#can you believe i was all for dragon mating and they made it boring?

[capinejghafa]

how to date your dragon was certainly a thing i read and now im gonna go on with my life. 2/5 would only recommend if you have an awkward amount of time to read it.

[malleusfucker]

private study session

i have a shit ton of uni work but is writing smut of this man more important i think so

i live and breathe for asshole malleus y’all don’t even understand that man is a smug bastard

synopsis: your grades have been plummeting. bad. so much so that if you don’t improve, you might have to end up retaking the yearーwhich you definitely don’t want. no matter how hard you study and revise by yourself, nothing seems to stick. that was until you built up the courage to ask your close friend, malleus, if he could tutor you.

warnings: smut/nsfw, degrading, choking, lowkey hate sex, overstimulation, unprotected sex, mating press, reader is afab but no gender or pronouns are explicitly specified

word count: 2.8k

“oh-ho? and what makes you believe that my time will not be wasted?"

“it won’t, i swear! …please, malleus, just this once. i might have to retake the year if i don’t improve.” you shifted your feet nervously, continuing your embarrassing attempt at trying to convince the dragon fae to lend you just a slither of his intelligence. you weren’t one to beg, but at this pointーyou had to. of course, being the only non-magic student to have miraculously enrolled into NRC, it was a given your grades would be subparーbut not to this extent.

"and we certainly don't want that, do we?"

malleus's tone was condescending, apparently relishing the sight of you pleading for his help in front of him. his lips curved into a grin, and he cocked his head to one side. “i mean… that would be unfortunate if you needed to repeat the year. i do enjoy the lessons i have with you, child of man.”

your eyes widened as if he were finally giving in to your wish, like a puppy seeing a treat for the first time. “then? then…!? will you help me, malleus?”

malleus seemed thoughtfully contemplative for a few seconds. you were sure you saw a glimpse of something in his eyes for a single second. something menacing.

“fine. i’ll accept your request, child of man. you’re quite the lucky one, you know? not everyone can say that they’ve had me as their personal tutor.”

personal tutor, huh? it didn’t sound bad when he put it like that.

it was 6 p.m. malleus agreed to assist you back at your own dormーwhich surprised you slightly, but you didn’t mind. if anything, it only meant that evening was about to be spent without any disturbances.

…

it became clear that malleus was going to spend hours tutoring you like he stated he would. you sat pitifully looking at the pages in front of you as he poured information into your ears that amounted to little more than background noise. he was in the seat next to you. his body, though, was stiff. with one leg over the other and his arms crossed, it felt like being lectured about how dumb you are. 

maybe this wasn’t a good idea.

but it was probably too late to back out of it now.

snap

“are you ignoring me, child of man?”

as you heard his fingers snap at you, you quickly brought your eyes back into focus to see a face brimming with frustration and irritation.

“were you even paying attention to a single word i said?”

malleus was furious. with a tone laced with something much more than frustration, you knew you messed up big. the words that came out of his mouth only made the hairs on your arms prick up, feeling your mouth get dry as he leaned in close to your face, seeing the rage in his expression ever more clearly.

he was close. too close. you were so uneasy that you were certain he would smite you on the spot if you said something stupid.

“yes..! i swear i was malleus!”

you felt his stare burn right through you, feeling as though he’d bite off your head any second. all that you could hope was that if you said “yes” enough, maybe he’d let you off easier.

that wasn’t the case.

“am i boring you? is a human’s time for daydreaming more important than mine?”

you started to shake in your seat, your heart in your throat.

“you have a lot of nerve, child of man. taking my generosity for granted, really, you are bold.”

he drew even nearer until his face was almost brushing yours. all you could do was tremble and pray that he wouldn't actually murder you at this very moment. suddenly feeling paralysed, you couldn't even gather the energy to defend yourself.

he pressed a finger on your foreheadーhard���watching you practically unravel in front of him.

“what will it take, child of manーfor you to listen? how can we make the time left today not utterly pointless?”

he remained far too close to your face for your liking. whilst your body was about to give way any second, you couldn’t help but feel your face heat up for some strange reason. you’ve never seen malleus so close up before, it was almost an honour. you wanted to shake these stupid, borderline dangerous thoughts away, but you almost felt in awe at the anger he was expressing to youーas bad as that was.

“hoh? got nothing to say? heh, it’s almost as if you’re trying to anger me. you’re certainly the first to do such a thing, child of man.”

he moved his finger from off your forehead to your jaw, resting it under your chin as he slowly tilted your head up to look at him. you gave him a glazed-over look. it was as if every single thought in your head suddenly turned off, rendering you speechless and still. feeling his finger touch underneath your chin, you couldn’t help but sweat, your face becoming more flushed by the second.

“hmm, your face is heating up. am i embarrassing you, child of man?”

malleus was. 

but even with all that embarrassment that was thoroughly washing through your entire body, you could sense a faint sensation of excitement starting to bubble. were you the masochistic type? did you actually enjoy getting humiliated by him? perhaps not, but seeing him get so riled up over youーhis face inches away from your ownーhey, maybe dying at the hands of someone like him wouldn’t be…too bad.

though, in the end, you could never hide things from malleus. if he couldn't detect your excitement from your face, something else revealed it for you. the slits in his eyes thinned, he glared at you. he could smell, ever so slightly, a hint of your arousal.

“...my. do you have a death wish?”

as soon as those words left his lipsーyou blinkedーsuddenly finding yourself having been thrown onto your desk, your back slamming onto the hardwood.

you gasped as you abruptly came out of your trance and felt him securely hold your legs as he towered over you. malleus wasted no time in entertaining those lewd thoughts your body was so clearly showingーwith a simple snap of his fingers, your clothes vanished and fell beside you. to say you were shocked to see this sudden change in him would be an understatement. you couldn’t tell what he was thinking, with how fast everything was moving, you could say he was eager butーwith that expression…

it looked as if your mere presence disgusted him.

malleus slid his hand up over your neck, wrapping his long fingers around it before slowly squeezing as he spoke.

“heh. child of man, give me one good reason why i shouldn’t kill you right here.”

your body was shaken to its core. that voiceーthat sentence alone made you feel faint. you pathetically flailed your arms around, weakly trying to release the grip he was slowly tightening on your neck. the pressure around your throat distracted you from how vulnerable you looked under him right now. naked and shiveringーmalleus started to grin and leaned close to you, gently planting a kiss on your forehead. it was strange. the kiss felt so soft on you, yet the pain you felt merely inches away couldn’t have been more different.

he laid tiny wet kisses down your forehead and jaw before snatching his other hand and slipping it between your legs, gently teasing your wet folds. something about the contrast between his touch and his kisses made you melt; you felt yourself slump lower and lower onto the desk as you embarrassedly leaked all over it. “...malleus- i’m- i’m sorry-” you wheeze, still trying to release the vicious hold he had on your neck.

his face stayed close to you, and he suddenly licked a long stripe up your neck and jaw. the sudden sensation made you twitch, moaning slightly at how warm and wet his forked tongue felt against your bare flesh.

“it’s all too late to apologise now.”

“tutoring you was an utter waste of time. now, i’d much rather try something else.”

before you could even attempt to reply, he let his hand from your neck free. you gaspedーsuddenly feeling your naked, trembling body be dragged to the edge of the desk. your mind was racing so much that you failed to hear the sound of his belt suddenly slamming against the ground. you stared off at the ceiling, your lip quivering. the whole thing seemed like a dream, albeit a strange one. your rational mind refused to accept the reality of the situationーbut your body...had never felt so hot before. it felt unbearable; you needed to be relieved. and luckily, malleus was there, leaning over with his gaze searing through you evermore.

he forcefully propped your shaking legs up against his waist with one hand, immediately snatching your face to make you look at him. however, for a moment, it looked as if he had forgotten what had led you two to be in such a predicament and simply loomed over you, staring at you. his gaze almost switched to a softer one, feeling the urge to gently caress your cheek. though that was quickly discarded, and immediately that familiar look of disgust soon reappeared on his face.

malleus moved his hips closer to yoursーfinally feeling his hard erection brush against your twitching core; you wincedーwishing you could throw your arms around him and bring him even closer to you.

malleus, however, was not in the mood to be so courteous to you and certainly didn't want to take up any more time than had already been lost.

without any preparation, you suddenly felt malleus drive one of his cocks into you. you screamed out, feeling him sliding and bottoming out of you with just one thrust. swiftly, with three of his fingers then violently thrust into your mouth, you gagged and choked, tears beginning to spill down your cheeks, 

“bite down. good students know not to be noisy.”

you tried to pathetically choke out to malleus that it was too muchーyour body shook and convulsed from the agonising splitting pain of his long, hard cock bullying its way into you, poking and prodding at your cervix. you sank your nails into the desk, biting down hard on his fingers as he pushed and slammed his hips into you, your cries for help becoming louder by the second. within minutes of him thrusting into you, you felt pressure rapidly build in your stomach, causing you to clench and squeeze against him. 

“oh? what’s this? don’t tell me you’re going to cum already?”

you wailed, but his insulting remarks just made you feel worse about your own increasing arousal. still choking on his fingers, you nodded frantically when you then felt sharp cramping throughout your body as if you were about to cum. he swiftly slipped his fingers out while he was still thrusting into you just so he could hear your pitiful cries. 

you felt your body shudder against the desk as a wave of scorching hot pleasure swept over you, pouring and seeping down onto the hardwood under you. you tried to catch your breath, gagging and choking as you already felt so sore and painful from just one orgasm. but it was obvious that malleus wasn't through with you just yet. it was, if anything, just the start.

he gave you time to calm down, your breath slowly easing as you shut your eyes, thinking this torture had reached its end. 

of course, malleus would not let you off that lightly. his rage persisted and seeing you believe that this punishment was over just made him more spiteful.

he leaned in, his breath hot, “i’m so glad you’re enjoying yourself. now put your arms around me.” his tone was once again mocking, but this time it felt more serious, like everything you did would simply enrage him more.

he suddenly forced you into a mating press, your legs wedged up against your chest as you struggled to wrap your trembling arms around his head. you cried out and started to think that your body wouldn’t be able to handle thisーthat he might actually break you.

as he started to softly drive into you, drawing more weak and muffled groans from your lips, your hands connected to the base of his horns, clutching and scraping your nails across them. he started off slow, almost giving a relaxing quality to his thrusts as he softly kissed your forehead and smiled sweetly against your face, much to your surprise. your body relaxed as a result of his sudden shift in attitude, enjoying the fleeting moments of him lovingly moving his hips against yours, which were only going to abruptly come to an end.

your eyes were closed, not being able to see the horrific smile malleus suddenly had across his face. you assumed that the strange sadistic side of him had long since vanished, as evident by your voice becoming moans of pure pleasure rather than of pain. regardless of his disposition, he enjoyed seeing you this way. seeing how you moaned so quietly and softly only made the urge to completely ruin you that much stronger.

“are you enjoying this?”

you slowly opened your eyes, malleus still gently pushing into you as you lazily nodded, whimpering as the pleasure inside you continued to become greater. “mmm…malleus. it feels so good…don’t stop.” 

“heh. so you think you can tell me what to do? your disrespect truly knows no bounds.”

your growing sense of pleasure abruptly gave way to a dreadful fear as he pushed your legs higher onto your chest and over his shoulders, making it clear that he was absolutely certain you couldn't get away. not understanding what he meant, your lip began to quiver, only for him to rid you of your confusion by suddenly thrusting into you aggressively. you screamed out, tears soon welling in your eyes again as he gave you no time to acclimate to the sudden pace. he licked his lips, savouring the view of you struggling and wailing underneath him as he gradually began to envelop your neck with his fingers. he hovered his face close to yours, sticking his long, forked tongue out before sloppily kissing your lips, still continuing his ruthless pace. you groaned under him, feeling yourself beginning to choke from both his tongue and his fingers, which were slowly beginning to squeeze your throat once again.

it was all far too muchーyour vision starting to blur, and all of your senses drowning and bleeding into one another as he kept pounding his thick cock into you, causing you to harshly grip and pull his hair. 

he immediately drew his face back and tutted at you, but seeing the way your eyes began to roll into the back of your head only made him want to quicken his paceーif it was even possible. 

“haha…perfect. so perfect…”

the words coming out of his mouth didn’t make sense. he was praising you yet abusing you with every thrust and squeeze of your body, not even giving you a chance to cry out as your head slowly began to feel faint. all of the pain and pleasure made you lose your mind, feeling your orgasm approaching rapidly as he started to lick and nip at your ears. 

he throbbed and twitched inside of you and felt his own climax begin to rise, eventually making the decision to be generous enough and remove his vice-like grasp from around your neck. you gasped and cried out, finally able to breathe and mewling as a result of his cruel touch. 

“malleus...ーpleaseーit’s too…ーmuch... ’m gonna-” he smiled at your pleas, pressing your legs harder against your chest, allowing him to thrust even deeper into you.

“heh, are you going to cum? haha…then do it. cum for me.”

it seemed as if he had put you under a spell with how immediate and intense your orgasm was, your walls clenching down on his throbbing cock with tears dripping down your chin. you felt the sensation of hot, burning pleasure wrack through your body once again, not even hearing your own screams from how strong it was.

malleus didn't even allow you to come down from your high. instead, he kept pushing to reach his own climax, feeling his body start to shudder and throb as he kissed you. “i’m…close…you’ll allow me to cum inside of you, won’t you? i know you will.” 

you didn’t even care anymoreーyour legs continued to shake and tremble as you feebly nodded with your eyelids flickering. it seemed like malleus would fulfil his word, for a few seconds later, he let out a moan as he unleashed and pumped copious loads of white cum into you, causing you to whimper as you felt him completely fill you up.

his breathing evened almost immediately. wiping the sweat from off your face, he delicately slid his cock out from inside of you to admire his work, gazing at the way your body jerked with his cum spilling and gushing out of your abused hole.

…

“heh. maybe tutoring you every week won’t be so bad after all.”

[iceinwhb]

You don't know how nice and grateful I am for reading all the contributions, correcting and providing data. I'm glad to be lazy for once in my life! I want to clarify that I didn't want to put in absolutely all the curiosities you can get from the game.

And I didn't want to get long with explanations either, or it might have been boring to read, but if you want a concise explanation of how I arrived at certain deductions, let's get started:

Death does not exist in Paradise Lost, because of Gamigin.

I remember that the pearl of dragons fulfills all kinds of desires. The limit is never explained, and this is also substantiated by Lucifer's words in the event; Gamigin is too young to be able to control it at will, but you are certainly given to understand that it has a limit. A limit to Gamigin's capabilities by ignoring the workings.

When he moves it, (Which moves it all the time, and suddenly the creature he wants to heal feels better). I did not devalue the workings of the battle system, because they give you some information.

If Gamigin truly had an "x" limit, you could only use his revive ability once, so yes, Gamigin can do it forever, and revive whoever he wants, he just never gets separated from Lucifer, and he doesn't want to either. To this point, we add that Lucifer has made it so that uninvited guests die if his rule is broken.

So, for those who don't come out of Paradise Lost, they can't die from angels, and they can't die from deficiency either, because of the healers.

(I did not save TT event data)

Solomon also had to drink human semen to stay in hell.

It is not certain that any demon went for human semen for him, but the knowledge of the data "human semen" on the part of Satan and Sitri only confirms that the knowledge itself existed.

Satan says in his H: "No matter how long you stay in hell, the fact that you are human does not change", meaning, that to stay long in hell, both Solomon and Mc needed human energy. This can be changed, by the fact that Solomon was in and out of hell at will, for months, which for Mc is impossible to stay without Min semen for that long.

I only emphasized that he also had to drink, when he knew nothing about hell, not that he used it all the time. Although it can be confirmed and disproved by PB.

Demons are infertile. Except for kings, because they have enough power not to use Lilith.

To this, it was a finger mistake, not a malicious one. I was guided by the messages that talked about Lilith (apparently, a change between the language versions, because in the one I use for convenience, it is Lilith).

I did not take it into account because I only counted with the mating between demons, although I remind you that Satan himself in his card bath, asks that "if we want a son, made with his power". Let's also count that, if it really was 100% real, the fact that humans and demons can conceive a child without the intervention of another demon, Mc would already be pregnant by this point in the story. Not to mention that I also went by "Leamas", and Nina, who is supposed, for the time they spent together according to the story, this one should have also been pregnant, which is not indicated at any point.

It can be easily disproved by…. PB, and whatever data he wants to keep.

I can only believe that "reproduction" is by the desire of the demon, although Leviathan in his card attacker was so out of mind and out of consciousness that he really wanted to impregnate Mc. But I will accept that the cards are out of the question.

It takes the six deadly sins to defeat Lucifer.

I counted that this was in their angelic form. They could fight, but not win. (I respect very much the point that Lucifer's ability is fucking broken), but let's get to a point of reasoning; if it was inferred that they could fight, the six deadly sins, knowing that Lucifer had the voice ability, meant that there was a way around it.

For the seraphim realm, each king has a way to avoid "the skills" of the angels themselves.

Demons and angels can change their shape. It influences their emotions.

It was my mistake for not reading. Yes, it is forms, not shape. Let's remember well that Beel can change his body at will, by flies, confirmed in the card Satan attacker, Bael, by his "style" change, Naberius by the change to Cerberus, Orias by the change of… Age?, Pyong to humanoid for April Fools' Day, also in the first time he meets Min and Lucifer's creepy change when he gets upset, lol.

Oh, we almost forgot that angels can take the "forms" of other angels, understood in the Leraye event.

Bael tries to be a copy of Beel. He must follow the change of form, from dyeing his hair to mutilating limbs, because he made a deal.

Truly, if you step on this topic, I will give it my all.

The contract thing, it's talked about in his messages (Hell-oh! Talk). By his own account, he says he "agreed" (I think it was more verbal, relaxed, because even Beel asked him and he agreed) something with Beel that makes him take even his place, and that he did it because he was "good friends", or something like that.

These are obtained, (I didn't get them either, I found out from external sources, so, the only evidence I could have was a screenshot from reddit when we choose the option to ask what habits Bael has, but we can access the information by asking about his appearance and the relationship he has with Beel, one of them applies when Mc asks why Bael continues to cover Beel. Sorry for not having the messages. If someone would be so kind as to post it, I would be very grateful if you could attach them, otherwise, thanks anyway for taking the time).

(It took me forever to find this. Really. And I wasn't sure that existed until, since I saw it around the time of the Bimet event, if not less. Bless my obsession with this demon).

I separated this topic, with the comic. That, in fact, the situation of the comic book one comes to understand that it did happen to serious. First; now that we can zoom in on the comic, you can see how the blood is vertical, going through Bael's skull, and in the second image, how he is lying on the floor. I delved a little deeper, and the situation is also implied in one of the chat rooms. When you have the first information of Beel, it is said that he killed one of the Seraphim.

In hell one can commit crimes of all kinds, without being punished. This also applies in heaven.

