#but if you step too far away from the crystal it will solidify again. I find this neat and fun.

[hollowsart]

the only real errors and problems/bugs I've faced playing Pokemon Scarlet is the distance objects and world parts flickering sometimes with loading, my Azumarill's textures going a bit weird in spots on its body (only in Kitakami near the crystal pool), Koraidon being caught in a perma-fall once or twice in weird places that made no sense and the game needing to fade to black and put me back on the ground.

as well as the.. 3? times that it kinda froze up and I had to restart it. the first time was when I was playing it for the first time and was trying to enter the Lavincia gym. another time was when I was trying to exit out of a raid den.

and also the picnic table not loading in once or twice. plus the occasional halt while it buffers and loads something for a sec.

that's really about it for what I've experienced. all those other bugs people have been experiencing about falling through the world or having the eyes and teeth of their trainers bulge out horrifically, or whatever else that's been game breaking n stuff.. I have never once experienced that.

My theory is it's perhaps due to the online multiplayer, however.. I've only played with 1 person max less than 5 times and still haven't experienced anything crazy.

I'm not complaining or anything, I just find this interesting how varied everyone's experiences are with these games, for both the main game and the DLC's, too.

[oregano-writes]

Tartaglia's 5-Step Plan for Wooing Morax- Chapter 9: Negotiations

Zhongli was idly looking through paperwork at his desk when he heard a sharp knock from outside.

“One moment,” he called out, before walking over and opening the door of the office.

The Fatui agent waiting on the patio handed him a small box. “From her Majesty the Tsaritsa! May her glory reign eternal!”

Once the agent had handed Zhongli the box, they scampered off as fast as they could, as though they had been frightened. Although, as Zhongli considered it, it likely wasn’t often that the bank workers got direct orders from Barnabas, and any person important enough to warrant deliveries from her was almost certainly dangerous in some sense.

He placed the box on his desk, picking up an envelope knife and carefully slicing apart the tape keeping it closed. Inside was a round Cryo crystal and an accompanying note. Urgent– Break away from mortal eyes.

Since Hu Tao was out running errands, Zhongli supposed that it was as good a time as any to see what the ever-elusive Cryo archon needed to contact him for.

──────── ✧ ────────

After locking all the doors and clearing out a space in the entry hall, Zhongli took the crystal between his fingers and turned it around, seeing how it reflected the sunlight, before dropping it, and watching it crack apart on the floor. For a moment, it looked as if nothing was going to happen, but then the crystal began to crack and dissolve further, until it was only a thin sheen of powder across the floor. It then began rising into the air, forming itself into a figure. It stayed slightly foggy looking for a second or two, before condensing into a clear projection of the Cryo archon, Barnabas.

The projection, originally motionless, suddenly jerked to life.

“Ah,” muttered Barnabas. “It worked.”

“That it did.” Zhongli could make out the edge of her throne behind her, which she walked backwards to sit on. However, the projection didn’t change location, the throne appeared to approach her, making for an altogether odd visage.

“You wanted to talk to me?”

Barnabas nodded. “Yes. You remember our discussions earlier, over the possession of your Gnosis?”

Zhongli sighed. “For the last time, Barnabas. I cannot simply surrender my Gnosis for nothing. You of all people must understand that a Gnosis is worth far too much for that.”

“Hm. And what would be worth as much as a Gnosis?”

Zhongli considered that for a second. “I do not think that any worldly possession could be worth as much as a gnosis. I am fed, clothed, and housed– everything else is a luxury I can live without. It would be selfish for me to trade it away to make only myself happier.”

The Tsaritsa hummed again. “So, you would only trade it away to help someone else?”

“I wouldn’t trade the Gnosis away for just anyone, but yes.”

“What about a soulmate?”

“What?” 

“Would you trade away your gnosis to save your soulmate?”

Zhongli made a confused face at that. “I guess I would make such a deal for a hypothetical soulmate of mine, but I am not in any sort of relationship at the moment.” Unless– could she mean–

Barnabas smiled sweetly, leaning over to the side of her throne, and pulling up a swirling mass onto her lap. The cloud warped slightly, before solidifying into a sickeningly recognisable face.

“What have you done to him?” The phrase, intended like a question, came out threateningly. “If you have hurt him–”

When Zhongli stepped forward and reached out towards Childe, the projection only dissipated around his hand, like a reflection on a pool of water.

The Tsaritsa simply tutted at him. “Now, now, Morax, I would assume you of all people would play fair in a negotiation like this. I truly didn’t wish for it to come to this, but if this is what I must do, I will not hesitate.”

She carded her fingers through Childe’s hair, who still didn’t move. As the frost making up his form reassembled, Zhongli thought he could see crystals of ice along his hair and neck.

“Barnabas. What have you done to him?” Zhongli repeated.

“It depends. Will you be cooperating in our little discussion?”

“If I must. You want the gnosis in exchange for his safety, I presume?”

Barnabas smiled. “Now we’re getting somewhere. And I can even sweeten the deal for you— You can have him. Permanently. I will let him retire from being a Harbinger, and he can even join your little pantheon of Adepti, if you wish.”

Truthfully, there was nothing Zhongli wished for more in the moment than to spirit away the Snezhnayan and not let anything else happen to him, even if he did not wish to admit this to Barnabas.

He reached into his chest, pulling out the small gold chess piece that had caused so much trouble.

“You may have it.”

The Tsaritsa reached out a hand of ice, and when she touched the gnosis, the frost creeped over its surface, before it was but another of her Cryo constructs. She turned it around in her hand. With a flourish of her hand, it disappeared, and in the same motion, the ice covering Childe’s skin disappeared, and he stirred slightly. She lifted him by the shoulders and placed him into Zhongli’s waiting arms, where ice and snow was quickly replaced by skin and fabric. Zhongli looked up to where the Tsaritsa was, only to see that the misty projection had already disappeared, and the only thing left was a thin sheen of water on the ground. 

Childe stirred in his arms, still fully asleep.

“Shh,” Zhongli murmured, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “You’re safe now.”

──────── ✧ ────────

Zhongli placed Childe down on his bed, tucking a quilt around his shoulders to keep the cool night air out. He looked so peaceful that Zhongli couldn’t help but smile. If this is what giving up his Gnosis got him, it wasn’t the worst deal he could have made. 

He left Childe to sleep while he prepared a pot of soup. He ended up settling on slow-cooked bamboo shoot soup, a specialty of his. It was relaxing to make, the soft, rhythmic chh of the knife soothing his somewhat frayed nerves. He briefly considered attempting to add some sort of seafood, but changed his mind last-minute– he had already given up his Gnosis for the man, he would not subject himself to cooking fish on top of that. If Childe was not grateful for that, that was his own problem, and Zhongli would not hold himself responsible.

When all of the ingredients had been prepared, he combined them, pushing the stew onto the back burner and bringing it to a light simmer. That should be ready by the time he wakes up.

Zhongli reentered his bedroom, picking up a novel– The Fox in the Dandelion Sea– and settling into the chair next to the bed. As he read on, he found it difficult to keep his eyes focused on the page, and, with a yawn, leaned his head onto the mattress next to Childe. 

“Good night,” he whispered, reaching up to brush a strand of hair out of Childe’s eyes with a smile.

[unexpected-satsuma]

PROLOGUE

The stars are bright when you don’t live anywhere near another town.

The entire walk Abigail talks about how far away some of the stars are and all the different minerals to be found in space. She can talk for hours about how the crystals solidify from elements and become structures as large as your hand.

The boys are happy enough to just listen. Sebastian stares at the bushes looking for frogs and Sam skates along slowly on his new skateboard. A birthday gift from his Dad. A goodbye gift, thinly veiled.

Sebastian leads the three of them to the lake on the abandoned land beyond the bus stop. Long ago it was useful land but like most things in this town, it means little to nothing any more. To a group of teenagers, it’s just a good place to camp in the summer and tell ghost stories before the real world gets too close.

Sam decides as he tries to do a kickflip for the first time that he doesn’t care much for stars. He cares for camping trips and sandcastles.

SEBASTIAN

For precisely the fifth time in the last hour, the sounds of heavy boots scraping just above the doorway could be heard. And just like the last four times, there was a final creaking in the load bearing beam.

Sebastian knew all of this because Maru lives by the routine. Hypothesis. Chemical cabinet. Observe. To the sink. Record findings. Repeat.

The methodical nature of her work is perfect. It’s always perfect, and always disrupting his working hours with glass clinking and boots thudding.

His phone buzzes. Sam. He turns the phone over.

He finds himself sitting and staring at the same line of code as he had been staring at for the last hour. Sebastian sat flipping his phone obsessively in his palm, three fingers obsessively stroking the same letters on the keyboard. He recounts the weekend trip into Zuzu City.

His phone buzzes again. Abigail. He puts the phone down.

The code on the screen blinks. How infuriating Sebastian found it to see the code stare back at him, stubbornly refusing to rewrite itself just to save him the job.

Robin knocks at the door, completely abandoning any semblance of being able to do some work today. It just wasn’t happening.

“Come in,” He calls, finally putting his phone away and leaning back in the office chair.

Abigail slides into the room, he should have realised after two texts it would be her.

He spins side to side in the chair, thinking about how different things would be if he had been born anywhere else in the world.

“You coming to the saloon?” Abigail asks, closing the door and immediately seating herself on the bean bags in the game station.

“When I finish work.”

“Which will be when?” She asks, kicking her shoes off and loading up prairie king.

“Make yourself at home,” Sebastian sighs, turning back to the screen. He closes his project, opens it again. It remains unsolved. He wishes that some form of divine intervention would just do something.

The repeated beeping of Abigail losing lives on prairie king moment by moment pushes him closer to some kind of precipice. Maru begins her cycle again upstairs, shuffling between chemical cabinet and sink.

“Put your shoes on,” Sebastian decides, powering off without even saving the meagre progress and taking his jacket from the chair. Abigail laughs to herself as she puts her boots back on and follows Sebastian out of the door.

LEAH

Leah decides when she gets on the train in Zuzu City that she never wants to come back. The train station crowd was pitiful for busking compared to the shopping centre but regardless, a few coins rattled around in Leah's banjo case as the carriage trundles along the rails.

They follow Mia’s directions drawn on the printed out map until they’re in the heart of nowhere. Leah's phone is finally about to die but there’s not even a blip of signal to be picked up anyway and so she stops, drops it into the road and takes a step back to kick it as far as she can.

"Nice one," Mia mumbles.

"That was so Adam-coded of me.”

“For real."

The map eventually runs out and the last place to go is a bus stop. Once their few pieces of loose change had been handed over for a ticket, everything was gone. All their money combined it had taken to buy the land and move there and all their possessions were being dragged along in two big duffel bags. The final stop on the bus route landed the two in Pelican Town as the sun was going down.

Waiting at the stop was the mayor, bright green shirt and flat cap standing out starkly. When he spoke it was underlaid with the snuffling of his overly long moustache.

“This land has been unused for so long now. What did you say your plans were for the place?”

“Make something out of whatever we can," Mia sighs tiredly, preparing a list of complaints about the state of the dilapidated shack standing on the land.

“As a welcome gift to the town, if you need anything, let me know." Lewis shuffles away into the dusky spring evening down the long road to the town.

“What the fuck are we supposed to do now?" Mia asks.

Leah shrugs and puts her bag down, banjo case resting atop. She sets off to collect some firewood while Mia pokes around the shack trying to make some shelter out of nothing.

When the sun slips into moon, they sit around a campfire, resting on their bags. Leah plucks at the strings of her banjo, playing a disjointed tune at first.

In the distance, Mia hears a collection of voices and wonders how secure they are. Leah has no such concern and the disjointed tune soon evolves into Thunderstruck.

The smoke rises into the night and the voices find their way home.

MIA

Day three was the limit on how long they could live without shelter. Night two had been more crisp, less forgiving. The rain had come down in a fine mist and left a spring chill in their bones.

Determined to do something other than sit and watch the parsnip seeds grow, the two venture into town.

Peeking out of the end of the road, the town square opens up. The general store door swings open and closed as a gaggle of women file in talking about aerobics sessions and leg warmers.

“Hey, 'scuse me," Leah calls out, stopping a small boy who runs past.

“You're a stranger. Mom said don't talk to strangers..." He mumbles, taking a step back.

“We just bought that empty land, we're looking for the Mayor. Do you know where he might be?" Mia asked, doing her best to appear friendly to the small child.

“Don't worry Vincent, dear," Calls an old Lady from across the square. "He lives by the river that way, lovelies. Are you the new farmers?"

“Farmers? Yes Ma'am." Leah replies.

Vincent runs away, warily eyeing the two for stranger danger as he heads for the riverside. His brother would make it okay, protect him from the new people in town.

True to his word, Lewis made a deal with the local carpenter, Robin to build a new farmhouse on the land. Supposedly done in good faith, in order to attempt a last chance at re-vitalising the town economy.

Robin was incredibly methodical and had set up two cabins facing each other over the pond in record time. The land began to feel like life could begin there again.

SAM

He skates through the town square and skids to a stop outside Stardrop. The paint on it flakes off in his hand as he carries it through the doors towards his usual spot.

He greets Harvey and Elliot at the bar as he buys himself a beer, dodging around Lewis and Marnie swaying at a table. Too ambitious in one of her dance moves, Marnie jostles Sam enough to spill his drink but not sour his mood.

Everyone knows about the rancher and the mayor, yet pretends they are clueless.

He tuts with a smile as he clutches his board under one arm and winds through to the back room.

As he passes the booth by the fireplace, shadowed by the foreboding bear stature, he realises for the first time ever that the booth is occupied.

Vincent was right.

Sam maintains his easygoing smile with an eagerly racing heart as he dashes for the corner. He props his skateboard against the arcade machines and heads to the pool table with a giddy extra step.

“Guys. Guess what?" He announces, leaning on the table and pausing to take his first sip. The foam catches in his pale blonde moustache and he chuckles as he licks it up.

“You're too cheap to buy a round?" Sebastian asks, standing from the armchair and removing his jacket. He begins setting the table up,

“Funny man. But no. Vincent wasn't lying, we have two new ladies in town."

“I know," Abigail sighs. "They've been in my dad's shop. Some big city girls coming to slum it in Pelican town." She sips at her cocktail and settles deeper into the armchair that's always been her favourite.

“We should go be friendly neighbours. Go say Hi or something." Sam proposes as he rolls the white ball back and forth on the green felt.

“Friendly neighbours, yeah?" Sebastian catches him with a knowing look. He understands Sam’s enthusiasm. There are never new people in the Valley, let alone people who aren’t retirement age.

“The friendliest," Abigail teases.

"Well, be quick about it Sam," Sebastian sighs. "You guys brought me out of work early for tonight."

"You weren't busy anyway." Abigail points out.

That comment leaves a distasteful feeling in Sebastian's throat. He was busy. But Maru's stomping and Sam texting and Abigail barging into his room- he didn't enjoy the implications of not being 'busy'. He was busy, just in ways people didn’t understand.

Sure, people understood the music part of his life because Sam and Abigail encouraged it and they occasionally made some good money for small venues. But nobody really understood his tech work because they didn’t bother to. When the day comes he can finally get a job in the city and make a new start, he’s taking it and never looking back.

“Another drink, anybody?” Sam asks, walking away before even listening for a response. He walks confidently over to the booth, hands sweating and chest thumping.

Sebastian does his absolute best to pretend to be aloof all the while cuffing his baggy short sleeves a little higher on his shoulder, which he knows the girls at the front of the crowd will always like.

Much to Sam’s chagrin, the ladies always take a liking to the quiet lanky one, with the ripped jeans and baggy shirts, the wild mane of black hair and scruffy stubble about his jaw.

The skater approaches the table with a shy look on his face. He does his best to puff his chest out a little, show off his wider shoulders as he threads both hands through his crazy blonde mane and pushes it back.

“Can’t help but noticing you’re new in this very small town. I’m Sam, nice to meet you,” He smiles, nerves almost getting the better of him.

“Hi Sam,” Leah greets, leaning back in her seat. Mia observes the slight blushing occurring on both sides of the exchange, but does her best to play naive.

“Can I interest you in a drink? Maybe you come join us for a game?” He nods towards the pool tables where Sebastian waits, leaning against a pool cue with his elbow lazily cocked.

It is Leah’s turn to notice blinking lashes fluttering in shock when Sebastian waves two ring-laden fingers in an aloof greeting and Mia freezes while reaching for her drink.

“Welcome to Pelican Town,” Abigail greets as she walks out of the Stardrop early for a change.

“I’m terrible at pool,” Mia eventually replies, “so as long as you don’t laugh.”

“Lucky for you, Sam is terrible,” Sebastian appears behind the bench of the booth. “Unlucky for you, I am not.”

As if he cannot believe his situation, Sam glances again at the two women at the table.

“A drink?” Sam asks, pointing at Leah’s half empty gin glass.

“Are you sure?”

“A welcome present,” He smiles back.

Sebastian leads them back to the pool corner, letting the redhead talk his ear off about plans for turning the land into a farm. He stands there and sips at his drink, dark eyes just observing.

Sam’s heart is not still all evening as he stands beside the woman with hair the colour of clover.

[konigsfaerie]

Sapphire Throne

Summary: While in the throne room, Loki finds a way to relieve his new queen's stress.

(sub!loki x dom!fem!reader)

cw: contains bdsm and femdom)

The Mortal Queen is what they called you, even though you were mortal no longer. You spent your childhood and formidable years on Earth, and when you met Loki and were taken to Asgard, your newfound people either loved or hated you. But the people that loved you adored you, would die for you, and the people that hated you really hated you, some going as far to commit treason to get you off of the throne. Some had views like Odin. Views such as mortals are of no consequence, only made to worship the gods of old and die at an early age. It infuriated them that someone from Earth could hold such power not only physically, but at court.

Nevertheless, Loki fell in love with you during your time on Earth and made you Asgard’s queen, and you stepped into the role with such love in your heart for your people, whether they detested you or not. As you sat on the throne, your love next to you, deciding whether to go into enemy territory, you placed a hand on your chin and contemplated for a moment, water running through your veins. “I hate to put our people at war again…. Our soldiers through more battles,” you said, your eyes falling to the floor and then back up to your council members. “But I fear if we don’t, Asgard might fall. We can’t risk our people like this.”

Most of the council members had the utmost respect for your rule, although one or two silently protested your status. “Is it decided, My Queen?”

You gave a look to Loki, and he nodded in return. “It is, Vastros. We will invade their territory within the next nightfall. We go to war this winter,” you proclaimed, slamming down your large staff, the color of lavender. The look on your face was no look of pride, of hope. It was the look of a woman knowing she would send her people to die, even though you were sure we’d win the war.

The entire castle shook with your proclamation, and Loki’s matching staff hummed in response. For many decisions, Loki let you take the lead, as he knew you needed to solidify your title as queen. It didn’t matter much, because on many, if not all issues, you eventually came to the same decision.

As the council members left in unison, both of you stayed at your thrones. You gave a deep sigh, a hand flying to your forehead.

You personally got to know almost all of the soldiers before you were first crowned. At first it was an act of simply wanting to gain trust among the people, but soon they became some of the most trusted friends you had. You were already a trained fighter, but the way of the Asgardians were much different, and your magic was extremely new to you. While you could wield the power of the elements, they taught you power of the supreme weapons they held. This was why it was so painful to declare war. You knew that many of the people you came to love so much would die on a nondescript, frozen-over battlefield, no one to send them off to Valhalla.

“I know you’re stressed, my darling,” Loki breathed, “but you did make the right decision.” His deep green eyes found your chocolate brown ones, full of love and sympathy. “I suppose I never warned you of how much it could hurt… making decisions for a whole nation of people.”

You shook your head. “No… I suppose I didn’t know how many enemies we had. How much they wanted to get their hands on our vaults.”

His face fell to the floor, knowing he couldn’t exactly say something to make all the hurt go away. He knew how much you loved the Asgardian people, your newfound people. And knowing some of them might die… He quickly fell back into his head, as he was quite likely to do. But you knew him completely. You knew his thoughts, his doubts. His thoughts of thinking he wasn’t good enough to rule Asgard, not good enough to rule beside his Mortal Queen, not good enough to love his queen and receive love in turn. You wouldn’t let him fall back into those doubts.

“There is one thing you could do to relieve my stress, pet,” you quipped, giving him a small smirk. While you would maintain your composure at almost all times, the love in your eyes couldn’t be mistaken.

His back straightened on his throne, his eyes slowly finding yours. “Anything,” he said, not much more than a breathless whisper at the sound of one of his favorite nicknames you gave him.

