more of the other stuff.”

“Heard. Now sleep,” Tamora shook her head. No wonder he had as many stories as he did; the man was a champion lightweight. 

She could navigate the handyman’s kitchen fairly easily after watching him so many times, and soon, coffee was brewing. Eventually, its smell was enough to raise Felix from the floor. 

“Sorry I’m a little out of sorts,” he smiled, taking the mug she offered him and pulling out her seat. “But this will make things right as rain. I appreciate it.” 

“Compared to all you’ve done for me, this is nothing,” Tamora said, blowing some steam from the brim of her cup. 

“Well, I enjoy it all the same—”  Footsteps caught the pair’s attention, and Tamora tensed in her seat. 

Felix held out his hand with a calming gesture, getting up from his chair and heading towards the door. A soft knock prompted him to open.

“Delivery for you, sir,” a boy’s voice came from the other side as Tamora watched from the table. “Miss Deanna sends her regards.”

“O-oh—” Felix accepted a blue vase filled with beautiful white flowers. “Tell her I said ‘thank you’…”

Tamora raised an eyebrow as the handyman shut the door. “Another ‘admirer’ of yours?’” she quipped.

He didn’t acknowledge her, instead turning to inspect the calendar hung on his wall. His finger froze on the date and his shoulders drooped. 

“Fix-It?” The blonde grew concerned as he placed the flowers on the table, looking like he’d just been hollowed out. 

“Felix,” she called to him again, breaking his stupor. “What’s wrong?”

“I—uh,” the handyman blinked, running a hand across his face. “Tammy, I need to go somewhere. You have no obligation to come with me, but…would you?”

“Where are you going?” 

“To visit my father,” Felix answered with a bittersweet smile.

Tamora sat on a bench under the shade of an oak tree overlooking the quiet churchyard. Just down the hill, Felix stood in front of a decorated grave, saying a few words she could not hear, and placing the bouquet gifted to him atop the headstone. 

After a few more solemn moments, the handyman came to join her, setting the blue vase on the grass beside them. His eyes were red, and he wiped some tears away with a sigh. 

Tamora slid her hand across the gap between them, linking her pinky to his. He smiled, returning her gesture in full.

“Thank you for coming with me,” he sniffed. “I can’t believe that I forgot it was today…”

“You’ve had your hands full,” the blonde said apologetically.

More tears threatened to fall as Felix thought about his next words; whether or not he should say them at all. He eventually broke, a soft sob escaping his lips. 

“He would have loved you,” he said, attempting to regain his composure. “I think that’s what hurts most this time around.”

Tamora nodded softly, placing a gentle squeeze on his palm. She didn’t know how else to respond. 

“When did he pass?” she asked after a few beats of silence.

“Fifteen years ago today,” he acknowledged the shock on her face with a bittersweet smile. “When I was a boy.”

“I���m sorry,” she bowed her head, feeling like a fool for ever assuming the handyman hadn’t experienced any considerable hardship; losing a parent that young leaves its mark.

“Tammy, I gotta come clean,” he wasted no time, fidgeting in his seat. “Last night, if someone had come in…I don’t know what I would have done. I told you otherwise because I wanted you to feel safe. But—I’m afraid I’d freeze up.”

“It’s alright, Fix-It,” Tamora was taken off guard by the subject change. “I appreciate the honesty, but— you didn’t convince me anyway…You’re not the type to shoot a man dead.”

The handyman’s eyes were glassy as he looked at her. “What if I told you I have?” he swallowed. Tamora blinked, realizing there was far more to this than she imagined. 

“Tell me,” she said softly, and Felix drew a deep breath to figure out where to start. 

“My father was a good man; did a lot of work around town and helpin’ folks…well-known and loved by the community,” Felix paused with a nervous chuckle. “It’s a lot to live up to, but I try.”

He took another beat, before continuing.

“I’d just turned fourteen, and I remember him complaining about some men passing through who weren’t treating the saloon girls right. He even chased one of them off when they…got violent—” Felix squeezed Tamora’s hand, making sure she was okay, given the subject. She nodded.

“Dad made sure the poor girl was alright and took her home. That girl was Deanna—” he gestured to the vase at his feet. “And we all thought that whole ordeal was over with; ‘til the next evening…”

Felix breathed and closed his eyes. As he told his story, the wood bench beneath him transported him back to that night he sat at the dinner table across from his old man. A loud knocking made them both pause, and his father stood up with a sigh.

“Stay here, Junior,” he said. “I’ll see who it is.” 

“Okay, Dad,” Felix settled back in, taking another bite of his supper.

“Can I help you, gentlemen?”

“Yeah, you can help—” a strange voice sneered, tearing Felix’s attention from his meal. He looked up as two men grabbed his father, dragging him outside. “By learning to mind your goddamn business! That bitch was mine!”

“Dad!” The boy dropped his spoon and stood, horrified as the imposing silhouettes beat down his father. Panicking, he turned around and reached for his father’s Colt on the side table where it was always placed at the end of the day. Hands trembling, he checked that the chambers were loaded.

“S-stop it!” Felix yelled, running outside and pointing the gun between the two assailants. He made his point by pulling back the hammer. “L-leave him alone!”

The two strangers backed off, their hands moving to the holsters at their sides. 

“Don’t be stupid, kid,” one of them growled. “We’re just teachin’ yer daddy a lesson.” 

“Tell your runt to get back inside, old man,” the other commanded.

“It’s alright, son,” his father said as he knelt in the dirt. It was dark, but enough light bounced off of his bloodied face. “It’s gonna be alright, just go back inside.”

Tears streaming, the boy shook his head. 

“Junior—”

Felix saw the glint of a pistol in the moonlight and pulled the trigger out of fear. He flinched at the recoil and stared in shock as one of the men crumpled to the ground with a sickening thud.

The boy broke the shocked silence with a whimper, dropping his father’s gun and placing his hands over his mouth.

“You little shit!” the other man retaliated. 

“No!” Felix was pushed to the ground as another shot rang out, his father hovering over him, face twisted with pain. 

“D-dad?” the boy gasped. His old man grabbed the Colt from the dirt and fired backward. Injured, the stranger’s silhouette ran, disappearing into the woods.

“Dad!” Felix cried as his father collapsed onto his back with a sputtering cough. “Dad! I-I’m so sorry—I-I didn’t–”

“It’s alright,” he took a ragged breath, touching his boy’s face. “You were scared— it’s okay.” “W-what do I do?” 

“Just hold my hand, son. Hold it tight…”

Felix’s eyes fluttered open when he felt Tamora’s hand flinch under his grip, and he immediately relieved the pressure. “Sorry,” he gulped. 

“It’s okay,” the blonde replied, waiting for him to continue.

“A couple of folks from town heard the gunfire and rode up. They and the town doctor did all they could. He passed the next morning.”

“I’m so sorry, Fix-It.” 

“Seeing someone you love getting beat on like that can make you lose your senses… I can’t help but wonder if I hadn’t acted so rashly—if I’d never picked up that gun… he might still be alive.”

Tamora understood that sentiment. She often also wondered if she’d done anything different the night the Cyrus gang burst into her life, if the outcome would have changed. But she couldn’t imagine being that young and holding that kind of guilt through adulthood. Suddenly, all of Felix’s anxious tendencies made more sense.

“But—” the handyman sat up in his seat, resolute. “Life goes on. I’ve had time to learn how to cope and best honor his memory. To just…keep living— to be happy, and follow his example. I know that’s what he would want for me.”

Tamora looked down at her lap, feeling like he was trying to tell her something with that last bit. She understood the message but wasn’t ready to accept it for herself. With a soft smile, Felix let go of her hand.

“We’ve had a lousy couple of days, haven’t we?” he quipped, earning a small smirk from the blonde beside him. “I don’t know about you, but I could use another slice of pie.”

Tamora chuckled, admiring how the handyman could let his emotions roll off his shoulders so effortlessly. 

“Me too,” she said.

[peskytimeswithscar]

NOW THAT THE HANDHOLDING SERIES IS DONE CAN WE PLEASE HEAR THE THOUGHT PROCESS IM BEGGING

OF COURSE OF COURAE

3rd life : this is the starting point i went off for all of them obv :3 though i chose this type of hand holding in particular because it's close, it shows how clingy they are to eachother and how they want to hold onto eachother, keep eachother safe! the bracelets are representative of eachother,, grians is of pizza's blanket. thing as scar was usually the one who primarily cared for the llama rather than grian, whilst scar has the pizza tribute banner design as grian made that banner for scar! another thing to note is that grian has alot of freckles, because he's in the desert with alot of sun and can't really wear his sweater!

last life : pinky holding!!!!! i chose that for last life since quite alot of grian and scar's interactions in this season had to do with deals and things like that, so i had the idea of 'pinky promises' in mind for that :) their bracelets are a little bit dirty due to them being in. a death game of course, and scars has some ash atthe bottom of his due to his death in lava! and originally i had intended to show that grian had less freckles in this one, and i even drew it out, and then proceeded to remember that my last life grian design has gloves bjfjvt i also managed to forget the wrist hearts for this one, whoops!