I took the point from the comics of the Chrismas cards. Since God left heaven, the seraphim took it upon themselves to make a massacre of their own, full of too many crimes not to know that there, the only rule to follow, are the whims of Michael, Raphael and Gabriel. The laws of hell have so many loopholes, that really, honestly, any crime is welcome.

I forgot to mention that angels only listen and obey the voice of god, so this led to their decline. The rules of heaven are said in the chat room, too.

Minhyeok is no longer human. Because of Mc's deal with Satan, nothing can kill him as long as it is in effect.

I think it's well said, in a way. As long as Satan helped Min, Mc would go to hell, and they both knew he meant "keep him alive". That's why they made the deal in the first place.

When he was cut a second time by Gabriel, did not bleed out, nor did he die, that makes him "not human", because humans are mortal, and we only experience death once.

It becomes more canon, because Mc, by breaching the contract, Satan would kill Min. (Thanks for the information, 2af-afterdark! I was lazy to do a little more research in the early parts of the story).

Death lines. Canonically die in battle.

Each healer has an ability, Buer specializes in herbs, Morax in absorbing wounds and taking all the damage, even if it leads him to death (he can revive demons, but in exchange for his life, so he doesn't), Marbas heals everything he touches, and of course, who never leaves Paradise Lost, Gamigin, is the one who can revive demons from death, and if we take into account the battle system, even he can revive if they get to assassinate him. Gamigin's limit is actually not having a body, (although the magic pearl never seems to have a limit, I just repeat, Gamigin doesn't know how to use it properly because he wasn't taught it, and Lucifer knows more about it than the dragon himself).

It is implied in the Hell-oh! Talk that no healer is able to heal mental wounds, and in the story itself, it is stressed that they cannot heal wounds that are caused by beings, or objects of greater power than theirs, (it is not yet proven if this rule is implemented to the magic pearl that grants wishes whose power almost rivals that of god, and it has not been seen how this interacts with the fruit of knowledge, but it seems that it is "impossible" out of Gamigin's ignorance).

The Glassy philia.

I placed it exclusively because the other philias, while rare, are morally questionable, Glassy's philia is illegal in human terms, because it damages integrity, that's why it's in the top.

On Ronove's part, he wouldn't actually abuse Mc's body, but would keep it in his collection for life, which doesn't go so far as to be crude.

The real Gamigin committed suicide.

From the beginning of the comic, the real Gamigin was in depression, and his way out was to "sacrifice" himself for the dragon. (I didn't read it until this moment, sorry). Later in Gamigin's comic, he says that he "didn't want to make atonement", and that he was actually "sad, but regretting it wouldn't change anything, and he would give his life because he wasn't able to protect anything".

Leviathan was going to end Solomon's lineage.

Levi knew what he was doing by murdering "the body where Solomon's soul resided". In his card attacker, his first impression was "How come you're here again?". He was aware that the human in hell was a descendant of Solomon, and by assassinating her, he would end not only a danger, but the Solomon line. I said it outside the game, actually, because we are aware of what was going to happen, even Solomon himself.

(Capture of chapter 4)

Satan/Mamon/Valefor/Lucifer

Here I wonder how they know how to take care of every move, if with just the slightest wrong touch, Mc would already be in the Ronové collection.

I counted only the violent ways, such as Satan and his blows to the head, Beel and his desire to eat her, Valefor and Mammon breaking all the bones, muscles, and organs with a single squeeze, and Mc cutting his neck from one moment to the next for being reckless.

The others would be mildly funny, like dying from a heart attack, dying from too much sex…

André's past.

It was commented in a "rumor", which was spread, that he spent weeks holding "his head", while he roamed. What we know is that it is impossible even if his neck was cut, as a demon cannot live with his head cut off. (Thank you so much for remembering thrones-of-buer, I really don't have the screenshots where it came from). We know that demons don't lie, so it may be "true" in a way.

Buer, Morax and Marbas have died hundreds of times.

I took this into consideration because of their lack of tact towards death. It can be easily disproved, but let's keep in mind that hell has been at war since Solomon disappeared.

Demons were the first to experiment with angels.

It was proven in chapter five, in the last parts. Mammon, upon learning of the experiments, took it upon himself to leave no trace of what had happened, and also took it upon himself to "punish" the demons who took over the lab.

MC is an orphan. His parents died when they were young and essentially grew up together with Minhyeok.

I didn't essentially know whether to mention a theory floating around that all of Solomon's offspring had been hunted by Gabriel, and even other seraphim, so, the death of MC's parents was actually murder, since Gabriel seeks to murder MC from the beginning of the story, so I left it out.

Ppyong can transform into a much larger and more terrifying demon. Apparently, Satan can take the same form.

This encompassed, in fact, "the change of form". So I deduced that all demons were capable of taking other forms, no matter what rank they were.

Hades is a realm that welcomes all orphans.

The thing with Hades, is that it has the same functioning as Gehenna, "a second home for demons or angels" (Except, of course, that in Hades angels aren't accepted. And apparently, also "Paradise Lost", that it does not matter that it is not a demon. The conditions for Tartaros is that you are rich, lol.

Unholyc have been mentioned by name in one of the chats, which confirms that the two games are connected.

In the Abyssos event, it is mentioned that LU is actually a game within whb, and that a demon had been inspired solely by Asmodeo. (I don't quite remember if this is truly canon, that's why I didn't post it, for lack of my memory TT).

Gusion is likely to be one of the older demons, since we see that he served as a tutor to Satan and younger Bell.

And how can we forget that we also suspect that Foras is the younger demon serving Levi!

Angelification is caused by the seeds of the fruit of knowledge, not the actual fruit.

A copy of the seeds of the fruit of knowledge, because the real one cannot be handled by anyone other than God, although God allowed Solomon to have anything he wanted, except God's power. (The relationship between Solomon and God is highly likely to have been romantic. I personally don't think this one is).

Apparently, you need wings to stay in (at least part of) Heaven. Lucifer ripped it off for him to fall.

This is an absolutely new tidbit I hadn't thought of, hahaha! Does that mean that Solomon actually always needed help to be in Heaven with God? I remember in the comic of Raphael, he walked normally...

Both angels and demons eat each other.

Raphael eats both angels and demons, and Beel stays out of it, only tasting angels, since he never mentioned the idea of having eaten another demon.

There were at least six Seraphim at some point (Raphael, Gabriel, Michael, Lucifer, the one Gabriel killed, and the angel Bell ate was also one, I think).

I believe that the one Gabriel seriously wounded and tried to kill was in fact Lucifer… It is not known if he used the scythe, but if he did, he cut him twice.

One of the angel classes is translated as Vulture, when it should be Virtue. This is the only class apparently mistranslated.

I think "vulture" is taken more in a "derogatory" way, lmao. New fact added! (In the Spanish language, they are also "vulture")

(The following involves a little interpretation) Demons take pleasure in their horns and secrete a white liquid from their horns when stimulated. This liquid is not semen, as it is often called milk. What this liquid actually is… the biology of demons is not so clear.

Since they cannot reproduce with each other, it seems more like a sexual organ meant to give pleasure, and secrete fluid. We don't really know if the seminal fluid actually comes from the horn or from the penis. Apparently it is a real "horn".

My theory about its composition is that they have small nerve lines with "sperm" ducts that travel to the tips of the horns, and they even have a "hole" at the end, like a type of "urethra", and these are solid and hard, but can break. When they break, they do not damage the ducts, nor do they damage the nerves, but they continue. We can understand that they are almost invisible, thanks to the cut horn of Mammon, which continues to scrutinize "milk", the blunt part by Beel bloodshed, and that they come out of all the tips, by Leviathan.

Apparently, major demons (such as kings and nobles) cannot fly, but some minor demons (such as Ppyong) can.

Only in some forms, because in Pyong's humanoid form, he cannot fly. This is also very rare, because with the form, you don't get the wings. Maybe these are only special for the red lumps, and the winged form changes, like Beel when he turns into flies, and Stolas when he turns into a raven.

April Fool's Day in Hell is when strange phenomena occur. To curb the randomness of the day, Zagan attaches talismans to them to cause a more predictable effect. If you break the talisman, you get a random effect.

And Christmas wishes, which can stop the war for a night.

On Halloween, an uncontracted mortal can visit hell for a day (Earth time) if he gets the approval of a majority of the kings (or if someone forges some signatures well enough).

And that, when humans leave hell, they lose all memories of being in that place. (We should talk about the marriage proposal that Mammon proposes?)

Glasyalabolas is the tallest demon in Hell (assuming that the fact that he is the only demon taller than Mammon remains constant).

For the moment, of all the ones we know of. It is not known if there will be taller, or of equal size, and that the tallest angel is Michael. (Confirmed in an invasion of Hades' realm in chapter five, where we also hear that Michael has a way of characterizing himself).

Michelleel can move her eyes in two different directions at the same time.

The shudder I got from that… Ugh. Let's not forget that if an angel were to pluck, her wings would be the same as any bird's wings, plus angels can lie and cheat. (It gave me the creeps).

I got tired of writing too much too! But it was totally worth it, in case there are little people who don't understand some points, due to lack of old age in the game. (Poor souls who didn't play the events. They missed most of them).

I would add more theories on my part, such as:

• Lucifer having a much closer relationship to God than we think, because of his lack of the chastity belt, the LITTLE hatred he has for Solomon, and the reproach when he thinks of God. • Or just his curiosity, that he only gets erections when God is discussed. • Also that Satan does have eyebrows and they are thick, but for some reason he cuts them off. • Also, that throughout the story, Beel has been giving up on Solomon, just as Satan also let go of his affection for Sol. • Also, that Bimet's brain fails him when he thinks Mammon may become poor. • Orias could have worked for Beel. • Amon always waits to eat with Beel. • Eating Amon's hair makes the one who eats it grow faster. • Hell-oh! Talk have censored. • Bathin can listen to the jewels. • There are other gods besides the god that angels follow.

Whb iceberg.

We start from curiosities, data that we can realize at first sight and descend to the murky ones. I clarify that I will also attach non-canon theories.

• In hell, a hundred years have passed since Solomon disappeared, while, on earth, since 931 BC.

• Not only Solomon, but also God and Lilith.

• Satan has a barcode on his arm, and sleep with his eyes open.

• Death does not exist in Paradise Lost, because of Gamigin.

• Beel left Abyssos since Solomon's disappearance.

• Orias will never stop consuming souls. Youth is never eternal, and by obtaining Levi's soul, it would only stop it for a while.

• Satan has confirmed that he has lost his home.

• Angels can also be humanized.

(Theory)

• Ark Academy and whb are connected.

• Solomon also had to drink human semen to stay in hell.

• Demons are infertile. Except for kings, because they have enough power not to use Lilith.

• All six deadly sins are needed to defeat Lucifer.

• Demons and angels can change shape. It influence their emotions.

• Bael tries to be a copy of Beel. He must follow the shape-shifting, from hair dyeing to limb mutilation, because he made a deal.

• Minhyeok is no longer human. Due to Mc's deal with Satan, nothing can kill him while it is in effect.

(Theory)

• Gamigin and Serenade will never see each other again. Since they reside in different realities.

(Theory)

• Beel wants to eat Mc.

(Theory)

• Morax's skill. Absorbs wounds, even if they are fatal.

• Beel has eaten angels.

• Solomon can possess the bodies where his soul resides.

• In hell, crimes of all kinds can be committed, without being punished. This also applies in heaven.

• Bael's comic. He almost died for impersonating Beel. Still can't explain what happened.

• Solomon has all the filias. Even the most questionable ones.

• Angels have orgies.

• Christmas cards. It's sexual abuse.

• Leviathan is the first, and the one who has forced Mc the most to have sex.

• Beel has died thousands of times because of angels.

• Death lines. Canonically they die in battle.

• The Glassyalabolas filia.

• Solomon knows what happened to Lilith and God.

• Fruit of the tree of knowledge.

• God and Lilith are dead.

(Theory)

• The real Gamigin committed suicide.

• Ronove is going to take the fingers from Mc's corpse.

• Leviathan was going to end Solomon's lineage.

• Kamikaze angels.

• Jjok was abandoned in the forest to die.

• Buer, Morax and Marbas have died hundreds of times.

• Satan has anger problems that can kill Mc.

• Mammon and Valefor could kill Mc by accident if they apply the wrong force.

• Angelification is so painful that it breaks a demon's mind.

• Mc has a high probability of dying if ignores where may or not be in Paradise Lost. This implies that Lucifer can kill anyone with just a voice command.

• Demons were the first to experiment with angels.

• The massacres of the angels. This includes the demonic, angelic race and the near extinction of dragons.

• Andre's past. (He carried his twin's head for days.)

• The archangels will never get the punishment they deserve.

• Leviathan and Orias' constant abuse on the farm.

⛧✃✃✃⛧✁✁✁⛧✃✃✃⛧✁✁✁⛧

Does anyone else have any interesting or shady data?

It took me a day to gather information in my head, but that's it! I appreciate knowing that the shape-shifting is different, between angels, and Beel's camp.

Edit: Yeah, as soon as I realize my man is a walking red flag, it's confirmed that Levi baby never tries to have a forceful response from Mc, or tries to get her to ask him first.

[endursent]

An Aspect's Affection

characters; alexstrasza, ysera, nozdormu, x gn!reader

summary; bullet-point affection in headcanon format, a spice of character analyses and some angst if you squint. the three original remaining aspects need some loving, and them to love us some, it's healthy for everyone involved.

note; started this before dragonflight came out—for ao3, decided to slap it here as well—planned to have it done before release… took longer than i thought it would, my bad lol. i love reader-inserts and all dragons but especially the aspects, first fic i post in years yikers. please enjoy.

read on ao3

Alexstrasza

As the Queen of Dragons, Leader of the Red Dragonflight and most importantly, a mother, Alexstrasza serves her duties with unmatched tenacity and grace. You would be hard-pressed to find a more suitable person for the job. But despite her parental nature and deep desire to fiercely protect those dear to her, she does not baby you—she trusts you and believes you are perfectly capable to handle obstacles thrown your way, it is only when you either ask her for assistance or she deems the situation out of your control that she will interfere. Alexstrasza loves every creature on Azeroth, sometimes to an unreasonable degree, she makes sure it is known that they all fall under her wing, her protection and care—and few move independently from the shade her wings cast and can so easily find her attention as you do. She favours you, unafraid to admit your presence is much more desirable than some—than many—and will seek your company over others.

Alextrasza is not a young whelp, she has flown Azeroth's skies for far longer than the older races that walk the soil have on two feet, and even if she loves and cherishes every life on Azeroth, even though she desires to protect and preserve their health, she will also have them understand that they will stand on their own legs through the high wind—but that were it to come to it, she will always stand before the storm.

If you were to allow it, Alexstrasza would love to decorate you, to gift you gold and jewels to hang upon your person wherever you so desired. She would prefer you wear red and gold, adorned with her gifts and more often by her side than not—fitted like you truly to belong to each other, made for each other—Alexstrasza would not insist you do as she would like, but would appreciate it even more so if you chose to by yourself.

Were you to lay the palm of your hand to her scales, you would find them to be comfortably warm. Her body emits a comforting heat that reflects her burning love and passion for her children, family and consorts, a love that does not fade even for the dead. Her golden gaze—whether draconic or elven—eases whatever nerves might trouble you, a gaze so soft you might feel cotton fill your chest.

It's a far more subtle and independent relationship than one would expect, sometimes there are days that Alextrasza is busy and must attend to her duties, and as much as she would love to have you accompany her... most of them can be quite boring, and you have your own daily tasks to go through. Alexstrasza isn't much for parading you around like a drake with a newly found mate, but she does not hide you either—she simply isn't much of a hand-holder, in the simplest sense.

The quickest way to improve Alexstrasza's mood, were she to seem troubled or feel under the weather is to grab a whelp our of the air—they're everywhere, those little rascals—and plop them down in her lap. She will look momentarily confused, but her heart will instantly lighten at the high-pitched squawk the whelp lets out, Alexstrasza thanks you for your consideration and suggests you accompany her on a walk to clear her mind. The whelp is freed from their voluntary confinement and flaps back to enact chaos on it's caretakers.

Speaking of whelps, I hope you find them cute, because they can and will swarm you anytime you are in their line of sight. Unfortunately, they are young enough not to understand their impressive strength despite their small form and will sometimes grip and nip at you a bit too hard. A nearby sitter—or even Alexstrasza herself, if she happens to be nearby—will scold the horde of excited whelps, trying to get it into their small heads that they must be aware of and have care with their strong jaws and sharp talons. The whelps will give you the largest, shiniest pleading eyes you have ever seen in your life in attempt to beg forgiveness, and it would be a crime of the highest degree to not forgive them on the sport. They would then bite you again—gently—for fun, they love you very much.

Alexstrasza has a tendency to bring you things, differently from the gifts she gives you involving jewelry or clothing. You had once stopped on a stroll for a minute to re-tie your boots—not noticing that Alexstrasza had continued walking—and looked back up to see her approaching you rapidly. Confused and a bit startled by her brisk pace, you ask if there is anything wrong.

"Nothing at all," she replies with a smile, placing something in your pocket.

You reach into your clothes, curious what it was that she had slipped into it and pull out an oddly shaped stone. You blink at the rock and look to her again, Alexstrasza had begun walking again—turning when you spoke. "Thank you...?"

She says nothing for a moment, inclining her head slightly. "What for?"

You raise the stone between your fingers, a flicker of the sun peeking between leaves above you shines it's side.

"Oh, it is strangely shaped, is it not? I thought it was interesting."

Many times you don't even notice, as the day comes to an end and you begin removing your outside clothing in favour of something more comfortable, you do not remembering having seen Alextrasza for the entirety of the day—yet your pockets are full of strangely misshapen shells and discoloured wood. And dirt.

But you can be assured that when the sun is below the horizon and the chill of night falls over the land, you will never embrace sleep without her warmth beside you.

  Ysera

I hope you're not afraid of bugs.

Ysera spends a lot of time in greenery, thick and moist forests filled with bugs and creepy crawlies--though sometimes in open plains, laying on the soft moss, a natural cushion under your head.

You will never for the rest of your life have a sense of privacy in your sleep—Ysera will know what you dreamt of and she will talk about it, mostly because she finds it fascinating what your subconscious comes up with in the dark of the night.

On the upside, you will also never for the rest of your life have a bad or uncomfortable sleep, whether you mention it or not, Ysera has made it her personal mission in life to keep your dreams peaceful and comfortable—if asked, she will simply say that since she watches it anyway, why not ensure it is nice? 

Outside of napping and dreaming—her favourite hobby and occupation—Ysera has a lot of teaching and consulting to do, druids and dragons young and old seek her advice on both important and sometimes painfully trivial matters, yet the dreamer addresses every single one of them with attention and care that’s enough to quell any worry and anxiety in regards to the problem at hand.

But Ysera is not all-knowing, she often asks you for your perspective and values your opinion greatly—don’t worry if you don’t know or understand the weight or intricacy of the problem, sometimes it helps to have access to an unbiased view she trusts.