“Get on your knees.”

Loki was wearing his Asgardian leathers, and you also fell into traditional Asgardian fashions, a small blue cape adorning your shoulders to honor your favorite element, with small green accents to honor Loki, only going down to your mid-back. Beyond that, you had a white jumpsuit on and white boots, streaked with even more green.

Before you could blink, Loki was at your feet, his knees on the ground and his back perfectly arched like the good boy he was. “M-My queen.”

Many people would probably guess he was a brat, and you a brat tamer, of which you both could absolutely be, but the gods-honest truth was that he loved serving you in all ways. It got him off. It made his cock twitch. And seeing him on his knees for you made you wet. Something about his willingly submissive nature towards you and only you made you want to make him beg.

“Oh, sweet boy,” you teased with a chuckle, “you’re so ready for me.” Even with all the doom and gloom, you knew that throughout the meeting when he looked at you, he was imagining just this. You placed a boot on his shoulder, contemplating just what you had in store for him. “What shall I do with you?”

The guards were still at the doors, which undoubtedly made Loki more excited, knowing his personal guards knew how much he served his queen.

“Leave us,” you commanded.

As they gave a curt nod and exited with a bow, the doors closed with a loud thud and you gave another smirk. “I know you like it when they watch, my little prince,” you mused, gazing into those wanting eyes.

In turn, he gave a small whimper and bowed his head.

“Unclasp my cape,” you ordered.

His hands scrambled onto your body, feeling on you until he reached your cape, unhooking the small golden buttons with his fingers. “P-Please let me touch you. Please.”

A small, almost nonexistent golden zipper ran down your white jumpsuit, and as you unzipped yourself, you pushed him back onto his kneeling stance. “Touch me?” you teased, his mouth falling open as he realized you didn’t have anything underneath your clothes. Your body lay more than halfway exposed, his eyes going directly to your breasts.

“Touch… these?” You grabbed your tits, pushing them together and twisting your nipples in-between your two fingers. You gave a little moan, spreading your legs so he could see how you glistened.

He knew to stay put. To stay absolutely still until you said otherwise, because he was such a good boy for you. Because he had seen how you enjoyed punishing him so much the last time he dared to touch you without permission, spanking him and not letting him cum for days at a time until he begged for release. The ways in which you punish him each time he disobeys got more creative.

“Now, who’s my good boy?”

“Me! I-I am! I promise, just please let me-”

You grabbed his wrist, pushing his face into yours, letting his lips fall onto yours. As the two of you kissed, you grabbed his throat and pushed him towards your body, making his hands grab your thighs. “Touch me,” you breathed.

He went to work on your body, squeezing your thick thighs, going up to your equally thick torso, cupping your breasts. You could feel his breath hitching. As your tongue flipped over his, you used your powers to slip off his pants, revealing the feminine underwear he had on that you commanded he always wear.

“Up.”

At once, he jumped up and let you survey his body, a small pout on his lips from the ghost of touch he felt. You felt it too, but you’d never reveal that. In times like these, you’d never let him know just how much you needed his fingers against your body.

“Take your shirt off.”

He quickly stripped down, all but his underwear, as you hadn’t ordered him to do so. And he knew how much you liked looking at his cock straining the thin fabric, of his ass popping out of the cheeky, lacy underwear. Loki bit his lip, waiting for you to instruct him further. Needing you to tell him what to do, even yearning for it.

“Such a good little prince,” you observed, putting one finger on the lacy underthings and pulling them down, his rather heavy cock immediately popping out and standing to attention. “And an excited one, hm?”

You finally arose from your throne of crystal sapphire, walking behind and fetching a black collar. “Is this what you want?”

He suddenly was unable to speak, only nodding without abandon, knowing the collar was a special treat you only gave to him when he was extra obedient. You let out a chuckle, placing it around his neck until you heard a click. With any other collar, he might be able to unlock it, but not this one. You had specifically trained with the most experienced of magical designers and created this yourself. Only could you unlock it, and that’s why it excited him so much.

You sat back down upon your sapphire throne, abandoning your jumpsuit and spreading your legs, placing them on Loki’s back, pushing him to your pussy. “Make your mommy feel good.”

His tongue immediately got to work, spreading over your glistening folds and lapping at your clit. As soon as he started moaning, you knew you were done for. The vibrations were already sending you over the edge, and as you groaned, you grabbed a handful of his black curly hair quite roughly, which only made matters worse for him.

He scooted even closer to you, slowly pushing a finger into you. As his fingers pumped into you, you gripped one arm on your chair, the other holding his hair tightly. Not only was he pumping into you, adding another finger, but he curled them, knowing exactly where your g-spot was. “My love-” you moaned, “Fuck!”

His tongue worked away from your clit, obviously wanting to taste you for longer. He stroked your pussy with his tongue, up and down, up and down, which caused you to wriggle around in his mouth. You could hear nothing but moans from him, his tongue diving deep in your hole.

Unable to stand it any longer, you gave him an order. “My clit, now. Make me cum.” You could only hold your composure for so much longer.

You could feel the disobedience thrumming off of him, wanting his tongue inside you for as long as he could. His tongue entered your hole again and in response, you dug your boots into his back and he let out a small cry of pleasure. “Now!”

He immediately realized his mistake, his place, and his tongue started making circles around your clit slowly. “Ah, fuck, Loki!” you gasped. “Make your queen cum, make your mommy cu-” Your body pulsed with pleasure, digging your boots into him even more. As you tried to escape your orgasm, his hands found your thighs and his tongue kept your pleasure in place, making you dizzy as your orgasm reached its height and your hips bucked against his soft lips.

As you came down, your hand wrapped around Loki’s beautiful curls once again, snapping his head up to look at you. You surveyed his beautiful face, his chin dripping with your juices. His tongue licked his lips, and you pressed your mouth to him, your tongue circling his, tasting yourself.

Your hand moved down to his waist, moving him to your lap and pressing him against your chest. “Sweetie?” you grabbed his face, looking into his eyes and putting on the sweetest smile you could muster. “I’m not done with you yet.”

His eyes widened slightly, his cock pressing against you as he made little movements, needing to feel your touch. “Mommy,” he begged. “Please. I’ll do anything, just please touch me.”

Your firm hand gripped his cock tightly. “Like this? Is this what my sweet boy wants?”

He started nodding, his mouth opening slightly as his eyes dug into yours. “B-But I…”

“Use your words, pet.”

“I want to be inside you!” The words almost came out like one, and you gripped the edge of his collar, getting up from the throne and dragging him just beyond the throne room, upstairs to both of your chambers.

As you dragged him above, you glanced at his blushed face, loving the fact that you had total control of him, body and soul. He was yours, and there was no denying that. In that moment and all moments forward, he’d do anything you told him to do.

You both entered your rooms, clad in black and white marble, huge statues of jade and sapphire separating the bedchambers, living spaces, and kitchen. With a stroke of your hand, the candles and fires lit at once, illuminating his face as you pushed him against the stone wall and started teasing the head of his cock.

With a touch of your finger, the collar fell to the floor and before he could start pouting, you pressed your hand against his throat. He gave a smile completely fueled by pleasure, his form slacking against the wall as your hand moved to stroke him. “Tell me what you want again.”

“I want….. I want…. Inside of you,” he whimpered, writhing against your hand.

“And should I let you cum tonight?”

“Yes! Please!” His blush went deep red, his eyes snaking over your form, landing at your drenched pussy, moving his eyes just for a moment at your hardened nipples.

“Please what?” Your face was one of hardened stone, minutes away from bending him over and punishing him until he cried if he didn’t call you by your proper name in the next five seconds.

“Please my queen! Fuck me!”

You gripped his throat even harder, moving him over to the bed lined with silk sheets and white covers. You threw him onto it, flipping him over to appreciate his ass. You gripped it hard, giving it a little spank. You simply couldn’t help yourself, and you made a mental side note to fuck it later until he was whimpering under your weight.

You flipped him over once more, straddling his perfect thighs and placing his hands on your tits. “Squeeze my nipples, my little prince.”

Of course he did as he was told and his hands sent shocks through your body. You moved his knee up, slowly grinding your clit against it. You bit your lip, letting out a little moan as he continued to palm your breasts. “I love you, sweet boy. I love you so much.”

“I love you more tha-'' before he could get the words completely out, you softly pressed your lips to his, nothing like the desperate kiss only minutes before. This time, it was tender, it was soft, but it also contained all the words you wanted to say.

I love you.

I’d do anything for you.

I’d kill for you.

I’d die for you.

As you pulled away, you gripped his hard cock and slowly lowered yourself onto him, promoting a loud moan from his lips. “Does this feel good, baby?”

His head tilted back, grabbing your thighs tightly enough to leave marks. You’d let him. If anyone was to see, it would only be further proof you owned each other. And the bruises around his neck would be proof you especially owned him. He could conceal them with magic, but he wouldn’t. During council meetings and social gatherings, he’d press against them so he could feel what you did to him the previous night.

Before he could get his answer out, you slowly started riding him, almost teasing him. In response, he fingers teased your nipples, twisting and rubbing them slowly. You reached his full length, and realized you probably weren’t going to keep your calmness for much longer.

You leaned your body completely against his, wrapping your arms around him and riding him with abandon. “You’re a fucking goddess- you’re - you’re everything I’ve ever wanted,” he breathlessly remarked.

His length completely filled you up, and as always, was stretching you out. Sometimes you thought you couldn’t handle it, but eventually you regained your control and pressed your hands around him, enveloping him to completion. You bounced back and forth on his dick, crying out in unison with him, already on the brink. You were pulsing against his thickness, but you didn’t want to cum just yet, if only to tell him not to.

“Goddess, can I?” At this point, his words were just sounds and you didn’t know if you could reply without moaning your words out.

“Can you what?” you let out.

“Can I cum?  Please?” The last word was just a plea, and you knew he’d do anything just to cum, to release inside of you and have you dripping with his cum.

“Yes, that’s what you want. You want me to cum against your cock and make me leak with your cum. Tell me that’s what you want,” you growled.

“Yes! That’s what I want!” he started, thrusting with you as if he couldn’t handle it anymore. “I want you fill you up, I want my cum all over your thighs, I want-”

“Cum for me!”

At those words, you both cried out as you slammed his shoulders onto the bed, bouncing up and down and taking both your orgasm and his.

The orgasm you had previously was nothing compared to this. You were all filled up, cumming against his cock without abandon. You could feel him shooting inside of you, you could see his hands ripping at the bedsheets as he moaned in pleasure, which only built the orgasm, stars exploding in your eyes.

You both were breathless, panting against each other's bodies. For a minute, you couldn’t move, the pleasure finally ebbing from your body, but then Loki was flipped on top of you, stroking his dark curls and kissing his forehead.

You could feel how tired he was, how tired you made him, and you commanded the collar back to your hand, locking it against his throat. “Thank you,” he said, biting his lip and looking into your eyes.

“I love you, my sweet boy.”

“I love you more than words could possibly say.”

[gumnut-logic]

Callisto (Part 8 - Recovery)

Prologue 1. Incident - Bit 1 | Bit 2 2. Fallout - Bit 1 | Bit 2 | Bit 3 3. Voyage - Bit 1 | Bit 2 | Bit 3 4. Arrival - Bit 1 | Bit 2 5. Orientation 6. Rescue Site 7. Investigation 8. Recovery

This one is over 4600 words to the point I considered cutting it in half. But lots happens so I’ve posted it whole. Now I just need to play catch up because I had a crappy couple of weeks and now I’m only about 500 words ahead of this. I have a few days off coming up, so wish me luck :D

As always, many thanks to the amazing @janetm74​ @scribbles97​ @tsarinatorment​ @vegetacide​ and science officer @onereyofstarlight​ You guys have helped me make this what it is. I so hope you are enjoying it.

For the first time in this story, I’ve slightly gone off plan and have had to add in a chapter because of it. Here’s hoping I can keep this going. We are now at 35,000 words which is approximately halfway.

Warnings: some whump.

Thank you for all your support with this fic. I doubt I could do it without all the cheerleading and support. You guys are just amazing ::hugs you so much::

Enjoy!

-o-o-o-

Jeff Tracy was a man of action and drive. Eight years in the depths of space had eroded the edges of his impatience, but hadn’t eliminated it.

So, sitting in Callisto Base watching his family work and not having anything much to do wasn’t in the best interests of his mental health.

But what could he do?

He had set up a kind of mobile control despite not being in control of anything. John had linked him into everything and he and Lee had pretty much taken over one of the command centres of the Base.

Grae hovered the entire time.

Jeff watched the well-oiled machine that was International Rescue with no small amount of pride. He watched them track down the lifesigns, survey the site, drill extra access, deploy Thunderbird Four and-

“Gordon!”

“Guys, get out of there! Now!”

The holographic image of the lake swelled and swept his sons away.

Jeff was on his feet without thinking.

Three of the five life signs on the strategy map darted erratically, one coming to an abrupt stop against the cavern wall, while the two others travelled some distance up the main tunnel before stopping suddenly.

“Thunderbird Five!”

“Please hold.”

Jeff’s eyes widened. “John!”

Data was suddenly thrown at his terminal. His sons’ vitals sprung up and he was relieved to find them all strong. A sitrep appeared a moment later tracking where the wave had come from, probabilities of a recurrence, a site safety scan and a feed from the Dragonfly Pod.

Its lights were still on, one shining at an angle across the tunnel it had landed in, the other reflected back a glare of white and a blue as beautiful as an Earth sky in the early evening.

The first one explained why.

One of the Dragonfly’s legs was sticking up out of a solidified white mass.

Of ice.

The math added up in his head very abruptly and he was suddenly moving.

It was a sign that Lee and he still had that unspoken communication as the engineer didn’t even ask and just moved with him, following his mad run to the hangar without a word.

Alan and Gordon had left the second Dragonfly pod at the Base and Jeff was ever so grateful.

“What’s…where are you going?” Grae’s eyes were wide as they all skidded to the side of the pod.

“Three of my sons are buried in ice. Where do you think I’m going?”

He didn’t bother to wait for an answer, climbing up into the cockpit with a leap of agility he hadn’t felt for years. With a nod from Lee, he snapped the hatch shut and grabbed controls he hadn’t used outside of a simulator in over a decade.

It was like returning home.

The Dragonfly took off for the airlock far above as the doors began their opening sequence without request.

-o-o-o-

John reacted the way he always reacted.

Without thought. There was no time for thought.

Hands moving across his console dragged as much information as he could from the static-fouled scans.

He blinked as the interference cleared somewhat.

A worried plea from his father John had no time for. A flick of his wrist and he mirrored his sources to his father’s terminal.

All three of his brothers had come to a halt. Gordon was still in the cavern, Four slammed up against a wall. Scott and Virgil were in the tunnel. Vital signs were still good, but there was no response from any of them.

No matter how much he yelled into comms.

One of the beacons had been swept away, causing the interference to intensify in that area, but the readings he had added up to a scenario that echoed past hell.

His father was already moving.

“John?” Alan’s voice was professional but sported an edge of terror.

“I’m coming down, Thunderbird Three.” He grabbed his helmet. “Dad is on his way out there. Do we have enough parts for a third Dragonfly?”

His brother’s voice solidified with the plan of action. “Yeah, Virg overcompensated as always. He packed stuff in as if he was planning to stay out here for a couple of years.”

John didn’t answer that. “Assemble another pod. I’ll see you down there asap.”

“FAB, Thunderbird Five.”

“Eos, align the Excel with the danger zone. Initiate elevator deployment.” He flung himself through his ‘bird. “I need as much information as you can give me. Relay on descent.”

“Yes, John. It appears that the water volume of the lake increased dramatically before the incident, but has now returned to its previous status.”

John slipped through the airlock to the elevator. He hit his comms. “Michael, there has been an incident. I am going down to the surface. You have the Excel.”

“FAB, Thunderbird Five. I will monitor.”

“Liaise with Eos.” He killed the connection as he entered the cockpit, his seat rotating towards him in welcome. “Eos, be nice.”

“I don’t like him.”

“Too bad. We need him.”

She grumbled in a way reminiscent of Virgil before coffee.

Maybe she had been taking notes.

He ignored it. “Send all information to my terminal here.” The elevator shuddered as it disengaged from Five and began its descent. The cockpit lit up with holograms.

He eyed the replay of the static-riddled scan as the lake swelled and overcame his brothers.

Four had been swept out of the water and washed ashore violently. Scott and Virgil, standing on that shore, hadn’t stood a chance.

One gloved hand reached up to poke the playback, pause and rewind. There had been a local seismic disturbance just before, epicentre to the north-east by a few hundred metres. Minor on an Earth scale, but since Callisto supposedly hadn’t had any major crustal movements in eons, it was unusual in the extreme.

“Eos, pull the Base seismic records. Have they detected anything like this before?”

The elevator’s thrusters fired as it hit the faint atmospheric boundary.

“Their system has recorded several incidents, but nothing of this magnitude.” Eos’ voice shifted to one of concern. “Incidents have been increasing recently. There have been three in the past month. John, one was recorded by the Base system the same day as the five members of their crew disappeared.”

“What? Why wasn’t that mentioned?”

“Unknown.”

He stared at the scan. “Do we have any source for more water to reach the lake?” It hurt his physics sensibilities. Water should not exist as a fluid in this environment at all.

“None within sensor range.”

Damnit. He was used to being able to see everything.

“Deploy a net of probes. I want everything in a ten thousand kilometre radius as crystal clear as you can get it.” If there was a pun in there, he refused to acknowledge it.

“Yes, John. That will cover the entire surface of the moon.”

“Exactly.” Something weird was happening here and he wanted to know what. If he had to throw everything Thunderbird Five had at it, he would.

The elevator thrusters fired again and the moon appeared around his windows, followed by the striking red of Three.

“Alan, are you ready?”

“Pod assembled, Thunderbird Five. Awaiting your orders.” There was no tremble in his brother’s voice, but there was an anxious impatience.

The elevator touched down with a soft thud. Eos’ control was perfect. “Thank you, Eos.”

“You are welcome, John.” A pause. “Be safe.”

His lips tightened a little. “FAB, Thunderbird Five.”

She didn’t answer as he stepped out onto the moon.

-o-o-o-

Alan didn’t remember his mother, but he had four brothers who did and he knew far too well the pain of what had happened when she was taken from them.

The fact that three of those brothers were now buried in the space-ice equivalent of an avalanche was absolutely terrifying.

The water had managed to travel some distance before solidifying and trapping everything. As far as Alan could tell, his brothers were encased in ice.

If they had been on Earth their lives would be in peril. In space, they were at least wearing their spacesuits. But spacesuits could be damaged.

He didn’t let himself follow that train of thought. He couldn’t afford it right now. Instead, he followed procedure.

That was what procedure was for.

It was a matter of minutes before John was stepping off the space elevator, his tall brother as confident and professional as ever.

Part of Alan was still surprised when John directed him to take control of the pod. Perhaps it was because Alan was used to the control freak habits of his two eldest brothers?

“Get us down there Alan.” John was distracted, glaring at his wrist projector.

He didn’t need to be told twice. With John secure in the backseat, Alan threw them down the gaping hole his ‘bird had dug, through the mole’s extension and into the dry cavern below.

The dragonfly latched onto the beacons and they darted down the correct tunnel, glittering rock streaking past them as their twin beams of bright light hit everything.

Including the mass of white that that suddenly swelled up on one side of the tunnel.

It wasn’t quite a wave, more a slosh of water, frozen in motion.

“What the hell?”

“Edge down the tunnel a little further, Scott is...” But they were already there and the flash of blue and red was obvious.

His eldest brother was embedded in the ice halfway up the wall. Alan only had breath as he yanked the dragonfly to an abrupt halt, her claws leaving gouges in the ice. “Scott!”

He was out of the pod as fast humanly possible.

One of his brother’s arms was dangling free and Alan reached for it. “Scott?”

Limp, gloved fingers.

John already had a hand laser out and the red of its beam was cutting ice in a loose silhouette of their brother’s body. As they worked him free, bits of ice fell away to the floor. It was fragmentary. Somewhere between solid and hard packed snow. The water had obviously frozen so quickly, it was aerated enough to stiffen fully.

Fortunately, because Alan had the sudden realisation that spacesuits or no, if his brothers couldn’t expand their ribcages, they couldn’t breathe regardless. The sudden relief sprouted new terror.

John helped Alan lower their big brother to the floor.

“Sc…Scott?”

For a second, Alan thought it was John speaking, but his astronaut brother answered, voice urgent. “Virgil?”

No response.