w/o the gloves :

double life : i chose this type of hand holding because it looks as if grian is pulling scar away from something, which is something i imagine he had to do alot during this season! their bracelets have become much more tattered since, again, death games and just general wear and tear on hermitcraft aswell. on the tips of their fingers they have a slight purplish hue to them, and also some snow at the tips of scars fingers to show that scar was in powdered snow! (this was kind of inspired by this piece from applestruda, which i looove muah muah)

limited life : admittedly i was SUPER sick while i did this one so theres not really alot of secret little details :( but i chose this sort of hand holding bc it looks kind of secretive! like someone holding hands under a table to hide their relationship or something, bc i sort of love the 'secret teen movie relationship' vibes some people have with lim life scarian!! their bracelets have gotten alot more tattered, being basically one row of the bracelet now showing its age and such

secret life : i chose this hand holding because i personally view the secret life time as the sort of turning point in their relationship, where they've finally gotten over how co dependant they were in 3rd life and have finally accepted that it happened! i mean, grian asked scar to alliance with him, which is something in previous seasons which he has shown he didnt want to do (even if scar had to turn him down cause of his task), they also aren't clinging to eachother like they usually are - in all other seasons they tend to hang around eachother, even if they're not allied, whilst in this one they've left themselves ally and focus on other people, nd i view this on them being more stable in their relationship - the hand holding pose i chose seems somewhat loose, like they're willing to let go, they're not clinging onto eachother like in 3rd life

ok onto the bracelets fkhjhfjbf they still have the thread from their old bracelet but they've added onto them! this symbolises how they've accepted the events of 3rd life, and that they still need to carry on with life regardless of it! i picked out their main colours for this, grians has scars main colour of green and scar has grians main colour of red! they also have charms!!!! scar has a golden wing charm whilst grian has a silver cat charm :D

(another note : i chose those specific metals bc - whilst i didnt put the ring designs in the handholding art - they match what metals i have in my ring designs for them >:3)

ok secret life has alot but thats bc i literally just made it dhvfjv im so happy that u like the art!!! :D im super proud of them

[mxlfoydraco]

Do you happen to know any good Drarry fic with the "De-aging" trope? I've read Away Childish Things and was wondering if there are other similar stories out there

I was so sure I already had a list but apparently not? I'll add ACT as well for future reference, it's one of my all time favorites! I'm also including de-aging a few years, not to a child. Linking a relevant list of mine: Age Difference

Away Childish Things by lettered (153k)

Harry gets de-aged. Malfoy has to help him.

Malfoy Child by Vorabiza (94k)

A potions accident turns Draco into a four-year-old and Harry takes over his care for the next four months.

Pinky Promises Are Powerful Magic by megyal (12k)

Ickle Harry wants to stay with his newest hero.

Teddy Bear Troubles and Other Such Oddities by Kandakicksass (61k)

During potions tutoring with a certain blonde, Harry makes a big mistake. Now he's stuck with a four year old aging a year a week, and he's not sure the boy will make it back to eighteen without turning his world upside down in all sorts of ways.

You Send Me (Honest You Do) by firethesound (37k)

As far as potion accidents go in general, and deaging incidents go in particular, Draco knew this could have been so much worse. Harry only lost about ten years, and all his memories are still intact. But the sight of him looking as if he’s stepped straight out of Draco’s Hogwarts memories has dredged up a whole mess of complicated feelings Draco thought he’d buried years ago, and Draco really doesn’t know what to do with any of it.

'Twixt the Sun and Sward by November Snowflake (30k)

A potions mishap has Harry and Draco meeting on entirely new—or is it old?—ground.

Not Nineteen Forever by @sorrybutblog (5k)

A rogue charm hits on a mission and suddenly, Draco is nineteen again. Harry is still thirty-five and doing his best to look after his de-aged Auror partner (and forget about his long unrequited crush) until St. Mungo’s can brew the antidote. Only, Draco insists on wandering around Harry’s flat wearing nothing but Harry’s pants, flirting like his life depends on it and in the end, Harry’s only human after all.

Christmas with Draco by dracogotgame (9k)

Harry tries to give a two year old Draco the best Christmas ever.

Auld Acquaintance by @aibidil (2k)

All Draco wants for Christmas is for Harry to get home so they can charm their holiday cards and make four different lasagnas to meet their children's and grandchildren's varied food needs. What he does not want is for Harry to get home wearing red Christmas joggers and looking eighteen years old.

Chrysalis by Elfflame (55k)

After the war, the Ministry decides to reform the Death Eaters, and Draco Malfoy is one of the first chosen for the program.

Halloween Night by @dorthyanndrarry (3k)

Halloween only tends to remind Harry of his parents death, there's nothing happy or fun about it. Its a dark day for him. Draco decides to try and change that, to take Harry out and experiences something new. To make new memories. Together.

Growing Pains by SensiblyTainted (190k)

The summer after Sirius’ death: the abuse at the Dursley’s leaves him broken. Snape is asked to try and help, and discovers that the key to saving Harry may be Draco, who has returned after his own difficult summer.

A Change In Perspective by Roozette (121k)

Once there was a potions accident... Ha! Harry turns five, much to the distress of the I don't want to be a Death Eater brigade.

To the Moon by VCCV (35k)

Draco is turned into a child. Harry takes care of him.

Life From the Start by LunaParvulus (74k)

A botched up de-aging potion and Harry suffers from the results. Now, Draco is hands full of one adorable Harry. What if Draco came to like Harry in his baby-state? Can both pretend nothing happened when Harry is back to normal?

P.S. This trope used to be more popular, I got to link from ffnet again since forever ago!

[ilyuu-archive]

warnings : hurt/comfort, fluff, lots and lots of longing, use of childe’s real name, childe is childe (explodes), lmk if i missed anything! just him coming back home,,,

happy birthday aki!! and now, a little present for you <33

close. you’re close.

a flurry of snow fell from the skies, and the snowflakes, each a trait to their name, melted the moment it touched the palm of your hand - rather, the mitten. you splay your fingers to the air, letting the wind, so still, as of now, nip at it. still, you could feel it, the icy droplets, trickle into the threads. everything is a canvas, a frame, enveloped in a glaze of pure, sparkling snow.

a place you (and him) call home.

each step that you take, a faint footfall, accompanied with a crunch, seems to break the quiet, the stillness of life, hidden away in the crevices of warmth, of safety. each breath you draw in, a minty, airy feeling mixes in. and every one you let out, the puff of breath crystallizes into mist.

you’re almost there.

you nestle yourself further into the scarf, a burning fire, almost, against the landscape. a rich red, swathing you, as a silent shield and, as you like to think, a pair of arms burrowing you from behind - it’s a bit of a dream, you’ll admit, since the last time you’ve felt that same comfort has been months.

his touch faint, almost phantom as the loose threads of the fabric grazes your skin with every shift of movement. and it always comes as a reminder, as bittersweet, as taut at it makes your chest. that enough made you yearn for him again. it never did take much from him for you to fall back into his arms whenever possible, with the little time that you had him to yourself at least.

maybe a bit selfish, as the memories of few and fewer moments you shared with him drizzled in.

his voice, his scent, his touch - you didn’t want it to be true, but you could barely remember any of it. the one thing that you do is his handwriting, and even then it comes so seldomly. those nights you run your fingertips on each letter, each word, hanging onto them like a last string, a line.

but maybe it wasn’t.

you hold a handful of the cloth in the palm of your hand, as if to hold onto the remnants.

“don’t go ahead and forget about me too much,” he said, a lilt to his voice that you’d loved (and love.) his hands slipped the scarf around you, a loose loop. “keep this for me until i come back, got that?”

“aye aye, captain.” he pouts. “…i’ll keep myself safe, ajax. don’t worry.”

“that’s better.” he presses his forehead against yours, and the two of you share the small space for those few seconds. when he says something, there’s a soft stroke to his words. “i’ll be back. i don’t know when and i can’t promise that, ”

“you sure?”

“what, wanna make a pinkie promise on it?”

you tug on the edge of the scarf. it’s almost as if it’s a piece, an extension of him in some sort of way. “this is enough of a promise for me.”

“you’re so cheesy it’s cute.”

“shut up.”

“well, since you insist….”

“not now!”

a promise that he’ll come back. and a promise that you’ll wait with open arms, welcome him back, and bring him back into what he’d always called home. no matter how long it took, no matter what time did to either of you two.

(you remember the look on his face as you said it that one time. it was almost— no, it was indescribable. it was nothing yet everything at the same time, too much all at one fleeting across his features in a matter of seconds. other than that, you don’t know what he was feeling, thinking - not even a letter or a word of a thought as he kept you in his arms, his hands clutching onto anything at all, and all with a shiver in his skin.)

(if there was one word you’d use to describe him that day, wherein the winds howled, bitter bites of frost on the panes of windows - the world has grown cold and cruel - it’d be desperate.)

you’re here.

the trees, thin, lofty barks and branches crooked part to an endless sea, its waters stifled, yet still moving. each step you take, this time, invites you in close and closer with its creaks. crates, barrels, and loops of rope litters the piers, but it’s all part of the backdrop as salty wisps of steam soon flowed in, a small boat decks at the docks. it whistled, and someone took a step onto the pier, the boards creaking underneath their weight as yours.

you didn’t even need to take another step to know who. and, like so many times before that, and many more to come after, you open your arms - wide, as if to - and said, “welcome home, ajax.”

he didn’t hesitate falling in, his own arms wrapping around your waist, and you’re swathed in the familiar warmth and comfort that is childe, that is ajax.

he breathes you in, and lets it all out - a sigh that is filled with relief and content all together, to the brim. the curls of his hair tickles cheek, and you couldn’t bite back the smile that lifted the corners of your lips. he feels it against his skin, and the smile he soon wears is infectious.

“oh, this feels nice.”

“you say that every single time.”

“because it is every single time.”

“you’re so cheesy.”

“damn, the tables have turned, haven’t they?” a pause. his voice drops to a whisper, brittle; it sounds like a shell of himself. “…missed you. so much. a lot.”

you tighten your arms around him. everything - his touch, his voice, his scent, his everything - floods back to you. it’s bittersweet thinking that he’ll leave again soon, too soon for your liking, but you shove those thoughts to the margins of your mind.

just enjoy this bit at least, you told yourself. and you did. “i missed you too. more than you’d know.”

another pause. “…is that a contest?”

“ajax!”

(if you’d use another word, it’d be relief.)

general taglist (open!) : @/zuyoo, @starz222, @haliyamori, @kazumist, @/tartaglia-apologist, @mikacynth, @angelkazusstuff, @doumalove, @kpop-and-otome, @emo-mess, @kissedbysilk . . .

[hamspamandjamsandwich]

“After days of running in circles, he’s at his wit’s end instead of his thread’s. Human civilization is proving to be more insufferable than he’d anticipated, a feat previously thought to be impossible. This concrete jungle that the Jagan has led him to is especially offensive, with its dense masses of loud, ignorant humans and asinine chatter.