One day she offhandedly mentions she likes your smell and upon asking for her to elaborate on the strange comment, Ysera would say that among the heavy wet smell of the morning forest, of the lingering chill of the night, your scent stands out and draws attention to you. A smell she likes to follow. You weren’t sure exactly what that meant but at the time you thought it was a thinly veiled insult, or suggestion to bathe more often (it was not). 

You like to think you know more than some how visages work, and you’re confident that Ysera can wear her hair any way she desires when she uses the magic. Then why does she, almost every time you get ready for the day and she makes use of her visage form, ask you to style and form her hair? It’s simple, she does not say it—too bashful to voice it—but she likes the way your fingers thread through the hair of her visage, how you try your best to make it different every time and sometimes place flowers and greenery in it to elevate your newest work. Whether you have any knowledge of styling hair doesn’t matter, she will wear it until she changes from her visage form. 

Despite her seeming unending wisdom to her flight and Azeroth’s druids, Ysera sometimes asks you the most out of pocket, insane questions known to man.

“Why do mortals say ‘after dark’ when it is usually said after light has gone for the day?”

“That saying—if roses are red, why is it followed with ‘violets are blue’? They are not blue.”

“The book you were reading the other day, ‘Unsolved Mysteries of Tol Barad’—why are they called ‘unsolved mysteries’? Do they not have to be unsolved in the first place to be called a mystery?”

You sometimes wonder if she asks these types of questions only to see your completely bewildered and befuddled expression as you attempt to both decipher her thought process and come up with an appropriate answer.

She does, catching you off-guard and watching the gears in your head turn as you try to understand what she just said is a rare change from the composed, wise elders and druids she so often speaks to. It makes her feel more… awake, interacting with something more alive, makes her feel more alive. 

She is one of the the best people—next to her sister of course—to be around if you were to get sick or have a need for quiet and caring, remedies and letting the body work it out is the healthiest way to deal with the common cold or any mostly harmless sickness, so she mostly helps you even out your body heat and soothe any headache or other pain. She is confident in you to handle any small illness but is unafraid to ask for the second opinion of a dragon or druid specialising in caring for and healing sickness if she feels the need, or finds your condition become concerning. 

Overall the embodiment of care and comfort when you need it, five stars.

  Nozdormu

Early on, you had to use every single cell in your brain to navigate a single conversation with this guy. The amount of mental gymnastics you had to do to decipher some of the stuff he says offhandedly is impressive—you were advised to not think too hard about what he says, that the effort is too great for something he won’t explain to you if you asked anyway, but you choose to engage with his pondering and strange comments despite the occasional headache. Which is something the Lord of Time find increasingly more impressive as time goes.

That doesn’t mean you can’t have a normal conversation with him, if Nozdormu truly wants to tell you something or chat, he will. He simply finds it amusing and strangely engaging to create conversational hoops for you to find your way through, it's not malicious... on purpose.

You once complemented the tattoo on his visage form’s shoulder and he has never covered it since, even when he conjures more clothes on his visage form he always keeps his tattooed skin exposed—even if it might be impractical, and if you asked, he would never tell you it was because you seemed to like it. 

As the Guardian of Time and leader of the Bronze Dragonflight, Nozdormu is extremely busy. Not only has he had to lead an entire flight, but the entirety of time to watch for as well—less so after the loss of his titan-given powers as aspect, but his position is demanding. There might be days or weeks where you would not see him, not knowing what he was doing nor optimistic that you would ever know—and despite having no idea where or when he is, you are unfortunately the person most would assume knows and you'll have to become skilled relatively fast at answering the question of where he might be to those who need his attention. 

Fortunately, Nozdormu doesn’t leave you to answer for his hand forever and instead will leave you with answers to give—his definition of an answer to; “where is Nozdormu and when will he be back?” being along the lines of; “he will come to you when the time is right.” which is not technically an answer, but it gets them off your heels for a while.

Nozdormu does not often explain what he’s doing, where he’s going or why to you—nor anyone, really. He has many things on his mind, so much that it is surely unreasonable to assume one being could shoulder the entirety of time on their own, he reasons with himself that it is precisely for that reason he must be the only one to bear the burden of time. Most of the dragonflights operate separately and many of the dragons within them fly independently, but the Bronze Flight much more so. Many of the flight work alone and rarely do they work in groups, the dragons of his own flight rarely or ever speak to Nozdormu directly, even if they desired to do so—which most don’t have a reason for. 

Over time, despite his flight taking considerably less losses than others comparatively, Nozdormu has short times where he feels a strange, cold pit of… loneliness strike him. He often distances himself from the mortal world and spends time gazing into the timeways, sometimes to an unhealthy degree where he would not emerge for a long while—and who would notice? For the longest time, he has been so detached from the ‘current’ time that there was no one who would ask. 

He would wonder, often, what it was that drove his future self to insanity... was it some event in the future—unseen to his current eyes—of losing control of himself in a horrible way? To lose grip of his senses and fall to madness, lose the desperate battle to cling to rationale and grasp of what makes him himself...? What is it what makes Nozdormu what he is? Is it his power over time? If so, then who was he before? How does he know if his understanding of himself is true, that it does not fool him? Unable to see that he has become different before it is too late? Where his morals and senses have become too altered—twisted unrecognisably—to the point of insanity?

It is an uphill battle to get the dragon to open up about his doubts, of the nagging, itching concerns he never allows to crawl far enough to the forefront of his mind to show behind his eyes. You only have vague assumptions of what Nozdormu might be thinking when he gazes distantly over your shoulder—you might never know what he is feeling, and you certainly might never understand those feelings. But it does not mean you can’t try to reason that perhaps if he confined in someone, not necessarily yourself, anyone, that it might help him sort his thoughts. 

As is his expertise, Nozdormu deflects and guides the conversation away from the topic. He does not wish to become Murozond, but he knows he cannot’ alter the true timeline—he will not stop his pursuit of preventing his own downfall, but how far can, and is he willing to go? He cannot’ allow himself to fall to madness—he cannot’ allow you to see him fall. 

You know there is little you can do to actually help him while he keeps this distance, so you stay where he places you—so barely within arms length that it’s obvious he wants you not to interfere for your own safety, but yet somehow so barely closer than most that perhaps, you can find a way to ease his burden just a little. Until the time is better.

theyre my little meow meows

[high-dragon-bait]

wait am I misremembering you made a post about dragon age half alf genetics? I can't find it. I thought it was interesting I forgot the wording but about the traits being dormant and stuff? Idk

Hello! Yes! I did make this post, it was an answer to another ask and I. Also cannot find it because tumblr’s search feature is god awful so I’m just going to. Repeat myself here. The original post was kind of messy anyway so here we go

Dragon Age Half-Elf Genetics Headcanon (aka: I rewrite half elf genetics in dragon age to be canon compliant in a way I don’t hate)

In Dragon Age, half elves work differently than they do in most other fantasy works that use elves and humans in that they do not exist. There are no half elves in the Dragon Age world, any elf/human hybrid comes out looking entirely human and that’s it

I, and from what I can tell the majority of the Dragon Age fandom, are not a fan of this. It’s boring, uncreative, and very obviously just there to explain how Alistair can have an elven mother despite not looking elven at all. In my opinion it’s fine on an individual basis, maybe with Alistair he does just look more human, but EVERY half-elf just looks human? Don’t like that

BUT

Supposedly, this is because elves are very magical and special and humans are not. So, because of this, when elven blood meets human blood the human blood cancels it out entirely, kind of like dousing a fire. To which I say…I still don’t like it but it’s better than “human genetics are just SO DOMINANT they EAT the elven genetics forever” throwing in a magical element at least gives us more to work with, but I still don’t like the idea that human/elf hybrids are literally always human

So. Here’s my solution

Half elves, in the traditional sense, still do not exist. The child will always look entirely human, or, more rarely, entirely elven.

See, when an elf and a human mate, and the child is born looking human, that elven blood is not gone, just dormant. Elven blood can lie dormant in a bloodline for generations before being “awoken.” This “awakening” is done in two ways: when it makes contact with more elven blood, or, the parent is exposed to strong magic

Most commonly, the blood is awoken by making contact with elven blood, usually when an elf-blooded human has a child with a full elf. This is what happens in the case of my Hawke as I like to believe the Hawkes have elven blood lying dormant somewhere in their linage. When my Hawke has a child with Fenris, that child is then born an elf to the surprise of everyone involved. It's not an unpleasant surprise just a "Huh, well that's weird"

But two elf-blooded human parents can still have an elven child. This happens to Miris, my secondary inquisitor, she was born an elf to two noble humans and abandoned near the Lavellan clan for it, claiming later the child died during birth. (unbeknownst to both her and the clan, they all assume her birth parents were city elves that could not care for her)

Unfortunately, that reaction is not an uncommon one, and that combined with the rarity of its occurrence means it’s practically unknown that this is possible

Elven blood being awoken from magical exposure is even more rare, but, surprisingly, it is better known. In fact it’s a very closely guarded secret by the Chantry.

It has been known to happen in circles. In the already undesirable case of a mage falling pregnant, there is a chance the child could be born an elf. It still is not a common occurrence in those births, but it has happened enough for the Chantry to grow paranoid at the possibility whenever its reported a mage is pregnant. The stronger the magical talent of the mage, the higher the chance. It's part of the reason accidental babies are taken from their mage mothers so quickly, the Chantry doesn't want them to realize their child is an elf.

What happens to those babies? It's... unknown. Most likely they are put in an alienage orphanage, or abandoned to the Dalish, though the truth may be darker.

There have also been cases of Templars having elven babies, which are also covered up by the Chantry. What happens to those children is up to their families discretion, the Chantry claims to have no involvement there at all.

Why does the Chantry do this? Because they don't know why it happens, or what it means for the elven race they've spent so long oppressing, and that scares them. They can't predict what would happen if this knowledge was made public, but they are too afraid of the possibility itself to risk the secret leaving their walls.

So that's the headcanon! I like it. I still like regular D&D style half-elves as well, this isn't meant to really be THE solution, just one possible interpretation. I might better tag this post so it doesn't get eaten by the search feature again...

[princecosmosanon]

Currently Untitled Omegaverse Zukka fic idea; the one where Sokka is the Omega and Zuko is the Alpha, also they’re in an arranged marriage

I’m typically a creature of habit, call it being boring, blame my autism, whatever you think it may be, but I generally write Zuko as an Omega in my Omegaverse stories and that doesn’t change. Except for this one.

In which, the war ends earlier, but not early enough. It’s two years after Kya’s death when word that the Fire Nation’s declaration of war has been lifted by the new Fire Lord, the once-known General Iroh. Sokka, Katara and Hakoda are still heavy with grief, unable to reconcile the news with their hearts so throughly shattered. The South can’t exactly turn their nose up at gestures of peace, but years later, when a letter from the Fire Nation Crown arrives seeking an Omega bride for the Alpha Crown Prince, it’s with a hardened determination that Sokka accepts to ensure their still struggling community gains access to the resources it needs.

Warnings: past mentions of abuse of all kinds, Omega slutshaming and Alpha toxic masculinity, racism, and ptsd.

I’ve already explained one side of the backstory just above, but let’s delve a little deeper anyway:

For the most part, canon is much the same with Ursa being forced to do away with Azulon and fleeing, Ozai usurping, and Iroh traveling, mourning as he goes on a spiritual journey. Unfortunately, no one realized how vulnerable this left Zuko, who had already become much of a thorn in Ozai’s side for his general weakness. Ozai is certain that Zuko is destined to present as Omega, and with little regard for his son, he allows some harmful things to happen to Zuko as long as the ones doing it don’t leave any obvious traces. This abuse abruptly ends when Iroh returns and Zuko is once again safe, but only so long as he’s in Iroh’s space, which the prince naturally clings to.

Then the war meeting happens, and while Zuko is still unpresented, his father goes along with the Agni Kai. Iroh can’t stop the fight, but after he has the power to challenge Ozai on the basis of his outright cruelty towards a child. Iroh wins that fight, Ozai is stripped of his title as the Dragon of the West takes his rightful place, and Zuko is now safe though at such a terrible cost.

Azula, shocked by her uncle’s ability to so throughly thrash her father, who she had always believed was stronger, was given a wake up call. She was sent away for a while but when she returned, there was a calmness about her that no one had ever seen before, and a warm strength that had entered her bending that had previously been missing. From then on, she seemed like a steadfast supporter of her uncle and brother, who was still recovering from the trauma of everything happening so fast in his life.

Zuko presented late, nearly 18, as an Alpha, shocking everyone including his uncle who had believed Zuko was a Beta by that point. It was determined that the sexual abuses he had suffered likely stunted his body’s natural presentation, but after he was like a weed, growing quick and strong even over such a short amount of time

It was determined after a year that Zuko should find a mate, and also one that might help strengthen the ties with another nation now that the war had been ended for several years. Anyone of high rank would do, but another royal was best. However, the Princess of the Northern Water Tribe was long mated herself, and the Earth King was a Beta and already had a wife (though it was clear their marriage was also political). Through Iroh’s contacts they received word that the Southern Water Tribe had an Omega of marriageable age that was a child of the High Chief Hakoda. The South so very rarely communicated with the Northern Tribe but this knowledge was at least sound.

Which leads us to the main story: Sokka is 18, just of marriage age when the letter arrives. He’s “made his peace” with his own presentation, though in his earlier years Sokka resented his Omega status. Now, he knows being an Omega means he can have children, but it doesn’t mean he can’t provide for them too. It means he’s expected to run a household, but that means he’s expected to be clever and adaptable. And he’s expected to mate an Alpha, but Hakoda and Katara were always so very clear that it was his choice on who he mated, and so far Sokka had not felt any draw towards anyone in their very small Tribe.

Hakoda is almost immediately going to reply with a negative to the letter but Sokka stops him, telling him it’s Sokka’s own choice and he only needs think on it a moment. Katara is adamant it’s a fake offer and wants to send a very dramatic message back but Sokka insists it’s still his decision first and foremost. And in the end, he decides it’s better for their Tribe. He has no real prospects otherwise and this way, at least he can guarantee his marriage will lead to some good.

Before he leaves, Katara offers to use her bending to basically give Sokka a hysterectomy to ensure he doesn’t have to bear children for the Fire Prince, but Sokka isn’t willing to risk anyone finding out and calling it a betrayal, knowing it would likely be taken out on the Southern Tribe itself. So it’s with lots of frustration and tears that Katara and Hakoda send Sokka on a journey to the Fire Nation to become Zuko’s bride. No one can go with Sokka, as the Tribe has dwindled so small since the Southern Raiders, every body needed for the hunt and fishing, or for tending the small patches of root farms and livestock, or for foraging in the sparse growing seasons. With this marriage Sokka only feels relief his absence won’t harm them further; they’re promised lots of meat and cloth in just the first shipment of goods.

Sokka is immediately overwhelmed when he’s brought to the Fire Nation. There’s just so much around, like every inch not paved over is full of greenery and there’s just bodies everywhere; so many Alpha, Omega and Beta milling about, children screaming and giggling as they play underfoot. Strange creatures he’s never seen before are pulling carts and being ridden, and even his own transportation from the boat to the Fire Palace is drawn by incredibly large reptile hybrids.

The Palace is also overwhelmingly huge. Nothing in the South ever was taller than a single story, unless you counted there being a cellar under a home. Here the buildings could go three, four, sometimes five floors above the ground level. Sokka almost faints from the number of stairs he climbs, but that’s also likely due to the heat. It’s scorching in the Fire Nation, and he hardly has clothing that could be comfortable.

By the time Sokka makes it to the throne room where Fire Lord Iroh, Crown Prince Zuko and Princess Azula are waiting, Sokka feels like he’s about to shatter. Which doesn’t get any better when some Sage or whatever starts talking, droning on and on about political ties and bonds of blood. Sokka is somewhat aware of the darkness clouding around his vision but he isn’t fast enough to stop himself from fainting this time, crumpling in front of the royal family before even all the formalities have been addressed.

Sokka wakes up in a small but open room, a window cracked to let in a breeze and a wet but now room temperature compress on his forehead. Sokka is embarrassed beyond all measure but a sprightly girl, Ty Lee, appears out of nowhere and helps Sokka to sit up so he can eat some plain rice and drink down several sips of water. She explains that she’s a friend of the family and an Omega as well, so it was decided to have her help attend to Sokka before the wedding. He’s grateful for the company but not sure if the wedding is still on after his display. She just giggles at him and says it’s clear he was just so stunned by the handsomeness of the prince that he couldn’t help but swoon. Sokka indulges that assessment if it makes her (and others) feel better.

If anything, Sokka isn’t sure about the prince. He just knew that Zuko had a large burn on his face and that the man was constantly scowling. He was certain Zuko found Sokka wanting in every way, but Sokka felt he couldn’t fully blame the guy. Sokka was pretty buff for an Omega, having packed on muscles as he trained with the other young adults in the village to ensure nothing like the southern raiders ever happened again. And he kept a typical warrior’s wolf tail despite being an Omega. He didn’t have fine dresses or a natural softness about him that spirits tales always seem to box Omega into. He was just… Sokka.

But Sokka was determined to get married to the Alpha Prince. He wouldn’t back down from nerves and put his tribe in jeopardy. But this also means he has to start acting like a true Omega, and while Sokka is up for a challenge it feels also like a life sentence.

There’s a few formal dinners and events Sokka is required to attend before the wedding is prepared. Zuko is always at Sokka’s side for those, but he only takes Sokka’s arm when required and immediately release it once he’s allowed. He hardly speaks to Sokka and usually with monosyllabic sentences. And Zuko never, ever looks Sokka in the eye. It’s both relieving and insulting.

Eventually Sokka confront Zuko for being so standoffish and insists that when they’re married they’re going to need to exist in the same spaces. This only seems to agitate Zuko more and he leaves without defending his actions. He does apologize later but when they don’t have a chance to talk about why.

The wedding comes, and the wedding night approaches, and while Zuko managed to stay at Sokka’s side up until then, he disappears before they head to bed and Sokka wakes up still alone.

And the same thing happens the next day. And the next day. And the next day.

At this point, Sokka is tired of being alone and ignored, so he just… starts doing his own thing. Being an “ideal Omega” has never been his goal in life so he’s just Done. He made it past the hard part, so at this point Sokka is certain as long as he doesn’t truly offend anyone he can start being himself again.

From there I want to explore a lot of themes regarding forced gender roles and stereotyping, and how Zuko and Sokka both have their own issues regarding their secondary genders. There’s also a lot of healing that has to be done. Zuko needs to try and give Sokka a chance, of course, but so much of his reluctance is tied to his own past experiences leaving him terrified of intimacy.

I feel like Azula is gonna be a fun character here too. She’s a lot gentler with her brother and more… accommodating towards Iroh, but she still has her sharpness. Eventually Aang will also get discovered again too, but that will be a while.

[skywalkerstyles]

I love ABO fics and if you don't thats fine. But can you do something where Dragon King Bakugou meets his soulmate?