“Thunderbird Two, status!” John was moving, long legs leaping in the low gravity, propelling him back to the pod. He reached inside and pulled out a large torch. “Alan, attend to Scott.” And then his brother was running further down the tunnel, light bouncing ahead of him, holographic map hovering over his wrist.

A further spark of terror was smothered in Alan’s brain as he turned back to his prone and unconscious eldest brother and began chipping and melting ice to free him.

-o-o-o-

Virgil was lying flat on his back staring at white lit up by his helmet lights.

It took him a few solid minutes to realise exactly what he was looking at. His brain felt sluggish and was hurting like hell. He really needed more painkillers.

He automatically tried to calculate how long it was since his last dose and came up blank. There was time missing.

This realisation was quickly followed by the discovery that he wasn’t able to move.

God, his brain was slow. The first thought that came to mind was that yet another building had fallen on him. It happened far more often than he was willing to admit.

But then where was his exosuit?

He blinked slowly.

One arm was caught at an awkward angle and was protesting its position. His legs seemed to be splayed out evenly, though and his other arm seemed happy enough. Hell, there wasn’t really even much weight on him. He had definitely had worse.

But his chest was tight and breathing shallow. Something had him in its grip and he had to force down the visuals that came with that.

Not being able to move always sucked.

He really wished his head would stop hurting.

“Sc..Scott?” It was instinctual. In trouble, call for his big brother.

Need a hand.

“Virgil?” John’s voice. Johnny had the power to call Scotty, to get him help.

He opened his mouth to answer, but something shifted in the ice...ice...it was ice! Memories slammed into him of ice and snow and trapped and oh god...his sluggish brain couldn’t handle it.

“Thunderbird Two, status!”

John’s voice shook him.

Um, um…his heart was beating a mile a minute. He fought for control.

“Virgil? Son?”

Dad.

His father’s voice set off both relief and fear. Relief because of a deep-seated trust in his own father.

Fear because where was Scott? Scott should be here.

But Scott had been with him when the whatever had hit him.

Had hit him.

Water.

Space.

Callisto.

Sparkling crystal flickered in his mind’s eye.

“Scott?”

“Your brother is in good hands.”

Even his sluggish brain could see that as a non-answer. “Dad?”

“We’re digging you out.”

Oh.

As if to emphasize that statement there was a red flash and the world around him hissed. He closed his eyes as the light stabbed into his hurting head.

“Dad? Gordon?”

“Nearly there, son.”

Virgil’s heart clenched.

They uncovered his head first and Virgil teared up at the sight of his father’s worried expression above him. John was there as well, darting in and out of sight, obviously the source of the laser light.

“Johnny…”

There was a crack in the ice.

Ice.

His mind blanked in terror again.

Too many memories.

Far too many.

“Virgil! Look at me!” Dad’s voice held command and he had no choice but to obey. “You are safe.” His hand was being held and Virgil realised it had been cut from the ice. He tried to move his other arm, every heavy-lifting muscle he had straining against its restriction.

Another crack of stressed ice, a yelp from John and Virgil’s arm was suddenly free, ice fragments raining down on him.

Encouraged, he began working on his feet.

“Virgil, stay still just a moment longer.” John’s voice was strained.

Virgil wanted out.

“Virgil.” His Dad grabbed his flailing hand forced him to look at him, grey eyes reflecting the white ice. “Hold still, John is cutting you out.”

Yes, John was cutting him out. Red flickered amongst the white. Virgil swallowed and attempted to get the panic under control and found that he was trembling.

Damn.

He was a rescue operative. He should be calm.

The remaining weight on his belly was removed and he was finally able to take a deep breath.

It helped ever so much.

He closed his eyes and sought his centre.

And fell back on procedure.

If Scott was down, International Rescue was now his responsibility. He needed to be in control.

In control.

By the time John lifted the remaining ice off his legs, Virgil had found himself again. He clambered out of the ice as fast as he possibly could and shot to his feet.

And nearly fell flat on his face for the effort.

His father grabbed him and prevented his fall. “Virgil, sit down.”

There was a flicker of a medscanner, but Virgil was too busy assessing the situation to care. “Scott?”

“With Alan. Unconscious, but safe.”

“Gordon?”

“Still in the cave. Thunderbird Four is silent. I sent Lee. John is following him down.”

Damn. Virgil shook the last of the ice stuck to his uniform, straightened his baldric and took a step towards the direction of the cave, but was halted by a firm grip on his arm.

“You’re not going down there.”

Virgil spun on one foot and the world in all its glittering glory spun with him. “Gordon is down there.”

“John and Lee have him. You were buried in ice, Virgil.”

To his ultimate shame, Virgil shuddered at the concept.

But Gordon...

That grip on his arm tightened. “You’re coming with me.”

Virgil straightened, forcing steel into his spine. “With Scott unconscious, I am in command. I need to be down there.”

“No, you don’t.” His father took a step back up the tunnel, obviously intending to drag Virgil if he had to.

Virgil was no longer the scrappy kid who wanted to play with his paints instead of cleaning his room, and he stood fast.

His father had been in space a long time and his strength had paid the price.

There was no competition.

Buried in ice or not.

“Dad, I am going down to help with Gordon. Scott needs you. I’ll meet you up there the moment Gordon is safe.”

The need to be in two places at once, or more correctly four places, at least, was a common feeling Virgil had to ignore.

Gordon was the priority.

“I need an analysis of what happened. There was a wave. Why? See to Scott and Alan.” He reached up and gently peeled his father’s grip of his arm. “Thank you for helping me. Now I have to go help my brothers.” Turning he hit his comms, asked John for a sit rep and hurried down the tunnel.

He did not look back.

-o-o-o-

Scott had a headache.

That was the first hint of reality and not a new one in his life. He often woke with headaches, the only remaining question was what caused it this time.

“Hey, Scott, are you with us?”

Alan.

Several factors hit home at once. He was wearing his helmet, hence his uniform and Alan, only Alan, had said his name.

Mission.

He was sitting up before his brain had filled him in on the fact he was millions of miles away from home and gravity was a whole different thing on Callisto.

“Whoa!” Hands grabbed him. Hands that definitely belonged to Alan. The astronaut was crouched over him with worried eyes. “Take it easy. You might have a concussion.”

Head injury then.

“Mission status.”

“John’s gone after Gordon. Virgil is awake and out of the ice.”

Gordon. Gordon had been in the water. The weird water.

The very idea of Virgil being buried in ice again awoke horrors he did not want to face.

“Help me up.” Scott rolled himself over, ignoring the protests from his brother to stay put. His head protested very loudly and it became very apparent that the supposed head injury was not impressed with any movement.

Ow.

But, mission.

“Scott, what are you doing?” Another set of hands grabbed at him, which was probably a good thing because he was going down if they hadn’t. As it was, the whole world shifted as he was forcibly lowered to sit on the white, white ground again.

There was a flicker of yellow light and muttering from his youngest brother. “We need to get him back to base.” Alan’s voice was worried.

But Gordon. “I’ve got to go help Gordon.” He tried to stand up again, but too many hands held him down. His shoulders were grabbed and he found a pair of grey eyes staring at him. “Dad? Gordy is in danger.”

“I know son. John, Lee and Virgil will see to him.”

Virgil. He blinked. “Virgil was with me!” Again he struggled to get up.

His father held him down. “Virgil is very determined that he is fine. You, however, are not. You have a concussion. I will take you back to the Base and you will rest. Alan will help his brothers.”

“But-“

The hands on his shoulders squeezed. “Do I have to ask Virgil to reinforce that order?”

Virgil? Order? God, his head hurt.

But this was Dad. Dad knew what to do in space. Dad was...Dad was...

“Scott, you with me?”

He was shaken just a little and his head hated him for it. A groan and his hand encountered his helmet. Augh.

Space sucked.

“C’mon, Scotty, let’s get you into the pod.” Alan’s voice was gentle and professional. He was so proud of his little brother. “Yeah, well, I learnt from the best. Up you get.”

He was pulled slowly to his feet and he had to bite down or lose whatever the hell it was he had eaten last. There were steps and then he was sitting and familiar restraints were holding him in place.

He closed his eyes.

Gordon. He had to help Gordon.

“Your brothers will help him, Scott, you know that.”

But-

His world shook as the pod lifted. He glimpsed the back of his father’s helmet. Dad. Dad was driving. Dad had control.

He could let go.

-o-o-o-

Alan swallowed as their father launched the pod back down the tunnel, its headlights sparkling.

He had reported Scott’s status the moment they had the medscanner’s results and had received a very abrupt acknowledgement from Virgil.

It was unusual to have Virgil in command in space. It wasn’t his native environment and he didn’t venture into it very often. It, of course, wasn’t the first time, and Alan trusted Virgil with his life. But this was Alan’s turf, he needed to be there to help.

He leapt into the remaining dragonfly and dashed off down the tunnel.

It got tighter and tighter as he flew closer to the Crystal Cave, his access blocked by frozen lake water. For a moment he thought he was going to have to abandon the pod, but he was just able to squeeze through the entrance.

The lake was exactly as it had been. Calm and glittering in the pod’s headlamps. He turned slowly on the rocky beach to find Four, free of ice, jammed up against the wall beside the tunnel entrance. She was on her port side, cabin rammed into the rock.

Alan’s heart clenched as he set the dragonfly down.

Both John and Virgil along with Uncle Lee were attempting to gain access via the rear hatch. The ‘bird was made for water, but on the very rare occasion such as this, Brains had built space capable redundancies into her airlock.

How many submersibles in this universe were also space capsules in disguise?

But all this was redundant if the seals had been compromised.

A quick query of Thunderbird Five reassured Alan that Gordon’s vitals were still strong. There was still no response from their fish brother, but he was alive and relatively stable and Four reported no seal ruptures.

Yet.

Virgil grunted as the back of Four was slowly cranked open. Uncle Lee and his engineer brother were putting all their muscle into heaving the hatch open while John slipped into the vehicle.

A moment later the door was shoved shut again and Alan was surprised to see Virgil seal it with a hand laser.

Tired eyes caught Alan’s. His brother didn’t need to explain why he was doing what he was doing.

“Inner airlock door is now compromised.” John’s voice was calm and sure despite the subject matter. “Proceeding to the cockpit.”

Alan stared at Virgil a moment, caught by his haggard expression before hurrying around Four towards her belly viewports.

All he could see was Gordon’s feet. No matter how he shone his hand light through those windows, he could see nothing more. Gordon’s pilot’s seat obscured everything.

For it to be in that position it had to have been severed off its mountings.

Hell.

Determined, Alan scrambled around Four’s nose and tried to find her front viewports. Everything was obscured by rock.

Crystal glittered mockingly at him, an almost scarlet chunk of quartz sticking out of the wall and falling over as if it was reaching for Four.

Alan fought the urge to shove it away from his brother’s ‘bird.

“Cockpit hatch is non-operational. Eos, relay through my suit sensors and give me a detailed report on Gordon’s position.” John’s voice was ever so calm.

Alan wanted to scream.

He hurried back to the lower ports and stared at his brother’s feet.

Again Gordon had been crushed in his ‘bird. How hurt was he this time. How long would he take to recover?

Virgil spoke up and Alan was startled to find his engineer brother and Uncle Lee standing beside him. Virgil was standing ramrod straight. “Eos, can you pull any medical data?”

“Please hold.” The AI’s voice was crisp and professional. “Compensating for interference.”

Damned interference. Alan was so sick of static. Their comm lines and sensor feeds were usually perfect. What was it with this place?

A big hand gently wrapped around his arm.

“I’m fine, Virgil.”

The hand did not let go.

“Thank you, Eos.” How did John stay so calm? “Cutting into the cockpit now.”

Virgil’s wrist control lit up and projected the sensor data he had requested from Eos. True to this place, parts flickered and there was some pixilation, but a clear outline of both Gordon and John inside Four was all the reassurance it could be.

Gordon was curled up on the ‘floor’ of his ‘bird, on what had been Four’s portside viewports.

The laser cutter in John’s hand flared up brightly as he cut through the cockpit hatch mechanisms.

Red light flickered through the marine acrylic enough to catch on Alan’s uniform.

“His right arm is broken again.” Virgil sighed. “He’s going to be so pissed.”

“I’m in.” And John was. Light lit up the viewports, quickly followed by the yellow of a medscanner.

“Oh, thank god.” Beside him, Virgil visibly deflated in relief. The hologram lit up with Gordon’s full medical details. A red alarm hovered over one arm where the break snapped his right ulna and his head had an orange flag that pinpointed a likely concussion. But other than that, Gordon appeared whole and safe, his spacesuit undamaged and airtight. Alan’s shoulders dropped almost as much as Virgil’s.

“He’s safe to move, John.” No doubt John knew that, but Virgil obviously had a need to confirm it anyway. He had a habit of doing that. Alan wasn’t really sure who it was for, Virgil’s brothers or himself.

The next few moments involved cutting open the rear hatch of Four again. This time there was the hiss of escaping atmosphere as Virgil took the entire door off the sub, no longer needing to worry about Gordon’s suit integrity.

John emerged carefully carrying his unconscious brother, Gordon’s helmeted head limp on one shoulder, his arm in an emergency splint, no doubt from one of Four’s first aid packs.

“Vincent, I’m thinking you boys need to take your brother back to base.”

Alan suddenly realised they were a pod or two short to carry all of them. There were five operatives and only one pod.

Uncle Lee eyed Virgil, his lips thin. “Albert, you could fly George while Vincent, John and I dig out the other pod.”

Virgil shifted his feet as he translated that, and Alan frowned at him. His engineer brother was wrecked. Alan could see it in his eyes. Understandable

Virgil’s nod was firm, regardless. “FAB. Alan, you’re with Gordon. John, what is the impact of the interference on Eos’ capability to pilot the pod if necessary?”

Their space brother was looking down at Gordon’s face frowning. “Eos is deploying a moon-wide probe net. We can use them to strengthen the signal. I think that above ground, Thunderbird Five should be able to pilot reliably. I would not recommend attempting it underground.”

Virgil nodded again before striding over to Alan’s pod and, climbing up and throwing the hatch back, began reconfiguring the backseat to transport their injured brother.

Alan hurried over to help and within minutes, John had secured their unconscious aquanaut brother prone on his side in the back of the pod.

Silent, eyes closed, non-responsive.

Alan took off smoothly and with as much care as possible, flew back up the tunnel, heading above ground and back to Callisto Base.

His last glance at the Crystal Cave outlined the shapes of two brothers and an uncle standing ever so alone in a giant cavern that had tried to kill three of his brothers.

-o-o-o-

Next

[suganovakawa]

𝐒𝐀𝐔𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐄 .

PAIRINGS : tooru oikawa x fem! reader , platonic hajime iwaizumi x fem! reader

GENRE : angst , romance

WARNINGS : cursing , implied car accident , amnesia recovery

SYNOPSIS : tooru doesn’t understand how special you are to him until he comes close to losing you forever . as he struggles to comes to grips with his feelings and balance it with his future , you still have to recover from your own injuries , but without your memories to assist you .

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄 < [ 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐒𝐈𝐗 ] > 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍 .

your first day back at seijoh doesn’t seem so bad . . . but that boy at the window sure does pique your interest .

word count : 1.4k

saudade masterlist .

SAUDADE

( 𝐧 . ) a nostalgic longing to be near again to something or someone that is distant , or that has been loved and then lost ; “ the love that remains ”

⠀"hajime, was i always this... popular?"

⠀unsure of how to accept a bouquet of flowers from an unknown face as you and the only friend you could confide in walked through the halls of the vast school, your mind was only left to ponder aimlessly. did you always think this school to be so big? maybe it was because you had no recollection or memories of this place, that it seemed like a never ending corn maze.

⠀"well, word travels quickly, y/n. everyone here is worried about your safety. we're all glad you're back, safe and sound." you turned to the male walking beside you, his hands loosely stuffed in his pockets. that same gaze turned to the flower bouquet held tightly in the embrace of your arms, echoes of well wishes and greetings filling your ears as you struggled to find your classes. iwa was assigned to be your personal guide until you got the gist of the seijoh halls once more, and he made sure to make it crystal clear he was your go-to guide incase you needed some assistance with anything.

⠀"i feel guilty, not being able to remember anyone..." your voice hushed into a whisper, only loud enough for hajime to decipher. "everyone i've spoken to is so nice, i wish i could at least remember everyone's names to thank each of them properly." every time anyone reached your vicinity, hajime was the one who had to inform you of their name before they approached the two of you. you had to explain of your amnesic situation, to which each of them understood... to an extent.

⠀you'd always get a mix of emotions in reaction to such horrific news, depending on the person. many shown pity, while others attempted to empathetically understand your frustrations. a select few were skeptical upon first hearing the news, but there was nothing you could be lying about. amnesia wasn't something to be joking about; at least, you found no reason to joke about it. the way it erases your mind of your precious memories with those you love and cherish is cruel in its own right. you remember how distraught your parents were when you had no recollection of their faces. you believed them to be your family, as you assumed they had no reason to lie, but that was as far as credibility went.

⠀hajime was a tremendous help through it all, too. after his first meeting with you - when you awoke from your supposed coma, he brought in a large group of boys, around the same age as the two of you. though their names were a blur, the one thing that stuck out to you was when they each thanked you for being their volleyball team manager.

⠀the aoba johsai volleyball club team. that's who they were to you. could a team really be so tightly bonded they'd even visit a mere manager? the thought of it humbled you, and your heart felt fuzzy. you were able to smile genuinely once more, bringing joy to the boys' faces. though their visit wasn't that long, you were able to remake some friends, and maybe met new ones before returning to seijoh.

⠀you snapped out of your daze as you accidentally bumped shoulders with another student, flinching at the sudden contact. hajiime reacted to your movement by looking to see who you bumped into, but it was too late for him to speak up first.

⠀"watch where you're going, will you? damn." he snapped at you as his nasty glare stared you down, his posture slouched over and grumpy. even with an appearance as unique as his - bleached buzz cut, darkened eyelids, and two brown stripes on both sides of his head - no name came to mind. his intimidating aura worked on you all too well, and your mouth clamped down nervously, since it technically was your fault you hadn't paid attention to where you were walking.

⠀"kyoutani." there was a bark, to which both you and the strange male looked towards hajime, whose glare was darker than the other's. "don't talk to her like that. it's y/n."

⠀as if it was some sort of special cue, kyoutani's snarl lightened oh so slightly, his eyebrows arching upwards as he cleared his throat before looking at you once more. "oh, y/n." his voice lowered to a mumble, "sorry about that. glad to know you're back in one piece." in astonishment towards his abnormal attitude change, you weren't able to say anything in reply as he quickly shuffled past the two of you and disappeared down the hall.

⠀"who was that, hajime?" you were freaked out about how easily iwaizumi was able to change such a grumpy attitude with just a snap and your name. were you a sensitive topic to talk about amongst the students? sure, your accident was pretty bad, but it could've been a lot worse than memory loss, right? amnesia was probably the luckier gamble of the entire situation.

⠀unless if there was something else he hadn't informed you of already?

⠀"oh, don't mind him. he was part of the volleyball club team, too. he's just more on the... lone wolf side. he doesn't interact with us that much." he only shrugged at your curiosity. "he knows of what happened, and it's nice to know he has enough manners to wish you well."

⠀there were so many questions you wanted to ask him; the problem was, you didn't know where to start. there was that standing fear of overwhelming him with too many inquiries, too. just how much did hajime iwaizumi know? what doesn't he know? he seemed to be capable of informing you of everything that you'd need to know, but even if there was anything he was hiding under the surface, you would have no notion or clue as to what it was.

⠀and while you were eternally grateful for his presence and overwhelming kindness, your curiosity of rediscovering everything continuously poked at the back of your brain. maybe when you got back on your feet, stable enough to figure out things on your own, hajime would let up and see things for yourself. for now, you were content with him being at your beck and call - whether it be for better or worse.

⠀"we're here." you filled your lungs with a sharp inhale as hajime opened the door for you, reintroducing you to your first classroom of the day. seeing your nervousness, the brunet merely smiled comfortingly, placing a hand on your shoulder before looking to the others, who were trying to hide their curiosity in seeing you standing under the doorway. "there's no one you should be afraid of, y/n. you sit next to me anyway, so you'll be fine."

⠀"thank you, hajime." there was nothing to be afraid of, he was right. why were you hesitating? there was no need for that self inflicted worry.

⠀two empty desks stood side by side as majority of your classmates rose from their own to greet you the moment you stepped in. unfortunately for you, there were too many people reaching for you all at once, so hajime was a bit behind in naming all of them for you. as much as you tried and appreciated their concerns, all you really wanted to do was just sit down and let everything sink in. today was going to be a long day.