But as much as Hiei can’t stand it here, his gut insists that this is where he’s supposed to be. The thread’s soft, ethereal appearance has become a radiant red glow ever since he arrived, so he’s been foolishly hopeful.

He’s in the process of letting go of said foolish hope right now.

“Damn it, damn it, damn it!” is all that Hiei has to say as he slams his fist repeatedly against the cold brick wall of some seedy bar, tucked away in a dark, dirty alley—the sort of place that sleazy men and their ilk frequent.

A solid week hunting for answers, tolerating these inferior beings walking amongst him, and he’s found nothing but more of the universe’s cruel and unusual punishment.”

Chapter 3 of my Kurahi Soulmates AU has been posted. <3 our lovely demons finally meet~!

What a labor this one was! Love how it turned out though. Sick of reading it after editing all day lol

[straw-beret]

what's up with the pacman machine in the link click opening?

well friends, I'm about to cobble together some information that is so irrelevant to the main plot!!

(also: i came up with this theory prior to episode 11 coming out, but when it did, it only really solidified it for me).

more under the cut :) and spoilers for the most recent episode of link click (episode 11 season 2)

if you know me from my most recent link click post, you'll know i am unnaturally obsessed with the claw machines of the season 2 opening.

But wait, what's that third machine in the middle? The yellow-ish one that's sort of dimly lit?

it's a fucking pacman arcade machine.

a pacman arcade machine that doesn't appear in the show itself.

being me, i had to go on the most unnecessary deep dive into what the hell the relevancy of this pacman machine could be. it's jammed between two of the claw machines in the intro but mysteriously absent in the episode itself. and while i don't have an explanation for THAT (if anyone has an idea, pls lmk!!), i do have some info on the game.

when you start up a game of pacman, this is the general visual you're going to get:

In my opinion, the most important thing to note is the colours of the ghosts. Notice we've got three in that box: blue, pink, and orange. And outside we have red. Do these colours happen to remind you of anything— or rather, anyone?

that's right. the link clickers are the ghosts in Pacman.

All jokes aside, I do think there's at least a bit of merit in this observation. Because red— i.e. qiao ling, is isolated from the power users.

(pink could be either of the Li twins, for convenience's sake i'm just going to assume it's Tianxi for one bit of speculation i'll explain later).

Why isolate one of the three original mains from the other two, and instead have a new character take her place?

Because, as I speculated before in my claw machine theory, qiao ling is not safe!!! in both the claw machines and Pacman, the symbol/motif associated with Qiao Ling has been positioned on the outside of the box.

Now, a character being in the box doesn't guarantee safety, you'll know this especially if you've seen the most recent ep (s2e11) and the trailer for ep12. However, it does provide something of a line of defence— i.e. the box is sort of a symbol for the fact that CXS, LG and LTX are power users.

Qiao Ling was the very first person to get possessed by red eyes, she is the most 'vulnerable' of the OG 3 in that sense. aside from her martial arts realness, she can't defend herself on a supernatural level. she no way of teleporting out of a fight like CXS or seeing into the future to predict her opponent's moves like LG could.

qiao ling, as a normie, is isolated from the power users and thus more at risk to being harmed by the enemy. For the ghosts, it's Pacman, and for the link clickers, it's this motherfucker:

crustlord of the century Qian Jin.

I think pacman is supposed to symbolise him on account of 1. the yellow eyes and 2. the fact that he's out to get basically every single one of the ghosts:

QL

CXS

LG

LTX

Hence why this theory works a lot better with LTX as the pink ghost instead of LTC— Tianxi betrayed QJ, and the one thing he hates most is betrayal.

I feel as though the AI patterns of the Pacman ghosts sort of align with this too:

"Each of the four ghosts has their own unique artificial intelligence (A.I.), or "personality": Blinky (Red) gives direct chase to Pac-Man; Pinky (pink) and Inky (blue) try to position themselves in front of Pac-Man, usually by cornering him; and Clyde (orange) will switch between chasing Pac-Man and fleeing from him"

"Each ghost's name gives a hint to its strategy for tracking down Pac-Man: Blinky always chases Pac-Man, Pinky tries to get ahead of him, Inky uses a more complicated strategy to zero in on him, and Clyde alternates between chasing him and running away."

^^ those two quotes are from the Pacman wikipedia page, a robust source indeed. in the first quote I put the colours of the ghosts in bold and by their proper names for reference.

If we assume Pacman is QJ and Red ghost is QL, and we remember how she bitch slapped QJ in episode 3 season 2:

I'd say that at the very least the AI behaviour + QL's actions are somewhat correlated. And i'd say that the AI behaviour of the other ghosts lines up with their respective characters, LG being strategic and CXS being a bit more chaotic in his approach. As for Xixi, well, we kind of haven't seen enough of her to say.

but "via," i hear you say, "Li Tianxi got fucking murk'd in episode 11, AND she's the one with red eyes! why isn't she the red ghost, and not qiao ling?"

I see you and I hear you. Both QL and LTX have associations with both red and pink, and in fact upon first coming up with this theory i thought LTX was the red ghost as well. But considering the placement of the Pacman machine (between the claw machines+around the rabbits, see my previous post for details on the stuffed rabbits and their relevancy) as well as official art and in-show costuming, I figured that it made more narrative sense (and theory sense) for QL to be the red ghost. Plus she's just more heavily associated with red than either of the Li twins, who are costumed in more light pastels

for reference, I put TC both in and out of drag above^^ and in his xixi cosplay, he wears almost entirely pink.

back to the theory. Qiao Ling's ghost is on the outside; and the stuffed rabbits that I'm almost positive symbolise her are piled on the outside of the claw machines. Surely this isn't a coincidence, right?

this all comes back to my theory that Qiao Ling, as the outsider of the group, the only one without powers, and the last to be informed of all the supernatural happenings, is going to meet a certain fate either by the end of s2 or around the start of s3. And I think the show has tried to set it up from the start.

Although Qiao Ling didn't become incredibly plot significant until I'd say about halfway through S1, we saw a few glimpses of her that were framed to highlight her vulnerability. Off the top of my head, I can definitely think of the horror-movie esque way s1e3 opened, where a strange man, later revealed to be Chen Xiao, approaches her from behind after appearing in a dark alley. Plus there is of course, her possession by LTC in s1e11. So from the get-go, she is framed as the odd one out of the main 3, and the most at risk.

then we get to the intro of s2, with the stuffed rabbits and the pacman machine, and it starts to come together, as stupid as that may sound. the writers are foreshadowing that something is gonna happen to Qiao Ling, and given the way everything connects, I'm of the opinion it could be death, or possibly grave injury.

that's all i've really got to say! curious as to what others might think of this, because it's all founded on the colours of a fckin Pacman game lol.

_

having seen the e12 trailer for s2 and qiao ling looking like she was gaining a power, I wonder how the finale is going to play out and if it will fit with the visuals and symbolism in the intro. oh well, we'll see!

also good LORD these posts take a long time to make!! let me know what you think, and also if you've got any clue as to why the Pacman machine appears in the intro but not the episode. Maybe IP reasons, although i don't see why they'd end up including it at all in the intro if copyright or IP was a concern. anyways, that's all!

[commanderauri-art]

Thief Lock and Key ch 2

“Where’d you disappear off to?” Erin asked in a searching tone as he entered the clock tower at long last. Looking up, Garrett could see the girl had braced her hip against the banister of the top landing peering down at him with a half smile on her face. Her hood was pushed away from her head and pooled around the back of her neck revealing dark brown close cropped hair. The dark circles under her eyes stood out against her light skin. Like him, she didn’t go out during the day much if at all. The younger thief arched her eyebrows at him in a silent question as Garrett slid the door closed behind him.

“Saw an opportunity to make a quick bit of coin and took it,” Garrett replied simply. Erin merely rolled her eyes as he made his way up the stairs, his footfalls soft against the aging wood.

“Riiiiiight,” the girl replied, drawing out the syllable as she walked over toward the open window their carrier birds flew in and out from. “You saw an opportunity to fuck with the Watch during the day and took it.”

“You could say that,” Garrett allowed as he neared a display case and opened it up to gently slot a unique and beautiful looking diamond ring into one of the red velvet slots before securing the case once more. “Any word from Basso?”

“All right. Keep your secrets.” Erin stuck her tongue out at him before leaning against the open window sill, rifling through the various little boxes no bigger than her pinky. “Ah, yup. He’s got another client job. Ol’ Ritchie Chambers claiming some dusty tome of his got stolen by the Baron. Says to come to him for more details. Another here’s asking for an update on the Baron Dreyfus job you took up a few days ago and this one… Oh, this one I can handle.” Erin held the little box between her thumb and forefinger, rocking it back and forth.

“And which one is that?” Garrett went to snatch the box from her hand but Erin moved it quickly out of reach. He had to admit Erin was getting faster and more adept since she’d tagged along with him. After a moment’s pause, Erin chucked the box underhanded to him. Garrett plucked it out of the air and glanced at the tiny scrawl written on its surface.

“Lady Marimond is in the middle of moving her belongings to her third husband’s house past Riverside. Client’s asking a pretty penny if we, more namely I, steal a silver hand mirror encrusted with supposedly very precious diamonds along with a pair of earrings. They also added they’ll pay extra for any additional piece added to the collection,” Erin explained as she hopped off the window sill just as another small bird flew in. She landed in the spot Erin had just vacated and bounced away, a slip of paper wrapped around one leg.

“Jenivere, I was beginning to wonder where you’d been off to,” Garrett remarked in a soft voice. The bird hopped into his waiting palm and held relatively still as he unfurled the message she bore.

“Who’s it from?” Erin asked, attempting to peer around the taller thief’s shoulders.

“Basso. Says the Baron’s increased the number of guards around the manor. This has to be the third time in the last four months.”