I BEEN WAITING FOR THIS I LOVE ABO VERSE SHIT YES

Minors Scram 18+

In his clan all the heads of house bring their children to be annointed by the Dragon King when they turn 21 its a right of passage

Basically Bakugou smears oil on their forehead in the shape of the clan symbol, the medicine worker sends a prayer to the gods and that's it

He's bored of it. He does it everyday and it's annoying

He is one of three 'brothers' each rules their own portion of land but in decisions of importance like War, they all come together

So one day when Bakugou is doing this annointing Kirishima brings him word that King Midoriya has arrived from the South for something important

This is where you come in

You are essentially a Dragon runt. You cannot shift, or use much power at all. This has made you an outcast and social pariah all your life

However they don't call King Midoriya 'The Gentle' for nothing

His heart broke for you when he saw you begging outside his tent one evening

He took you in as his maid

It was quite the scandal but he has never been inappropriate

He is your best friend and you are his confidant

Everywhere he goes so do you

Thats how you end up in the hall of King Bakugou The Fire King of The North (his idea of course)

Everyone has always been afraid of King Bakugou, his wrath is the stuff of legend

"Breathe normally." Shasta, another servant, and a jealous one at that glares at you. King Midoriya's favoritism is lost on no one "if he hears you he'll know you're latent and he's not the most merciful King"

Being the runt or latent was taboo not an official law against it but the runs were usually left to fend for themselves and subjected to abuse and even banishment

You try to even out your breathing as you follow behind Midoriya into the tent

It smells like smoke and cinnamon, it comforts you which also confuses you, you're not sure why

You definitely never believed a runt or latent dragon could have a special mate of their own

There were no soul mates for them or soul bonds.

But Bakugoh had felt the shift before you even set foot in his tent

He didn't know how but he had sensed the presence of his mate

This excited him. He'd lived alone for hundreds of years, watching Deku and then Shoto both meet their mates

He had never given up the search but as the years drug on he began to lose hope

Until that sense washed over him

Excitement pounded through his veins as he sensed you getting closer

Kirishima tried to talk to him. But his eyes were fixed on the tent flap. Waiting.

When Midoriya walked upto Bakugou he took your hand, giving you a reassuring smile

You step forward, eyes downcast as you gripped his hand

You jump when King Bakugou let's out a low growl

Bakugou is pissed Deku is holding your hand

The moment his eyes landed on your soft form he knew

He wanted you to look up. To look at him. You have to know. You have to feel this shit too

"Hello Brother. You look well. I'm sorry to come to you like this but we have something very important to discuss." Bakugou clicked his tongue, never taking his eyes off you

"I brought my hand maid Y/N with me. She wasn't here last time, she was ill. But two days ago was the day of her birthing. I know its custom here for an annointing. So....would you?"

He really hates having to do annointings. But this one he doesn't complain once

He reaches over and grabs the basin with oil in it as Deku guides you over infront of the throne Bakugou sits in

Its covered in animal hide with large rib bones of some animal sticking out the top and curving towards them like sharp fingernails

Bakugou taps your chin

The moment his skin touches yours you flinch and he hisses

You both feel warmth shoot through you

You don't want to believe it. It can't be true

"Hey." His voice is gruff but not as terrifying as before. "Look at me little one."

You lift your eyes, inhaling sharply when you finally look at him

Something shifts and settles

You both just know

Bakugou smiles, caressing your cheek with the back of his hand

"Much better." He brings your wrist to his lips, opens his mouth and bites down gently

Deku gasps and everyone else in the tent whispers frantically

What Bakugou had done was very intimate

Sacred even

Something you do when you lay claim on your mate

"You're mine." Bakugou whispers, his lips turned up slightly at the ends, not a real smile but he's trying. "You know this now?"

You're reeling. You never, ever thought you'd be anything but runt trash. Then King Midoriya shows mercy to you and now...

You smile as he brings the back of your hand to his nose and sniffs, eyes fluttering closed as he takes in your scent

"Yes my King"

Bakugou nearly fucking purrs at that

[dgknightblue]

Short story under here, press if you want to read.

She wasn’t all that interested in doing anything with her ugh- she hated saying this even in her head- brother but their parents forced them to spend time together.

So out of all the boring things she’s not interested in but would probably be good at, her brother gets to pick chess.

You’d think all nerds liked nerd things but here’s the thing. She is not like the other bozos that like tech. Her name is Kendra and she is cooler and smarter than all of the other so called ‘nerds’.

She likes to hack and code, but that doesn’t mean she likes other basic beachballs things.

Ugh, she still can’t believe she got caught cursing and has to censor herself or she’ll be ‘grounded’. Blugh, they can’t control her. She does the controlling around here!

In any case, at least she gets to see her lame ‘brother’ get beat and she has her phone so she can work on the next project outline for her group, the purple dragons.

She bristled at the thought of her arch-nemesis, Otello Von Ryan aka Bootyyyshaker9000 aka Donnie aka the weird kid that girl, April O’ Neil, brought to school one day. He ruined everything!

She was doing so well getting into the Nakamura Vault when he’d had to go ruin it. She got in so much trouble!

Dang. She got distracted and now has to delete the line of code she just typed in.

She looked up to check how bad her brother was getting crush. Eh, same amount as usual.

She went back to her code before testing it. Meh still needs work. Her brother, Jason, who she didn’t bother remembering his name until now- came walk up to her nervously. Good. He needs to know his place.

“Hey Kendra do you want-“, she cuts him off with a swift no.

“Uh… I’ll be right back, I’m-“, she cuts him off again to tell him to get her a caffeinated beverage.

So she was alone again, this time looking at her college applications. Having a recorded hurt her choices but hopefully they won’t brush off her obvious genus and accomplishments.

She groaned in frustration as no one has gotten back to her yet. It was just a little theft okay!?

The shout of check mate made her glance and take a good look at the guy that’s actually on a winning streak.

She vaguely recognized him from somewhere, but it didn’t click until she realized he had the same skin condition as- Oh this will be good….

She put her phone a way and went to introduce herself to her newest victim.

“Hey, I saw you out there. You’re really good at chess huh? Mind showing me a few moves?”, she smiled as nicely as she could.

He looked at her for a moment with a skeptical look before shrugging and explaining a simpler move set for beginners.

“How long have you been playing?”, she asked.

“Longer than I can remember! It’s something me and my twin like to play together.”, she tried not to roll her eyes at the mention of his brother.

“Twin? That’s rare, is he any good?”, she hoped not, she couldn’t stand hearing any sort of bragging about that loser.

“Oh Donnie’s great!”, then he smirked before pointing his hand to himself dramatically, “If only he was good as I! He’s never beaten me once!”

That was surprise, so there’s something he couldn’t do.

“Oh and what about when you first played? You couldn’t have been that good.”, she said looking for something.

“Nah, I was awesome!”, he sweated before looking a way, “might have gotten lucky the first few times before having actual wins…cough.”

She made a coy smirk and raised an eyebrow. She placed both arms in front of her crossed.

“Well, I’m going to get froyo if you want to come?”, she smiled easily.

“Sure!”, he brighten up with a smile.

“Cool, follow me.”, she knew Jason would be coming back any minute now and she needed to ditch him quick.

As they walked a way from the chess matches she introduced her self properly.

“Names Kendra by the way, what about you? Champ.”, she glanced at him.

“Uh Primetime- I mean Neon- uh Leo, just call me Leo. It’s nice to meet you, Kendra. You’re pretty cool.”, he smiled.

She twitched at the genuine tone in his voice but otherwise didn’t react and kept walking, ignoring her phone ringing.

“Shouldn’t you…”, she turned the silence on on her phone.

“Nope! It’s not important, now let me tell how I found this froyo place.”, she replied with a little bit of joy.

(Froyo is Frozen Yogurt by the way.)

———-

Bye!!

[siriuslyreads]

Crush by Tracy Wolff: A Review

Title: Crush

Series: Crave Series

Author: Tracy Wolff

Genre: YA Paranormal Fantasy

Rating: 4/5 Stars

Release Date: Sept 29, 2020

Format: Audiobook

Synopsis:

Everything feels off—especially me. I’ve returned to Katmere Academy, but I’m haunted by fragments of days I have no recollection of living and struggling to understand who, or what, I really am.

Just when I start to feel safe again, Hudson is back with a vengeance. He insists there are secrets I don’t know about, threatening to drive a wedge between Jaxon and me forever. But for worse enemies are at our doorstep.

The Circle is caught in a power play and the Vampire Court is trying to drag me out of my world and into theirs. The only thing Hudson and Jaxon agree on is that leaving Katmere would mean my certain death.

And not only am I fighting for my life, but now everyone else’s is at stake—unless we can defeat an unspeakable evil. All I know is that saving the people I love is going to require sacrifice.

Maybe more than I’m able to give.

Review:

I went into this book confused. Not about the book itself but about my feelings for the book/series as a whole. I can tell you whole-heartedly I enjoyed the shit out of this book. Grace was less annoying, and the other characters were much more well-rounded. I could not stand Jaxon though. And I think that was the point, he gets to a point in this book where he is so dead set on protecting her that he ignores her when she tells him that she can handle her own. The whole “damsel in distress” trope is one I cannot stand, specifically when the damsel is indeed not in distress and is far more powerful than the rescuer.

Overall this book felt like it grew up a bit, not a ton; it is still definitely YA, but less in the cringey way that Crave was.

The best addition in this book was Hudson. Obviously, we see things through Grace’s eyes, and we see her fear and hatred of him, specifically because he is in her head. But his wit and sarcasm made this book so freaking good. Add into it that Hudson very clearly was in Grace’s corner from page one and knew she could take care of herself, and he is just wonderful. There is a strange dichotomy between the Vega brothers. Jaxon is focused on protecting Grace, to the detriment of himself, and wants to coddle and protect her. Then we see Hudson, who does want to protect her, but knows that a part of that is allowing her to come into her full powers, even if it is not easy and even if it means she gets hurt along the way. I’ve seen a ton of division between fans of the first book hating this book, and I believe the ultimate reasons is that readers want a certain type of love interest. Some are ok with the overbearing love interest who will drop everything to protect his mate. Others want a romance that acts more as a partnership with both partners protecting the other. The ones who want the first are team Jaxon and probably did not like this book. The latter are team Hudson and love this book far more than the first. (You can take a guess as to which I am, it should be easy)

Her ’relationship’ with Hudson leads to so much world building. Some of it good and some of it absolutely heartbreaking. We got to visit the Dragon boneyard and lose a precious member of the pack along the way. We see the unkillable beast and find out how and why he was made the way he is. And we get to see the Ludaris tournament played twice! The first game I was honestly pretty bored. I am not a sports person and while it was interesting, I just didn’t care much for it. The second game however, when Grace is one her own facing her classmates for a place on the circle, that was riveting, and I was metaphorically on the edge of my seat. Again, this instance brings in the dichotomy of the Vega brothers. Jaxon very much thought that Grace was crazy for requesting the right of her place in the circle. Hudson knew it was necessary and did what he could to help her.

The twists in this book were honestly unexpected (though I did read some spoilers beforehand, I had to know if I needed to stick out the first one ok!). These twists also happen pretty close together and to the end of the book, meaning that there is no break to process. I was so grateful that I could pick up the third book immediately.

I reluctantly read the first book, rolling my eyes multiple times. But ultimately this book entranced me and did not let me go. I hope the rest live up to what this was!

[deltas-writing-corner]

Courtship: Together

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland (Malleus x GN!reader)

Author note: Thank you all for your patience and happy reading!

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol and alcohol consumption.

Previous chapter | Next Chapter

AO3 version

“Really, I insist.”

“And I insist you sit down and relax while we finish preparing your party,” Lilia says as he pushes Malleus back down in his seat; the grand stone throne at the top of the double staircase in Diasomnia’s main lounge room. “We’re nearly done, anyway!”

Malleus tries to argue that setting out a few plates of food or lighting a few candles himself is no big issue, but Lilia skips away before he can get another word in. He continues to watch as the rest of his dorm mates decorate and rearrange the lounge into a grand venue befitting a birthday bash. Every so often, he checks his phone and rereads the last few messages you sent to him. You wrote you would arrive soon and would inform him when you were outside. He was getting antsy the longer he waits. There was even a moment where he was unsure if you knew the way to his dorm and panic-offered to escort you just in case. He snuck out for you once, and he’d do it again if you only asked.

The somber doorbell rings, and he immediately shoots up onto his feet. Lilia excuses himself so he can answer the door, but Malleus quickly descends the stairs and catches him by the shoulder before he can leave the room. “I’ll get it,” he says, leaving no room for a rebuttal from his caretaker. He hears several shouts of his name and approaching footsteps, but no one completely follows him into the halls, most likely thanks to Lilia holding them back. Even as he puts more and more distance between him and the venue, he swears he can hear the elder fae’s playful giggles echoing in the distance.

He picks up his already hurried pace at the sound of the bell ringing again. He’s a bit out of breath by the time he reaches the door and takes a few moments to straighten up and calm his pounding heart before welcoming you in. His efforts to appear calm and collected are all for naught, as he feels his breath being taken away when he opens the door and sees you. While you’re always wonderfully dressed, seeing you dressed in attire that is just a smidge more formal and fanciful strikes a carnal chord he didn’t know existed till this very moment. Black and green are the signature colors of Diasomnia. While your dress shirt isn’t the traditional vibrant green, instead it is a dark and rich hue, he can’t help but wonder if it would be too rude or outright ridiculous to ask you to wear it more often.

“Hey!” you greet with a bright smile on your face. “See? I made it here just fine.”

“Thank goodness,” he lets out a relieved sigh. “I thought I may have had to pick you out of a thorn bush.”

You let out a hearty laugh at his comment as he ushers you inside. He observes you as you look around and take in the decor of his dorm. While the architecture of Diasomnia is a typical design within the Valley of Thorns, his own home especially, he knows from a few off-handed comments that some students find the dorm gloomy and even downright unwelcoming. He supposes the green flames that bathe the walls and windows in an ominous glow can be a bit intimidating to those not used to them, but you don’t appear bothered by it at all. In fact, you’re dragging him in the opposite direction of the lounge and insisting that he show you around his dorm.

“I’m not leaving ‘till I see your room,” you firmly state.

“Why would you want to see my room?” he asks.

“Y’know?” You point back and forth between him and yourself. “You’ve seen my room, so now I get to see your room.”

That sounds awfully familiar.

“What is your name, child of man?”

“Depends on who’s asking,” you answer nonchalantly, completely unintimidated or disturbed by his presence. “What’s yours?”

His eyebrows furrow with annoyance. “It is proper to give your name when asked.”

“That isn’t how mutual introductions work where I’m from,” you scoff. “You’re supposed to give me your name, and then I give you mine.” you point back and forth between you and himself to better emphasize your explanation. As if you were trying to make sense of the difference between right and wrong to a child.

He feels the urge to growl in the back of his throat. “You’re rather ill-mannered, human.”

“I don't think any reasonable person would feel safe giving out their name to a tall guy with horns, wandering around an abandoned dorm that’s seen better days,” you bite back. “You aren’t making a great case for yourself either.”

After his mind finishes playing back the very first memory and conversation he has of you, he gently grabs you by the shoulder and leads you in the opposite direction. “Very well,” he concedes.

He guides you down several long halls, past the other standard-sized dorm rooms and other empty rooms. The large double doors of his room eventually come into full view, and when you turn and ask him if that was his room, you give him a giddy smile when he confirms it is. His room is rather plain. The only personal items he has are a few pennants above his desk given to him by Lilia many decades ago, and a giant statue shaped as the Witch of Thorn’s dragon form. While there isn’t anything in particular that he’s embarrassed by you seeing, he worries you might find the lack of personal decor boring, upsetting even. You have little else in your room as well, but compared to his it may as well be a treasure trove.

“Huh,” you step in and look back and forth, taking in his private space in all its unassuming glory. “So this is what a dorm leader’s room is like!”

The first place that catches your interest is the bed, which you unashamedly fall back on, arms spread out to bask in the space underneath you. If seeing you on his bed wasn’t enough to stir his heart, it would be the fact that another one of your shirt buttons came undone, exposing more of your collarbones and the middle of your chest to his obsessive gaze.

“Damn, I’d kill for a bed this big,” you grumble. “Do you know how much of a pain it is, sleeping with a bunch of full-grown wolves, four newborn pups, and a steadily growing deer?”

“You can always order them out of your room at night,” he suggests.

You fall back on his bed again with a groan. “Believe me, I’ve tried! They nearly scratched my door off and kept me up all night with their loud howling.”

You and your deep, unspoken love for animals. It seems it’s coming back to bite you in small ways. “You’re much more pliable than I thought!” he says, laughing behind his palm.

“Whatever,” you lift yourself and give a dismissive wave with your hand. Something catches your eye, as you look him up and down before tilting your head inquisitively. “Aren’t you supposed to have a sash with your outfit?”

He is, but what you don’t know is that he purposely left it in his closet, hoping you would notice and bring it up as you did just now. The reason and overall style of this birthday suit perplexed Malleus, but he’ll admit that it wasn’t an unwelcome surprise when the headmaster dropped it off the other day. He was actually hoping it would be you that presented it to him as you did with Lilia’s identical outfit on his birthday. However, that one time was because the headmaster had another obligation and handed the task to you last minute. It was the first time Malleus saw you since the end of the winter break, when his love confession went awry. It was awkward and nerve-racking, as to be expected considering how things went. But when you smiled and called him “tsunotarou” (much to Sebek’s disdain), it helped affirm the words the two of you had been exchanging over the phone, that you and he are still friends and that you still cared about him.

As he had hoped, you quickly offer to put the sash on for him when he mentions it still being somewhere in his wooden wardrobe. Your movements are swift and unassuming, but he can’t help the way his shoulders tense up when you put your arm around him to wrap the sash around his torso. Once the strip of fabric is properly secured, you run your hands over his clothes to smooth out the small wrinkles and bunched-up fabric. Your actions feel like a burst of electricity against his skin, even though there were several layers of clothes separating your bare flesh from his.

You casually wipe your thumb over the purple gem on his lapel pin before saying, “White suits you.”

“Is that so?” He timidly raises his hands to button up your dress shirt, just the one button that was undone earlier. He knows you hate having it buttoned up all the way. “I thought you said red suited me best?”

“I still think it does!” you chuckle. “But I’ve never considered you in something white until now. I guess I have to make you a white coat now.”

“You don’t have to,” he insists. “The one you made for me is fine as it is.”

“That’s good,” you smile. “All those years of helping my aunt sew and mend clothes for my cousins finally came in handy.”

“That would be your second aunt, correct?”

You’re visibly surprised at his comment, but you quickly give him a rather adorable smile. “That’s right!” you chant. When he asks you why you’re smiling so sincerely, you answer, “You’re the first person who’s been able to tell which of my aunts I’m talking about without naming them.”

“You speak of them often, so it’s expected that I’d be able to distinguish who you’re referring to after some time.”

“Well, shut me up if I mention them one too many times,” you insist, eyes averted from his own as you fidget with the ribbon tails of his celebratory bow near his breast pocket, his birth month and day were written with shimmering gold foil.