⠀"oikawa, are you not going to say anything to y/n?"

⠀oikawa?

⠀your head turned at the name, noticing how a small bunch crowded a single desk in the back of the room, their faces less than pleasant as they glared at the lone male sitting by the window. an uneasy knot grew in your stomach as you caught glimpses of the student; you ignored hajime repeatedly calling your name, instead focusing on the boy sitting in the back of the room.

⠀why was someone so attractive sitting all the way in the back like that? alone, no less?

⠀the male ignored every advance towards him, and the students who ganged up on him had no choice but to back away, grunting in their failure as they plopped down in their own desks. you, however, still felt strange. oikawa... there was no ring to it, just as everyone else's name was in aoba johsai.

⠀but you couldn't deny it, he was the one.

⠀and such a thought was solidified the moment he turned from the window to gaze into your eyes. it was only for a second, but that stare meant something; you could feel it.

⠀oikawa...

⠀the first one to see you when you woke up.

a / n : writers block hurts so much i deeply apologize for the absence 😭 i’ll def be updating more frequently now , don’t worry !! n don’t mind me crying over this chapter , casually crying as i write this on tooru’s birthday— happy birthday sweetie

saudade taglist : @ot127 @rena0921 @karlitabi-rrito @psychicpercyjacksonfan @crescentbitch @amelimiles @damnirina @pasta-warlord @blossomingbangtan @clinomanians @i-am-kinda-in-a-lot-of-fandoms @manq-fandoms @cirtruss @sugar-wara @haikoo @anime-simp @kairostatue @awkwardspontaneity @iwantapoptartqwq @aquariarose @softestdreamer @plantisnotplant @avylee @froppysgirl @that-animebitch @wisepandaslimeland @samanthaa-leanne @dumplingzumispam @0hakaashi @captain-janeway @afterglowkuroo @bellabelieveme @attixc @chickenrest @tycrackculture @ynjimenez @lissa-writes-and-does-matchups @lavieenblancetnoir @dabilove27 @cuddlesslut @crypto-s

taglist closed !

[soundsaboutrighttumblr]

WBL meta ep 4.

On lucky ones and fools for love, of which there might be not one, but two, each, on broken means of communication and bridges, hierarchies and equal footings in relationships. Started out as typing along each scene, but then one scene stole all the paragraphs, so I cut it a bit short in the end. So yes, kinda my stream of consciousness again.

 -          We are reminded: Shi De’s mails have always been unanswered, his messages, after 1 year approximately, stay even unread. Communication and its multitude of possible errors will be touched on… good.

-          We are told: Little baby Oscar is Shi De’s brother. Ashley probably his step sister that helped take care of Oscar while Shi De’s mom recovered. Shi De stayed, because of his mother’s health and problems in the company, to help out the people he loves, because they are his family, too. Besides Shu Yi. That made two months into two years.

The scene that stole all the paragraphs:

-          Moving light on concrete walls, bowls and symbols of present and enduring care and nourishment, a fresh morning, fresh eyes, new awakenings. Man, that scene is everything, not only because it is the scene where Shu Yi will realize imo that this man before him did not cheat on him, without anyone explicitly  having to address it. I love this scene already. Will there be fic? Possibly. First, watch me type through it like this, if you want:

-          They turn towards each other, like really facing each other. At eye level. Do I make myself clear, lol? They are both sober and rested and calm and are looking right at each other, in a safe space, with morning fresh eyes, eyes open once more after their night TM, a period of darkness, that might have stretched longer than this actual night. Yeah, I am feeling dramatic alright.

Boy do I love that Shi De just starts to speak. Apologizes sincerely, and for the thing that shows that successful communication actually can happen between those two, when they are together, that Shi De actually has listened to Shu Yi and his side and considered it and is aware of where his fault lies, to a degree.

He admits that he realized he didn’t believe in Shu Yi’s forever.

I understand the following lines as carrying the sentiment: Shi De always loved Shu Yi, but as he said to Dad, he wanted to be with him forever the moment he got together with him. Before that was his one sided love, a vague concept of love, but the dream to be together with Shu Yi was just that, a dream. One that became concrete and true, and that was the moment Shi De actually felt and decided he wants this forever.

It became a decision to commit, and the process of it becoming real for Shi De, a decision that reaches into his reality, it took ten years. So he was reluctant to believe that for Shu yi that process of reaching certainty could have happened much quicker. He only had his own love as reference, and used to carrying it all by himself, that standard made him question, if Shu Yi COULD be as certain as Shi de was, after arriving at his decision after 10 years, versus Shu Yi’s rather recent-feeling awakening.

– maybe Shu Yi loved you for longer, even if his knowledge of it was asleep, Shi De, you know he comprehends things in his sleep, we know that about him, right? Sorry side tracked –

Shi De realizes, and TELLS Shu Yi, I mean that scene, he just tells and talks, the marvel… sorry, Shi De realized he DID not believe Shu Yi’s devotion to be the equal to his, thought that Shu Yi was just swept off his feet by the moment, and then he realizes, that the fault for that lies in his own insecurities. And he says that. To Shu Yi. InternalYesScreaming.

-          Okay. The intricacies of miscommunication and manipulation. Dad’s arguments were received by Shi De with open ears, because they were thoughts and insecurities, he’d already had himself. The worry of being not good enough, of holding Shu Yi back. That’s why they work even if Shi De realizes he’s being manipulated by that entire put together scene.

-           And then Dad presented that broken phone, the symbol of broken communication and broken bridges between them, on a silver platter almost, I mean do you remember the way Dad orchestrated that meeting with the food and the waiter handing him the device on silent cue? It must have felt like things were truly broken beyond an immediate chance of repair.

-          BTW : Dad holding the cards, ahem, the phone, the means of communication between them in his hands? We will remember that later, right.

-          So yeah, the only chance Shi De saw to salvage anything of it, was in the future. So he gave himself those 5 years, to be worthy to stand next to Shu Yi.

-          I think that is about the time that Shu Yi realizes, finally allows himself to let it click, that this man never looked at anyone else but him. Like, that for Shi De, there is no one better on this planet than Shu Yi, there’s no arrogance that a cheating situation could have been born out of.

-         Also? He sees that Shi De actually has always perceived himself as inferior to Shu Yi, deep down, and/or is afraid Shu Yi might see him as such, which is a reversal and touch on their theme of who is No 1 and Mr. Second, see conclusion waaay down below in highlighted on this monster of a meta.

-          The power of it. For Shu Yi to be able to finally SEE Shi De and who he is enough again, that he can overcome his doubts. Without Shi De addressing the misunderstanding, but, and that is important, by Shi De TALKING. About himself, without pretense for strength. The misunderstanding is made nil by communication per se, not communication about it but by the essence of communication, of baring yourself to another, who listens, and understands.

-          Gah.

-          The way Shu Yi finally acts, when Shi De mentions someone better for Shu Yi. Like there would be someone. How he makes him face him again when Shi De starts to get lost in his own self-flagellating thoughts. Reminding him, this is not a monologue this is a dialogue, by making him face him again. So important, because that happens with them when they are in a room together. They can draw each other out of their heads and communicate.

-          Btw, there are wet spots of tears on both their pillows.

-          And yes, he puts it in words. That it is his call to choose Shi De, and decide to want to stay with him forever. Not Shi De’s for him, not Dad’s.

-          Stupid Gao Shi De. And that affectionate slap on his head. Because they will always be physical like that.

-          And there it is, the bracelet that was never gone, and what follows is a renewed wedding vows scene if I ever saw one, is humility and forgiveness and renewed promises on an equal footing. I think that scene deserves way more words, but I might put that in fic or another meta, this is getting ridiculously long. But I think the feels in this one are quite clear. But let me say this:

This episode poses the question who is the lucky one. Also, related to that, who is Mr. Second, and who is No 1? Is it who we thought it was? Or was it reversed, was Shi De the lucky one after all? OR was it the two of them from the start, two lucky ones, two fools for love? And finally: a sense of growth, away from the hierarchy and the illusion of No 1s and Mr. Seconds, of winners and losers in relationships:

You can be equal only through honesty and vulnerability and shared responsibility.

 -          Please let me know what you think the statue, the rabbit and the crystal ball symbolizes, knowing the show it might symbolize something, but I am lost here, lol. Is it a chinese character thing? Soundsalikes? Three syllables? Am i interpreting too much into it?

-          I actually will skip some scenes now, because I just want to mention the ones that tie into the topics I started on above, communication and bridges, because else this will break all limits lengthwise.

-          The scene where Bing Wei tells Shi De of the magnitude and depths of Shu Yi’s love. Once again solidifying, that it has always been Shi De’s love’s equal, devotion wise.That Shi De is the freaking lucky one, too.

-          The matter of the phone as the symbol. Shu Yi crying alone with the phone, the broken symbol of the broken communication between them, and then Dad taking that out of his hands.

-          How it ties into when they both realize at the same time, Dad’s involvement and interruption of their communication might have even started earlier, with blocking the emails from the start when they were apart. You lose sympathies in this ep again, dad, lol.

-          The scene on the bridge. BRIDGE. Yeah, besides that it has history for them, look what they do in that scene. They reconnect further, mend bridges, by their shared history in highlights, but also by levelling the ground between them, each admitting and being told that they both have been idiots in this for their own parts, laughing about it even with tears in their eyes. Teasing each other with it, but pulling each other closer over it, the teasing, careful, long unused steps around each other, but on a bridge between them that they revisit, that has been mended, that is secure again under their feet.

It’s the ground they can stand on, the ground they can and WILL use to talk about all that stuff, the bridge between them, their equal love.

-          Also, Shu Yi is eating in that scene, happily.

-          Oh man, I will end it here, because there’s just too much to say, and I will, in fic and more meta, let me know what you wanna talk about if you made it this far.

[5-falsehoods-phonated]

When Our Hands Next Meet

Series summary: Soulmates are given memories of their past lives when their hands touch. For Virgil and Logan, each memory is happier than the last.

This series was created for @analogicalweek and made in collaboration with the lovely @birdsongisland! Please go look at their beautifully detailed piece they made for this work and support them with reblogs so it can be seen!

Credit to birdsongisland for beta reading this and everything else this past week! One last thank you as this wouldn’t have been as polished without you ^-^

Chapter 7: I Remember

Chapter Summary: In a nostalgic museum of their own creation, Virgil feels as content as he ever has living out lifetime after lifetime with Logan.

Day 5 Prompt: Free Day

Warnings: none. If there are any please let me know!

WC: 1787

AO3 link

Taglist (ask to be added or removed): @ace-in-a-shopping-cart @janus-is-an-adorable-snek-boi @logans-library @im-an-anxious-wreck @edupunkn00b

“Which one did you like chickens in?”

Logan poked his head out of the kitchen window while being sure to hold the dish he was drying well away from the sill. “Chickens?”

“You liked chickens in one of our lives for some reason.” Virgil didn’t look up as his tongue poked out of his mouth in concentration- something that never failed to make Logan smile since according to him Virgil did that in every life. Blowing away the dust from the mistake he had sanded away he grabbed up the carving tool and started again, holding the figurine a little too close to his face to technically be safe but he was far past the point of caring. He held his breath as he dragged a smooth line across the dark stained surface. It was perfect. All he needed to do was drag it the other way and-

Groaning in frustration he threw his head back and squeezed his eyes shut, trying his best not to cry over something so stupid. It was a chicken- and a wooden one at that- no more deserving of tears than a child’s block tower being knocked over. But as the slight tremor in his hands continued to betray him as the years went by he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of frustration. There were so many things he wanted to do and create and as their lives went by it became harder and harder to keep up with it all; thankfully he was stubborn enough that it never kept him from trying.

Opening his eyes as a cool breeze swept past him he couldn’t help but smile at the early morning sky, full of the deep purples and blues that they had both favored since their souls first formed. Cool and calm and deep the colors blended together with a soft brilliance he admired every time he reached for the soulbond he and Logan shared. He hardly knew how to describe the way Logan filled his life to the brim with a happiness that made him feel safely rooted to the ground and flung him headlong into the clouds at the same time. A kind of breaking open of the chest while still feeling as if everything was securely nestled in their proper places. He supposed the way the colors swirled endlessly between the stars- brilliant galaxies forming and reshaping in picturesque moments that would be gone in an instant- maybe that came pretty close.

Grinning to himself he carefully gathered up his tools and his current work in progress, nudging the door open with his foot and stepping into the warm comfort of the living room. They had spent an entire lifetime making it their own, as they so often did when they finally found each other again. Often there wasn’t a day wasted when they became whole again to pick up right where they had left off in their previous life, collecting an eternity’s worth of memorabilia that no one could ever hope to understand but them. Setting down his armload on a side table he eased himself into a rocking chair situated by the window, the gentle movements a pleasant stim as he listened to Logan move around in the kitchen. 

He leaned his head back slowly to rest on the back of the chair, staring up at the dark stained bookshelves overflowing with all manor of things they had made or collected in the decades they had been together. The old but thankfully sturdy wood bowed under the weight of books either so old they were bound with leather and cracked at the seams or so new the pages were still visibly crisp from the printing press. There was one in particular bound tightly in soft brown leather with a bright green gem stuck in the center of it that neither of them had ever opened but had found and added to their collection nonetheless. Whatever it was, it fit the aesthetic so neither of them could complain. 

Tilting his head to the side he watched as Logan bustled around the kitchen getting their morning dose of coffee set up, refracted light from various forms of open geodes glittering around him and making his glow in the room. They had become veritable hoarders in this lifetime, though Virgil suspected they always did, collecting everything from crystals that matched their colors perfectly to pond skipping rocks that had felt too perfect in their hands to ever give up to the water. Their vast collection of seashells littered nearly every surface as well with a suncatcher made from them hanging in the large window overlooking their yard. He nearly laughed as he caught sight of it, a wooden flute he had carved hanging with it as well reminiscent of Logan’s hippie phase he had yet to let him live down. He had justified it by saying it was just another thing to remember their time together with, but mostly he just loved the playful eye roll he would get every time Logn caught sight of it.

 Of course the better caving he had made for him was on the shelf behind him, nearly life size wooden ice skates that Virgil had made with as much care poured over them as he could muster. He remembered making and  presenting them to his best friend after one of his competitions- they’re fingers brushing and a thousand and one memories cementing their souls together once again. Since then their house had slowly filled with blocks of wood molded to the memories they gained of an eternity spent together. Several small blocks were shoved in the spaces they could fit, depicting all the constellations Logan had told him about when they would go out in a field or lay on the roof of one of their houses and talk the night away. There were so many animal figurines they could likely make a replica of a zoo- if of course that zoo featured mostly horses, cats and various other farm animals they swapped stories of when a memory struck them. He already knew where he was going to fit the chicken, he just needed his hands to cooperate long enough to get the feathers right.

Looking back down he scowled at the stubborn piece of wood for having the audacity to not simply shape itself the way he envisioned. Chickens, as it turned out, were hard enough to get right in the first place, what with Logan seeing them being plump fluffy things meant to be pet and cuddled. Virgil, on the other hand, saw nothing but mini dinosaurs that had to be smaller just to spite him with their sharp beaks being ankle height. He had seen what the tiny terrors could do with their beaks and talons, beady eyes zeroing in on a target and having little to no regard for what it was, so long as it reacted to being chased and pecked at. But Logan had loved them and still held them in fond regard even if he no longer worked on a farm, so Virgil had wanted to solidify the past life with his tools just as he did all the others. He’dthank his hands for not allowing him to finish it if he wasn’t so sure it would make Logan’s face brighten with the smile Virgil lived and breathed to see.

His chin was taken gently and tilted so that he was looking at his husband, that smile Virgil had fallen for time and time again gracing his lips as he ironically tucked a sprig of forget-me-nots behind his ear. Their house was full of them, dried and paired with lavender and tucked into nearly every feasible space they could. The dusty scent of their favorite flowers mixed with the wide variety of candles strewn about on spare surfaces, a collection of scents they had discovered reminded them of different places and times spent together. A gentle flick at his bottom lip returned him to the present, the smile now a smirk as Logan tapped his nose.

“I cannot fathom why you are attempting to carve a chicken if you despise them enough to nearly combust a replica with a glare.”

“You like chickens and I like you. So you’re getting a chicken.” Virgil rolled his eyes at the teasing, clenching his hands into fists in his lap. “I just need my useless hands to cooperate with me or I would have had it done ages ago. I can never keep up with everything I’ve done in the past.”

Virgil huffed and smiled ruefully up at the other who looked to be considering something. Before he could ask him for his thoughts however he was pulled carefully to his feet, his rough hands held tightly in dry slender fingers. Rubbing his thumbs over the back of them Logan brought one of his hands to his lips to place a gentle kiss to his knuckles, doing the same to the other even as Virgil blushed profusely and was pulled into a soft embrace. 

“I love and appreciate your talents and passion, making our memories real to remind us of the happiness we shared in the past.” Logan’s breath tickled his ear as he rested his chin on his shoulder, Virgil burying his face in the crook of his neck to hide his ever deepening blush. “I love your hands as they are, whether you find them useful or not. They’re there for me to hold and kiss and that’s use enough for me.”

“Logan-”

“You’ve made so many things that we’ve loved unconditionally throughout our lives. But it was never about our past or future, it’s just us.” Logan moved away to place his hands on his cheeks instead, steady gaze radiating warmth and comfort. “I love you. I always have and I always will- and I certainly don’t need you carving a quote ‘diet dinosaur’ to know that you feel the same.”

Virgil snorted and leaned forward to rest his forehead on Logan’s, simply taking in the quiet as they stood in each other’s embrace. To love and be loved by someone across multiple lifetimes was something he cherished above everything else, the lines of fate tracing forwards and backwards to weave them together again and again. He realized as he stood there, surrounded by a nostalgic museum meant only for them and lit with the soft glow of the early morning sun warming them further, that there truly was no one else for him. He leaned against soulmate and smiled, thinking through everything that had happened in the past and everything that would happen in the future, he had Logan.

And that was enough.

Previous   

[wannabeauthorclive]

[Image ID: Dark blue banner of the ocean with four pirate ships saying “Over Land and Sea” with “Camp NaNo WIP Update” underneath. End ID]

I have been really bad at giving updates about how nano is going for me. I said I would do one of these every Sunday, that failed. I’m only doing this one because I finished!! I did it! I hit my goal!!

Project — Over Land and Sea

End Goal — 30,000 words

Daily Goal — 1,000 words

Total written — 30,162 words

Overall Notes — I’m absolutely loving this project and how it’s coming along! It has been difficult juggling all my characters, by it’s a struggle I am willing to do. I also made Desmond a protag (along with Black and Silver) cause I love him too much not to, and it fits the story. I was able to reach my daily goal almost every day and I’m really proud of that! Some days were definitely harder than others, but that’s ok, it’s all part of the journey. I’m changing a lot from my initial outline so I’m glad I kept it in a way that I could change it if I wanted. 