“It’s probably due to some distant relative he’s got living with him now,” Erin said with a shrug as she helped herself to Garrett’s stash of extra supplies. “Don’t worry. I’ll pay you back. And yeah. Some cousin or niece or whoever moved in a few months back. Where’ve you been, Garrett? Living under a rock?”

“I don’t normally keep up to date on who’s living with Baron Northcrest. Most of it’s idle gossip anyway. You know better than believe most of what you hear.”

“You’re no fun.” Erin nabbed a bundle of arrows and stuffed them into her quiver. “Rumors going around say she’s some sort of weird eccentric her parents pawned off on the Baron. That she’s completely unmarriable with a hunch back and a bad eye. They say she’s also got a sizable dowry but no man back home would take her.”

“Why bring her here then?” Garrett asked after letting Jenivere go. The plucky bird flew up into the rafters to preen her feathers and settle in for a quick nap.

“Nobody knows. Ever since her carriage arrived, nobody’s been able to spot hide nor hair of her. Baron’s keeping her under lock and key since she moved in. The intrigue’s piqued a few mens’ interest but those who’ve gone in for one reason or another to speak with Baron Northcrest still haven’t spotted her. I’m half tempted to scale the walls myself.” She waved off the pointed look Garrett shot her way dismissively as she finished pilfering his supply stash. “I know that look. I won’t. I won’t. All right.” Erin patted her clothes down before pulling her hood back over her head. “I’ll be paying Lady Marimond a short visit. Have fun speaking to Ritchie without me.” Without so much as backwards glance back, Erin vaulted up the window sill and began to scale down the tower’s wall quick as a lizard.

“I don’t know about that girl sometimes though the Baron’s mysterious guest sounds interesting,” the Master Thief said to himself. “Should see what Basso has to say about her. Not much in this city gets by without him hearing about it.” After restocking his quiver from his steadily dwindling supply, Garrett left through the same window Erin had exited and made his way over to the rooftops to the Crippled Burrick.

—-

“Who you askin’ about? The Baron’s cousin?” Basso looked up from the ink stained ledger on his desk at the thief standing before him. Basso’s office was situated directly below the tavern. Conversation drifted dully down to the pair as Basso scribbled something onto the paper, swearing quietly as the quill spilled black ink over the page. “These damned quills. Ever since they switched to a new supplier, I swear, they haven't been the same since!” He continued his mutterrings as he tore the page free and began to copy over his work onto a fresh page. “I’m puttin’ in a complaint the next time I need to stock up. They’re shit!”

“The girl, Basso,” Garrett said, annoyance leaking into his voice. Raucous laughter could suddenly be heard through the ceiling just then, drawing the thief’s attention upwards briefly before settling back on the portly man. His clothes were in desperate need of a wash.

“Right, yeah. Yeah.” Basso finally pulled his attention away from his scribbling. “I don’t know all of what to tell ya, Garrett. Like Erin’s said, girl’s been a recluse since comin’ here. Don’t know if it’s due to the Baron or a quirk of her’s. Some of my boys think they caught sight of her leaving the carriage when it first pulled in here but apart from that, nada. Why the sudden interest anyway?”

“Call it idle curiosity. Anyway, you’ll both have your answer by this week’s end.” Basso arched a furry eyebrow at him askance. “Ritchie Chambers claims a book of his somehow made its way into the Baron’s possession. He’s asked that I return it to its rightful owner.”

“Oh, that old sodden pisspot.” Basso laughed and shook his head. “Better make sure it’s actually something of his this time, yeah? That man would lose his head if it wasn’t attached. When you stop by his shop, tell him still owes twenty gold pieces the last time he was here. This ain’t a damned charity.”

“I’ll let him know you said hi,” Garrett replied, offering up a rare smile before tugging his face mask into place and slipped out the back.

“What? That’s not what I said, Garrett! Garrett? Damn him to hell,” Basso called out but the thief had already vanished.

—-

“I don’t know why you and that mead head Basso never believe a word I say! I’m telling you the Baron stepped into my shop three weeks ago asking about some dusty tome or another, wandered about when I wasn’t looking and left without buying anything. I entered my private back room and the novel was gone! I know for a damned fact that arse head stole it. He stole it!” The short, stocky man with oversized glasses sliding further down his beak shaped nose flapped his hands animatedly as he paced back and forth in front of Garrett. The light affixed to the ceiling in Ritchie’s back office flickered twice before steadying itself.

One look at the desk crammed into one side revealed crumple papers, invoices and newspapers littering its surface and spilled onto the carpet which didn’t look much better. There were ink blots everywhere and it appeared to have not been cleaned in some time. A hutch hugged another wall and, through the slits, one could make out piles of books hidden inside.

“I take it reporting the stolen book to the Watch didn’t conjure up any favors?” the thief asked in a dry tone as his gaze tracked his new client. Given how short the man was, Garrett could clearly see a bald spot that had been poorly combed over in an attempt to hide it on the back of Ritchie’s head.

“No, they didn’t. They just laughed me out of the building,” Ritchie Chambers replied indignantly as he halted his pacing for a moment to readjust his suspenders. “‘What does the Baron have need of a book on flowers, anyway?’” he continued in a mocking voice, supposedly imitating one guard he’d spoken to. “Flowers have many medicinal properties and the Baron was specifically asking about a certain strain of poppies. I admitted I did have a book like the one he was searching for but, I will repeat, it was not on sale! That means jack all to Baron Northcrest.” Chambers let out a huff and placed both hands on his hips, tapping his shoe in a rhythmnless beat.

“Do you at least have a book similar to it so I know what I’m looking for? I’ve heard the Baron’s library is vast and going in blind won’t do me any good. The less time I spend there, the sooner you get your book back.”

Chambers darted towards the hutch and yanked open its doors, the hinges squeaking loudly in protest. He rummaged furiously around until he located a tome that looked similar to the one that had been stolen. He then shoved it into Garrett’s hands and stepped back, crossing his arms over his chest.

The thief glanced at the man before peering down at the novel. He ran a light thumb over its surface, tracing a part of its title in the process. It had clearly aged some, one corner was moth eaten and the pages were slowly turning yellow. “‘Dr. Russeou’s Guide to Everything Medicinal?” Garrett read the title out loud, giving Chambers another look. The stocky man just shrugged.

“It’ll look just like that minus the words,” he explained. “A large golden poppy is emblazoned on the front and an eye on the back. It’s about this thick, maybe a few pages less, and the fabric is a blood red color.”

“And you’re positive that’s the one Baron Northcrest stole,” Garrett said, sounding rather skeptical as he handed the book back. Ritchie took it and cradled it to his chest, frowning at the thief.

“Yes, I’m sure. I know there was a mix up in the past but that tome is mine. I’ve reached out to other blackhands but most either passed me by despite the price or laughed in my face then tried to rob me blind. Master Thief, if you’re able to retrieve my stolen property, I’ll double my asking price.”

“I have been meaning to upgrade my bow. Add an additional fifty gold coins and you’ll have yourself a deal.”

“Done,” Ritchie replied quickly. “When do you think you’ll have it back by?”

“Week’s end. I’ll need to search the manor. Extra guards will be patrolling the grounds. They’ll be covering my usual entry points.”

“All right then. I’ll await your return, Thief. Hells, if you can take back any other books from that bastard, please do. He deserves his comeuppance.”

“Politics doesn’t really concern me as long as I get paid,” Garrett said over his shoulder as he left the bookkeeper behind. He only had a few days to monitor the patrols and search for openings in the guard. This was going to prove an interesting challenge.

—-

The week had proven to be rather uneventful. After recovering from her first day of sword play, Elizabeth fell flat on her bed. The day before, she’d slipped out of the manor, keeping mostly to Stonemarket, and had stepped into the Burrick for food and ale. The place had proven to be full of gossip, most of them involving the affluents in their gilded houses and the remaining bits centering around her. She’d done her best to keep from laughing at their ridiculous theories and imaginings as she ate her meal and returned to the manor shortly after with her shopping clutched in hand. There’d still been no word on the Master Thief and she’d been tempted to ask the tavern keeper if he’d heard anything but she didn’t want to stir up any suspicion.

How do you search for someone who doesn’t want to be seen? Even asking around the manor’s guards hadn’t revealed anything of note. The man was a ghost, aided by the spirits. Bestowed upon were skills one was given if they made a deal with the devil. It was hard to keep from rolling her eyes at their tall tales. From the brief interaction she’d had with him, he was merely a man. A skilled one at that but just a man. Rolling over onto her back made her wince. Her arms felt leaden. The trek upstairs had been difficult and she knew she had to wash off but that meant leaving behind her comfy mattress.

Lottie was away downstairs looking after dinner business. Apparently the Baron was entertaining yet another batch of guests and she was to remain out of sight. Fine with her, Elizabeth detested formal dinners. Having to wear a corsets for an ungodly amount of time and taking only tiny bites as was seemly for a woman while the men tore into their meat like savages. Then came the polite conversation. How was she doing? What hobbies did she partake in? How good was her sewing? Did she have a husband yet? Why not? Oh, child, one does not marry for love. Love matches are a rare thing! One marries for wealth and riches and influence. Elizabeth let out a snort and heaved herself up and off the bed, hobbling into the bathroom.

Turning the water to its hottest settings, she poured a bit of scented oil and salts to ease her sore muscles and waited until the tub finally filled to the brim. She hissed as she entered the steaming water and sank in until it rose up to her chin with her hair floating around her like kelp. It didn’t take long for her to hear the Baron’s guests arrive and their voices echoed up the landing though she couldn’t make out their words. It didn’t interest her much as she let the warm water work its magic.

She must’ve dozed off for sometime as rolling thunder jerked her awake. Elizabeth floundered briefly and winced at the crick in her neck. How long had she been asleep? The candle on the sink counter had only melted down to just over the halfway point and the water was still somewhat warm. Her shoulders and the top of her head were not. After dunking her hair and washing off quickly, Elizabeth pulled the plug and wrapped herself up in a soft towel then, once dry enough, changed into a robe before making for her room and into her night clothes. The oils left her skin soft and a floral scent clung to her damp hair as she loosely braided it and threw it over one shoulder. A flash of lightning illuminated her bedroom momentarily prompting her to pull the curtains close and then slip into her nightgown.