“Nonsense,” he frowns, redirecting your gaze to him so he can look you in the eyes. “They’re your family. If they’re important to you, then they are to me as well.”

While it’s true that you speak or make a frequent mention of your aunts during your many late-night strolls with him, Malleus’s ability to tell which one you’re referring to is mostly due to him carefully listening to each of your stories like they were gospels, writing seemingly rudimentary information down in his private journal to later read back by himself. Initially, he kept a record because your stories about the life you’ve lived alongside your rather rambunctious human family intrigued him. As his infatuation for you grew, he hoped that by showing you he remembers these moments of your life that you’ve shared with him, it would be a clear sign that he deeply cared not just about you, but also the family you deeply care for.

“Honestly,” you sigh and give him a playful look. “You really know how to tug on my heartstrings, don’t you?”

Malleus has done his best to remain calm and composed in your presence ever since he came to terms with his feelings towards you. As always, you shatter his efforts completely just by being your genuine self, open and honest with your thoughts. You seem to relish his red-faced meltdown, pulling him into a comforting hug while also laughing at him. He hopes you don’t think it strange, the way he seamlessly leans against you and melts in your arms. There’s a pleasant fragrant he picks up in your hair, fresh and floral, specifically like roses. He knows you like to make and use rose water every once in a while to keep your skin moisturized and your hair healthy. His heart is on the verge of bursting through his chest, thinking about you using it specifically with him in mind.

Is this your way of enticing him? It’s not much, but it’s working.

You pull away from him when your phone briefly rings. “Looks like they finished,” you announce as you skim over the newly received message, most likely from Lilia. “We should probably head there now before Sebek gets impatient and hunts you down like a rabbit.”

At the mention of his well-meaning, but loud retainer, Malleus and you leave his room and walk back to the venue together. Along the way, he acts bold and grabs your hand as you hurriedly walk side by side. You don’t pull away when his fingers interlock with yours. Instead, you squeeze and swipe the callus pad of your thumb over his knuckles, a silent assertion that his gesture is okay with you. A shy smile adorns his face. When he spares a glance over at you, he sees one as well.

“I know it’s only been 5 days,” he nervously mentions aloud. “But is it safe for me to presume that you already have an answer?”

“Pretty much,” you casually answer, but you still sounding quite sure of yourself. It sends his heart, mind, and body into a hopeful frenzy. “But as you said, it’s only been 5 days. I still have 2 more days left before my deadline hits and I’m taking all the time I’ve given myself.”

That cheeky tone of yours doesn’t go amiss. In normal Ramshackle fashion, you’re going to keep him at his wits’ end for your own amusement. He doesn’t know if he should feel more annoyed or more enchanted by you. Perhaps a mix of both? Truly, only you can make him feel this way.

“Honestly,” he shakes his head in disbelief. “You are by far the most troublesome human I’ve ever met.”

He halts his hurried pace. And you do as well. He grasps your still intertwined hands together with his other hand, holding it carefully like they were as fragile as glass. Your skin is covered in scars, both recent and old, that came from years of foraging and enduring the natural difficulties of mother nature. However, to him, these permanent markings are more precious than the rarest gem or the finest silk. Your hand is neither too large nor too small within his. It sits just right within his grasp like they were made for him to hold and caress as he is doing now.

“I suppose that makes you the person that you are,” he smiles down at you after letting out a curt laugh. “and it is you who I love and cherish immensely, with all that I am and ever will be.”

Perhaps it is in poor taste to repeat the same words he first told you during his initial confession, but there are no other words he could weave together that can equally convey to you the extent of his feelings other than these. He knows he’s getting ahead of himself. He knows that he’s agreed to abide by the time you’ve asked of him. His words are his bond, literally and figuratively.

He’s just so damn in love with you. He’s willing to act a bit more reckless than he usually is just to expedite the days where he can have you by his side and be together with you at last.

He barely catches it, but thanks to the quiet halls, he’s able to pick up the mumbled words you speak. “You’re making me lose my sense of patience, dammit.”

“Young master!” Sebek’s booming voice echoes down the hallways before Malleus can press your comment further on. His impending presence is enough to make you let go of one of him and take a step back to set some space between you and him. “Where are you?!”

He was much closer than he sounded, as you and Sebek nearly topple over each other when you both turn down the same corner. Thankfully, Malleus acts quickly enough and catches you before you could fall to the ground, and you thank him shortly after you’ve righted yourself up.

Malleus looks up at Sebek and asks, “Why on earth are you sprinting down the halls?”

“The human has failed to respond to Sir Lilia’s message, so he sent me to retrieve you both!” Sebek states, a bit too loudly for your liking as you click your tongue and rub your temples to relieve the growing headache. Malleus has assured you that Sebek’s volume is something you’ll grow accustomed to. It seems the day has yet to come.

“Well, we’re here,” you halfheartedly try to reassure the boy. “So can you please use your inside voice?”

“You!” now it was Sebek’s eyes nearly pop out of their sockets. “Did I not give you an hour-long lecture on proper attire for the occasion?! Today is Master Malleus’s birthday, and you look no different from what you look like any other day!”

“What?!” you look at his retainer with utter bewilderment. “I am dressed up! I even went out and bought a damn blazer just to fall in line with your strict rules!”

“You’re not wearing it properly!” Sebek gestures to your rolled-up sleeves and the two undone buttons of your dress shirt. “Honestly, I expected better conduct from you, prefect!”

“Just shut up and walk, Zigvolt!” you fume and push the young fae down the hall, ignoring his continuous strings of scoldings and high expectations of you. “I’m not in the mood!”

You turn back to Malleus, who silently follows a few steps behind Sebek and you ahead of him. Malleus has to bite his tongue as you make a choking gesture, most likely directed towards Sebek, with one of your hands. He puts his hand up in defense, not wanting to get involved in your ongoing argument with his retainer. Whenever you and Sebek are together, willingly or otherwise, the two of you often butt heads. Your arguments are never too serious. Malleus knows that if he gives you two some space, you’ll both work out whatever it is you’re arguing about and go back to respectfully tolerating each other as per usual.

He wants to ask you about this supposed lecture Sebek gave you about how you should dress. It sounds equally intriguing as it does ridiculous. Unlike Sebek, he thinks you’re dressed rather well tonight.

The scent of roses in your hair is proof enough that you’ve taken some of Sebek’s words to heart, even if he says otherwise.

The food is delicious despite its unusual colors. The cake, although baked by Lilia, was fluffy and not overly sweet like you expected it to be. Your biggest fear of the night was walking into a dorm full of faes who are just as headache-inducing and strict as Sebek is, but thankfully there’s only one of him in the entire dorm! Some students were still standoffish and threw you a few too many nasty looks than you would normally tolerate. Thankfully, there were some students you remember helping out of their dubious contract with Azul during exams week and welcomed you with open arms. They followed you around like a bunch of ducklings, eagerly insisting you try some dishes they specifically made for tonight’s festivities. Whether they genuinely admired you or simply wanted to make even with you for your help, they are a pleasant distraction from your interactions with Malleus earlier.

Love is a strange thing. Unlike a deer, you can’t predict its next movements or manipulate it to a point of disadvantage. Whether you love someone poorly or properly, love isn’t the same across the board. The love you have for your ghostly dorm mates back in ramshackle is comparable to the love you have for your family, precious and irreplaceable. You can share the same sentiments for your flourishing entourage of forest animals you take care of. You even have a bit of love for Grim, even if he wears your patience thin every other day with his dim-witted cockiness.

You’ve been in a few relationships before, but they went nowhere meaningful. They were relationships built upon a foundation of opportunity and convenience, not of mutual affection and a desire for lifelong companionship. You’re also a creature of habit, so the idea of breaking your hard-fought routines puts you on edge, even if it’s for someone you care about. There’s also the fact that you’ve sworn to yourself to not get too involved with the people in this strange world. You don’t want anyone, or even yourself, to feel saddened or at a loss when it comes time for you to depart. You don’t want to inconvenience anyone if you can avoid it. When you return home, you just want to brush this entire experience off as a long and complex dream.

But how can you brush someone like Malleus off as a figment of your imagination? How can you simply forget all those nights you spent talking with him, laughing with him, genuinely connecting and bonding with another person outside your immediate family for the first time in a long while? How can you continue to tell yourself that you won’t get too involved or become attached to anyone in this twisted world after you’ve gone and fallen in love with one of its inhabitants?

You love Malleus, truly, wholeheartedly, and for far longer than you initially thought. You love him, but not to a blind point where you cannot realize that loving him isn’t as simple as acting upon your innermost desire. Even if the feelings you have for one another are mutual, what then? What will a relationship with a fae, a royal fae, entail? Few think highly of humans. Sebek is a living example that there are even faes who actively dislike and look down upon humans. Malleus is at the very top of the social hierarchy, while you are on the very bottom; a magicless human from a completely different world. That’s another problem! What happens once the way back to your home is finally unearthed?

You love Malleus, but no matter how you look at it, a relationship with him sounds nothing more than an outlandish fairytale. Your friendship with him is still a rather delicate issue. You aren’t particular about what others think of your involvement with him, but he can’t exercise the same amount of dismissal of public opinion as you do. He  has  to worry about what others think of him, because eventually he’s going to be king, and a king can’t flourish if his people think ill of him.

It makes you wonder why he fell in love with you, the most perilous person he could have ever met and involved in his delicate lifestyle.

“Having fun over here?” A playful voice interrupts your deep thinking. Lilia has one of his arms thrown over your shoulder, a gloved hand firmly squeezing you for comfort and bringing you closer to his side.

Despite his petite stature and his boyish looks, you knew from the moment you locked eyes with him on the first day of the school year that he was much older and wiser than he let on. In fact, he’s old enough that he’s been mentioned in a few footnotes in a history book or two. You even cited him as a source for a thesis essay just for a few laughs. He even has a copy in his room. It wouldn’t surprise you if he has it framed and hung on his wall. He’s a very sentimental man.

“Do you need a moment to breathe?” he asks, concern discernible in his voice.

“If it’s not too much trouble,” you plead.

“Not at all,” he nods assuringly before excusing him and yourself from the small group of boys you’ve been entertaining for the past hour. He leads you out to a quiet balcony and you bask in the cool night air once the doors behind you are closed. Once outside, you take in a much-needed deep breath and lean yourself against the balustrade railing. He quickly excuses himself again and returns with two flutes filled with a bubbly drink.

“What is this?” you ask, swirling the contents around with caution.

“It’s champagne,” he answers.

You give a quick sniff. It certainly smells like it. “Isn’t everyone here too young to drink?”

“Yes.” He clinks his glass against yours before throwing you a cheeky wink. “But we aren’t.”

That’s good enough of an explanation to have you down the much-needed alcohol in one shot. Lilia takes careful sips instead, but once he finishes his drink, he heads back and brings the entire bottle of bubbly wine for you to finish with him. It’s been a while since the two of you drank together. Lilia has an expensive palette, so you’ve quickly learned to cherish each selection he brings for these monthly get-togethers.

You gesture to the dark bottle. “How old is this?”

“Half a decade. Nothing too fancy,” he tells you while pouring himself another glass. “It’s certainly better than whatever it is you brought last time we got together.”

“Unlike you, I like a little kick in my drinks,” you explain.

“Well, I’m not exactly fond of the sensation of my throat burning up with searing pain,” As if you emphasize his point, he massages around his small Adam’s apple. “No wonder you’re so rough around the edges.”

“That’s a low blow and you know it Vanrouge,” you pour the last bit of champagne in your glass before setting the bottle down by your feet.

“How low?”

”Right in my gut.”

“Then I suppose I’ll need to make it up to you over another bottle,” he subtlety suggests. “Are you in the mood for anything in particular?”

“Not really,” you shrug. “Nothing too strong. I’d rather not get hammered in front of a bunch of teenagers.”

He offers a bottle of red wine he’s been meaning to pop open for a while and you accept without a fuss. He takes the empty bottle of wine and tells you to hang tight while he gets the next one. You’re left alone for a few minutes before someone enters the area and settles right next to you. It’s Malleus, who looks just as out of sorts as you certainly look and feel.

“Needed a moment to breathe?” you ask.

“Yes, but I also noticed you were missing and came to find you,” he admits. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” you smile reassuringly at him. “Just out of my element a bit.”

“I’m sorry,” he looks so downtrodden that it makes your heart sink. “I had every intention of being close by you for most of the evening, but I’ve been busy speaking with the others that I-“

“Hey, relax!” you stop him before he can devolve any further. “Today’s your day, not mine. Besides,” you lift your empty glass for him to see. “Lilia is keeping me company.”

“Why is it that whenever I see you two together, there’s alcohol involved?”

“In my defense, he’s the one who offered,” you explain, but he doesn’t seem that convinced or assured. “It’s been a while since I’ve had champagne! And it’s a special occasion!”

“I’m not opposed to you drinking, but after what happened last time, I can’t exactly trust you two to pace yourselves or get your hands on something far too potent than either of you can handle.”

He’s talking about the last time you and Lilia drank. You’re not sure what it is the old man brought, but whatever it was, neither of you could stop drinking it even after you two were well past your limits. You both blacked out early in the evening and woke up with one of the worst hangovers in your life. Malleus knew well beforehand that you and his caretaker drank together. He’s even joined a few of your drinking sessions, despite not being fond of alcohol himself. But he certainly did not expect to deal with not only one, but two easily agitated and out of touch individuals the next day.

You still don’t know what was in that bottle.

“Malleus!” A newly arrived Lilia perks up when he sees the man of the hour next to you. “Have you come to drink with us?”

“I’m afraid not,” he answers, immediately followed by the two of you whining in disappointment. “Seriously, what is it with you two and alcohol?”

“You make it sound like we’re alcoholics. Which we aren’t!” you protest, eagerly watching as Lilia opens the bottle and pours you both the first glass of many more to come. “We only get together like this once a month.”

“We used to share a few glasses once a week at some point,” Lilia says as he hands your drink. “But that’s a bit too frequent for these old bones.”

“Says the man that downed half a dozen bottles of beer back in September,” you purposely bring up.

“I didn’t know it was alcohol!” Lilia shrills. “If I did, I would have paced myself better.”

You look over to Malleus and shake your head in disapproval. Your action makes him chuckle, and the urge to fidget with the stem of your glass comes down on you. He really does a great laugh. You’re not sure if it’s your genuine feelings or the alcohol that’s making your heartbeat faster after hearing it. For the sake of your sanity, you’re just going to blame the wine for making you feel more infatuated than usual.

As you and Lilia steadily empty another bottle together, the older fae feels compelled to tell you a story or two about Malleus when he was younger. Despite the latter’s protests, you insist and listen intently about the many times Malleus singed Lilia’s hair as a baby with his fire hiccups or the few instances he’s gotten lost on his quest to sightsee every single gargoyle around the castle. It’s never a proper birthday party without a relative sharing embarrassing baby stories with random guests.

After the second battle goes empty, Malleus suddenly asks you if you would like to walk around the dorm grounds for some much-needed air, Since he’s the birthday boy, you agree right off the bat, only after you get a glass of water in you to help stave off the wine a bit. Lilia gently reminds you both not to stay out for too long, otherwise, Sebek’s worrisome nature might get the better of him and he’ll put together a makeshift search party. If you hadn’t had a few glasses of wine, you wouldn’t have found Lilia’s comment as funny as you did at the moment. You’re a tad tipsy, but not drunk enough that you feel yourself acting or thinking too out of character or lose your sense of balance and trip over your own two feet.

“So, where are we going birthday boy?” you nudge him with your elbow. “Are you going to push me into that thorn bush now?”

“But of course,” he laughs. “I just wish for further respite, that’s all.”

Just as you’re about to mention that people usually like to step away from a crowd by themselves, you feel his smooth fingers interlock with your hand once again. He takes you around the back of the dorm where the expansive and well-attended hedge garden is located. The dark-colored bushes are blanketed in blankets of snow, and more green fires are flickering atop the lantern poles lined along the stone pathways. It’s been a while since the two of you went on a nightly stroll like this. They started out as either you or Malleus running into each other by pure chance and just going along with the lucky encounters. Soon your run-ins became much more intentional and a regular part of your schedules.

He’s the first to break the silence. “May I ask you a strange question?”

“Of course you can,” you nod your head, admiring the wooden gazebo the two of you have now settled underneath for a moment. “Isn’t that why we go on these walks, to ask each other a bunch of odd questions?”

It goes without saying that, due to your racial differences, there were a lot of questions burning in each of your minds about your differing ways of life and upbringings. Most of your questions were innocent and came from a place of wanting to learn and take into consideration his boundaries as a fae. As you grew more comfortable with each other, thus more open and honest, the more comfortable you felt to ask him more personable questions. However, you usually have to answer your own question first before he gives his response in return. You find that this is usually the case when conversing with a Fae. They won’t give until you give back something of equal value.

“In my defense, your blunt answers are refreshing,” he admits, almost gratefully. “No one other than Lilia speaks to me with such genuine honesty. Yet even then, he tends to shroud his words in some layer of vagueness.”

“My aunts were like that when I first moved in with them. Something about ‘learning things on your own,” you recollect. “But I was really quiet and withdrawn when I first moved in with them. They had to lead me by the hand and pummel me with lots of encouragement just to get me to do basic things.”

“You and the concept of quietness don’t mix well together,” Malleus laughs. “In fact, much of how you describe yourself as a child doesn’t seem to match up to how you behave now.”

His comment, while true and most likely just a casual observation, is treading into somewhat dangerous territory for you. “You really pay attention to everything I say, don’t you?” you comment in an attempt to divert the conversation elsewhere.

“I do,” he admits with an unashamed expression “But seeing as you now know of all of my embarrassing mishaps as a child, I think it’s only fair that I get to hear a story or two about yours.”

He leans closer to you, something you normally do to him whenever he gets all quiet and reluctant to say what’s on his mind. You don’t exactly mind telling Malleus about your early childhood, but it’s not as grandiose or as pleasant as he may think it is. What’s a friendship without revealing a few stories about your crappy childhood to each other? What happened to you is unfortunate, and you’re not ashamed to talk about it, not anymore at least. Considering the state of your friendship with him and the ongoing issue about whether you’re going to pursue something more with him or not, you’re not too sure if sharing stories of your past should be preserved for later or if doing so now is alright.

“Can I ask you something first?” you hesitantly ask.

“Anything.”

You turn your body towards him more, easily noticing the way he sits up a little more straight. The faint chirps of crickets and windswept leaves fill the silent void you’ve set in place. He remains quiet, tightening his grip around your hand, still interlocked with his, brushing the back of it with the thumb of his other. The gesture is small, but it’s obviously his way of letting you know that he’s patiently waiting and encouraging you to take all the time you need to sort your thoughts out. He’s looking at you with that concerned expression of his. The one he makes when he feels as though he’s made some sort of mistake or said something that was ill-spoken against you.

He tends to critical of himself, only because there is a lot of expectation set upon his shoulders for someone of his station. It is during moments like this that you understand what Lilia meant when he says Malleus still has much to learn and experience before he can truly take on the mantle of a king. He may be many decades older than you, but his maturity is probably not too far from your own; well put together than most, but still in need of opportunities to grow and learn some more.