Thank you every single one of you -- I don’t think I could have made it this far without you. You’re all wonderful friends and are so so supportive and I love you! Thank you!

~~~ Four of my favorite scenes under the cut! ~~~

Desmond’s POV

He looks over at Captain Black, still a good fifty feet away, and sends her a wicked, wicked smile. For a split second, he could see the panic in her eyes before it’s gone again, wiped away and leaving the Captain Black everyone knows and either hates or loves. She shoots him a wicked grin of her own and his smile falters before returning full force. This will be fun.

He would go and greet her halfway, but alas, he must stay in-between the crew and the ship. She walks right up behind her crew and moves to stand in front of them defensibly. Her posture never sways and her face never softens as she stares at Desmond. Part of him thinks she’s staring into his soul, which is impossible. Impossible.

“We haven’t gotten the chance to properly introduce ourselves.” Desmond starts, holding out his hand. Captain Black doesn’t take it, doesn’t even glance at it. He withdraws his hand, nodding in acceptance of the refusal. “I am Desmond Ponsa.”

Captain Black’s crew’s eyes go even wider while Captain Black herself just snarls. “I know exactly who you are, Ponsa.”

Silver Sterling’s POV 

The newspaper. That’s how she found out about Black in the first place, no letters from her or Desmond, and certainly no espionage agent. Could the press be able to track pirate better than a chase could? Someone who has seen the Queen of the Seas lately would sure to report it for good money, and people pay good money for information. But if she tracked Viras’s press, she’d have to catch Captain Black before she moved on. Would Silver be fast enough?

She straightens in the tub, her relaxed posture fully gone. Maybe if she was already moving, maybe if she could find where the Captain would probably stop for supplies. It’d be a wild goose chase, trying to find a pirate. It’s a wild goose chase trying to find someone who has roots, but a pirate? It’s nearly impossible.

That’s what she loves doing, though. The impossible. Proving people were wrong to say she couldn’t do something. That’s what she has been told her whole life. “You can’t do that.” “Only men are able to do that.” “Berian women don’t do that, it doesn’t fit with society.”

And every single one of those things people told her she couldn’t do, she did. That’s one reason why she loved her sister, she didn’t even ask if she could do something or not. She just did them and by the time people could tell her she couldn’t do that, she had already gone and done it.

“The impossible is only impossible to those who are afraid.” Her sisters voice whispers in her ear. That was her motto, said before every risky thing they did. And the words solidified Silver’s idea further.

Captain Black’s POV (TW: mental health problems, serious anxiety)

“No, no, no. No.” Black repeats, her voice quavering but leaving no room for argument. Leaving the wheel, not seeing her crew, not watching for the National Guard, not commanding her ship would be sure to send her into a panic attack. If her anxiety is getting to hard for her to captain her ship properly, she shouldn’t be here at all.

But whatever happens, she’s not gonna let her anxiety and memory blackouts take control over her and dictate wether she is capable of captaining her ship. She’s gonna find a way to put an end to all of it before it gets to that point. Black won’t risk the safety of her crew but she won’t give up being captain unless she is fully incapable. And that’s not gonna be any time soon.

“Black!” Black jerks out of her stupor. “Black, god, you can’t do that.” Ironside whispers, relief and worry and scared blanketing her tone. “You’re here one moment and not the next and something has to change. We can’t be in battle and that happening.” She says forcefully.

This is why Black loves Ironside, she doesn’t step around anything. Straight to the point. Black doesn’t respond, she just keeps staring out over the sea. Waiting for the National Guard give a surprise attack on this bright and cloud-free, sunny day.

Ironside sighs. Her friend’s mind is breaking. It has been for a long while, this is the first time any of them noticed it though. She glances behind her at the faces of the crew, gathered around to see if their captain, friend, and family is alright. A spike of guilt hits her, she should have seen it. But none of them did and now, now Black is paying the price.

It’s like Black’s sanity is slipping out of her fingers like sand and it’s so hard to watch. So, so hard. But she has to, it may be the only way she can help.

Captain Black’s POV (TW: violence, death)

A quick second is all it takes for Black to notice the pistol aimed at Lakoma’s head. A quick second for Black to realize that blood is gonna be split. Not their blood, not if Black can help it. And by God, she can help it. She isn’t losing anyone today. A borderline wicked smile replaces her grin and with a flick of a wrist, two daggers are in her hands.

She sees the panic in her crew’s eyes as the entire Viras Treasury surrounds them. Too many people. They’ve never fought this many before. “Keep going!” She screams at them. She has. She’s fought this many people.

Another flick of the wrist and the dagger is flying through the air. It finds its target in the belly of  the same guard with his pistol aimed at Lakoma and another dagger is flying. Another dagger, another guard down.

Tons of weapons can be hidden among the folds of her dress and Black is ever grateful for her weapons. Two more daggers come out, two more daggers hit their mark. One in a throat, one in an eye.

Out of the corner of her eye, Braveheart is beating down one after another soldier, Lakoma is throwing daggers faster than Black can see while gun shots ring out from Tonya.

If only Captain Black had her Cutlass sword, this would all be much easier. She is unstoppable with her sword, no one can get out of her way. But alas, her sword is a size too big to fit in her dress.

A moment in her head and a guard was able to get too close. He throws his weight into his rapier to slice her — obviously not well trained, rapiers are stabbing weapons, not slashing ones — and she quickly ducks under him. With a swift kick to the balls, his rapier is now hers and she demonstrates how you really use a rapier. A stab though the gut. Or heart, but she goes at the gut. The pain lasts longer.

Taglist: @baguettethebooklover @a-completely-normal-writer @mel-writes-with-her-dragons @hysteriwah @tiredlittleoldme @the-writing-avocado @vellichor-virgo @radiomacbeth @wildwrites @crowewritesstuff @crystallized-ink​ @strangerays​ @47crayons @ladywithalamp (ask to be +/-)

[rinharu-purple]

Relationship Goals: Ch 15

Flows of tears being wiped away by the fingertips of love- dreamless night skies full of stars - a heavy heart washed clean by the rain - hot sweat and cold droplets of water-  a simple “good night” and a “good morning” - that all too well known scent - the excruciating pain of yet another “goodbye”- a blood drenched jacket that’s long lost its owner’s warmth...Name of Faith 

Being the solidifying chapter of my Gavin stanness, chapter 15 has a very special place in my heart. On the other hand, the whole chapter is the very embodiment of “relationship goals”, ensuring that in the MLQC universe MC and Gavin’s relationship is the most harmonious, mature and loving one. The chapter is about an hour-ish long so you could guess how long this analysis will take to read but it surely will be much less than it took me writing it, I promise ;)

At the end of chapter 14 MC had to say goodbye to Kiro without knowing if he would survive the fight against tens of BS men and carry the burden of being the key individual who can put an end to the out of control EVOL outrage. She was heartbroken about Lucien’s betrayal and was worried as hell about Victor’s whereabouts. She was still struggling under the overbearing weight of having to play the role of the “Queen” all the while being one of the last remaining people who still bear to think about the whole TV- tower incident. She’s found herself doubting the meaning of her existence and couldn’t help but feel as though she wouldn’t belong there. At the beginning of Ch 15  we find an MC that hit the rock bottom and is therefore deeply depressed. This is the first time she’s shown such a distressed psyché. So this is how the chapter starts...MC wakes up in her room after being hospitalized for a while, lost in thoughts and looking for reassurance in the gingko leaf bracelet on her wrist.

To have and to hold...

While she is buried in negative thoughts Gavin shows up at her place to give her the good news that there are no more signs of EVOL fluctuations and that STF’s investigation ends as of that day. This results in a real smile blossoming on MC’s face and then her concern switches to Gavin’s well-being. This first dialogue between them is already an embodiment of the foundation of their relationship. Gavin and MC’s main concern is always the well-being of the other. Sure, Gavin and MC always put others before themselves so they both have an altruistic character, however if protecting any other person would mean their s/o getting hurt, then they prioritize each other. We get to see what it means in the second half of the chapter. MC is worried about Gavin’s injuries, Gavin is worried about MC’s emotional state, MC is worried that she makes Gavin worry about her, Gavin is worried that MC worries about him worrying about her, thus keeping her real thoughts inside- not- opening up about them to him. That’s a vicious cycle which needs to be broken and that is exactly what our best boi does by reassuring her that she doesn’t need to put up a front and that she could tell him whatever is eating at her...anytime at all. That guy is already 3 steps ahead of her when it comes to worrying so he pulls her out of her self-agonizing overthinking bubble with those simple words which work like a charm. MC feels as though her heart was slowly lifted up by two hands out of a ravine. So she finally tears down the walls surrounding her agony and lets her tears flow and Gavin wipe them away and he brings the sunshine back into her heart.

Ever since her father’s passing MC didn’t much have anyone to open up to about her most bothering concerns or a shoulder to cry on. Gavin sees this crystal clear and encourages her to tell him about it all, cry it all out and also manages to lift her spirits up. He knows instinctively what she needs at that moment. She is broken, she is lost and she is stripped of her self-worth. Gavin can relate to this state all too well, because he too has been there when his mother died. He knows that she doesn’t need any encouraging talks or sweets or a scientific explanation to her feelings. At that moment, all she needs is warmth and a safe space to process what she is going through thoroughly. Which is why Gavin simply offers her to share what’s eating at her with him and cry all she wants. He doesn’t do anything beyond that. He NEVER EVER PUSHES HER TO DO ANYTHING! He just stays by her side in silence, giving her space...a warm space and the rest unravels from itself.  GOAL #1 Find someone who can feel your troubles, address them with care and share your burden with you. Someone who gives you a safe space to feel down without feeling ashamed of yourself. Someone who makes what’s yours theirs. 

For better, for worse... 

Gavin is aware of the fact that his words can give her comfort, but he also knows that she hasn’t told him the whole story yet. She needs to feel self-worthy again and go back to her true, kind and brave self. So he arranges a Ferris wheel ride in the middle of the night to show her the bright side that she fails to see at the moment. If MC had been asleep then he would’ve just tried another night but much to his luck she was standing on her balcony, lost in her thoughts, gazing at the bracelet he gave her and confiding in it. So he sweeps her off her feet once again and takes her to the construction site. He shows her from the cabin the world she succeeded in saving and that the world which is still turning thanks to her. She is the savior and not the burden and most certainly not a burden to Gavin. Neither with her negative feelings nor with her presence. She belongs there where she is and Gavin appreciates her existence. Because she didn’t only save the world but also him, many times, she caught him while he was falling. However, MC believes that its always been Gavin who was always there to catch her from falling. Their feelings and thoughts are again mirroring each other. Both of them are invested equally in their journey together, both have saved the other. Hearing this, MC finally opens up about her true feelings and lets the tears flow, and those tears are again wiped away by Gavin. When the wheel reaches its zenith, MC and Gavin are in a tight embrace and MC is finally almost back to her usual self: “With it, he took all my tears, all the unsaid words, all my worries and regrets. At that moment, it felt like the walls around my heart had fallen, letting in countless rays of sun. All the unease, suffering, doubt, pain and hesitation just evaporated”. Once they get off the wheel and they run/fly hand in hand under the summer rain, MC feels like Gavin has always been by her side all over the past years and her heart’s worry and gloom is washed away by the rain. This is a very crucial thing for their relationship, because they were separated for six whole years and yet now MC feels like he were always by her side, watching her from afar, accompanying her in her journey. 

On a side note, Ferris wheel and the gingko bracelet have become the main symbols of their relationship. The bracelet represents their bond with each other regardless of the distance separating them and I am certain that the bracelet doesn't have any tracker on it to be honest but it helps MC to cool down when feeling upset or sad by reminding her of Gavin, her precious moments with him, his love for her, and that he will always be there for her. The Ferris wheel on the other hand is their journey. Each time they ride the Ferris wheel together their spirits are lifted up alongside with the cabin. Once it reaches its zenith they consummate their love for each other once again, no matter if it's on a date with a kiss or in CH 15 when MC tells Gavin her true feelings and Gavin addresses them directly resulting of them reciprocating their importance for each other. GOAL #2: A relationship is much like a Ferris Wheel. It goes up, it goes down, then goes up again. It's not always a bed of roses, there are many thorns during the ride. The important thing is to go through both phases hand in hand. 

This whole episode names Gavin as the source of MC’s sense of safety, courage and faith. MC feels herself the safest and most serene around him. Their night together at MC’s home is a strong evidence to this. Up to CH 15 and in the following episodes, MC has constant nightmares almost every night.  But when she sees the faint ray of light from the crack of her bedroom door, she finally enjoys a night’s sleep without nightmares or worries. Knowing that Gavin is on the other side of her door gives her the deepest sense of peace. This happens again in CH 26 btw. and I think the original idea was for them to sleep in the same bed in CH 15 but then abandoned due to obvious reasons... As far as I know Gavin is the only LI who sleeps in MC’s apartment so it shows the level of trust she has towards him. No matter what’s happening during the dates, in the mean story MC is not canonically that close with any of the guys, so it truly shows how safe she feels around Gavin, knowing that he wouldn’t overstep his boundaries. And she couldn’t be more correct, since Gavin leaves before she wakes up, making sure that none of them feel awkward in the morning and leaving the place as he found it, but not before leaving a note which gives her a reassurance that he is going to send somebody to keep an eye on her and ends with a simple “good morning”. Gavin is a very considerate guy, who doesn’t miss any hint thrown at him. After hearing MC not being able to sleep without wishing him good night, he realizes how important this simple wish is for her. So he makes sure to wish her a good morning, whether he is there to say it face to face or not. GOAL #3: Be with someone, with whom you can fell safe and be yourself around them. Someone whose presence chases your fears and nightmares away . Someone who knows what your values are and respects them.

In sickness and in health...

Not long after having a heart to heart conversation, MC and Gavin find themselves in a dispute over Perry. MC wants to stay by Perry’s side with the hopes of being able to help him but also come closer to the truth about her father. Gavin is not happy with the idea since he’s lost his EVOL and is dubious about Leto’s intentions so if any danger were to strike, he might not be able to protect MC. Despite this he agrees with MC’s wish in terms of her not putting herself in danger and that he would stay by her side. The second time the topic comes up, Gavin outright forbids her to get involved with Perry and MC in return, for the first time ever, tells him that she is going to do otherwise. This dispute arises because Gavin doesn’t tell her full story, that he’s lost his EVOL and that the STF is executing the Evolvers. MC on the other hand fails to see the situation from Gavin’s perspective or to trust him when he is so strict about keeping out of the whole ordeal. But right before they temporarily part ways she finds the courage to ask him about his worries and troubles, since she too can feel his distress, much like Gavin did hers at the beginning of the episode and offers to share his burden with him and that’s the thing. MC isn’t upset that Gavin doesn’t want her to see Perry anymore but that Gavin isn’t open with her and that he is still keeping his problems to himself. MC was hoping that he would trust her to face the truth and take on everything with him. That’s what actually hurts her the most. And Gavin is lost in this unexpected argument since he’d never had a situation like this with MC so he is torn between telling her the truth or leaving it be. Unfortunately he decides to just leave their dispute at that and leaves, not willing to have a fight with her. So they give each other the good old silence therapy for days and only after Perry reminded MC of Gavin’s good-will that she finally sends him an SMS (but only at second try, she wouldn’t send the first SMS in which she tells him that she is worried about him). Gavin is not  better either, since he is already at the hospital to check on her from afar, but is not ready to face her yet. Its a typical “earlier in the relationship dispute” so much so that MC even literally sleeps with her phone while waiting for Gavin’s text/ call/ any response at all. Even I am shocked by his level of stubbornness at this point.  The next day MC receives the bad news about Perry and leaves the hospital, letting herself get soaked in the rain. This time around without Gavin by her side, with completely different feelings, thinking that the rain can’t wash everything away. This is a pivotal realization on MC’s end, because at that very moment she realizes that Gavin was the reason of her being able to overcome her worries and face her troubles with faith and courage. Luckily for her, right when she was thinking of him, she senses his scent behind her aaaand cue “Rosy Mirror”...

Its such a lovely moment for the maturity of their relationship, despite them still getting to know each other and being the youngsters they are. So MC apologizes to him (but only going through the reasons why in her head so Gavin only hears that she is sorry) and then Gavin finally opens up, since he has realized that was the mistake on his part, not telling her about his true worries. So without further ado he tells her about his insecurities about the possibility of not being able to protect her since their downfall from the TV tower, about him losing his Evol, about following her for a while from behind without knowing what to do. And that’s pretty much all it takes for them to overcome their dispute, since it was a relatively small dispute and so MC again fells warm and dry inside, not caring about the rain. GOAL #4 There are disputes in all relationships. What’s important during those disputes is not to hurt each other’s feelings irreparably and communicate in honesty. It’s about trusting in each other’s good intentions and resolving the problem in hand with care and understanding. 

Till death do us part...

Our pair makes up and are ready for the next move but there are no happy endings in the MLQC universe...nö nö nö. Of course drama ensues as MC and Gavin find out that Perry has been kidnapped while MC’s precognitions start getting worse. But remember folks, Gav-babe is back so he calms her that as long as her precognitions are about the future, they can still change the course of events and that He trusts in her, so she also should put her trust in him too.  “That was his absolute faith in me, and his absolute reassurance for me”. We could actually roll the credits here without going further with the heart wrenching end of this chapter. 

Not long after though MC and Gavin has to face the worst of the worst...They have to witness Perry getting shot in the chest and leave him in his state, only to be greeted by the STF aiming at them by the exit of the warehouse, leading Gavin to resign from the STF. While on the run from the STF/NW, Gavin realizes that his Evol becomes extremely weak, so much so that he cannot even raise a barrier to hold back the bullets, which then results in MC getting shot on the back while trying to protect him. Not only MC’s precognition is coming true, but also Gavin is at his limit, both physically and mentally. So he is left with no choice, but to sacrifice himself and once again get separated from MC. For Gavin is Ch 15 is the worst-case scenario. The justice he has always believed in turned out to be a façade, he had to witness another child’s suffering in front of him and his raison d’être comes to the brink of losing her life because he failed to protect her. Everything that keeps him alive, everything that makes him who he is , is shattered right in front of his eyes. MC doesn’t have it any better as she can only watch as her worst nightmare comes true. The last 15-20 minutes of this chapter covers MC’s perpetual fear of being left by Gavin. She says thrice that she doesn’t want him to leave and begs him to stay (unfortunately Gavin doesn’t hear any of it). The have just built their faith in each other and yet got separated again after a brief moment of togetherness. IT becomes one of the issues that MC struggles with for at least 10 chapters, namely her fear of being left alone by Gavin.  

Here is a small comparison: All other LIs relationship with MC are doomed because of their choices: Kiro’s alternate personalities as Key (no time) and Helios (no love), Lucien’s involvement as Ares in BS or his values contradicting that of MCs, Victor’s pride and dominance as the research topic for my Phd at Boston College. Those guys actions and personalities conflicting with that of MCs are whats standing on the way of a harmonious relationship. With Gavin, these two are doomed by the seemingly endless external threats. Both Gavin and MC are constantly the main target of somebody’s plans and are under attack. Those poor babies cannot have a second of peace. As if it wasn’t enough, those parties constantly use their bond for their own means. Its Shaw using MC as a bait to provoke Gavin, its Josie telling MC that she is going to kill Gavin, its Gavin’s father using MC to convince Gavin to accept the NW plan. MC and Gavin don’t have any obstacles with regards to their own personalities or choices. They trust each other, stand by each other, understand each other’s perspective and love each other. In this chapter Elex even shows us that they could even take care of a child together for God’s sake. They...just...fit...

Unfortunately once again things unwind to their demise and Gavin, once again, has to leave MC for her sake. Before leaving her, Gavin repairs the gingko leaf bracelet brand new, so that MC can find the reassurance she seeks for on it in his absence and remind her that he will return to her side. He also leaves his jacket behind so that she can still feel his warmth. That’s his promise to her. That’s his reassurance that this is not a goodbye and that he is not ever going to leave without saying goodbye.  GOAL 5# True love is selfless, true love never dies and if two souls belong together, then nothing can keep them apart. because true love prevails. 