After hanging her towel and bathrobe to dry, Elizabeth peeked out her door. Inane conversation could be heard faintly. Clearly, their guests were still here. Sleep was still far from her reach and she hardly felt like drawing. What she really wanted to do was get down to the library but how…

The servants’ stairway! Grinning a little at the idea, Elizabeth left her room quietly as she could then padded down to the far end of the hall when she pulled open a small two foot wide door. The staircase inside was just as narrow but it would take her directly down towards the library level and, thus, into sanctuary. After nearly slipping twice and smacking her shin at least once, she finally made it to her destination. Lights were still on here but were spaced out far enough to allow deep shadows into their gaps. The hearth was cold but it seemed someone had placed in a few new logs since she was last here. After getting some kindling to catch flame and tossing it onto the wood, she very quickly had a hot, roaring fire.

Settling into her favorite old recliner with a tall back and plush cushions, Elizabeth picked up the book she’d last been reading and let out a content sigh. Nobody would bother her here. The guards were aware that if she were away from her room, they’d find her on this level or out in the gardens, weather permitting. While she mourned the loss of a hot cup of tea, Elizabeth did not fancy leaving her spot unless absolutely necessary. Plus, she’d just gotten to a very steamy scene in her novel. Nothing could pull her attention away unless it was an act from the gods. Or a thief.

She couldn’t quite tell what it was exactly that drew her attention from the pages but it was enough to make her glance up in time to see a shadow move to the side no more than fifty feet away from her. Her movements stilled immediately and she didn’t dare breathe as she waited. There it was again! Now she was certain someone was down here with her. Whether it was her shadow from the week prior or someone else entirely, that remained to be seen. The fire had since died down to nothing more than burning embers, allowing the darkness to cloak her in its embrace. Elizabeth was quietly grateful for slipping into a dark gown and foregoing slippers despite her feet getting cold on the way down.

She waited for the shadow to dart out of sight before moving from her seat. While she didn’t have her dagger, there was a fire poker at her disposal which she very slowly eased out away from its fellows. Elizabeth stepped back around her chair, makeshift weapon in hand and waited for movement to show her where this shadow was. She had her answer a few short seconds later. A bolt of lightning flashed, blanketing the room in white light through the long, floor to ceiling windows. In that split second, Elizabeth could make a dark cloaked figure perusing the shelves. It had to be her shadow, she was sure of it! But what in the heavens was he doing here?

A job. He has to be carrying out some sort of job. Why else would he be here? Certainly not looking for you, some plain looking woman from Riverside.

Steeling herself, Elizabeth figured this would be the best chance she’d get at maybe an answer or two. And perhaps seeing the fire poker in her hands would show him she was most certainly a threat. Or so she hoped. Elizabeth really only had a day’s worth of proper training. This man here had a lifetime of experience working against her but perhaps it’d still give him enough of a pause. Elizabeth walked on the balls of her feet, stepping softly, carefully across the old wooden floors. She’d walked amongst these shelves ever since she first arrived. She knew where most of the creaky planks were. To be safe, though, she kept to the rugs as much as possible as she closed in on her quarry. Whenever thunder cracked the sky, Elizabeth used it to her advantage to get even closer until she was maybe two meters away from him.

The thief was standing before the dying fire, the dark red-orange glow catching on his armor. He was looking for something, muttering to himself in the low rumble of a voice.

“Dark red cover. Poppy on the front and an eye on… the… back. Well, what do we have here?” That matter of fact statement almost made Elizabeth lose her nerve and drop the poker until she realized her shadow wasn’t speaking to her. He was talking to a… book? Her head cocked to the side as he lifted the novel up from the mantelpiece and examined it carefully, his long fingers stretching across the cover and traced the image carved into the front. “It seems I owe Mr. Chambers an apology. Northcrest really did have it here. Go figure.”

Something in his tone very obviously indicated he was about to slip out the same way he came in. She was going to lose her chance! Before she could change her mind, Elizabeth took in a breath to prepare herself and leaned forward to poke the Master Thief in the small of his back. Even through the cloak and leather armor, he could definitely feel it. She watched him carefully lift up his arms, the pilfered tome still held in hand.

“You know, it’s not just anyone who can sneak up on me,” he remarked, glancing at her over one shoulder. The one eye she could see was studying her rather closely. It was almost like he could see right through her. Resisting the urge to wrap her arms over her chest to word off his piercing gaze, Elizabeth fixed him with a look.

“Yes, well, that’s what I get spending most of my life invisible. Now. Put the book down. You and I are going to have a little chat.” She tried to sound intimidating but she could hear much past the sound of blood rushing through her ears.

“While you hold a poker to my back?” The thief huffed out a laugh. “I don’t think so.” Elizabeth opened her mouth to shoot off a retort when he dropped the book and suddenly wrapped his cloak around the sharp end of her makeshift weapon. She then felt it yanked hard out from her hands. The metal cut into her palms and knicked her left hand in the process. Before she knew it, the poker had been turned around on her. Their roles now reversed, Elizabeth very, very reluctantly held her arms up and gave the Master Thief a withering glare that would have sent a weaker man running. “You really need to work on your stance. Footwork can certainly save you in a fight,” he quipped. Elizabeth’s eyes narrowed a fraction. It was like he was enjoying this and it infuriated her all the more.

“Noted,” she replied through gritted teeth. Damn him! There goes that failed plan.

“So, is this the famed cousin of the Baron Northcrest that I’ve heard so much about? Hm.” His head tilted a little to the side as he peered a little closer. “And the plain Jane from Glimmer Lane. Who would’ve guessed you two were the same.”

“You don’t get points for your shitty rhyme.”

“Your words wound me.” The phrase was said with a bit of dramatic flare but the fire poker never wavered from her body.

“Give me the poker and I’ll show you how much that can really wound you,” Elizabeth bit out. The smile she gave him bore more of a threat than kindness.

“It's a wonder you haven’t yet found a husband, isn’t it? With that tongue of yours, men should be falling over themselves after you.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake. Not you too. Just because you got me away from those halfwits last week does not mean you get a say in my damned love life!” Elizabeth nearly shouted as she took a step forward in anger, her arms down at her sides. Her fists were clenched tightly and shaking just a little. “I’m not some sow to be put on display for everyone and their damned mother. Let alone some blasted thief!”

The thief in question appeared to wince in mock sympathy. “Touched a nerve there, didn’t I? Sorry, sweetheart.”

“Fuck your apology, Thief.” Elizabeth let out an explosive sigh and rested her hands on her hips before giving him yet another signature glare. “Keep aiming that damned thing at me and I will scream,” she threatened.

“Doubtful. You would’ve done so the moment you first saw me.” His eyes crinkled ever so slightly above that half mask. He was very much enjoying getting a rise out of her.

“You wanna bet?” She bent at the waist just so and peered up at him with a mirthless smile.

“I only ever bet on things I know I'll win.” That tone he used was deliciously dangerous and sent a thrill down Elizabeth’s spine. Her lips parted as she angled her face slightly away from him when the lights shut off, covering the entire manor in darkness. The sound of the generator powering down reverberated throughout the lower levels before being overwhelmed by a woman’s scream of fright followed by male cursing.

“What did you do?” Elizabeth hissed, whipping around to face the thief. Frankly, she was surprised he still remained standing there.

“That wasn’t me. The storm must’ve blown out the breaker.”

“I don-“

“Miss? Miss Elizabeth! Are you down here?” A guard’s heavy footsteps could be heard as he shouted near one of the landings across the library. Elizabeth went to respond when she was pulled rather harshly backward by her shadow and closer to her reading chair. She felt her dress being bunched tightly in his hand while the other angled the poker enough that she could feel the end prod her side.

“Get rid of him,” the rogue growled out in a warning tone. At the moment, it hit home with Elizabeth on just how threatening this man could truly be. For the first time, she felt fearful of him. If truly pressed, he would kill her.

“I-I’m fine, Charlie!” Elizabeth finally called out after clearing her throat twice. “Just a little startled is all. W-what happened?”

“Storm, miss. Musta blown out a breaker or somethin’. We’ve got someone workin’ on it now!”

She could hardly hear the rogue breathing behind her. Had he not been holding onto her dress, she would’ve suspected he’d disappeared.

“Perfect, thank you!”

“Will you be all right down here in the meantime, miss?”

Oh, for fuck’s- “Yes, Charlie. I will be! I’ve enough firewood to last me through the night. I’ll wait until the lights come back on to head upstairs.”

“All right, miss. They should be back on momentarily.”

Neither relaxed until the guard’s footfalls could no longer be heard. Once he was well out of earshot, Elizabeth ripped her gown from the thief’s clutches and stumbled backward a few steps until there was ample space between them. She was grateful the lights had gone out and the fire was nearly gone as she was certain her face was bright red from embarrassment and anger.

“All right. He’s gone. You’ve got your chance to leave. Now go,” Elizabeth bit out, wrapping her arms around her middle. A soft dull thunk could be heard landing away from them. The thief had tossed away the poker, keeping it well out of reach from the both of them.

“You really didn't scream,” her shadow remarked after a heartbeat. His eyes glittered eerily in the dark as he watched before stooping to pick up the discarded book he’d been sent to reclaim, such as it was.

“You’re still hung on that?” Elizabeth shook her head in disbelief. “Clock’s ticking, Master Thief. They’ll have the lights back on shortly and the grounds will be covered in guards.”

“In a minute. Would you have, if the guard hadn’t shown up?”

“You first. You failed to answer my question. Why should I answer yours now?”

There was that soft laugh again. “Word to the wise: any man you marry will snuff out that spark you’ve got. When you do pick one, make sure he can handle it. If not, he’s not worth keeping around.”