That’s the purpose of these walks, to learn and grow from each other. All it takes is a question. But your question, the one that has been swirling in your mind for days, isn’t as innocent as wondering if his horns have nerve endings or not.

Your teeth are on the verge of biting your tongue hard enough to draw blood when finally, you will yourself to ask the burning question on your mind.

“What do you plan to get out of a relationship with me?”

He’s visibly taken aback by your question. If you squint really hard, your question is almost an affirmation that his feelings towards you are mutual, but it is only a minuscule part of a much greater whole. There can not, will not, be any do-overs for either of you. Before you pass a point where there is no return, you need to make sure neither of you is setting yourself up for disaster later down the line. You love Malleus, but you will not tell him what your genuine feelings are just to make him feel better. If word gets out about your relationship and it’s ill-received by his family or, heaven forbid, his own people, you’d never forgive yourself. Becoming King of the Valley of Thorns is his only desire in life. You couldn’t possibly understand why he would want to put himself into such a demanding position. You still don’t understand, but he remains firm that becoming king is what he truly desires in the entire world.

You’d rather die with these unpursued feelings of yours than to allow yourself to be the reason he loses his unwavering purpose in life.

“A relationship, with you,” he tests the words, the very concept, out loud. As if he’s trying to gauge the reaction of the world itself. “It certainly wouldn’t be a dull one.”

That look he gives you, the one that is so painstakingly painted in so much love and affection that can give you several tooth-rotting cavities, directed to none other than you, makes your heart do all sorts of acrobatic twirls and lunges. Your hands seek out the nearest object to fidget with, a piece of hair that fell out of place from your hairstyle. There’s a moment of panic that overcomes him and he goes to pull his hand out of your firm grip, but you tighten it just before his hand can slip away. You like holding his hand, you realize.

“Something’s troubling you,” he remarks. “Whatever it is, tell me.”

“This isn’t the best time to bring it up,” you argue. It really isn’t. Not when there’s alcohol in your body that makes you incredibly pessimistic and impulsive. And it’s his birthday. You really don’t want to make this day suddenly about you. You’re slowly regretting having that second bottle.

“Perhaps not, but it’s going to be brought up eventually, I imagine.” He gently cups the side of your face and forces you to look up at him, right into those green eyes that have always mesmerized you. “Speak to me,” he insists once more.

“I…” you start, but the words die in your mouth before you can speak them. There’s an instance where you nearly pull away from him and are ready to just book it back to your dorm and forget this ever happened, but he keeps you in place almost desperately. He wants you to speak your mind. He wants to know what’s eating up inside you. He wants you, all of you.

But like his desire to become king, you can’t understand why it’s you sitting across from him.

The edges of your vision wobble, and you know that if you’re pushed over the edge enough, you’re going to start sobbing. You hate crying, especially when you feel you don’t deserve to. Who are you to get all emotional when you’re the one who’s overcomplicating things? You’re the one who kick-started this conversation, so why are you the one getting all emotional? Shouldn’t Malleus be the one on the verge of breaking down? He’s the one with the most to lose. The most suffering you’ll likely be subjected to is a bunch of scrutinization and disapproval.

“You know this isn’t going to be easy, right?”

He reaches up with a folded handkerchief in hand, dabbing the corners of your tear-stricken eyes. “I know.”

“I can take a judgemental comment or two. I just don’t want you to be on that receiving end of it because of me.”

“People will always find something to pin blame on or direct their judgment towards, even if the detail is as insignificant as my decision to be with a human.” he calmly explains. It almost pisses you off that he’s remaining calm through all this while you’re going through many ranges of emotions. Malleus is a prince, and it's fragile moments like these that he’s been carefully taught how to navigate and work through. Now you’re just mad at yourself for forgetting something so obvious and vital. Damn that second bottle of wine!

“I’m the worst human you could have picked,” you proclaimed with utmost certainty. “I’m not even from the same world as you. What the hell can I possibly offer you?”

“Well,” He leans even closer to you, closer than he’s ever purposely been and you’re almost compelled to move away from him due to your nervousness. There was a brief moment where you thought that he might kiss you, that’s how little space there is between you and him. While a kiss from him sounds both amazing and absolutely terrifying, you let out an audible sigh of relief when he stops at pressing his forehead against yours. “What are you willing to give me?”

Oh, he’s slick and he knows it. The answer is so obvious now. You’ve made it obvious well before your first glass of champagne. You’re practically wearing your heart on your sleeves, but it’s not enough for him. He wants you to say it out loud so that what he assumes is mutual is in fact irrefutable. He won’t settle for anything less, you’re sure of it.

“All I can give you is my love,” you offer, in a hushed, almost embarrassed manner. “If you’ll have it. If it’s what you want.”

“It is,” he answers immediately, without a shred of doubt or hesitancy. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted from you.”

If this is truly all he wants from you, then he can have it. He can have every bit of it.

“Are you sure you can make it back to Ramshackle without issue?”

“I’ll be fine,” you reassure him for likely the 20th time. “I’m not that buzzed, and you look just as tired as I am.”

You’re right. Malleus is well beyond himself now. His social batteries are thoroughly drained. He needs a nice, long rest to fully process this long evening.

As he thinks about his conversation with you under the gazebo, he reaches out and tenderly caresses the side of your face. Your hands immediately reach up to tug and twist one of your shirt buttons. He once thought your habit to fidget with the nearest object meant you were uncomfortable. A dainty smile etches into his face now that he knows that this habit of yours was a sign that you were flustered by his actions.

He thinks it’s an adorable habit and very befitting of your person.

“What?” you look up at him with a nervous gaze. “Is there something on my face?”

“No,” he shakes his head. “Your face is all clean.”

Despite his statement, you wipe at your puffy eyes to ensure there are no visible tears left. Would you think him strange if he told you he finds you endearing like this, your eyes somewhat droopy and your voice hushed despite the lack of need to control your volume? You probably would, but your presumed disdain wouldn’t stop him even if you told him off. He can’t help it. He’s drunk as well, though not because of any wine.

“Are you busy this weekend?” you say into his open palm.

“Not particularly.”

“Good,” you smile against his skin. “I have a surprise for you.”

“Do you now?” He looks at you, intrigued by the sudden presentation of a surprise for him. “Is it safe to assume this surprise is my present?”

“Yup, it’s your birthday present,” you admit. “I found something on the island that you’ll absolutely love. The walk is long, but trust me, it’ll be worth it.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” he says, beaming as he thinks about where exactly you’re going to take him. You have a knack for finding interesting spots on the island. Whatever this hidden wonder is, you seem quite confident that it’ll trump all the others.

“Meet me early in the morning, and dress warmly. It’s going to snow a bit.” you disclose before regrettably pulling away from him. “Goodnight, and happy birthday!” you call out to him one last time.

“Thank you! Please be careful on your way back!” he pleads, but you’ve already passed through the mirror back to the college’s main campus. Hopefully, you heard him. If not, he can always send you a letter through his charmed envelope or message you over the phone.

When he returns to his room to dress down and ready himself for bed, he finds that his desk is occupied by a hefty pile of presents that he had yet to open. While they vary in size, most are wrapped in identical gift wrapping and bows. Presents on the larger scale are fully exposed and have a card set over top of it or tucked in between the gift wherever possible.

He opens some gifts before calling it a night, specifically the smaller-sized ones. Most of them are centered on his skill for stringed instruments; new violin strings, fresh rosin for his bow, and even some sheet music for songs he’s never played before. If it weren’t so late, he’d practice a few stanzas. It’s probably best if he saves his awkward first time playing for another day.

Perhaps he can play for you someday? However, the mere thought of more physical activity causes a surge of tiredness throughout his body and he lets out a deep, bellowing yawn. Playing as host for his own party required much more listening than conversing than he had initially expected. He was also juggling his attention from his guests to you, who was always across the room from where he found himself. There’s a great divide in opinions regarding your friendship with him that, unfortunately, skews more negatively rather than positively. He cannot speak for all faes, but he did not want you to develop any poor opinions or experiences with his people, especially his dorm mates. Seeing the small group of first years keeping you company and even show a bit of reverence towards you was assuring.

You deserve as much praise and admiration as he receives, for you are someone who has well earned his respect and his love.

You weren’t exaggerating when you told him to dress warmly. Malleus doesn’t hate the cold, but he can’t say he likes the way it bites and numbs his minimally exposed skin. Thankfully, the coat you made for him helps stave off the cold rather well. Now if only his gloves could do the same for his needle-pricking fingers.

“Your master sure has the gall to leave me waiting outside in this weather.” He looks down at Gunter, the pack leader of your small bunch of wolves. He doesn’t seem bothered by the snow at all, what with his thick winter coat protecting him from the cold air and the scarf he wears around his neck. Not only did you think to make and put on a scarf for the rugged canine, you even secured it by tying the ends into a neat bow. “I wonder where exactly they’re taking me. Perhaps you have a clue?”

Gunter turns away from Malleus, as if to tell him he’s sworn to total secrecy on your behalf. Malleus can’t help but reach down and pat him on the top of his head. Loyal without a fault. He can see why you keep the wild dog around.

“Are you trying to interrogate my wolf?” He jumps a bit at your unannounced and undetected arrival. He didn’t even hear the crunching of snow and rocks from your heavy boots as you snuck up behind him. If he were wild game, he’d likely have a bullet lodged in his heart by now. “Whatever you promise him, it won’t work. He’s pretty tight-lipped.”

“I can see that,” he quips back. “Are the others staying behind?”

“They can’t stand the cold. Not like this one can,” you explain to him while proudly scratching behind the wolf’s fluffy ears. “The woods are still dangerous, even during the winter. He’ll scout ahead and let us know if we need to change directions and chase off any predators. I also promised I’d share some of our food if he came along, so there’s that.”

“You prepared food for us?”

“Of course I did!” you jostle your pack basket to reiterate your statement. “Did you really think I wouldn’t feed you?”

“You never fail to stuff me with food, so no, I didn’t think you wouldn’t,” he laughs. “Besides, without me, you’d end up with more leftovers than you’d know what to do with.”

“I lived with 11 people back home,” you grunt as you push open the metal gates that enclose the front of the Ramshackle dorm. “So what if I make too much food? You’re really pushing it for someone who gobbles it up all the same.”

“I rather enjoy the way you flavor your meals,” he remarks. “And you know that I’m very particular about my food.”

“Is that why you want me around?” you inquire with a cheeky grin. “So I can satisfy that silver-spooned appetite of yours?”

“What about you?” he questions back with just as much playfulness. “Without me, you’d have no gardening partner.”

“Damn,” you kick a twig and it tumbles down a small incline and into the half-frozen stream at the bottom. “and I thought I was being stealthy about it too.”

Malleus erupts into a loud fit of laughter, with you joining him as he sputters out how strange your shared senses of humor are. This right here. This is why he loves you. You just make him so damn happy! Your companionship and the bond you and him have built with each other is all he’s ever wanted, all he’s ever dreamed of since he was a young boy. There was a point in his life where he had nearly resigned himself to a life of loneliness. Now, look at him, out on a stroll with one of his closest friends. Although now you are not only his friend, you are now his partner as well.

His partner. His.

He involuntarily reaches over and squeezes your hand in his small bout of prideful possession. His enamored smile must have caught your attention as you reach out and poke the side of his face with your free hand.

“And just what are you thinking about, your highness ?"

He has to hold back the snort that he nearly lets out. How kind of you to layout the perfect opportunity to tease you. “Why, I’m thinking about you, of course,” he says, throwing a wink in for added measure.

You let out a huff of air that turns misty as your warm breath mixes and condenses in the cool air. “You should think of something else,” you retort, pulling the hood of your dark cloak closer to your face to cover the side that Malleus can see without strain.

“You seem a bit flustered,” Malleus continues to tease you.

“And you sure are talkative this morning,” you harshly say, but he knows it’s only because he’s “pushing your buttons" as you would say. You do it plenty of times towards him and your friends. This is nothing but well-deserved revenge for all those times you push him and get him all flustered. He’ll need to watch his back in the future. You won’t let him get away with this, not without avenging yourself first.

Oh, if only humans and Faes could get along as well as you two have. Malleus was born right at the end of the last war between his people and many defunct human nobility houses. Relations with the remaining human nobility are better with passaging time, but there is much room for improvement before there can ever truly be a declared peace between both species. A relationship between a human and fae is hardly anything new, the interaction between the two races as old as time itself. As overly optimistic and opportunistic as it surely sounds, he hopes that his relationship with you, no matter how it works out in the end, can be a proper example to his people and onlookers of any other kind than the harmony they once had with humans is still obtainable.

“What you said the other day,” he suddenly mentions. “I feel it would be in poor taste if I didn’t fully address the concerns you clearly have about us regarding my status as a member of the nobility.”

At the mention of your conversation a couple of days ago, your hand grips around tight around him for a moment. “I don’t like facing too many uncertainties,” you admit. “It probably sounds weird, but I do better in situations I have some control over. Being with you. Well, for lack of better words, it scares the living daylight out of me the more I think about it. I don’t even think you know what’s in store for both of us the further we get into this.”

“I have some idea, but to say that I fully understand what’s at stake would be untruthful,” he admits as well. When the court eventually finds out about who he has taken as his partner, he will receive some amount of scrutiny and his decision will be heavily questioned. "However, that would happened no matter who I chose to be with, so long as the person was not someone the court saw as diplomatically advantageous."

“Have you even told anyone about us yet?”

“No. Not even Lilia knows, but I'm sure he has an inkling by now,” he expresses. “As childish as this may sound, but I’d like to keep our relationship a secret as long as possible.”

“And when people start to connect the dots, what then?”

“The only way they’ll confirm their suspicions is to confront either one of us,” he answers matter-of-factly. “But whatever difficulties may be lined up for me in the future. So long as you’re by my side to support me, I'll endure whatever it is that is put forth in front of me."

“You’re right, you sound really childish,” you sigh. “But you also sound so damn sure yourself,” you grumble under your breath, but his pointed ears pick up on your comment despite your hushed volume. “I can’t say I feel the same way just yet. But I hope that, whatever comes up, we can do what we always do and just… talk it out.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he smiles. “After all, isn’t that the purpose for these walks of ours? So we may work through these difficult conversations with each other?”

“Yeah,” you sigh, a clear lopsided smile on your lips despite you not facing directly towards him. “I guess they are.”

Just as Malleus is about to say something else, you suddenly stop when a distant howl sounds. “We’re close,” you tell him.

“Now, where exactly are you taking me?” he finally asks you.

“Sorry,” you shake your head. “I can’t tell you just yet.”

“Not even after I asked so politely?”

“Nope!” you beam.

Still curious about this supposed wonder you’re escorting to, he continues to pester you with questions, trying to pull some sort of hint out of you. You’re not usually as tight-lipped as you are now. Your persistent secrecy only excites him the further you two travel.

Apparently, what you constitute as nearby is much further than what he would consider close. While still within the woods, he can faintly hear ocean waves crashing and a few seabirds cawing about. You’re taking him towards the southern part of the isle, clear by his now unbutton coat because of the warmer temperatures and the tuffs of green grass poking out through the half-melted snow the further you take him. The place finally appears before him, with tall brick walls and a metal gate, both of which are covered in thick, frosted ivy leaves. He can make out of a few shapes past the gate, but not enough to confidently guess what they are exactly.

“Will you tell me now?” Malleus asks once more while you busy yourself by giving Gunter some well-deserved ear scratches.

“What do you think?” you look down and ask Gunter. He makes a deep grunting sound in response to your question. “I guess you’re right,” you nod in understanding before looking up towards Malleus and saying, “The locals call it a gargoyle graveyard.”

“Gargoyles?” he says with clear excitement, like a young boy being told that a pile of candies and toys awaits him in the other room. "You took me out to see gargoyles?"

“Yes, but also no,” you say. “They would have been if they weren’t sculpted incorrectly.”

“So it’s a place where inoperable gargoyles are put?” he asks, still intruiged.

“The family who owns this piece of land mentioned that they also put gargoyles in here that were made purely for art’s sake,” you added. “But can it really be called a gargoyle if they weren’t made to act as a gutter in the first place?”

Malleus’s heart always skips and beats faster whenever he’s around you. That last comment you made nearly stopped his heart altogether. He once had a conversation with Silver regarding the stark difference between gargoyles and statues. The boy couldn’t fully grasp the difference, but it seems you can right out of the blue. By the Great Seven, is your ability to tell the difference between a purposeful gargoyle and a mere decorative grotesque really what’s making him go red in the face?

Yes. Yes, it is.

You easily notice this as well, as you comment how his complexion is almost the shade of a ripe tomato, although you’ve been busying yourself with undoing the many locks and chains secured around the front gate and didn’t even look over to him since. “I can see the tips of your ears getting all pink in my peripheral,” you explain with a hint of laughter arising in your voice. You’re clearly amused by all this. “Who knew my basic understanding of gargoyles is enough to set a fire in your loins!”

“Must you tease me at every opportunity?” he groans. "And so crudely too."

“What? Are you having second thoughts about me?” you jokingly ask.

“Somewhat,” he answers back, though it’s only a half-serious answer.

You toss aside the last chainlink and rusted lock keeping the front gate secured before saying, “I won’t be mad if you bail out now. It’ll save Sebek the future anguish when he finds out.”

“Sebek is already at odds with our friendship as it is,” Malleus clarifies. “Besides, I think the boy is rather endearing when he’s upset.”

“Endearing,” you mockingly repeat. “More like a pain in my ass.”

“Give him some time. He’ll grow on you,” Malleus encourages.

“For your sake, he better,” you glare at him for a moment. “Alright, that’s enough relationship talk for the day. These gargoyles won’t ogle themselves!”

No, they won’t, and it’s music to his ears that you want to appreciate them together.

Together, with him.

[writerbyaccident]

Fallen into Fantasy: Part Two (Yandere Dragon Shifter! Dabi vs. Enji Todoroki x Reader)

Part One    Part Three   Part Four   Part Five   Part Six   Part Seven    Part Eight

You had never realized that shackles could be so beautiful.

Even in the dim light of the cave, they sparkled in ways that you had never seen before, a mix of gold, silver, and countless jewels that threatened to blind you if you gazed at them for too long. And yes, only the golden chain around your ankle anchored to the stone wall was a true shackle, but the rest might as well have been, for the way that they weighed you down. Dozens upon dozens of rings, bracelets, and necklaces had been placed on you, threatening to send you crashing to the floor underneath the strain. Enji though either didn’t notice or didn’t care, adding more and more jewelry onto you with the proud, self-satisfied look of someone who was taking excellent care of their most prized possession.

That was what you were, you supposed, a valued treasure for Enji to hoard. Despite the intrigue of you being from another world, at the end of the day you were simply a human, nowhere near powerful enough for a dragon shifter like your captor to consider treating like an equal. Rather than be frustrated or disappointed with your helplessness though, Enji relished it. He loved the feeling of holding your fragile body against his, loved being able to frighten you into behaving with just a hint of his claws. But most of all, he loved knowing that you would have been doomed in this world without him.