The chapter ends as its started. MC wakes up in her room after being hospitalized for a while, lost in her thoughts and finding reassurance in the gingko leaf bracelet on her wrist. The only difference this time around is that she wouldn’t find Gavin in her living room or hear three knocks on the door and find him standing tall in front of her... for this time around Gavin is gone...

[theatresweetheart]

55. True Love kiss with Prinxiety? Pretty please!!

A Curse and a Promise

Warnings: Swearing, kissing, anxious thoughts, anxious feelings, self-deprecation. 

Pairings: Romantic Prinxiety, Background Romantic Logicality

Characters: Roman, Virgil, Logan, Patton, Thomas (mentioned briefly but not present), Morgana (Original Character)

Word Count: 3859 words

                                        ——————————

The Imagination could be a dangerous place, he knew that. It could be whimsical and bright and exciting, but it had monsters and magic too. And with monsters and magic came curses.

It was a place where anything could be lurking around a corner or behind a group of trees, just waiting to pounce and catch the prince off guard.

It wasn’t an easy feat to do, but it certainly wasn’t impossible.

Roman loved the Imagination more than almost anything, but right now he would love nothing more than to get out of it.

The unconscious and limp form of Virgil in his arms was the leading reason. Sinking out would have been Roman’s first choice of action, but he knew how that negatively affected Virgil when he was awake, risking it while he was comatose was not an attractive idea. What if it caused him physical pain, instead of just nausea?‌ What if it pushed Virgil further out of their reach and kept him knocked out for God knows how much longer?

If he was being completely honest, he wasn’t entirely sure what had happened. He remembered vague bits and pieces of it. Roman was almost positive it was because he heard Virgil yelp and immediately shifted into his own version of fight or flight. And it was most certainly fight.

The icy blue eyes flashed through his mind’s eyes and he shook it off. Getting back to the door that led to the Mindscape was the most important thing. He needed to get them both out of here. He needed to get Virgil out of here. Roman could handle a curse or two dished out by the creatures in here—most tellingly the Dragon Witch (or the Dragon Bitch as Virgil had “lovingly” called her.) He was creativity, he could deal with that sort of thing as this was his realm. His world. Something he had grown up in.

Virgil was anxiety, and Roman had no idea how a curse would affect him.

Would he wake up eventually?‌ Heal?‌ Forget what happened?‌ Remember everything?‌

There were so many questions. Most of them may remain unanswered for as long as Virgil remained unresponsive.

Roman ducked under one of the lower hanging branches before dipping around a cluster of trees as best as he could with an unconscious Side tucked in his arms. The only reassurance that Roman had right now was that Virgil was breathing, and he was still physical and solid and real to the touch. He didn’t think a simple curse from the Imagination could do away with an aspect of Thomas’s personality, but it was hard to say as nothing like that had ever happened before.

And by God, he hoped they didn’t find out today.

In front of him, a few klicks away, a crimson red door came into view and Roman let out a relieved noise. His bedroom and the Mindscape were just beyond that door. Patton and Logan were beyond that door. And they could help, because Roman needed help. Truthfully, he didn’t know what to do. Having the embodiment of anxiety down and out for the count probably wasn’t a good thing. He only hoped that everything was running smoothly.

If they were lucky, the curse would only last as far as the corners of the Imagination and as soon as he stepped through the door, Virgil’s eyes would flutter open and he’d be totally fine.

It was wishful thinking, but one could hope.

Roman was only ten steps from the door itself, when he froze in his spot. The sounds of laughter echoed around him and he subconsciously held Virgil’s head closer to his chest, watching silently as the Dragon‌‌ Witch’s form manifested from seemingly nowhere and blocked their exit out.

“Now, now, Your Highness,”‌ she teased, dark red lipstick stretching over her lips as she smiled. It wasn’t a warm smile; it was thin, and displayed her fangs. “Where are you running off to?”

“Move,” Roman demanded, eyes hard and glinting dangerously. “I‌ will not warn you again.”

“Goodness,” she giggled, flicking her hair from her eyes, the raven black curls spilling over her shoulder like a waterfall. Two long, twisting horns sat perched on the top of her head like a crown.“You take one swing at the prince’s boy-toy and all of a sudden we’re no longer playing games.”

Roman grit his teeth. He took in an unsteady breath. “Morgana, move.”

“Ooh,” her voice sounded surprised, yet her features conveyed no such emotion. She stayed smug and uncaring. Morgana examined her nails, as if that was the most important thing to her. “We’re on a first name basis now, I see.” Her ice blue eyes flickered up to meet Roman’s dark hazels, that only seemed to darken more the longer she stalled. “If it makes you feel any better, Roman darling, I wasn’t aiming for him.”

Roman felt something crack in his chest. Even though he had already known that, it cut deep having her solidify that notion.

“Roman move!”‌

“What?”

“I’m not kidding, fucking move!”

He shook the thought off, Virgil’s tempest tongue fading into a recent memory. His eyes flickered briefly down to Virgil’s face. For a moment, Roman swore he saw his eyelashes flutter. The hope was crushed seconds after, when a soft gust of wind from just behind him shifted them just as much.

“I‌ was aiming for you,” she continued after a moment, as if Roman didn’t know that. “Of course, your Knight in Shining Armour there had to jump in and shove you out of the way. That self-sacrificing attitude certainly didn’t get him very far, did it? It’s a shame really, Anxiety had such potential.”

Those words shoved a knife of ice into Roman’s stomach and it twisted. Unease made bile raise in the back of his throat. “What?” His voice was just above a whisper.

“It’s a curse, Sweetheart,”‌ Morgana sneered, showing off those sharp pearly whites again, great wings spreading behind her. Almost framing her head like an angelic glow from behind. “What happens when someone gets cursed?”

“There’s a time limit,” Roman said, but it was more to himself. It was a bitter realization. “If we don’t wake him up soon—”

“—he won’t wake at all.”‌ The Dragon Witch sing-songed, looking all-too pleased with herself. “And then, gosh!‌ It would be far too late.”

Roman shook his head. No, they couldn’t lose Virgil. Not after everything they’d been through and not like this.

“You’ve gone too far,” he said after a moment, forcing his emotions down and turning to face the woman herself. He watched as Morgana stepped out of the way, though not much farther than that.

“Too far?”‌ Morgana mimicked, as if she didn’t believe what she was hearing. It wasn’t that ridiculous a notion.

“Yes!” Roman’s voice came suddenly. It was passionate and powerful. Sharp as a knife. “You can do whatever you want to me, fine. I‌ don’t care what you do to me, but Virgil doesn’t deserve this. You do not get to toy with him.”

Morgana’s eyes blew wide for just a moment, allowing Roman a clear view of her surprise before it was quickly swept away and replaced with that same smug smirk.

“I’d say I’m offended, but I’m really not,” she said, folding her arms together, her eyes scanning over his person. “Anyhow, time is ticking. If you want to save him, I would recommend moving faster than that.”

This was not over. Not in the least. Roman was going to give the Dragon Witch exactly what she deserved, however, that would have to wait. He had more important matters on his hands.

Readjusting Virgil so his head was higher up and laying against Roman’s shoulder, he made sure his arms were secure under his knees and back before moving forward. His eyes only met Morgana’s once, and he could see those blue pools flickering back at him, looking amused. As if this was some game to her.

The bitch.

Roman nudged the door open before stepping inside and immediately shutting it behind him. It took him no energy at all to lock it.

He let out an another unsteady breath and his eyes flickered down to Virgil once more, hoping against all hope that he would get to see those liquid brown eyes blinking open and meeting his own. He was welcomed with the same sight since this all happened.

Roman burst through his bedroom door, making a beeline down toward the living room. He could hear Patton and Logan talking about something or other.

Whatever it was, it wasn’t important.

While almost tripping down the stairs, his eyes flickered between the both of them as they looked back at him with different levels of surprise and alarm.

“I need help.”

—

“I don’t know why you wanted me to come with you,” Virgil pushed a branch out of his face, ducking under it as he followed Roman’s path through the woods and away from the door leading to the Mindscape. “Pretty sure anxiety and imagination don’t go well together.”

“Have no fear, my Dark and Stormy Knight,” Roman had said back to him, glancing Virgil over his shoulder. “You have me to guide you, and with such a stoic and trustworthy leader, you’ll be absolutely fine.”

“If you refer to yourself as a ‘stoic and trustworthy leader’ again, I’m going to vomit.”

Roman snorted. “Are you afraid of getting lost?”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Can’t say it didn’t cross my mind, but it’s not what I’m actively worried about.”

“Well,” Roman paused walking for just a moment, allowing Virgil to fall into place beside him. Without another moment of hesitation, he grabbed Virgil by the hand and interlaced their fingers. “Now you won’t have to worry about getting lost, period. Come, we have more to see!”

Virgil could hardly process the fact that Roman had just grabbed his hand before he was being led further into the forest. He would admit, the Imagination had it’s charms. The green was crisp and colourful. Ponds they would pass were full of fish and the water was crystal clear.

Roman was talking to him. He was using his free hand to gesture widely, happily chattering about something or other. And it was endearing.

Though, something was stopping Virgil from enjoying this moment. He could feel the hair on the back of his neck tingling, as if they were being watched by something. Apparently, this feeling was going completely unnoticed by the prince who kept parading ahead as if nothing was wrong.

Virgil stopped walking after spotting movement in his peripherals. His eyes followed it to the trees ahead of them. Roman paused as well, his hand still linked with the other’s. He turned to look over his shoulder, but instead of meeting the other’s eyes, he noticed Virgil scanning in front of them. He looked as if he was on high alert, which could mean a few different things.

Roman released his hand, reaching to his side and drew his sword. It wasn’t that there weren’t things actively seeking them out just to toy with them. One creature in particular easily came to mind. “What did you see?”

Virgil stiffened. “I don’t know.”

Roman stepped a bit more forward, eyes scanning the trees now as well, looking for something that could be a threat. Just waiting for one of them to slip up and make a wrong move.

A form appeared in the corner of Virgil’s eye and he followed it to see a slender silhouette in the shadows of the trees. Their hands raised and something sparking at their fingertips. For a moment, it didn’t register what was happening, but whatever magic was in that creature, it was aimed directly for—

“Roman move!”

The prince twisted on his heel, watching Anxiety beginning to get antsier. “What?”

A voice hissed something—that sounded vaguely like a swear—from the side and Virgil pushed himself forward, acting on instinct. “I’m not kidding, fucking move!”

A shoulder slammed into his own and it sent Roman to the ground, the wind being knocked out of his lungs and his sword skittering a few inches from his hand. A‌ loud yelp of anguish was the first thing he registered, before the sound of a body hitting the ground was the last.

His head spun as he raised himself up onto his elbows. Roman turned instantly from his new position and saw Virgil crumpled on the ground, laying completely still. A stab of worry immediately hit him hard and he crawled forward, nudging the anxious Side onto his back.

“Virgil!”

—

Roman had been pacing since he’d put Virgil down in his bed.

They’d laid Virgil in his own room for an hour hoping that his room’s energy would wake him up. It had had the opposite effect that had been hoping for and Logan had been the first to notice that his room only made the eye shadow under his eyes darker.

Virgil’s fair skin was pale against the royal red sheets around him. He looked peaceful, oddly enough. The most peaceful Roman had seen him in a long time. He could see the smattering of freckles dotting his skin. Imperfect, but flawless and soft.

Roman’s hands moved to brush through his hair for the umpteenth time before resting on the nape of his neck, almost unsure of what else to do with them at this point.

Patton was sat beside Virgil, watching the anxious Side with a careful gaze, but his eyes would flicker up to Roman, watching him sadly as he paced constantly. Back and forth, trying to wring out that nervous energy.

“We’ll wake him up,” Patton told him after a minute more of Roman’s helpless pacing, “and everything will be back to normal.”

“But what if it isn’t?” Roman stopped moving for the first time since he’d settled Virgil down, his back toward Patton as he faced the door leading into the Imagination. “What if we run out of time and we lose him forever? Patton, I’d never get to tell him.”

Patton’s features softened further and he pushed himself up into a stand. He grabbed Roman by the hands before leading the creative Side back to the chair he had just been in and guided him down into it. Roman tried to resist for only a moment, before relaxing into it just enough.

“He’d never know,” the words just fell past his lips without his permission and Patton sat on the edge of the bed, his hands still holding Roman’s.

“He’ll wake up.” Patton squeezed his hands and Roman raised his eyes, but there was that worry deeply rooted in the dark hazels. “Don’t you worry. Virge wouldn’t want us to just accept it, would he?”

Roman shook his head with a soft, wet laugh. “No,” he said after a moment. He could already hear Virgil calling him an idiot, if only he’d actually say it. Roman had never wished to hear that teasingly insulting and sarcastic voice call him a name more than he did now. It would bring back that sense of normalcy.

But Virgil remained quiet and still.

The sound of the door opening behind him made Roman swivel in his seat and Patton just raised his head.

“Roman, you said it was a curse right?” Logan shut the door behind him, a glass of water in hand before setting it on the bedside table next to Virgil.

Roman nodded. Of course it was a curse. The damned witch had told him that to his face.

“How do you usually break a curse?” Logan continued, trying to get the other two to catch on.

It took a moment, but the realization dawned on both he and Patton at the same time, though, both of their of reactions were completely different. Roman shot out of the chair, pushing his hands through his hair again.

“A kiss!” Patton exclaimed, his eyes flickering between Roman and Virgil exclusively, certainly not making a point.

“Exactly,” Logan said, his attention turning up to Roman as he took his empty spot in the chair. “As cliche and unorthodox as it is, a kiss of true love could very possibly be our only option.”

A kiss of true love.

It was so painfully obvious. Of course it was. Of course it was something like that. Of fucking course it was a kiss.

“Roman?”‌ Patton’s voice was soft behind him, and he turned to glance over his shoulder at the other two. “It’s worth a shot, isn’t it?”

It made sense. To at least give it a try, because who knew?‌ Maybe it would work. Virgil would wake up and push him out of his personal space. He’d be back to normal and they could go back to a normal way of life and move on as if this had never happened.

Roman took a moment and steadied his breath.

“It’s worth a shot,” he told himself, just under his breath.

He turned on his heel and approached the bedside before he could second-guess himself.

Though, he hesitated. At first, Roman wasn’t sure why. Kneeling down to the side of the bed, he just took a moment and examined what he saw in front of him.

He saw porcelain skin, dark eyelashes, smudges of eye-shadow under tired eyes.

He took another breath, reaching forward and took Virgil’s hand in his own. It was cool to the touch and their fingers didn’t interlace. It didn’t feel the same way it did back in the Imagination. He swallowed back his nerves and hovered a little closer to Anxiety. So close in fact, that Roman could see the smattering of pale freckles that dotted the bridge of Virgil’s nose like a galaxy. His eyes flickered down to his lips– they were parted slightly, a soft inhale and exhale of breath. The only telling sign that he was still breathing, alongside the gentle and steady rise and fall of his chest.

Roman leaned down just enough that they were just a breath away from meeting lips—he heard Patton take in a small breath—and he hesitated.

Not because of the soft squeak, but because this wouldn’t be right.

“I can’t do it,” Roman whispered, more to himself (and maybe partially to the unconscious Side just a breath away from him) than to the rest of the room. He pulled back finally, eyes never leaving Virgil’s features. When he was awake, those same features were angular and sharp, but here, he looked soft. “I‌ can’t do it to him.”

“…what?”

Roman turned to face Logan, finally breaking his silent staring contest. “I‌ can’t. You know how he feels about the idea of being kissed without consent. Especially when unconscious, true loves kiss or not. It wouldn’t be right to go against his wishes.”

Even that being said, there was no such thing as true loves kiss between him and Virgil, because why would there be? Virgil didn’t love him, simple as that. Suffering through an unrequited admiration was difficult and not leaning down and connecting their lips as harder.

But it wouldn’t be fair.

Roman knew exactly where Virgil stood with this exact thing and going against that would be hurtful.

He cleared his throat, trying to dislodge the lump that had found its way there. “We’ll just have to find another way.”

There had to be other ways.

Before anything more could happen, Logan was speaking. “Is it ever specified that a true loves kiss has to be on the mouth?”

Roman paused, shoulders stiffening. In just a moment, he ran through everything he’d ever watched, read, listened to. He wasn’t just the creative and fanciful Side. Everything that he skimmed through and it never mentioned that a kiss had to be on the lips. Just because Disney movies and other fairy tales depicted the prince waking the princess with a kiss on the lips didn’t mean that it had to be like that in this case. It was never specified what kind of kiss or where it was on the body.

As long as it was out of true love.

He turned back to face Virgil. Seeing him so silent was still unnerving. Virgil was never silent. At least, not completely. But this, this was a whole new level of eerie and unsettling. And heart wrenching.

Roman took a breath, trying to steady his beating heart. He reached up ever so gently with his free hand, as he hadn’t let Virgil’s go, and brushed his dark bangs away from his forehead.

Oh god, please let this work.

He leaned forward, and this time when he heard Patton make a soft noise, he didn’t hesitate. He pressed his lips against the smooth, cool skin that had been hidden away under Anxiety’s bangs. His stomach did a flip at the contact before he pulled away.

Roman’s eyes immediately went down to see if Virgil was stirring. 

But nothing happened.

“I knew it,” he whispered, feeling that bitter bite of failure rising in his chest. “I knew I wouldn’t be able to wake him up.”

“Roman that’s not fair—”

“It’s true though, isn’t it?” He cut Patton off, dark eyes brimming with tears, blurring the world over. “I‌ spend years tormenting him, years.‌‌‌ And now– now just because we can see eye-to-eye on some things, I‌ hope I’m the one that wakes him up?”

His hand tightened subconsciously on Virgil’s, and he shook his head with a breathless huff of laughter.

“Just because I‌ love him, that doesn’t mean anything.” Roman ran his free hand through his hair, pushing down the emotions nipping at him. “It has to go two ways. That’s how it works. It doesn’t mean anything if it’s unrequited.”

“…then you really are an oblivious idiot,”‌ a familiar voice croaked from beside him.

Roman felt his hand being squeezed back and he blinked, turning immediately to meet Virgil’s eyes, who was blinking blearily back at him. Roman used his free hand to wipe at the water that had escaped down his cheeks. He turned to face the other Side fully, giving him his complete attention.

The fact that Virgil was looking at him because he had woken him up made his throat tighten.

“Virgil–” his name was just a breath on his mouth.

“Save the chit-chat, Princey,” Virgil waved off the oncoming apology as if he could have seen it a mile away, “you’re good, don’t fret.”

Roman swallowed thickly, trying to clear the lump that had formed. “Do you…?”

“Obviously,” Virgil answered the unasked question. He pushed up from his spot on the bed, sitting up and letting his eyes rove over the red comforter in front of him. His eyes met Roman’s once more. “Or I’m pretty sure I’d be still be out cold.”

Roman surged forward, wrapping Anxiety into a tight embrace all the while ignoring the startled noise he’d gotten from the other. After a second of surprise, he felt Virgil wrap his arms back around him, stroking a hand up his back as Roman buried his face into Virgil’s shoulder, hiding it in the bunches of soft fabric.

“You’re fine, Ro, really,”‌ Virgil’s voice reverberated through his chest, and Roman’s hands tightened in his hoodie. “It’s okay.”

And it was for once.

[thevoilinauttheory]

Paper Heart

[ FFxivWrite2021 Prompt 19: Extra Credit ]

[ Content Warnings: accidental harm to a loved one ]

[ Maximiloix learning magic, something something title lol - Earth - Water - Fire - Lightning - Wind - Ice ]

==

Maximiloix had received the scolding of his life once Caromont was able to drag him to a safer location, the fires he had used to bring down the Amalj'aa structure were now in his husband’s voice. Had he been any less of a Spoken race, one might have seen those long ears droop with regret. After that, it was the silent treatment all the way back to Ul’dah - which was enough time for Caromont to calm down enough to apologize for the blow up, and then absolutely *stress* how important it was to… 1) control himself, which he already had a feeling wouldn’t be heard; and 2) not to enrage the native beastmen of each area… which he had successfully done so far.

Once some much needed rest was taken, it was back on the road towards Coerthas, with a stop in the Shroud. ...And once again, Caromont had to really drive home how important it was to *not* disrupt this part of Eorzea. The roads that they took through the woods were winding, with little tread on them, leaving much to be discovered by those brave enough to take a step off the path. Maximiloix *would* have been one of those people, if he didn’t have Caromont to keep him in line, having gotten distracted by every piece of new flora or ruins that just barely scraped the surface of the dirt.

“Alright, Maxie - we are stepping into Sylph territory. I have a feeling you will get along well with them, but please… be mindful? The Elementals will not tolerate what you have been doing thus far, and you have been acting recklessly in believing you are invincible.” “Ehh… wouldn’t say I *believe* I’m invincible. Only that I feel it.” “Still.” Caromont let out a soft sigh, scratching his neck. He was beginning to wonder if this path was the one he wished to lead him down - delving into magical realms. There wasn’t much he could do *now*, knowing how Maximiloix had already taken a liking to using it where he could; he’d likely just finish the rest on his own if he was denied. Though visions and readings of a future solidified by magic told him to continue, that it would be worth it. “Be respectful, please?” “Aye, aye, I will. Y’ve made it clear. Promise I won’t cause no trouble.” He hummed as he watched the leaves above them while they walked, flickering with the gentle breeze. “What element’s this one anyways? Seems like wind’s a fittin’ one.” “You would think, would you not? No, it is lightning here. The Sylph’s pray to their god, Ramuh. Hm… If you think back to when I was talking about the stars - do you remember?” “The constellations?” “Mhm. If the Balance were lightning aspected, that could be the closest representation to Ramuh. He is a being of judgment, and is not known to be unkind - but He will strike down those He finds unworthy. While I do not believe we will have the… ah, “pleasure” of meeting Him as we did with Leviathan, it is still a lesson to keep in mind. Do *not* present yourself as a threat… for the love of everything, do not.” “When have I ever!” Caromont stared at him for an uncomfortably long amount of time, causing him to shake his hands dismissively. “Alright, alright - don’t worry.”