“Right. Like I’m going to be taking love advice from a damned blackhand.”

“Hey, I only call it like I see it. You’re a rare breed. Most women I’ve encountered run, mainly screaming, away when they first see me. You? You went after me with a fire poker and attempted to detain me.”

“Mmhmm. And we both saw how that panned out, now, didn’t we? Fat lot of good it did me.” Sarcasm was just dripping from her mouth. “Let’s not replay those events. Now, back to my question, Master Thief.” He didn’t seem overly inclined to dispose of her especially since she wasn’t impeding his means of escape. That did let her feel a bit more brave.

“You had asked why I intervened,” the thief stated as he brushed some errant dust that had collected on the book’s surface before tucking it away in a bag stowed on his person.

“Yes. What was I to you?” Elizabeth paced a little, eyes squinting at the dark man shaped blob in front of her. “There were three heavily armed men. You could’ve just left me there. Hells, most others would have.” She threw her arms wide. “So, why didn’t you?”

The thief seemed to make to leave without answering her but stopped. He drew in a breath then let it out slowly. “There’s a lot of bad in this world,” he began, picking his words deliberately. “There are days when I feel like I’ve seen it but then there’s something else out there that surprises me. I’m not exactly what you’d call a good man.” He laughed briefly but there was no substance to it. “But those men were going to do something inexcusable. I can overlook plenty but-“

“But that you couldn’t,” Elizabeth interrupted, drawing the rogue’s dark gaze.

“To put it simply, yes. It was reckless and certainly dangerous but those types of men need to be put in their places. Had you not been there, there would’ve been tumbling into watery graves.”

“I’ve… already let the captain in charge here know,” Elizabeth said hesitantly. “I made up some story about hearing a rumor and the captain went off to investigate. The man in charge of those cronies was likely suspended but I don’t know about the other two.”

“It’s better than nothing. Too many of those folks get away unpunished.”

“I’m well aware of that, Thief.”

“I also stopped because of you,” he added.

“Me?” Elizabeth guffawed and scoffed. “What about me? I was scared shitless.”

“You almost couldn’t tell considering the holes you were glaring into the captain’s face.”

“I wanted to claw his bloody eyes out but I think he would’ve sooner stabbed before letting that happen.”

“That’s a… safe assumption.”

“Don’t worry. I haven’t been down that way since you’ve warned me. I really don’t fancy a repeat meeting.” Elizabeth shuddered a little. “Something tells me those boys have not forgotten my face. Or maybe they have. Most do, anyway.” She’d glanced away toward the window just as another flash lit up the room. The mechanic was certainly taking his time repairing the blasted breaker box. A small gust of air brushing her arms was all that indicated the rogue’s presence. Elizabeth nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt his thumb under her chin and tilt her head back to face him.

“You give yourself too little credit, Elizabeth,” her shadow murmured gently. “I, for one, never forget a face.”

Faster than she could react, the thief pulled back and, with a wink, disappeared into the shadows blanketing that half of the library. Moments later, the lights flickered back on and the low hum of electricity could now be heard. Elizabeth was still staring off the way he’d left before she clapped both palms to her ever heating cheeks.

Oh my gods! What in the name of the seven hells-? He just- And I- Gods! For the next several minutes, Elizabeth continued to scream quietly inside her head. On her trek upward and into bed, after ensuring the fire was out completely, did the mental screaming continue. Come dawn, she was surely bringing Lottie in on what had just happened. Her handmaid was most definitely going to give her the scolding of a lifetime but certainly going to enjoy every bit of drama regardless.

Burrowing deep below the warm covers, someone had stuck a covered pan with hot coals to scare away the cold, Elizabeth replayed their interaction in her mind’s eye. The thief could’ve just been charming her in order to make sure his getaway was swift and clean but what if… No. No. She was not going to entertain that thought. Definitely, definitely not. He was not flirting with her. He was not! But what if he was? The implication caused her to blush ever more and Elizabeth yanked her comforter well over her head, drowning out the sound of rain pattering against her window.

It wasn’t until the following morning that Elizabeth realized she never answered his question. Something told her she and her shadow were going to be meeting again very soon.

[lcs-library]

I'VE BEEN LOVING THIS!! LC could i ask if possible one pomegranate and green tea for Tsuzuru as in, you know, the usual reader? and theeeeen could you do coffee for him again but with Haruna sob I don't have much of her but I trust you with my life ksdhchjk basic info is those two are a super slowburn, she's a med student and has a similar personality to tsumugi <3 love uuuuuuuu take your time no rush!!

WAHHHHH HI EMMMM<33333. You want…. Me??? To write Haruna??? Ueueueue…….. I’m so honored…. I hope I did her justice!!

Request rules

Request game

Pomegranate: answered here!

Green Tea: How do they comfort their s/o?

🖋️ Tsuzuru’s one of the best when it comes to comfort I think.

🖋️ He heard you had a bad day and he’s already at your side rubbing your back and asking if you want to talk about it.

🖋️ That said, he definitely goes into older brother mode and can and will treat you like a child on instinct.

🖋️ He’ll get you something to drink and tell you to be careful not to burn your tongue in the softest tone of voice, and make sure you don’t spill, even though you’re fully capable of handling it.

🖋️ He will also not leave you alone, he’s constantly at your side, you’re stuck with him. Sorry. He’s worried. He wants you to be okay.

🖋️ He seems like the type to already know your preferences and will follow them to a T.

🖋️ You prefer physical affection? He’s got you in his arms, patting your head, making sure you feel safe and grounded. You want a distraction? He’s already turning on your favorite movie and grabbing a snack.

🖋️ He’ll definitely talk you down from the situation until you’re calm again, offering you simple decisions to make, and putting the issue into a new perspective.

🖋️ “See, there you go, we’re all good now, right? Did you get everything out?” He asks gently, smiling even as your eyes are puffy and red from crying. You nod, and he sighs, relieved, as he ruffles your hair. “Good job, I’m proud of you,” he praises, kissing your forehead.

🖋️ And ofc it all ends in you two falling asleep on the couch ehehe<33

Coffee: Do they get jealous? How do they show it?

🖋️ I’m setting this during the pining stage you can’t stop me

🖋️ Tsuzuru’s not really the type to get jealous, honestly. He’s really chill about that sort of thing.

🖋️ That said, after becoming friends with Haruna, he’s surprised to find this feeling in his gut when some of the male students in her classes start trying to hit her up.

🖋️ Even when it’s simple things like asking her to a mixer, there’s this odd way his stomach starts to turn, unsure of how he feels about the idea of her going.

🖋️ What if she finds someone there? What if she likes them, and they like her back? What if they want to hurt her? Maybe she wouldn’t care, and she’d end up stuck in some torturous cycle, and she could end up living an awful life. He didn’t want that.

🖋️ Any friend would… right?

🖋️ But then why did his heart start to ache at the thought of her introducing him to a partner? Why did it hurt to imagine her leaving him? Wait, they weren’t even dating, why was he imagining a breakup? He didn’t even like her in that way!

🖋️ …right?

🖋️ “Tsuzuru? You alright there? Kentaro was asking if you wanted to come to karaoke with us!”

🖋️ Haruna’s voice snapped him out of his spiral of thoughts.

🖋️ “A-ah, no, I’m good. The next script for the company is due soon, so I’ve gotta head home soon anyway. Maybe next time, though,” he replied, his hand finding its way to the back of his neck.

🖋️ “You promise?” She asked jokingly.

🖋️ “Yeah, I promise,” he said with a grin, holding up his pinky on instinct.

🖋️ Haruna blinked for a moment, only to link her pinky with his, giggling.

🖋️ And when she let go, Tsuzuru couldn’t help but want more than their pinkies to touch.

[vexic929]

Ooh how about “tears of fear” or “trying to wake them up” for Beth & Barry?

angst tiiime!

"tears of fear" from Bad Things Happen Bingo info on Beth here

"Bethy, go back to sleep." Barry whispered as he felt a tug on his pajama top. He'd crept out of his room to see what was happening downstairs after the water in his fishtank had started…floating. It was weird. And now, looking down the stairs, there was a lot of light but it didn't seem like it was coming from the TV.

Beth rubbed her eyes and clung to his arm, her other arm wrapped firmly around her worn stuffed hedgehog toy, the purple bandaid she'd put on its nose hanging on by a thread. "I'm thirsty." She said back quietly.

"I'll go get you some water-" Barry started but Beth whined.

"No, I wanna go with you!"

"Shh!" Barry shushed her, resisting the urge to put his hand over her mouth. She'd just lick him if he did. Gross. "Fine, but be quiet, 'kay Bethy?" Barry said with a sigh. He grabbed his sister's hand and led her down the stairs, careful not to make too much noise.

But when they reached the main floor, Barry couldn't help but approach the living room instead of going towards the kitchen. His mother sat in the middle of the floor, looking terrified, surrounded by flashing red and yellow lights like some sort of weird tornado.

"Mom!" Barry blurted in a panic, barely catching Beth before she ran forward.

"Mommy!" Beth wriggled and thrashed in Barry's arms, causing Barry to stumble back with her in his attempts to keep her safe.

"Barry, don't! Don't let him touch you, don't let him touch Beth!" His mother screamed.

"Mom!"

"Nora!" Their father was suddenly in front of them, pushing them back further, behind him.

"Stay back!" Nora screamed, barely audible over the racket surrounding her.

"Nora! Hold on!" Their father called before turning to Barry and Beth. "Take your sister somewhere safe! Run, Barry, run!"

Before Barry could respond, in a flash of yellow light, he and Beth were on the damp, quiet, dark street, still in only their pajamas. "Dad? Mom?" Barry called.

He heard a soft whimper and, when he looked back, Beth was sitting on the ground with her face buried in her hedgehog plushie's fur. "Bethy?" He asked gently, sitting next to her. She was quiet for a few moments before she lifted her head to look at him. Her cheeks were wet with tears and she looked terrified. He immediately pulled her into a hug. "It's okay, Bethy. It's okay. We're gonna be okay." He shushed her, rubbing her back comfortingly.