“Enji,” you said quietly, careful to use his given name as he preferred you to, as opposed to the title of Endeavor that the world knew him as. “Don’t you think that’s enough?”

His searing blue eyes narrowing down at you, Enji frowned at your presumption that you knew better than him. Although you flinched at his expression, you were grateful that he was currently in his human form, knowing that if he had been in his dragon form, your question would have been met with a huff of flames that, while never actually reaching you, would have come far too close for comfort.

“You are my mate,” Enji reminded you with a growl. “The mate of the dragon king. And therefore, you must be dressed as such.”

“You’re going hunting though, you won’t even see me.”

“Even while I am gone, I wish to know that you are properly adorned. We haven’t physically mated yet, so my claiming scent on you is weak. By honoring you by decorating you in the treasures of my hoard, I am showing the world that you are mine. And no one will dare to touch what is mine.”

“But surely no one is going to dare to sneak into your home,” you answered, knowing even after less than a week with Enji that it was always a good idea to play to his ego.

“Of course not,” he agreed. “But if another of my kind comes to see me on urgent business, I’d rather not have them think that they can taste what belongs to me. Unless you would prefer finally mating?” He asked the question with a hungry smirk, reaching out to caress your cheek with his enormous hand, slowing gliding it down your neck all the way to your hips, where he stroked your skin in soothing circles. Your eyes wide, you shook your head in silent desperation, wondering as he leaned down towards you if this would be the time that he wouldn’t listen to you.

“Well, until later then,” he murmured in your ear, brushing his lips against the crook of your neck. You stayed frozen until he moved away, though you didn’t dare look away from him. Smirking at the way you were gazing at him, Enji slipped off his signet ring, storing it away in his usual hiding spot for his hunting excursions. He began to walk away, only to turn back to you, nearly swallowing your hand with his own and softly kissing the inside of your wrist.

With that, Enji stalked off through the cave tunnel, growing even larger, wings unfurling, and scales appearing all over him. You watched the transformation in a mixture of wonder and horror, still not used to the change even after seeing it so many times already. By the time he turned the corner, Enji was once again the crimson dragon that you had first caught a glimpse of. A second later, you heard the telltale sound, almost like rhythmic thunderclaps, of him taking to the skies to hunt for the dinner you would share tonight.

As soon as you heard him leave, you sighed, letting your head rest against the stone wall and just staring up at the ceiling. You knew by now that he would be gone for hours, leaving you all alone with nothing to distract yourself with. His previous hunts had left you so starved for diversion that you had begun counting the jewels and coins strewn all over the floor just for something to do. Even that wasn’t enough to keep you from silently rejoicing each time Enji arrived back home though, as ashamed as you were to admit it. You couldn’t really help it though, not when the dragon shifter was the only company you had. He was the only other living creature you had spoken to since stumbling your way into this world, and while you might deny it to his face, Enji was right when he reminded you how helpless you were, how much you depended on him. Even without the shackle keeping you chained to the wall that would be true, considering that the cave you had been brought to was over halfway up a mountain. With the way he had been acting today though, you weren’t sure if him rushing back home was what you wanted.

When Enji had first flew you back to his cave, you had been surprised to hear him say that he would officially mate with you only when you were ready. He certainly hadn’t been thinking about your consent when he had taken you in his talons and dragged you to his home against your will. You had said as much to him, only for Enji to patiently inform you that humans were just so delicate, so fragile, that you mate with you before you were ready would be far too dangerous. He didn’t want a broken shell of a mate, after all. But, you realized as you remembered the way he had kissed your neck and the soft skin of your wrist, Enji didn’t necessarily need your permission for him to decide that you were ready.

Your frenzied thoughts were interrupted though, as you heard the unmistakable sound of claws and scales scraping against stone. It couldn’t have been more than an hour since Enji had left, was he really back already? It didn’t take him very long to find enough food for you, but finding enough for himself was a different story, usually taking several hours. Perhaps he forgot something, or maybe he had gotten lucky. Whatever the reason, the roiling pit of emotion in your gut was mixed, one part of you glad that you weren’t alone anymore, and another part of you fearful that you would no longer be able to avoid what Enji wanted from you. But as the sound came closer, you realized that it didn’t sound quite like Enji. The footsteps, while still heavy enough to have the jewels and coins rattle across the floor, were lighter than your captor’s. And the raking of scales against the cave floor was somehow smoother than usual, less like the steady march of Enji and more like a slither. Curling up against the wall, you hoped was right when he said that being covered in items of his hoard would keep any other dragons from daring to touch you.

Any remaining hope you had that it was the devil you knew disappeared once and for all when the dragon came into view, his scorched black scales a far cry from Enji’s blood red ones. Although, you thought distantly as you watched from the corner of the vast cave, this dragon’s burning blue eyes were certainly similar. Said dragon didn’t even seem to notice you though, his eyes gazing only at the treasure filling the cave. As he slithered inside, you saw that even though he wasn’t as huge as Enji, more svelte than bulky, he was still very large. Though, honestly, considering that you had no frame of reference for what the average size of a dragon was, for all that you knew, this one could be considered extremely undersized.  Despite your lack of knowledge though, you were still pretty sure that dragons didn’t usually wear massive saddlebags on their backs.

But the reason for the saddlebag’s presence became clear soon enough, when the strange dragon made his way to a particularly large pile of jewels and began shoveling dragon-sized handfuls into his bag.

“He won’t even miss this stuff,” you heard the dragon mumble to himself. “Asshole doesn’t deserve this treasure anyway.”

Seeing that this stranger was hardly a loyal subject of the dragon king who had claimed you as his mate, you sat as still as you possibly could, hoping that he would leave without ever noticing you. When the dragon gave a sudden sniff and stiffened though, you knew that it was too late. He had caught your scent.

“Well, well, well,” the dragon chuckled, turning around quickly for something so large, “what do we have here? A pretty little human that the mighty dragon king Endeavor is saving for a midnight snack, one flavored with the scent of another world?” Pinned under the dragon’s piercing blue stare, you weren’t sure if it would be better for you to correct him or to stay silent. But he didn’t give you the chance to choose, not when he noticed the all of the jewelry that you were practically drowning in, jewelry that all bore Enji’s scent.

“Oh, not a meal at all then. A new little mate for his shithead majesty. I guess I can expect you to tell him exactly what happened while he was gone then.”

“Not at all,” you answered in a sudden moment of inspiration. “Go right ahead, I won’t tell him shit.”

“Oh really? And why should I believe you?” he scoffed.

“Because I’m hardly a fan of Enji,” you said, lifting up your shackle for the dragon to see.

“So he’s picked another less than willing mate,” the dragon growled. “That seems to be a habit with him.”

“Yeah, so, anything I can do to get back at him in some way, I’ll try.”

“A human after my own heart, and such a cute one too. I’m Dabi; what’s your name, sweetheart?”

Telling him your name, you pointed over towards the shining golden throne just a few yards away. “You know,” you told him, “if you really want to piss Enji off, pull off that sapphire on the head of the throne.”

Tilting his head in contemplation, searching for any sign of a lie or a trick in your eyes, Dabi bared his pointed teeth in what you assumed was supposed to be a smile before moving towards the throne, running his dark claws over it cautiously. When he finally deemed it safe, Dabi scratched at the sapphire, only to realize that his claws were too large and unwieldy for the task. Too curious now to just give up, Dabi shook off his draconian form, growing smaller, his wings retracting, and scales vanishing until he stood before you as a human. Even in this form, his scorched scales were still present, only now as wide-reaching burn scars covering his otherwise pale skin. Despite that, or perhaps because of it, you had to admit that Dabi made a handsome man. As if he could sense your thoughts, Dabi turned back to face you for a moment, winking at you with a smirk.

Once he successfully pulled out the sapphire, Dabi stayed silent for a moment, staring at the signet ring that had fallen into his hand. You were an extraordinary human, weren’t you? Dabi wasn’t impressed easily, but your move had left him with no choice. Chuckling to himself, he turned back around, stalking towards you with his long leather jacket flowing menacingly until he was towering over you, gazing at you with amusement and something darker in his eyes.

“Now that’s ballsy,” he grinned. “You’re certainly something, aren’t you?”

“I’d hope so,” you said, trying your best to smile back confidently at him. “Seeing how I’ve helped you out, what do you think about returning the favor?”

“Depends, what could a pampered little pet possibly want from me?”

“I want you to get me out of these shackles and fly me out of Enji’s territory,” you answered.

“That’s all? You don’t want me to help you find your way home?” Dabi asked, quirking an eyebrow.

“I didn’t think you could help me with that. Can you?”

“I’m afraid not,” he sighed exaggeratedly. “I am more than happy, however, to get you out of the territory of a dragon so undeserving of you.”

With that, Dabi grasped the golden chain of your shackle, and a moment later, both his hand and the chain were wreathed in searing blue flames, melting the metal until it dripped onto the floor, freeing you from the cave wall. Nearly laughing in relief, you failed to notice the flash of greed in Dabi’s eyes as he stared you, the way he so tightly grasped your remaining chain.

“Thank you so much!” you gasped in wonder. “Do you think you could get rid of the rest of the chain and the shackle around my ankle?”

“I don’t have control that fine,” Dabi lied smoothly.

“Okay, that’s fine. I’m just glad to be able to move again.”

“I’m sure you are. Now we should get going, there’s no telling when Endeavor will be back.”

“Right,” you agreed. “You can just fly me to the forest east of here. That’s where I came into this world, so I might be able to find my way home from there.”

Rather than nod in understanding as you expected him to, Dabi simply scoffed coldly, reaching out to rest his hand on the back of your neck and pull you close, so that you were pushed up against his chest.

“Oh, but that wasn’t the deal, sweetheart. I said I’d fly you out of Endeavor’s territory, I didn’t say shit about where I’d take you instead.”

“What are you talking about? Where the hell are you going to take me?”

“You’re just far too fascinating to be wasted on Endeavor or on whatever backwater realm you came from. You need a real male to take care of you,” Dabi purred in your ear. “And I think I’m just the guy for the job.”

Before you could even attempt to run, Dabi was shifting back into his dragon form, his unwieldy claws wrapping around you tightly, leaving you without even an inch to move. He wasn’t about to make the same mistake as Enji, Dabi thought to himself, he wouldn’t leave you with even the slightest freedom, the slightest chance to escape. And so, Dabi ran out of the cave, leaping from the mountain ledge and unfurling his wings, flying away with you securely trapped in his claws.

           Whimpering, you closed your eyes so that you wouldn’t have to look at the fatal drop that awaited you if Dabi suddenly changed his mind, though that couldn’t block out the sensation of the wind whipping around you.

           “Take a good look, sweetheart, cause this is the last of the outside world you’re gonna see for a very long time,” Dabi roared above the wind. Before you could try to answer though, before you could even decide what kind of answer you wanted to give, another roar met your ears, one that sounded awfully familiar.

           Twisting around as best you could while grasped in Dabi’s claws, you spotted a familiar crimson mass flying towards you, growing exponentially larger by the second. Your current captor saw Enji too though, and as the dragon king dove for the thief who had dared to claim his most precious treasure as his own, Dabi swerved out of the way, taking advantage of his more lithe form, and called out behind him, “Careful, now, Endeavor. Another move like that and you might just hurt my mate.”

           “Give me my mate back now,” Enji thundered, “and I will let you live.”

           “Oh, but what’s even the point of living if I no longer have my mate?” Dabi laughed, gripping you even tighter as he flew lower, almost skimming the treetops of the forest.

           “This is your last warning!”

           “You think I give a shit about your warnings?” he yelled. “I never do, and I care about them even less when I’ve got such a beautiful little treasure to carry home.”

           At those words, all restraint that Enji had was broken, and he barreled into Dabi at full force. The loosening of Dabi’s claws was inevitable then, though he still roared in fury as soon as he felt you leave his grip. With the momentum pushing him and Enji away though, neither dragon was able to catch you as you fell towards the trees, your mind giving way to darkness.

Donate to the fundraiser: Justice for Daniel Prude here

Please consider supporting me at my Ko-Fi account

[weasleyslag]

i could probably hit your baby mama

summary: Fred's death has been really hard on everyone, especially his pregnant fiancée. George creeps into her room in the middle of the night to retrieve something, and due to darkness combined with her grief, she mistakes George for Fred.

pairing(s): Fred Weasley/ f! Reader (past), George Weasley/Angelina Johnson

wc: 1573

warning(s): pregnancy, grief/mourning

a/n: Oh my god the tone of this story so does not match the title, but I couldn't help myself. I can’t believe I let a TikTok song about sex inspire me to write a grief fic.

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30626528

     You had been having a really hard time lately. Anyone could have guessed that. It was to be expected. Being in your third trimester of pregnancy was hard enough; it was infinitely harder when your partner had passed away. You didn’t have time to pause and mourn, your life was so hectic now. You had doctor’s appointments, maternity shoots, brunches and parties to accept your pregnancy. The doctor’s appointments were obviously a must, you would never dream of missing them, but the photos and parties? There was nothing you wanted to do less. You didn’t want to celebrate. Fred was gone. If it was up to you, there’d never be another party in the whole world ever again. But the Weasleys and all your friends wanted to celebrate and they were mourning too, so you didn’t want to let them down.

     The only person that had the same mentality of not wanting to move on and bring happiness back into their life was George. Sure, the others had lost a friend, a brother, a son, and that was devastating. But George and you had a bond with him that far surpassed that. George had immediately closed Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes (you had to convince him to not sell the space altogether) and locked himself in his room all day, only opening the door to talk to you or Angelina. Hell, Angelina practically had to force feed him in order to get him to eat. You felt like acting the same but it seemed for some reason, most likely your pregnancy, the others expected you to act differently. They wanted you to be the carrier of a beam of light at the end of the tunnel. And you supposed they were right, the twins you carried in your womb (you had never realized before you got pregnant how big the jump in percentage of carrying a twin pregnancy would be when twins ran in the family) were the one joy in a tragic situation. But that was them, not you. You wanted to stay in bed and cry all day. That luxury, however, was not provided for you. Therefore, most of your crying was done late into the night.

     It was close to 2am when George ventured out of his room one night. He didn’t like to be up when other people were around, lest they see the mess that he had devolved into. He creeped into Charlie’s old room that he had let you have. He was bored out of his mind, having read every book and comic in his room, so he was hoping that Charlie’s would have left some interesting books to read. Something about dragons, maybe, or really anything besides a silly romance novel.

     George tried his best to be silent, but as he tiptoed around your room, the floorboards creaked. George cursed under his breath and looked over to you. Sure enough, you were stirring.

“Sorry, I’ll be gone in a second. ‘M looking for a book.” He whispered, hoping that you would go back to sleep and that would be the end of the conversation.

You sat up, bleary eyed. “Fred?” You had always been the best at telling the twins apart but between the darkness in the room and the desperation to see your fiancée again, you mistook George for Fred.

George didn’t say anything. His heart broke for you. He knew he should say that no, it was him, but he just couldn’t bring himself to do so.

“Am I dreaming? Do you need to tell me something, is that why you’re in my dreams?” Your words dripped with hope and desperation.

George hesitated before affirming, “Ye-yes. That’s right.” He felt extremely awkward but you sounded so excited to be able to communicate with Fred again that he couldn’t bring himself to let you down.

“I missed you.” Tears ran down your face. “Only a few more weeks and then our babies will be born. The doctor said it’s a boy and a girl. I would have named the boy after you but I know George and Angelina want that to be their first son so I’m letting them have it. He’s really torn up, you should visit him too."

“I, um, yeah, I’ll talk to him.” It felt strange talking about himself like that. It was heartwarming, though, that even in this moment, you were thinking about him.

“Good. Just so you know, I remember what you said in our sixth year about not wanting me to move on if anything ever happened to you. And I’m not gonna.”

“That was just a joke, you don’t have to do that. I want you to be happy.” George tried to answer the way that Fred would.

“I would have only been happy with you. I love you. I wish you hadn’t left me to go help Harry and them. I know it’s selfish but I don’t care.” You shook as you sobbed. George walked over to your bedside and put his hand on your back.

“I had to do what I had to do. They needed me there.” George found himself getting choked up on his own words. He felt the same way as you, he wished Fred had never come down to Hogwarts that day.

“I know you would say that. What did you want to come here to tell me?”

“Just that I love you. And you’re gonna be a great mom.”

“Oh, Freddie. I know you wanted a big family and now we’ll never have that. She leaned her head onto George’s chest. “Every day is so hard” You admitted.

“I know, I know.”

“Come to bed with me.” You reached for George’s hand.

“To like, have sex?” George looked around the room frantically, not meeting his eyes with yours. Fred would have certainly jumped at the chance if he was there, but he was not Fred. George wanted you to be given peace but he could most definitely not go that far. Fred would probably find a way to strangle him from the afterlife and Angelina would cut his dick off.

“If you want,” you giggled “Or we could cuddle. Then you can feel my belly. It’s huge now, way bigger than when you last saw me. Hopefully you still think I’m pretty.”

“Of course you’re pretty. Here I-scoot over.” You made room for him.

     He laid down and placed his hands over your baby bump. “They’re already kicking!” He said, in genuine surprise.

“Yeah, body movements during the day lull them to sleep. At night is when they’re most active. It’s a pain in the ass, really. But I’m just glad they’re healthy.”

     George nodded. He looked at the ceiling, waiting for you to go to sleep. Then he could finally go back to his room.

Unfortunately, you were full of questions and affection. You wanted to get Fred up the speed with what had been going on with the people close to him. You babbled on and on about how tore up everyone was. How Charlie couldn't bring himself to leave the country again and slept on the couch every night, how Ginny slept with an old flannel of Fred's every night now, how Percy felt utterly responsible for his death and tried everything he could do to redeem himself, putting out new flowers at his grave each day and going to every single doctor's appointment with you (and read every pregnancy book under the sun, making it his mission to give you all the unsolicited advice he could think off, which annoyed you to no end). It took about an hour before you finally fell asleep, and as soon as you did, George gently removed his hands from you and got up out of the bed, before scurrying back to his room. He slammed the door behind him and faced his sleeping girlfriend.

“Angelina, you will NOT believe what just happened.”

                                                             ***

     At sunrise the next morning, George made another rare appearance. Molly was so excited to see him, even though he hadn’t showered for days and looked ragged. She ran over to give him a hug, which he gingerly accepted. He explained he wasn’t up to make small talk, he was going outside to visit the makeshift grave that their family had made for Fred. He wasn’t actually buried there, but the whole family felt better having the symbol of him at the Burrow and hoped that his spirit had followed. Molly was disappointed that her son didn’t want to stay up with her and talk, but she understood he was in pain and let him go.

Upon reaching Fred’s grave, George laughed nervously.

“So…” George began. He felt silly, what if Fred’s spirit couldn’t hear him? What if he was talking to nothingness. “I almost hit your baby mama last night.” He tried to make a lighthearted joke. A light drizzle started almost simultaneously with his words. He didn’t think that it was supposed to rain today.