They reached the deepest parts of the forest with little trouble, the Sylph’s all too glad to play pranks on the one susceptible to them - which had Maximiloix covered in dirt, leaves, and water before long. He flopped on the purple tinged grass, staring up at like colored leaves and twisting branches, lights of unknown plants illuminating the region’s unmarked areas. “Ooch… I know y’said I’d get a long with ‘em, but gods… think they coulda used less thorns?” Maximiloix pried burr from his arm and flicked it off to the side to prove his point. Caromont chuckled softly, sitting down beside his complaining husband to help take care of the rest of the burrs. “So what’s th’lightnin’ ‘bout?” “Lightning is an Astral element used mostly for harm - keeping your enemy at bay by halting their movements with electrical pulses. Or, if you are just learning, creating a minor inconvenience like that of a static shock.” He laughed. “It can be combined with the Fire and Ice elements to create powerful - and highly dangerous - spells. For me, it is a somewhat strange mystery that combining these elements together… negate having an aspect altogether. Regardless. If you cast a Thunder spell on an assailant, you may feel the jolt of electricity yourself - if you have your stave at the ready, you can then turn that aether back into another lightning aspected spell.” “Seems useful ‘nough, jus’ like th’others, honestly.”

Caromont stood back up after having inserted the small lightning crystal within Maximiloix’s lance, offering him a hand to stand as well as his weapon back. “And just to make certain that you do not cause any more trouble… your focus will be on me.” “Eh? I can’t attack ya’!” He only got a smile in response. “Do you not trust me? I am fully capable of taking care of myself.” “Mmhh…” Maximiloix groaned in disapproval, though still stanced himself for combat. Though when Caromont beckoned him to begin, he only let out a heavy sigh and hung his head. “Why do you hesitate, my sun and sky?” “What if I hurt ya’!” “Well, you certainly should not if you focus on a much smaller spell for once!” “What if y’don’t cast a shield in time, ‘r reflect it, ‘r dodge it, ‘r whatever!” “Then I will be twitchy for about a minute. *Assuming*--” “Yeah, yeah… stickin’ t’a smaller spell.” Caromont smiled, beckoning him again.

Maximiloix let out another sigh, taking his stance once again. He closed his eyes, feeling the static through the humidity of the deepwoods; it tingled in his arms, down to his fingertips - his hair truly stood on edge, every bit of it. He didn’t want to focus too much, to keep in mind what warnings he was given… but something about that feeling was hard to control, hard to say no to. A pull, a magnet to power. The shivers of shocks made their way down his legs, into his toes, grounded by the earth beneath him - it pulsed through his veins to the beat of the wind, and shot through his palm and lance almost unexpectedly. It was sudden, how fast the spell expelled itself from his body when the charge had hit its limit… and it certainly wasn’t as small as he wanted it to be, as small as he was focusing on it to be. He was thankful, at the very least, that Caromont had been watching the spell - and how much time it was taking to cast. It warned him to prepare for a burst of aether, to which he did. He threw out a shield of bright starlight, which fizzled away at the impact of the lightning; it absorbed the brunt of the force, leaving him on the ground with singed robes and hair - staring at the sky blankly.

“Caro!” Maximiloix tripped over his own feet to rush to his husband’s side, immediately looking for signs of life - he was given one when Caromont managed to cough a few times. “I said a *small* spell, Maxie.” “I- I tried! I swear! I dunno what happened, it was so fast--” “Calm down… I am fine. Ugh… you are lucky that I was able to see it happening. What… happened, exactly?” “I.. I dunno, I was jus’ focusin’ on somethin’ small - like what we did fer the earth spells. Then it jus’... kept growin’. I couldn’t pull m’hand away, it was stuck there until it couldn’t no more.” “I see… well, let us have you avoid lightning aspected spells until we figure out the machinations behind the outcome, alright?” “Y- Yeah… y’-” “I am fine, Maxie, I promise. Just a little burnt on the edges, but that is how you like your bread, is it not?” He laughed as he sat up, only earning a pout from Maximiloix. “Caro. That ain’t funny.”

[pernatius]

Lost in Space Part 12: Ch 2

Previous 

Summary: The fate of the universe will be decided in the final five chapters.

Lost in Space on Tumblr

Lost in Space on ao3

Two pieces. Two halves dropped to what was once an empty, white floor. A golden pool of their blood spilled out from the gash and rippled as my watery eyes met with it. I stepped away, stomach-churning, seeing One’s added reflection. The Lord’s ring and middle fingers pressed against the cigarette and raised it to where their lips should be. Somehow the Lord sucked in its toxic chemicals. A greyish ball spun inside their eye, then seeped out and blew away with a smile. 

Something is vibrating from the tension. As I am slowly realizing, those are the tendons from what I thought I killed seconds ago. They’re reconnecting, twisting, and pulling the halves back together. I take a step back. I take another when the revitalized corpse pounces. Its blood seeps back into its body. After a deep-throated cough, the Watcher looks up at me with dirty yellow eyes. The fragments of my sword spun around my arm one moment, and the next, they’re lunging at the ominously silent Watcher who’s sprinting, seemingly teleporting from left to right, without losing eye contact. 

Both their whips reappear in their hands and come zipping through the air and at me. I outmaneuver both and am about to respond with a heated ball of rich, golden light, but they vanish. 

Looking around the room, I try to sense where the Watcher went. I try focusing to the best of my abilities, but to no avail. So, I wasn’t able to stop the knee to the face, and both straps of electric currents tightly looped around my body, electrocuting and spinning me about as they slid off my frame. 

Above me, the reminiscence of the guard’s commander is charging their hand. It glows. Rays shone between their fingers, but my focus turned elsewhere. One mouths that I have thirty seconds left. Looking up at the opposing figure, I tell them, “This isn’t the end, and I’m sorry about that. I wish I could’ve done better than me that brought you here.” 

The blazing light disappears from their lowering hand. “I can’t forgive you because I won’t forget.”

“I understand. I don’t think I could either. I am the monster.” Two hands charged, I release a massive energy blast that finally puts to rest the still Watcher. Two summons a shield that absorbs the explosion before it could hit One and Five. The Lord struggled a bit, arms shook, and they were pushed back as they fought to best the roaming energy. When they do, the Lord looks at me with a mix of interest and respect as the both of us are exhausted, I am a lot more so, but it marked the end of my one-on-one fight. The outnumbered fight continued on with the return of hundreds wanting to blast my limbs off, hundreds more wanting to tire me more out with hand-to-hand combat, and eight of them hoping to slit my throat with a solidified, sharpened aura. 

I survive it all not because I’m a fighter but because of this cheapened state. So, I don’t take pride in what I’ve done. But I don’t feel disgusted either. With each blink, I can still see and hear them. They’re crawling onto me, piling up, covering the light, pushing me deeper into the emptiness beneath, and moaning in agony. The flames of my gleaming light envelop us, killing not only them but my emotions as well. My vision, too, apparently, because I can see a familiar red-headed figure lifting me up from my collapsed state. She looked like an angel with how the light circled around her edges, softening it too. The blinding, heavenly sight brings me to push myself once again as I reach out towards her. Resting my trembling hand on my love’s face, wiping the tears with my numb thumb, brings her to rest her other hand above mine. It’s warm, unlike mine. For me, it’s only been minutes since the last time we touched, but for her, it’s been years. Her eyes are baggy, and wrinkles are prominent. There’s a thick, white strand of hair at the center of her synthetic red hair. Most associate the color with seduction, but I switch it with blue’s symbolism. It brings me sorrow and tears in my eyes because I left her alone in this confusing place we call the universe for far too long. 

Instead of me forcing out an apology, it’s her letting her heart out, “I’m sorry for everything.” She then proceeds to hug me. It hurts, but not because I have hardly any strength left. Instead, I’m in pain because I love her so much. 

One dismisses their cigarette as they get up from their throne. “A minute off.” 

Raising a single finger, they shoot, and I try creating a shield before her. Something sparks in front of her, but it poofs out of existence. I’m far too weak to do anything but cling onto Ashley, who’s looking confidently directly at the spinning light. I shut my eyes, and with the ringing, loud resonant sound that followed after, I reopened them to see a large blue shield between us and the attack. Turning my head back, I see Saamuki with a rich blue coat, brown boots, and a red sash to tie it all together. Her arms are raised, holding up her makeshift shield. On her ring finger is a ring sparkling because of the blue light. Two Tauvoxes, one a long-time friend and the other a prisoner the last time I saw him, are on either side of her. Like Saamuki, and now that I notice Ashley too, Mikrovos is wearing Quadrant Forty’s fifth battalion uniform and has a prosthetic horn. He also has a ring on, which has me crack a smile. The four of them aren’t the only ones here. Sakhra, Bichak, and that leafy, fearsome giant from the fallen Zeq’s town are here too, with the same clothing as well. Syco is not matching. He’s also the least clean, having scuff marks and untamed hair. An odd reunion, but a welcome one. 

“So, this is where you’ve been. I knew it would take a lot more than that to kill you,” the musty Tauvox professed smugly. 

The smaller Tauvox rolls his eyes before replying with, “We can do the whole ‘I told you so’ after we beat the Lords. Bichak, what’s your status?” Bichak, who’s quickly skimming through the floating book Four gave to him, slides his free hand into his coat and takes out seven dull crystals. Three, Five, and Six join with One. Saamuki encases us in a bubble as Two separates from the Lords and teleports behind us with a battle cry and a flaming fist. It cracks but holds. 

She’s gotten a lot stronger but not all-powerful yet. It’s the reason why she blurts out, “We are all going to die if I’m the only one defending us against four Lords.” The silent vegetation presses his hand on Saamuki’s back. Soon after, she burst with a blue glow, which is almost blinding. Blue symbols etch onto her skin, peeking between her scales, as well. They’re the same ones I’ve seen plenty of times, and as I learned not too long ago, they are words from the very first language. Finally, with Saamuki overflowing with her powers, he pushes past to get to me. He motions for Ashley to hand me over to him. She hesitates, looking into his eyes as she tightens her grip on me.

“Kaishi,” Sakhra hissed. 

Ashley has changed her name. Of course, she’s changed a lot, but she’s still the same woman I’ve grown to love. Respectfully feisty as she grabs hold of the green alien and orders, “Don’t do anything that will make me regret bringing you along with us.” He slowly nods. “We’re all going to make it out of this.” She lets go of him before turning to Bichak. “We only have one chance at this. The Nantos won’t be giving the second time.”

“Just a quick memorization,” Bichak assured.

“Right. Saamuki, the bubble.” Coming from her back, liquified metal slides down to her hands. They solidify once they cover them and shoot through the newly formed opening. “Syco. Sakhra.” The two nod to her. As the Lord stumbles back, holding their wounded eye too, the three dart towards the rest of the Lords. They easily dodge Three’s, Five’s, and Six’s blasts. While the three of them are against the four Lords unless Four and Seven decide to stop being spectators, it’s Saamuki and Mikrovos against the one beefy Lord who’s been trying to smash through.

The bubble does, but it smashes against Two. It flew towards the Lord, who could’ve just moved out of the way but trying to push it back towards us interested them more. A shield comes flying towards the Lord and then another. Another comes. Each time Two tries to punch through it. It takes five times until they unleash a solidified, sharp aura in the shape of a sword to cut right through the sixth time. Mikrovos, with two blades from his gauntlets, blocks the colossal sword. Two’s much greater size pushes Mikrovos back, but Saamuki quickly returns to the fight by transforming her sash into a sword again. It floats next to and follows her as she runs across the makeshift, see-through blue staircase. She jumps the final step and thrusts the barreling long red blade towards Two with its tip pointed directly between where the Lord’s eyes should be. The Lord sidesteps away but is cut by Mikrovos in the process. 

Saamuki strikes the floor. Her sword comes back right next to her. It spins in the air as it once again tries to contact Two, but it clashes with the Lord’s sword. Mikrovos proceeds towards Two’s weaponless right, jumping over Saamuki’s blast, but Two realizes this between having their sword gliding against Saamuki’s, and so forms another one. Both of the Lord’s hands are preoccupied with the lover’s swords, and they are also busy swerving away from the serpent’s blasts. The trio seemed to match until the titan’s right foot stomped across the floor, causing the floor beneath Mikrovos to rip open. A pure black hole appeared beneath him, it swallowed him, but he didn’t disappear for long because he came crashing into the ground from the newly conceived tear above. 

Five is about to grab Kaishi, but because of their weight, it slows them down, making it easy for Sakhra to defend her with a ferocious punch. Amazingly, the collision didn’t crack the stones that makeup Sakhra’s right arm. Sakhra’s other arm grabs the Lord’s wrist and, with ease, throws the figure who’s more than four times his size and weight. Five’s fats jiggle as they spin in the air, going between the recently distanced One, Three, and Kaishi. The three watch the bulbous Lord land at Four’s feet. The landed Lord asks for Four’s hand, but Four peaks up from their book for just a moment and then slides it back up, ignoring Five’s continued pleas. The two reconvene when One and Three send disembodied fists, which Kaishi shoots. As for Six and Syco, the two are engaged in hand-to-hand combat. Like with Sakhra, Syco cannot yield against the far more powerful force that is Six. Nevertheless, he’s holding his own.

Everything seems to be going well. I thought it was until I noticed the subtle look Four and Seven give to each other as Seven’s crusty fingers stroke against their chains. I feel my body revitalized. I’m glowing brighter than ever before with symbols from the ancient language I’ve grown accustomed to pulsing across my skin, so with the boost thanks to the nameless hulking figure over my shoulder, I set myself towards the suspicious Lords until I’m scolded by Bichak. “What do you think you’re doing?” The seven crystals are spinning around the small four-eyed figure who also has the same symbols across his arms and face, coloring, no longer a hideous gray. 

“Helping my friends.”

“Commander Kaishi ordered us not to get in the way. Well, you weren’t a part of the order as everyone assumed you were dead, but she’d see it best for you to stay here. Protecting these crystals until they’re ready is everyone’s priority. Besides, I’ve seen how angry she can get. So I don’t want to be on her bad side this time.” All four of his eyes side-eyed the green giant. 

I turn with the snap of One’s fingers. With it, all around us, Watchers appeared. I tried looking away to not be reminded of the atrocities I committed, but they are all around. I covered my mouth and began to quietly cry. The two enemies turned allies just looked at me, but I wasn’t expecting sympathy from either. I sure wasn’t expecting Saamuki to be enraged. Well, The Speaker is the one enraged as they punch through Watchers left and right in what I assume is them freeing the blood. 

[sweettist]

Forced to Resist: A Hypno Fantasy

More Hypnotic Fantasies by SweetTist

Laurence shivered as Mistress Iris walked him through the crowded dungeon. With the blindfold on, he couldn’t see all the people watching him but he knew they were there by the low, respectful chatter, and the sound of various forms of impact play.

He made sure to keep up with Mistress Iris’ steps, the chain of the nipple clamps he wore would pull his nipples sharply if he strayed too far behind.

She had been training him to the clamps for several months, though this was only the second time he’d had to do it blindfolded. And the first time in public.

How many people were watching her purple clad form lead his naked body by his nipples? How many did she discuss her plans for him with?

He shivered again and almost missed when she stopped, the chain on the clamps going suddenly loose. He halted in time.

“You know what I have planned for you, don’t you?” her hypnotic voice poured into his left ear.

Had she said any other words, he would have melted for her then and there. But, tonight he wasn’t allowed to melt for her.

“Yes, Mistress Iris.” His voice cracked on her name. She continued before he could repeat himself.

“And you know why you are here tonight, don’t you?” How he loved melting for her. How torturous it would be to have to stay all the way awake through what she had planned for him.

“Yes, Mistress Iris.” This time his voice didn’t crack.

“Tell me why you are here tonight?”

How many people could hear their conversation? How many people could hear his answer? He licked his lips, hesitating.

“Tell me,” she rested one hand in the middle of his chest and gave the chain attached to his nipples a small tug. He inhaled at the sting of pain that shot through both nipples, then it was over, her hand disappearing and the chain dropping slack once again.

“I enjoy resisting too much.” His voice shook slightly from the momentary pain in his nipples.

“Exactly. And?” Why did she have to use that voice on him, now, when he couldn’t give into it.

“You’ve asked me to stop resisting and I keep doing it. So, the only thing I’m allowed to do tonight is resist.”

This time her silky voice was in his right ear, her lips brushing its inner curve.

“Very good.”

Her hand returned to the middle of his chest and pushed lightly.

“Take two steps back. Slowly.”

Following her guiding hand, he did as she commanded, and found his back against something hard and wooden.

Her hand moved from his chest to tap his legs further and further apart.

Then a cuff, leather, he was sure, encircled first his left ankle, another one then encircled his right.

Laurence could feel the soft fabric of her dress caress his leg as she stood and cuffed each of his wrists. Not above his head, as he was expecting, but where they hung naturally, pulled only a few inches away from his body.

The cool wood warmed up against his back as he listened to his Mistress give his limits and safewords. She added “And no one touches the chain or his nipples but me.”

He didn’t hear any answers but she must have been satisfied because she said “Thank you all for volunteering. You may begin.”

He wasn’t sure what to expect but a soft gentle caress down his right arm, from shoulder to wrist wasn’t it.

A voice filled his right ear, an unknown, breathy female voice.

“You can feel me stroke down your arm, can’t you?” Her hand continued to stroke down his arm. Shoulder to wrist. Shoulder to wrist. Always returning to his shoulder, and sliding down to his wrist.

He nodded but as he did so, a hand stroked his hair, nails scraping lightly against his scalp. Moaning, his eyes rolled up into the back of his head.

“You aren’t allowed to go under.” Mistress Iris’s voice filled his other ear. “Remember. You are only allowed to resist.”

A familiar, painful tug on his nipples caused his eyes to blink open, under the blindfold. The hand stroked through his hair, the nails once again lightly scraping his scalp. He moaned louder.  

“My hand stroking down your arm. I bet you can allow your mind to follow my hand down your arm, can’t you?”

He found himself nodding, even as the unknown hand returned to his hair, causing another moan.

A new femine voice filled his left ear, even as the other spoke in his right ear..

“Trance feels so amazing, doesn’t it? To sink into it. For your mind to drop.”

With that word his mind tried so hard to resist but with the hands and competing voices, he started to drop.

His mind hit a barrier and he bounced back up, uncertain what had happened.

“Letting your mind follow my hand down your arm, Laurence, as if my hand was your mind, and your arm, was trance. Your mind can follow my hand, now.”

Again he tried to resist, but with the hand stroking down his arm combined with the other hand in his hair, and the hypnotic words filling his right ear, he started to drop.

And was again bounced back up. It was a strange feeling, he could feel a small something form in his mind.

Another hand joined the other two, this one tapping the middle of his forehead and then stroking down his nose. Tap on his forehead, stroke down the nose. Over and over.

There was no third voice accompanying this, but there didn’t need to be. This was torture.

Tap, stroke through hair, stroke down arm, stroke down nose, hypnotic feminine voices filling his mind.

And each time his resistance failed, he was bounced back up, the something in his mind growing with each bounce. Was it fog? Or perhaps a shadow? Or maybe it was emptiness?

He couldn’t concentrate, with everything he was being bombarded with. And he needed to concentrate, concentrate on resisting.

Which he failed to do over and over again. Dropping and bouncing up again and again.

By the time he felt a headband settle over his head, his resistance was hanging on by a thread and that something had grown larger.

He only noticed the headband because it caused the hand in his hair to stop stroking for half a second before it resumed.

The tap on his forehead disappeared which he found was a relief. The relief was short lived.

Even as the hand in his hair and the one down his arm continued, as well as the voices in his ears, the blindfold was lifted.

His eyes blinked in the shadowy light, the confusion doing nothing to help strengthen his resistance, or to stop the something now taking up most of his mind.

When his eyes could focus, the shadows on his peripherals remained, only ahead of him was clear.

And filled with a single thing.

A slowly swaying, twirling crystal, reflecting small flashes of light. His eyes were caught the moment they recognized what they were seeing.

The hand stroking through his hair was joined with a second.

The hypnotic voice in his left ear started to incorporate the pendant, the stroking of his hair, the stroking down the arm, and even managed to get his mind to imagine the forehead tap and stroke down his nose.

Then the hypnotic voice in his right ear started to incorporate them all, as well.

The last shreds of his resistance fell to the floor and he fell and bounced up out of trance a dozen, two dozen, a hundred, two hundred times. The something swallowed his mind whole.

He didn’t notice when his body went limp. Didn’t notice when his body was only held up by the cuffs around his wrists and ankles. His mind repeatedly dropped and bounced out of trance.

He was gone. Drool seeped from his lips. His eyes stared unblinking at the flashing pendant.