"I want mommy and daddy." She sobbed. "And I'm- still- thirsty!" She wailed between hiccoughs. "And-and- what if the…the scary lights come after us again? I thought lights scare monsters!" She cried, burying her face back in his pajama shirt.

"It's okay, Bethy. I'll protect you. The lights are gone now." Barry assured her, using his sleeve to wipe away the tears on her cheeks. "Dad'll come get us soon." He lied. In reality, he had no idea what was happening. But he needed to keep Beth calm and safe.

"Promise?" She asked, her voice small and shaky. She looked up at him with her big hazel eyes, filled with fear and uncertainty.

"I promise." He replied, holding out his pinky. With a small hiccough, she wrapped her little finger around his and he squeezed it tight.

[bonemarrowrites]

Bury My Broken Bones

Contents: M / M, Cis / Trans, Demonic humanoid x half-elf, slow burn, implied self-harm, gentle sex, bittersweet ending.

Short explicit fantasy story. A villain meets his wounded adversary. +4k words.

Scroll to this ╭ᑎ╮ mark to skip the story parts.

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

The freezing winter wind hit my face immediately after I had cast my teleportation spell. The pale light of twilight painted the snowy scenery with cool-toned redness. The blizzard had ceded, leaving most of the bodies under a thick snow blanket, some had tried to escape their fate by climbing on top of each other, frozen in place like icy marble statues. The bloody wounds some of them had endured colored snow as I took in the crisp air.

The infernal blood within my veins helped me keep warm, but every time the cold winds lashed at me, I felt shivers. With the calling stone in my hand, I tried to find the one who had used it amongst the fallen bugbear army. Despite the coldness surrounding me, I was thrilled. I wanted to find him. Maybe I could witness his last breaths on this earth or I’ll find his already cold dead body, whatever would be the case, I’d have finally won and there was nothing to stop me from finding the rest of the artifacts we both were searching for.

As I walked forward, the snow around my armored boots melted from the heat. The frosty mist made it hard to see far, but part of me could feel him close by, the ritual we both had gone through made sure of it.

In the middle of all the weapons poking from the snow and barely visible bodies, there was a large dead tree. I could feel its magic and saw that there was no snow on the dark bark. Whatever curse lay within, had kept it clean. There, I saw him, lying against the tree and his name escaped my lips.

“Sangar,” I whispered to myself as I walked towards him. Sangar’s body was a little paler than usual, his dark hair had been wetted by the blood coming from a wound on his head, and a trail of blood had frozen against his already blue lips. The half-elf didn’t look like much now, had the people who adored him seen him now, they would have laughed. Yet, his left hand still gripped tightly the calling stone.

I knelt down and leaned forward, I wished I had been the one to take him down, but now he had met his end in battle with the northern bugbear army. I was sure even he didn’t see that one coming. Had I still had a heart, it would have been beating hard against my chest as I leaned even closer to inspect Sangar’s body.

When he slightly opened his eyes and began to breathe with a rattled sound, my heart would have certainly jumped from my chest as I backed off.

“P-please,” Sangar muttered as he took loud gasps, “… Kill me.”

“Wait, what?” I muttered confused, almost offended by his request. Sangar closed his eyes, losing whatever was left of his strength, and forced himself to muster in his last thoughts.

“Please,” He said again, “Just take my life, end this,” unable to add anything else, Sangar looked like all I needed to do to kill him was a simple poke with my pinky.

My thrill had soured. Him begging for his life had been part of my plans, but him pleading with me to end it had not. I scratched my stone-sharp beard and looked at him.

It had to be a trap, I thought to myself. Sangar always had a plan, managed to pull out some sort of miracle to escape near-death experiences. Where were his friends? Those who had almost killed me while protecting him? Why was he alone here? This all seemed to be too good to be true.

“No, you elven bastard, I’m not going to help you!” I growled, “I’m not falling into your trap!”

I put my claws over his wounds and began chanting a healing spell. Once I had been a great healer, but nowadays I leaned more toward entropy. My powers rushed from within me to my hands, and the light spread all over Sangar’s frail body, closing his wounds.

But he did not wake up.

I was forced to use more of my powers but no matter how much I strained myself, he wasn’t healing properly. His wounds were not only on his body but also somewhere deep within. I got up and kicked the fresh snow, dispersing it everywhere. I decided to quit and began to cast myself back to my lair.

My spell withered away as soon as I was done casting.

I looked at Sangar, then my claws, and back at him. The cursed tree was siphoning his life force and had drained my powers. Angrily whipping my tail I kicked the snow again, this time hitting my feet into an obsidian axe making me curse from the pain.

Fine, I said to myself. We’ll stay here.

I picked Sangar up and realized how small he truly was. I had always looked down on him, literally and metaphorically, but now he looked just pathetic, not the hero everyone thought he was, and not the girl I had known back in the day.

I wrapped him into my cloak and began to walk farther away from the tree. Not sure where I should head. The sight of me carrying my archnemesis must have looked funny if there had been anyone to see it. My body gave some heat, but it wasn’t nearly enough in this environment to keep him warm.

In the distance, I spotted one of the large tents the army had used as a shelter and took him there, as we got closer I saw the other tents buried in the snow, this one was tilted, but still standing. The thick fabric had kept the roaring fireplace safe during the blizzard and it was still somewhat warm. As we entered I laid Sangar down to the furs covering the floor and began to heat up the tent.

When it was warm enough, I hunkered over Sangar and removed his armor and clothes, ensuring he didn’t have any weapons with him. My blackened armored skin brushed hard against his vulnerable body, making him whimper softly in his slumber. My burning eyes trailed his nude scarred body. Sangar had gone through a lot and some of those scars were left by me. I pitied him, I had been in the same situation as him before I realized the truth.

There was a prophecy, as there always was, that one day soon someone would rise and stop the deadly Blooming Sea from spreading through the continent, saving everyone. At first, the blind seers had named me as their herald, but the quest they wanted me to embark on meant that I would have to sacrifice my life to save the world and I chose a different path. Sangar and I had been training together for years until that fateful day. Somewhere deep within me, there was still part of me that cared for him, I had never told him how I truly felt and it mattered little now. When I had declined to be their chosen one, they took Sangar and ever since then we have been enemies. We both needed the same magical items to achieve our goals.

Gently, I brushed his cheek and pulled my cloak over him again, covering his body. Sangar’s lips had begun to turn rosy again as the fireplace behind us crackled gently with heat. I was lost in my thoughts, thinking about things that had been and what could have been, nodding off slowly.

I dreamed about the Blooming Sea as I always did. I was standing in the middle of a beautiful flower field, filled with colorful flowers and vibrant scents. I was human again, my dark skin contrasted the flowers around me, and as I took one into my hands, the rot began to spread from the flower into my hand, my veins burning from the pain and I could feel the thick pollen in my lungs, choking me, my eyes watered as everything turned black.

I gasped awake as I heard a loud clang.

Sangar had woken up too and was now backed away against the tent wall, holding in his hand one of the daggers he had stolen from my belt. His hands trembled as he forced himself to hold it. My weapons were not made for mortals and holding it must’ve felt painful.

“Drop it,” I boomed as I got up, “You’re only hurting yourself!”

“No! What have you done to me?!” Sangar held my cloak over his body, there was fear in his eyes had only seen twice before. The day I chose my own fate and once when I almost slaughtered his friends.

“A lot I now regret,” I replied back, “I’ve healed your body and carried you to safety, I’ll leave you to whatever you were doing as soon as my powers return to me.” Revealing my weakened state might have been a mistake, but this was unknown territory for both of us. We had not been in the same room in years without trying to kill each other.

Sangar collapsed onto his knees and dropped my dagger. Weeping softly into his hands. The part of me that still cared for him wanted me to go to him, but I nipped that thought in the bud.

“Listen, whatever you were going through out there is none of my concern, but you will get cold if you stay far from the fire, look here,” I said before moving away from here, “Go beside the fire and I’ll stay farther away.”

Perpexled by my words, Sangar crawled next to the fire.

“Why did you help me?” he asked.

“I didn’t, I helped myself,” I scoffed, in all honesty, I wasn’t sure why I had spared his life.

“Okay… How did you find me?” his confusion matched mine.

“A couple of weeks ago you were in a tavern with your group, you met a tavern girl and laid with her, she put a sigil on your calling stone so I could track you, you tried to use it after your battle with the bugbears” I replied back.

“Hmm,” Sangar pondered for a moment, “I didn’t expect it to work so well.”

“What worked so well?” It was my turn to ask questions.

“We knew about the woman, it was actually her who told us about your plan, real sweet thing that one,” Sangar smirked. I knew this had been a trap, I took a step back and looked around me, but I could only hear the howling wind outside the tent.

“Don’t worry, I wasn’t that smart,” he chuckled, “I got separated from my group and they were too far to hear my calling, but I knew your little spell might actually give me enough range to reach somebody and by that somebody I mean you.”

I tilted my head from curiosity, “You wanted me to come here?” I asked.

“I was weak, I had no way out, I was dying. I thought…” Sangar paused, “I thought maybe if you came, and finished me off, the whatever power I have already collected inside might be released and turn the tide against the fight with the Blooming Sea.” Sangar’s gaze dropped to the ground as he said the last words.

“You were desperate,” I added, tasting his words. I knew the feeling too well. The constant fighting and the looming destruction of the world had not been easy weight to carry. Trying to think of another plan to destroy the Blooming Sea had been taxing as well.

“Well, as much as I’d like to kill you, I’m not going to do it until I regain my powers.” I was lying through my teeth. I could easily snap his thin neck or pummel my weapon into him, but it didn’t feel right, not when he was still so weak. I’d never been a man of strong principles, but some part of me wanted to meet him in a fair fight.

“So we’re stuck with each other, huh?” Sangar chuckled, he knew he was too weak to do anything to me. To my surprise, he patted the place next to him as an invitation to join him. I walked to him and sat down, my body easily towered over him as we sat side by side.