He was gone.

Not in trance. He couldn’t be.

He was simply gone.

Broken.

He didn’t notice when the pendant was pulled away. He didn’t notice as the hands in his hair slipped away.

He didn’t notice when the dual voices in his ears drifted away, the hand down his arm going with them.

He didn’t notice as his eyes were gently closed and the blindfold settled back into place.

He didn’t notice as the headband was softly pulled off of his head.

He didn’t notice as his ankles were uncuffed.

He didn’t notice the large man Mistress Iris directed next to him as she uncuffed his wrists.

He didn’t notice as this man caught his limp body and carried him to one of the comfy couches in the quiet room.

He didn’t notice the man lay him down onto his Mistress’s lap, careful not to tug the clamps.

He didn’t notice Mistress Iris thank the four Dommes that had assisted her in breaking him.

He didn’t notice his Mistress rocking him, her voice soothing.

What he noticed was the pieces of his mind coming back together, solidifying once again.

By the time he noticed, most of it was back together, only a few pieces still missing.

As she put the last pieces into place, however, he didn’t notice her fail to return his resistance.

The End

(Not my usual style but I wrote it as gift to someone. I hope you enjoyed!)

Reblogs loved and appreciated.

[dreaming-dabbles]

Obsessed

Pairings: Dabi x Hero!Reader

Word count: 1.2k

Summary: Dabi has taken a special interest in a rookie hero with a unique quirk.

Context: Y/n has water based ice quirk, Sub-Zero Wave. Your powerful quirk allows you to produce freezing water that will solidify into dry ice upon contact with a foreign object. You can control its path but this is very difficult and drains energy quickly. Over use of you quirk wil cause you to devolp frost bite, if you continue to use it, your body will begin to freeze from the inside out.

A/N: I’ve gotten quite a few asks to do a continuation of Neutralized, so here you go! I hope you guys like it! Let me know if you guys want a second part to this! Love ya!!

PART I/2

The spring’s chilly night air floated around you gracefully, the sweet smell of flowers and rain brought an extra enthusiasm to your normal stride. You hummed in contentment as you silently counted the brilliant, shining stars far above you. Tonight was shaping up to be a great night or...so you thought. As you shivered under the heated gaze that traced along your wandering form, you reluctantly realized that you had company yet again. You sighed quietly, trying your best to ignore the steady stare the shadows provided while you preformed your regular evening patrol. Recently, you had caught the attention of a certain blue flame wielding villain for some reason you still weren’t sure of.

The day your life was violently intruded upon by that man’s dark presence, you could feel your peaceful, mundane existence slowly turn to ashes. Nothing had been the same after he had gently bathed you in the blue light of his flames. Life became dangerous, a simple trip to the store would have goosebumps plaguing your flesh. Around every corner you swore you would catch a glimpse of those spiky, ebony locks, and the hero work you had committed your life to, now had you wondering if you would see tomorrow. You didn’t understand his motives and you weren’t entirely sure you wanted to. However you knew one thing for certain, you wouldn’t be able to rid yourself of this criminal anytime soon. He, himself, had made that quite clear.

“Come one step closer and I will arrest you Dabi.” You warned in a low voice, your eyes flicking over your shoulder as you came to a sudden halt. You body was rigid with tension as you heard the unmistakable sound of his footsteps slow to a pause. The tips of your fingers swirled to life with frigid, dripping crystals as you anticipated his next move. You could feel in your chest that this latest encounter was going to get bad.

“Aw, don’t be like that doll face. I just wanted to check on you, a pretty little thing like you shouldn’t be out this late. It’s dangerous.” Dabi hummed, stepping slowly onto the moonlit sidewalk. His low, rumbling voice sent electric sparks racing up your spine. As these damned shocks bit at you, you realized there was no way you we’re getting out of his path unscathed.

You remained silent, your lips pressed in a tight line as his eyes flitted over you with predatory intent. You glared daggers at the scarred man, hoping that your cheap intimidation tactic would make him hesitate, if only just a little. But, alas, it did nothing of the sort, instead your little trick earned you a crooked, toothy smile that told you that you were in trouble.

The scent of smokey caramel flooded your senses as he tentatively shambled closer to your side. Dabi smirked as your wary gaze followed him, the moon’s reflection twinkling within your irises. Damn, how he’d love to see what those big, beautiful eyes would look like with only his reflection.

“What’s the matter, rookie?” Dabi purred mischievously as he circled you like a hungry shark. “Scared?”

“No.” You lied, your tone rife with false bravado. You silently commanded your features to hold a permanent look of boredom while you swiftly took stock of your hazardous situation. The midnight streets were utterly devoid of life, not a soul in sight and you had at least another hour left of your patrol.

No one was going to come. You were completely on your own now. It was just you and Dabi. A tremor of fear shot through you for a slip second, it was barely noticeable, but of course, Dabi noticed. He always noticed.

“You know, you really suck at lying. If your going to be a real hero someday, you might want to get better at that.” Dabi murmured, watching with amusement as your unease mounted.

“Don’t you have better things to do?” You questioned, mentally preparing yourself for the impending confrontation of what was most likely to be a deadly fight. “Wasting time to stalk a rookie hero doesn’t seem like something your boss would be real appreciative of.”

“I do what I want, I’m not some fucking lap dog.” Dabi tsked at you, his mood growing foul at the mere mention of his leader. Ah, you definitely hit a nerve.

“Look, Unless you’ve come to turn yourself in, it’s probably in your best interest to leave me alone.” You asserted, clinging to the sliver of hope that he might listen.

Dabi only narrowed his eyes at you in response. His unreadable glare ripping a hole in your chest as all his movements ceased.

“What are you going to do if I don’t?” He mused. “Kill me?”

Before you had time to process his words, a barrage of blue flame grazed past your body. Your reflexes had knocked you to the ground in the nick of time, you felt your breath abandon you as the fire engulfed the very spot you had just been standing. It began to eat it’s way towards unsuspecting homes with ferocity and without thinking, you activated your quirk, quickly extinguishing the growing blaze with watery troves of dry ice. Unfortunately, you had to remove Dabi from your line of sight to do so, and by the time you realized your mistake it was already to late.

His searing, hot hands locked around your chilly wrists causing a vast plume of hissing smoke to surround you both as your contrasting temperatures fought for domain. You struggled futilely under his weight as he held you in place. This was it, this was the day you were going to die.

“What now little hero?” Dabi jeered, his tone dripping with venom as he stared down at you. “Just what are you going to do to make sure I don’t cremate you?”

You gave no answer. Dabi sighed before brushing the hair out of your face, he could see plainly the tears that were threatening to spill over you freezing cheeks. You were so scared...yet you did nothing to stop him. He watched in amusement as the ice encasing your fingertips melted away, a small gesture that told Dabi that you refused to fight him.

Fuck, you were just too adorable.

You felt his grip loosen, his touch now gentle as he wiped the unshed tears from your eyes. You worked up the nerve to finally peer up at the man above you, your pumping heart almost stopping as Dabi rested his forehead against yours.

“Just kidding...” The scarred man whispered, you froze as his warm lips pressed against the inside of your palm. You could feel the cold metal of his silver stitches as your fingers unconsciously caressed his cheek.

Was...was this really the man from just a second ago?

Before you could answer your own question, you were being pulled to your feet. Dabi released you from his hold entirely. You took an immediate step back but he only offered you a small smile before turning on his heel.

“Catch you later doll.” He called out before disappearing back into the shadows. You eyes remained transfixed despite the fact you could no longer see his broad shoulders.

Again, just as you did on the day your worlds collided...you felt a strange stirring within your heart.

[ahh-fxck]

I brushed up and expanded one of my drabbles. Thank you @stressedspidergirlsfandomblog for the inspiration, I hope you enjoy it!

Her eyes widen with surprise and she turns, a smile stealing across her face. “You said it aloud,” she notices, violet eyes sparkling.

Geralt smiles, flashing his sharp canines. “Special occasion,” he quips, but as she takes a breath to complain he leans down and captures her in a heartfelt kiss. Laughing warmly, she twines her arms around his neck and pulls him close. Their tongues slide together as their eyes drift closed, and Geralt wraps his arms gently around her waist. A soft sigh drifts between them as their bodies melt into one another, lost in the patter of the rain falling from the roof.

As they part, eyes sparkling, Yennefer licks her lower lip and gives Geralt a playful, calculating look. Then she says, “Breakfast?”

Geralt curls loosely in the alcove formed by a luxurious window seat, staring glumly out the glass panes at the rain pouring down outside. He had been planning to go out riding with Yennefer today, to take her to a special place he had found out in the forest. Instead, they were stuck inside while the churning downpour turned the roads to impassable mud. There was no way he was taking Roach or Yennefer out in it.

Instead, he casts his eye over the estate below him. The rich gardens are full of flowers at this time of year, a visual feast from the window seat in normal weather. Right now though, the plants are bent in the downpour, appearing to huddle together against the ferocity of the rain. He grumbles, feeling thwarted.

Around him, the rest of the castle is still asleep. Even Yennefer is in bed across the room from him, soundly slumbering. She likely would be so until well after when he normally had breakfast, but even that was hours away. Years of hard living had made it difficult for him to stay asleep after daylight broke, and today had been no different.

As he eyed the flowers shivering in the rain, an idea began to form. Out in the forest some miles from here, he had discovered a cave while he was on a hunt. It had been a wild, tumbling place covered in rich early spring lilacs, tucked at the back of a ravine. At the very base of it, amidst the rich twisting of thick roots, the mouth of the cave sparkled in the early morning light. At first he had wondered if it was dew on the rocks, but as he got closer, he realized that the rocks were in fact covered in little crystals. 

Around the entrance of the place were chunks of raw rock striated with bands of gemstone, red and orange and white. They’d fallen away from the ceiling and walls some time ago, revealing the crystalline hollow to light and wind. Geralt ventured further in, cautious, keen ears pricking at the shift of every pebble. He held a sign at the ready, prepared to cast it at a moment’s notice should the roof begin to collapse. 

It held, however, and as he walked further back into the hollow, he saw that it was secure. As he turned around, his gaze sweeping the interior, he felt a prickle of wonder at what he found within. There were little gaps in the roof here and there where roots had poked through, allowing bright shafts of light to penetrate the dimness. The walls were a breathtaking array of multi-hued crystal, refracting the tender leafy light from above with rippling splendor. Whenever a breeze breathed into the cave, it filled with the heady scent of lilacs, of dirt and leaves and clean water. He had rarely seen anything more beautiful. It made him think of Yennefer.

Yennefer had been having a hard time of late. She was smart, yes, and self-possessed to a fault. Her world was hard, and cruel, and she was more than capable of holding her own within it. However, the Council had been embroiled in a series of terrible disputes as of late. For a group of people known for their backbiting, Geralt had been impressed by the spate of viciousness in the stories Yennefer had been bringing home lately.

The toll on Yennefer herself had been troubling. The Council had become a truly hostile place for her, and her fellow sorcerers had cracked her armor. They had found ways to diminish her, to take pieces away. She had become withdrawn and angry, keeping Geralt at a distance, suggesting he go find contracts and leave her in peace. And he’d done so, and returned. When he’d come back, she’d been more withdrawn than ever. The cycle had repeated, his worry increasing, until she had exploded in rage and cast him unceremoniously out onto the road again. Upset but unsurprised, Geralt had returned to the Path, putting her out of his mind until he’d found the crystal cave in the forest nearby some months later. 

He’d ridden back to Vengerberg, apprehensive but hopeful. And indeed, Yennefer had cooled down in the intervening months. She was more subdued than usual when he arrived at her gate, but she had welcomed him back into her home. After dinner, she had even welcomed him into her bed. 

It had been about a week since then, but the rain was refusing to let up. As he studied the flowers shivering together in the warm spring rain, the idea he’d been having solidified. He might not be able to bring Yennefer to the cave today... but perhaps he could bring it to her.

Some hours later, Yennefer awakens to a dripping wet Witcher toweling himself off nearby. His mind is curiously blank, and when she tries to brush deeper, she encounters a hard wall where there is usually an open gate. It isn’t like Geralt to make such an effort to lock her out, but it isn’t entirely unheard of; Sometimes the Witcher wants his privacy, and she is generally content to let him have it. She sits up in bed slowly, eyes running up and down Geralt’s scarred, well-muscled body. Then her gaze drops to the floor, and she can see a pile of utterly sodden clothing near the door.

“Geralt?” She asks with a yawn. “What on earth have you been doing?”

“Something special,” Geralt replies unhelpfully, padding over to the wardrobe and rummaging until he finds a soft pair of black pants. Then he eyes his options and chooses a black chemise and, to Yennefer’s surprise, a black and silver doublet that she had picked out for him some years ago. Usually he had to be bribed or threatened into it; it was a rare treat to see him donning it of his own free will.

“Why?” She asks sleepily, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed. On a chair near the bed is a fur-lined silk robe in dark peacock green silk. With a graceful movement she rises and dons it. He shrugs, lacing up the doublet quickly. Then he turns to her and gives her a sweet, lopsided smile. Through the wall in his mind leaks a single image, of lilacs dewed with waterdrops, crystalline in early morning light. Cocking her head to the side, she approaches him, intrigued.

Gently as if he were handling a flower, he reaches out and draws her in for a long, slow kiss. As their tongues slide together, all she can see are flowers. Lilies, lilacs, roses, all covered in rolling droplets.

When they part a moment later, his yellow eyes are soft. She purses her lips at him, suspicious. When he sees her suspicion he merely smiles, taking her by the elbow and nudging her towards the door. “Come with me,” he insists. Eyeing him again, she allows herself some curiosity and nods. “Not far, I hope?” She says primly, sliding her feet into silk slippers and tying the robe around her waist.

“Not far,” he rumbles, pleased. Opening the door, he gestures her out into the hallway. He follows her out of the door and into the hallway, then leads her up several flights of stairs to a small observatory perched at the top of the manor. The door is closed, but she can smell a riot of floral odors drifting on the breeze blowing under it.

“Close your eyes,” he hums, smiling. She frowns at him, brushing across the wall inside his mind again, but all she can see is flowers. While she could break through it easily enough, she chooses not to, allowing him his surprises. It’s very rare that he plays games like this with her, and she is finding herself enjoying it. Closing her eyes, she reaches out for him and he takes her hand. With the other hand, he opens the door and carefully escorts her across the threshold. Inside the room she is bombarded by the smell of flowers and water, different from the usual wood, paper, and ink that she associates with the space. The light is rich through her eyelids, too rich for the weather.

“Open,” he says, and there’s a note of pride in his voice. She does, and lets out a little gasp. The room is covered in geometric arrangements of flower and crystal, undulating bands of color and shape that line the walls of the observatory.

The flowers are in vases, and the vases have been set in big glass bowls full of shining marbles in different hues, catching the drips. Near the irises and lilacs are big chunks of amethyst, fluorite, and tanzanite, grading into bands of malachite and jade surrounding bowls of freshly cut ferns and birds of paradise, shocking sprays of orange, pink, and blue amidst the green stones.

As she turns around the observatory, the damp rainy light catches and refracts amongst the stones and glass that form a rainbow around the room. The cascading water pouring off of the roof makes everything ripple and dance.  As she comes to a rest her eyes feast on jasper, ruby, and carnelian surrounding roses, fragrant and damp in the lovely light. She recognizes most of the precious stones from around her manor, but has never had them all arranged together in one place like this.

“Geralt...” She breathes, squeezing his hand.

He steps close, kissing the side of her head and drawing her against his side. “There’s more,” he murmurs fondly against her ear. Gesturing, he draws her attention to the big desk at the center of the room. Instead of the usual stacks of books, papers, and globe, there is a tablecloth. On it sits a tray with a tall, cold tankard full of apple juice, beads of moisture winking on its sides. There is a plate stacked high with honey cakes and sweetmeats in the middle.

A wide smile crosses her face, and she brings his arms up, wrapping herself in them. Leaning back against him, she luxuriates in the solid warmth of his strong body behind her. He squeezes her close, sighing with contentment, fully releasing the wall he’d held between them. Their thoughts twine together like rising steam in the late morning light.

<<Why?>> She asks, fingers gently caressing across the backs of his hands.

A swirl of images surrounds her, flickering phantom moments of suitors and sorcerers, kings and queens and merchant princes. Cruel flashes of the Council. Hungry eyes, empty hearts. Always trying to take away pieces of her, diminish her, make her a known, controllable quantity. Yennefer has become self-possessed out of sheer force of personality, but the gnawing abrasiveness of her world still takes pieces away, sometimes. Makes her feel smaller. She didn’t realize how often Geralt saw it, until now.

<<You are surrounded by this... people don’t see you. They see power, and they want to be a part of it... or control it. They take pieces. Make you feel small.>> They smile together, and he squeezes her closer. << I never want you to feel like you’re not good enough. You are exquisite. >> And then, he leans down and brushes his lips softly along her neck. They both sigh as she shifts back against him, her body relaxing into his. Bringing his lips to her ear again, he whispers, “I love you.”

~*~

Her eyes widen with surprise and she turns, a smile stealing across her face. “You said it aloud,” she notices, violet eyes sparkling. 

Geralt smiles, flashing his sharp canines. “Special occasion,” he quips, but as she takes a breath to complain he leans down and captures her in a heartfelt kiss. Laughing warmly, she twines her arms around his neck and pulls him close. Their tongues slide together as their eyes drift closed, and Geralt wraps his arms gently around her waist. A soft sigh drifts between them as their bodies melt into one another, lost in the patter of the rain falling from the roof. 

As they part, eyes sparkling, Yennefer licks her lower lip and gives Geralt a playful, calculating look. Then she says, “Breakfast?”

He smiles back at her, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Whatever you want.”

“Hmmm… Promise?” She purrs, pushing him gently towards the desk. With a soft chuckle he goes where she wants him to, letting her guide him into the big, comfortable seat. As he settles, she slides into his lap, curling herself so that she can reach the food and drink. He wraps his arms around her waist with a big smile and lets his fingers linger along her thighs, watching as she reaches out and pulls the tankard and plate close. Her robe slips and he glimpses her breasts. His eyes widen and she laughs, shifting to allow the robe to fall just that little bit more open. 

“Are you ever going to get tired of them?” She smiles fondly, cutting him a glance as she breaks apart a honey cake. 

“Hmm… Don’t think so,” he rumbles, peering over her shoulder contentedly. With a grin, she pushes his head up with the tip of one finger and offers him a bite of honey cake. His eyebrows go up as he sees it, and he delicately removes it from her fingers with his teeth. Then he carefully tongues the sticky honey and crumbs away, locking eyes with hers. A flush colors her cheeks as she lets her fingers linger on his lips. Then, eyes still locked with his, she takes a bite out of the little cake. A soft sigh escapes him, and his eyes drop to travel over her, lingering fondly on her lips, her skin, her bared breasts. She can feel the stirring of his cock against her thigh and a comfortable curl of warmth goes through her.

They pass a delightful morning together curled in the chair. Humming and murmuring to one another in the hushed tones of lovers, they feed one another cakes until the plate is empty. Teeth gently nibble crumbs off of fingers, lips and tongues gently suckle honey away until fingertips are tender and pink. And when the cakes and the apple juice are gone, they turn to one another, bellies full and hearts content. 

Yennefer catches Geralt’s sweet lips in a long, slow kiss, teasing him with gentle flickers of her tongue. He murmurs happily up against her, fingers tangling in the soft silk of her robe. Slipping back, she delicately stands. As their lips part he opens his eyes with a slow blink, following her to her feet. 

“Bed?” He suggests, teasing his fingers lightly along the collar of her silk robe. 

“Mmhm…” she replies, a mischievous smile playing about her lips. With a quick gesture of her hand, the desk vanishes. A sudden rush of air whooshes around them, filling the space where the desk once stood, and in its place there is their mattress and a generous pile of pillows. She smiles as Geralt’s eyebrows go up. 

“I like it in here,” she says. “Let’s make an afternoon of it.” And with that, she pulls him playfully onto the bed. Without protest he follows her, tumbling into the pile of pillows with a deep laugh. From the vantage point of the bed, the room is full of jewel colored light, surrounding and bathing them in bright hues. As Yennefer slips her robe off of her shoulders, his eyes play over her lithe, strong body. Above them, the storm roars with renewed fury, battering the glass panes with torrents of water. He rolls over onto his back, pulling her to him, and she flows over him like a river. 

Afterwards, they melt into one another, surrounded by the sweet scents of flowers and satiation. She kisses sweat from his face, and he tongues it delicately off of her neck, savoring the richness of her scent. Their cheeks rub together, hands exploring, smoothing away worries and settling into contented bliss. A deep rumble of contentment vibrates her body as he purrs, twining his arms around her and cradling her close. She snuggles into his chest, fingering the softness of the doublet, and lets her eyes slip closed. 

“I love you, too.”