“It wasn’t just the thought of releasing the power,” Sangar said softly before adding, “I’m tired, everyone looks up to me and I need to watch what I say or do constantly, I need to set an example and not only that, I need to be strong when I want to fall apart and I need to lead a group of people who might die if I make the wrong decisions, some…” Sangar’s voice trembled, “… And some have already died.” Tears began to pour from his eyes.

Things had gotten awkward very quickly.

“Hey, listen… You know you don’t need to do this, you can always quit, just like I did,” I said, my raspy voice making me hardly sound like I was trying to comfort him.

“I can’t! I need to save the world,” he sniffled, unable to stop his tears now that he had finally given himself the permission to cry.

“You don’t even know if it’s going to work and what makes you really think the others deserve their lives more than you?” I growled. My choice had been straightforward, I knew my worth, I knew I was never going to sacrifice my life for someone else, no matter how many lives I could save. Maybe some of it had been cowardice, but I didn’t regret it and I knew there had to be another way.

“… But if it works, the world will be saved.” Sangar reasoned.

“Yet, you won’t be,” I answered quickly, “The seers have been wrong before, many times in fact, you don’t know if their prophecy even is true. I was the chosen one before you and when it didn’t work out, they were quite quick to make it all about you,” My words were harsh, but so was the truth to me. There was no prophecy and no sacrifice would save us from the spreading rot.

My words seemed to anger Sangar, he got up and turned to face me with tears still running down his cheeks, “THEN EXPLAIN THE DREAMS WERE BOTH HAVING, WHY DO WE HAVE NIGHTMARES ABOUT THE BLOOMING SEA!”

“Because we’re afraid of it. We were trained to think about it all the time,” I answered, finding surprising softness to my voice, my words had put doubt into his heart, turning Sangar’s tears into rivers. He collapsed back onto his knees and pressed his head against my empty chest.

I lifted my hand and put it gently behind his head.

The same questions had haunted me a long time ago when I still believed in the prophecy. I knew the loneliness he was feeling even now, my refusal had made me enemies, some seeing me as some grand villain determined to destroy the world. Some had seen through the seers lies and joined me, but I could hardly call them friends.

If he needed a shoulder to cry on, let it once be mine. I might be able to use his weakness later. Between his tears, he managed to mumble something.

“I can’t feel your heartbeat.”

“I know,” I acknowledged with a slight nod.

Together, we huddled near the fire as the wind outside began to pick up speed again. From the sounds of it, it was winding up to become another blizzard. There was still some food in the tent and I gave it to Sangar, my body did not need it anymore, but every now and then I tried some for the taste. Sangar stayed curled on my lap, sucking up the heat my body was giving. This whole thing felt unreal like I was finally dreaming about something else than those damn flower fields, I even tried to pinch myself a couple of times to see if I was actually awake.

I watched as Sangar slept somewhat peacefully, slowly regaining his strength.

I had traded my heart for more power and in had turned my skin almost as solid as diamonds, the darkened material was more like armor, but I could still feel Sangar’s deep breaths and the gentle heartbeat. My hardened skin was still soft enough to sleep against it seems. I had always been jealous of his ability to embrace others, to trust and feel sympathy even towards those who might not deserve it. Sangar certainly was a better chosen one than I’d ever been.

After a long nap, Sangar’s eyes fluttered and he almost jumped when he saw me, calming down quickly as he remembered what had led us into this bizarre situation. I wondered if I should leave, but finally having a peaceful moment for myself seemed more tempting. Here, in this forsaken white purgatory, I didn’t need to be anything else, I could just be and it looked like Sangar felt the same way.

The half-elf lifted himself up, pushing his nude body against mine, and looked directly into my eyes.

“You’ve changed,” he said casually.

“So have you,” I scoffed. Of course, I had changed, I had traded my heart for power and infused a demon lord into my soul, an idiot could have seen what the corruption had done to my body.

“If I recall correctly, there used to be a girl who cried every time she stubbed her toes or saw a dead bird,” I smirked, before adding “Yet, now there is a man in front of me.”

“I like myself more like this,” Sangar answered, pausing for a little bit before continuing, “It used to be a cover when my group was visiting a place where women were not allowed, I and one other chose disguises and I guess that’s was when my actual disguise dropped,” Sangar stated, “And yes, he still cries when he sees dead animals, only not so openly anymore,” he added. His eyes examined my face carefully, he didn’t recognize it as the same he had seen so many years ago, before the corruption, before all of this.

╭ᑎ╮

“I remember a boy who defended me from the others when they questioned my heritage. Is he still somewhere behind those glowy eyes of yours?” Sangar questioned.

“I don’t know…” I whispered, “He used to be there, questioning my every move, asking if we were doing the right thing, but he has been awfully quiet lately.”

“Is there any way I can reach him?” Sangar asked, there was a moment of silence between us before I pulled him in for a kiss, my lips meeting his, finally giving in to the urge I had held for so long and had even forgotten over the years. Sangar did not fight back or try to pull away, his soft lips caressed the hard surface covering mine. Years ago I had been too reserved to act, now I had learned to live in the moment, not hesitating about what I believed to be rightfully mine, but he had gone too far from me.

I wrapped my hands against his waist and he felt so small in my hands. We shared a wanting glance before I began to kiss his neck, slowly moving to his arms, kissing the scars he and his enemies had inflicted on his skin. Sangar whimpered softly against my shoulder as I kissed the burn marks he’d gotten from using the artifacts we both were after before muffling his weeps with kisses.

My demonic blood ordered me to kill him, but I quickly shut the voices away, feeling the heat building up between my loins. Sangar swayed his hips against my body and pulled himself as close as he could be and I could feel his small body trembling. I pulled him down and pushed him on his back, kissing his small breasts, and moving slowly toward his groin.

All of a sudden, Sangar pushed me further away and looked at me.

“Just… Don’t hurt me…” he pleaded.

I gave him a silent promise with a kiss we both knew I would break, we would hurt each other one way or another. No matter what was going to take place here, neither of us would or even could change the fates we were heading at. He would still try to save the world by sacrificing himself and I had my ambitions, but just for tonight I could give him something to forget all that, gift him a moment of respite.

I moved down to kiss his folds, gently circling his clit with my tongue. Sangar moaned with pleasure and grabbed my horns to hold onto something. His legs wrapped around me as my forked tongue found his wet hole. I pushed my tongue all the way in and licked his insides, my thumb gently kneading his clit with the same speed. With one hand I released my bulging cock from its bindings and began to pleasure myself.

Sangar’s back arched as he came, his inner walls pushed against my long tongue as I pulled it out and crawled on top of him. He glanced at the fat cock in my hand and his eyes widened.

Demonic corruption had its perks when it came to the size and shape of one’s member.

I pushed my shaft between his fold and thrusted against the already sore clit with my tip. Each thrust made my throbbing balls hit his cheeks. Sangar’s euphoric expression made me grin and I wrapped my hand over his throat, knowing all this was now mine to do as I pleased.

A revered hero whimpering like a bitch in heat below me.

My knotted member rubbed his slit, covering it with wetness coming from within. The hero’s eyes begged for me to enter, but I wanted to play with him, edging him towards another climax. I licked my lips and kissed him deeply, forcing my tongue into his mouth, fucking his throat with it. Sangar was squirming under my heavy body, trying to escape but at the same time wanting to stay. I began to open up his entrance with my flared tip, slowly pushing in, with each fingerbreadth gained, Sangar gasped, his eyes fluttering from the pleasure.

I moved my tail to meet his rear and began to push inside, his wetness had dripped between the cheeks, giving me enough lubrication to prod in. His hips dropped as he tried to adjust to my cock, only for my tail to enter deeper into him from behind, jolting him back up. Sangar’s involuntary movements forced me deeper and deeper. I marveled at the sight under me and rammed my member deep within. Sangar moaned loudly when I released his mouth from my tongue’s grasp. Even the howling wind outside could not cover his cries.

My tail impaled his guts from behind as I began rhythmically to ram into him, reaching his womb with my large tip. The hero’s body and mind were completely under my control and there was nothing more I loved than control. Like a savage beast, I hastened my movements, pistoning into him rapidly. It didn’t take long for him to reach his second orgasm, now more powerful than ever. Sangar’s toes curled as he locked me deep within with his thighs. Not letting the pressure he put against my member and tail slow my pace, I kept pommeling into him, his squeezing pussy milking my rod to no avail.

It wasn’t his convulsing body or the fact how good he felt that made my balls pulsate, it was the way he looked at me in a blissful daze. Without slowing down, I slammed into him with force two more times, before burying my member and tail deep into him, I snarled, grabbed the fur on his sides, and threw my head back as I released my plentiful seed into him. The hot fluid covered his walls and entered deep within when my massive balls twitched against his thighs.

A wave of burning sensation rippled through my body as my demonic seed filled him, Sangar’s legs keeping me inside, making sure he wouldn’t spill a drop.

I gave him a deep longing kiss before collapsing next to him and taking him into my arms. Sangar panted against my chest, still twitching from bliss. Even though some part of me wanted to mount him again and again, I resisted, the man had gone through enough for the night. As I withdrew, my seed began to gush out of him. Our moans had turned into soft huffs. I thought about what we had just done and what it could mean for the future when I heard a soft snoring coming from underneath my wrapped arms and I knew what I had to do.

I got up, covered his worn-down body with my cloak once again, put up a few protective glyphs, and gave him one last kiss. Sangar looked content, maybe this time he didn’t dream about the Blooming Sea and the end of the world. I gently brushed his dark hair with my hand and stepped away. For a moment I swore I could feel something beating beneath my chest, but the feeling quickly faded away. With few words, I cast my spell, teleporting me far away from here, because as much as I’d wanted to stay, I knew it was never meant to be. He had his destiny and I had mine, staying would hurt even more in the end.

For a moment, my spell lit the room with a gentle orange glow, before disappearing, taking me with it.