    George laughed, taking the rain as a response from Fred. “I’m sorry, mate. Just trying to make a joke. You know I wouldn’t.”

“She really misses you. Hell, we all miss you. I wish you had become a ghost instead of moving into the afterlife. But it’s okay. Although if you still change your mind and do that, go right ahead.” George’s voice cracked and a tear ran down his cheek. “Please.”

[ilikefandom]

Protection: Severus Snape x reader

Genre: Dark Fluff

Synopsis: Severus takes his fiancee, (Y/n), to a death eater meeting

Pairing: Severus Snape x Fem reader

Warrnings: Violence, Threat of Violence, Snakes, Abuse of Power

Sitting in her seat at the banquet (Y/n) shifted her body uncomfortably. Being engaged to Severus Snape was wonderful, however, his friends were less savory. As she listened to Lucius Malfoy drone on and on over his new bill idea for the ministry, something caught her attention. The younger Malfoy was rubbing his left arm almost unconsciously, almost as if his dark mark was new. Bellatrix was picking her nails with a silver knife, stealing glances at the door, and observing (Y/n) like she was a challenger in the colosseum.

“Severus,” (Y/n) whispered to her fiance, “could we leave soon? It feels awkward that the owner of the home, a.) talks of nothing but himself, b.) judges the ring you bought me because it’s ‘not high class enough, and c.) does not sit at the head of the table which remains empty.” She took a deep breath and continued. “Is somebody else coming?”

“Yes,” Severus hissed into her ear, “And when he arrives, apply the occlumency I have been teaching you. He is a skilled legilimens, even more so than I, he will try to gain entry to your mind.”

“Who is he? The minister?” (Y/n) asked with some fear in her eyes, if it was who she thought he was, well, there would be a reason to hide her memories with Severus. 

“Yes and no,” Severus explained, badly. 

The doors at the end of the hall opened and the sound of scales on stone rang throughout the room. 

(Y/n) grabbed his hand under the table, panic in her eyes, “I hate snakes.” She said quietly, shivering.

Narcissa, the nicer of the two hosts caught her eye from across the table and smiled reassuringly. (Y/n) took a deep breath and calmed her mind, so that the panic wouldn’t break her focus. The snake slithered into the candlestick near another man’s head.

As soon as the man, pale as snow, face of a snake, stepped into the room the room fell silent. He slunk, like his serpent into the chair at the head of the table.

“Severus,” Lord Voldemort said, as he looked up at the man in question. “You bring news I trust, and a lovely young lady I see. Come here girl.”

(Y/n) swallowed the air in her mouth and got out of her seat. She made her way to the front of the table and stood next to the dark wizard. 

The tendrils of intrusion tapped at her mental wall and found the door in the side. Memories came through her mind. Sitting at her desk dealing with Draco Malfoy who had used the Muggleborn slur, saying that he is entitled to his beliefs, but the use of the word ‘Mudblood’ is against school rules. Severus, holding her hand for the first time, on their first date, when he proposed, and having a meltdown when his third year class could not seem to grasp the use of moonstone in potion making. All of the memories, mundane and boring as they were, a shield for what she knew of Severus’ Order activities. 

“That is a lovely ring.” The dark wizard commented before gesturing at her to leave.

(Y/n) took a deep breath and sat down again. Severus tapped her on the knee letting her know that she did well. 

“You bring news, I trust, Severus.” Voldemort asked as he stared down the man in all black.

“It will happen next Saturday, at nightfall.” Sevurus stated as he stared back into the slitted pupils of Lord Voldemort’s eyes. 

Another death eater interrupted Severus as he said “I have heard differently my Lord. Dawlish the Auror has let slip that the Potter boy will not be moved until the 30th of this month, the day before he turns 17.”

Severus looked directly at the man and responded, “This is a false trail, the Auror Office no longer plays any part in the protection of Harry Potter. Those closest to him believe we have infiltrated the ministry.”

(Y/n) sat quiet, she was unaware of when the young man was to be moved, she wasn’t working as a spy, but rather another pair of eyes to observe the scenery. 

Another death eater piped in, “Well, they’ve got that right then.” 

The entire table of dark witches and wizards began to laugh, (Y/n) chuckled along, just to be polite, she wanted no part in the murder of a 16 year old boy. 

“What say you Pius?” Asked the dark lord, staring down the table at the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. The room fell silent as he spoke, almost as if his voice extinguished the rest.

“One hears many things my Lord. Whether the truth is among them is not clear.” The man spoke, his charisma and effortlessness oozing within every word.

Voldemort laughed, looking Thicknesse in the eyes, “Spoken like a true politician. You will, I think, prove most useful Pius.” He smiled at the younger man, his teeth glinting in the firelight. The ministry member smiled back, just the slight raising of his lips. 

The Dark Lord then turned back to Severus, “Where will he be taken? The boy?” He asked with conviction, giving (Y/n) a slight glance as she held her gaze on the fire. Desperate to look anywhere but those snake eyes. 

“To a safehouse,” Severus responded, sliding his hand to hers, stroking it in a comforting gesture. The feeling of his, rough, calloused hands on her smaller ones felt like home. “Most likely the home of someone in the Order. I’m told it has been given every manner of protection possible. Once there, it will be impractical to attack it.”

The sound of a throat clearing echoed throughout the hall. “My Lord.” Bellatrix said, her voice grating across the stone like nails on a chalkboard, “I would like to volunteer myself for this task, I want to kill the boy.” The desperation in her voice was plainly obvious, she not only wanted to fulfill his expectations, she wanted him, romantically. (Y/n) almost gagged on the air. 

A strangled cry tore through the room and (Y/n) jumped slightly. Severus’ hand tightened on hers, keeping her in her seat.

“Wormtail!” Voldemort shouted at Pettigrew. “Have I not spoken to you about keeping our guest quiet!” His anger was apparent and (Y/n) was happy that she was not in the line of fire. Severus still held on to her hand as if to pull her behind him at any moment. 

“Yes my Lord, right away, my Lord.” The mousy man in the corner coward as he flicked his wand at the body floating at least five feet off the ground. 

(Y/n) recognised the woman from somewhere, but she had no clue of where.

“As inspiring as I find your bloodlust Bellatrix, I must be the one to kill Harry Potter.” He spoke to her as if she were a child, and, after he did, Bella hung her head in either shame or disappointment. “But,” Voldemort continued, “I face an unfortunate complication, that my wand and Potter’s share the same core. They are, in some ways, twins. We can wound, but not fatally harm one another. If I am to kill him I must do it with another’s wand. Come, surely one of you would like the honour, hmmm. What about you, Lucius?”

Lucius Malfoy who had paled at the mention of his name looked up at his dark master, who now stood behind him. “My, Lord,” he choked, unable to come up with words for the situation he found himself in. (Y/n) almost felt bad for him, but as she looked at the weasel struggling, she had to admit it felt good to watch him squirm. 

“My Lord,” Voldemort mocked, his sense of superiority clouding every syllable. “I require your wand,” he said as he stretched out a poorly manicured hand to accept Lucius’ wand. 

Narcissa looked straight ahead, but, as she sat across from (Yn), the latter could sense the panic flowing out of her eyes.

Lucius’ hands shook as he removed his wand from its cover and handed it to Lord Voldemort, not daring to look the other man in the eyes.

“Do I detect elm?” Voldemort asked, ushering glee into his voice as he manipulated his puppet. 

“Yes, My Lord.” Lucius responded, his voice barely above a whisper.

Voldemort snapped off the handle of the wand, causing its owner to flinch.

“And the core?” Voldemort examined the wand a bit further to exploit Lucius’ discomfort. 

“Dragon, dragon heartstring, my Lord.” Lucius murdered as he looked away from his broken wand, eyes fixing to the table.

“Dragon heartstring.” The Dark Lord repeated, rubbing salt into Lucius’ wounds, tossing the handle onto the table, causing Lucius to flinch once again at his master’s actions.

Voldemort moved away from Lucius, flicking the broken wand at the woman’s body, causing it to drift over the table. 

“To those of you who do not know, we are joined here tonight by Miss. Charity Burbage.” The evil man said, his voice soft, but commanding.

Charity, (Y/n) knew that name, she was the woman that Severus had introduced to her at Slughorn’s last party of the year. She had not liked Charity’s pushy point of view on muggles. Not that she disagree with half bloods, but her approach on teaching was a bit, well, opinionated.

“Who, until recently, taught at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Her speciality was Muggle Studies.” The crowd of death eaters laughed at the woman who was trying to escape her magical bonds. “It is Miss. Burbage’s belief that Muggles are not so different from us. She would, given her way, have us mate with them.”

The assembly of death eaters jeered at Charity making faces of disgust and yelling insults at her. Bellatrix laughed as the body passed by her, making her point of view on muggles quite clear. 

“To her,” Voldemort continued, “the mixture of magical and muggle blood is not an abomination, but simply, to be encouraged.”

“Severus,” Charity whimpered. “Severus, please.” The woman begged, with her eyes, for Severus to set her free. He did not move. “We’re friends,”

Severus stared at the woman with a blank face, his face twisted into a mask of indifference.

Voldemort casted the killing curse upon Charity, causing her corpse to hit the table. 

(Y/n) jumped at the clunk, as well as several other death eaters. The hissing of the snake almost drove her into a panic attack. 

“Nagini,” Voldemort spoke to the snake that had slithered up to the table. “Dinner.”

Severus, knowing what was going to happen next, lunged to press (Y/n)’s face into his chest, a move that was laughed at by several of his colleagues. 

Nagini lunged at Charity’s body and began to devour it. Severus kept his large hand pressed to the back of your skull. And it was at that moment that he knew. He would watch any number of his colleagues die to protect (Y/n). Even if he had to do it himself.

Hi readers! This is based off of the Meeting at Malfoy Manor scene from the Deathly Hallows pt.1 movie. I do not own Harry Potter. Please send in requests and asks! - Author

[rreeaahh]

Noble Chantage | Fred Weasley (02)

CHAPTER 2 - “It’s Queen for you, Weasley”

WORD COUNT - 2,406

SUMMARY - After having a fit of anger, you realize that, after all, some people near you are meant to make life easier.

WARNINGS - angst; flirt; a little swearing

TAGLIST (message me if you want to be added) - @lucymfer @prongsyy @famdomhideout @anywherebuthere​ @garyluly​

“I can’t believe you just said that!”

Laughing, I continued to run my fingers in Cedric’s hair, messing with his warm, brown locks.

“You’re the one who mentioned his name,” I said in my defense, which only made him frown his brows.

I looked down at him, his head on my lap. Cedric Diggory was a handsome boy and every girl on Hogwarts would’ve killed to be in my place in that moment. My index went down to his face, tracing the shape of his nose, stopping to his bottom lip and then going up to the other one. His soft and sweet lips were the ones which convinced me to stay to his side two years ago, when he kissed the back of my hand after walking me to my Common Room. For already two years Cedric Diggory was spoiling me with his attention, far from people’s eyes. It was nearly a miracle how our nearly-but-not-really-relationship stayed a secret that long. We met in the library, and he got my attention with his manners – very polite and he knew to respect a girl. He walked me to my Common Room every time we’ve met and sometimes I could’ve received flowers from him – daisies, his favorites – something very important in my opinion. Mat’ taught me that a true gentleman is the one who knows how to get his way to your heart subtle, without you realizing it.

“And you’re the one who said he’s handsome – I thought you didn’t like Quidditch that much.”

“My father’s a big fan of him, so I guess I know something about him in particular,” I smiled devilish, watching the jealousy growing on his face.

“D’you like him because he’s Russian? Does it have something to do with your DNA or something?”

“Cedric!” I laughed and slapped his chest gently. “Viktor Krum’s Bulgarian.”

He rolled his eyes. “Same thing, Y/N,” he said. “You fancy him and your dad likes him, that git.”

I knew he was joking, putting that much hate on the name of a famous Quidditch player – but he was funny playing the victim and he only wanted me to have a good time with him, always putting a smile on my face.

“Maybe if your dad would see me playing he’d like me too,” he whispered, playing with the end of my hair between his fingers.

Cedric had those jokes – I preferred to think of them as jokes – he wanted to mention his name to my parents, to tell them my sympathy for the Hufflepuff boy.

I pulled out the air in my lungs and looked away from his face. “Don’t start it again, Ced,” I asked him, already exhausted at the thought of that topic.

“Aren’t you tired of hiding?” he questioned and got up, looking me in the eyes. “Because I am.”

“It’s not like I have a choice,” I sighed and closed my eyes. When I opened them, he was still watching me.

“You do have a choice, Y/N, but you’re not choosing me.”

The accusation hit me like a punch in the stomach – his eyes were dark, nearly black, and I was asking myself if he was sad or mad.

“You don’t understand, Cedric,” I said in the same tonality, hoping to make him give up.

“I do understand your family, but I don’t understand why aren’t you saying something – you’re keeping me a secret for almost two years.”

“What do you want me to say? You want me to tell them I’m madly in love with you and there’s nothing they can do?” I snorted, rolling my eyes which made him even angrier, somehow. I guess I have this hidden talent: to make people angry, and then angrier. “Besides, it’s not like you’re shouting out loud how much time you spend with me, or how much you tell me I’m the best in everything!”

He was amused, I could tell by the way his eyes went smaller, in an almond shape. “You are the one who’s telling me to not tell people! You think I don’t want to tell all those gits who are drooling over you that you’re mine?”

Part of his words were truth: I directly told him to never tell anyone, I even made him swear to me and I told him that I’m a revengeful witch, so I wouldn’t forgive him if he’d broke his promise. But he still was somehow wrong. The gits who are drooling after me, as he called them, are the ones who provided me so much fame in a short time; being a nice looking girl, being unapproachable, made me who I am in Hogwarts – so my reputation, the way my last name was known in that school, was because the boys wanted me and the girls wanted to be me. It took me a while to be comfortable with that idea, but mat’ made sure I’d understand something: I’m a Rosier, people would always want something from me.

“Oh, Cedric,” I laughed and I got up, moving in the small compartment to the window and then to the door – it was a strange habit of mine, “Do you think I’m yours?”

The mean smile on my face made him confused, and that made me smile brighter. “What?”

“Yeah, no, I think it’s cute,” I added and stayed in front of him. “To think that you own me, when we both know it’s not true.”

“You know what I meant, Y/N,” he said exhausted, but he knew very well how much he fucked up the situation.

When I was away from home, I was free: nobody’d tell me what to do, what to say or wear directly, so I wasn’t very pleased to hear that he considered me his property in any way. “I know one think very well, Diggory,” I said in a cold voice, “You don’t own me. In fact,” I laughed, “you couldn’t afford me. Who do you think you are?”

He wasn’t expecting that kind of response from me, that was sure, but he said nothing as I continued to walk. “You want me to tell my parents about you? Tell them what? Mat’, papa, this is Cedric Diggory,” I started a fake speech, laughing, “He’s a very good Quidditch player, papa, he’s in Hufflepuff, he’s in love with me, clearly, but oh, Merlin, he’s too blind to see that he’s also a toy of mine!” I ended rising my hands up in the air.

He was frozen. “What?” was all he could whisper, searching my eyes to look for a little sparkle.

“C’mon, Ced,” I pouted my lips, “Don’t tell me you think that I could see you more than a waste of time! You’re nice, don’t get me wrong.”

“You’re just mad,” he said confident in his words, “You don’t mean it, Y/N, you always talk shit when you’re angry.”

“If that’s so, don’t you think that I’d make ‘our relation’”, I drew the commas in the air, “public? At least at school? Oh, no, darling,” I laughed again, finding very funny that idea, “I don’t show off every toy I get, you know?”

The devilish smile on my lips was erased by the tip of his wand,  pointed to my face. “Get out,” he demanded, not even looking at me.

“You’re threatening me?” I asked, holding back my laugh.

“Don’t make me do something I’d regret, Rosier,” he said, now looking at me with a hurt expression.

With a fast move of my hand, I was in the possession of my Reed Wood wand, casting an unspoken spell which made his wand come to me. I took it in my left hand, smiling proudly. “I think you forget who you’re dealing with, love,” I said in a mocking tone, the expression on his face giving me chills all over my spine – he was mad, hurt, annoyed: it made me sad and satisfied at the same time.

“I’ll go now only because I want to,” I clarified and opened the door, “Because nobody tells me what to do, and nobody should point their wand at me, Cedric,” I said in a serious tone, “I thought you’d know better,” I spat and threw his wand at his feet, careful not to damage it, and I closed the door after me, striking it to its frame.

I hated so much that he was right: when mad, I’d tell a lot of shits which were only meant to hurt the person I’d be arguing with. It was a flaw of mine, the short temper, but it hurt me very much to see him pointing his wand at me, wanting to hurt me or at least show me he’d be stronger. As long as I’d have my wand in my hand, nobody could be stronger: my mother always told me that she knew, deep down, that I’d be the strongest witch in my family, especially after I inherited my grandmother’s wand, which had a Dragon Heartstring core.

Even if my words were meant to hurt him, I realized they had something true behind: I knew very well that a relationship with someone who’s not a Pureblood Slytherin was worthless – in the end I wouldn’t have my parents’ approval and they’d eventually find me a husband, something I was still trying to prevent, somehow. Maybe Cedric was a toy for me – a fun thing to distract myself from all the craziness I’ve had in my world. To distract me from my parents’ authority and to give me a sense of leadership. I immediately erased that idea from my mind: my sense of leadership was not given by him; I was a leader, I had people that respected me and I had the authority myself. Hogwarts was the place where I was the Queen, I only needed to remember that.

All the thoughts made me go blind of what was happening in front of me, that explaining why I was hit by a body and than laying down to the metal floor, surrounded by small and colored balls. I was thinking about myself like a God, so that kind of interruption made me boiling mad.

“Are you alright?” asked a voice and a similar one responded before I could even move.

“I don’t think she is, mate.”

I got up, fast, ignoring the pain my ribs were feeling after falling on them, because I didn’t know what amount of skin was shown by my skirt. “Of course it’s you two,” I said in a sour voice, frowning my brows at the sight of the Weasley twins. They were nothing else but trouble and I was lucky enough to have every single class with them.

“It’s just Rosier, Georgie,” Fred said in a bored tone, gaining a slight punch in his shoulder by his brother.

“Are you ok?” George asked in his always kind way. He was acceptable, only a pawn in his brother’s plans, which he followed loyal. Fred, on the other hand, was eyeing me unimpressed by my presence.

To say we hated each other was a big thing: we only wanted to be better than each other. I knew he wanted to be more popular than me by doing all those silly pranks and coming with those crazy ideas, and being in the school’s newspaper was a big deal for both of us. At every big event the little Gryffindor kid – who’s name I could never remember – would be present, would take a photo and then other students, mainly Ravenclaws helped by Hufflepuffs, would write a spicy story, enough to make the whole school to talk about that subject until the next edition. I was the main protagonist when it came about drama, a new jewelry or my performance at the Duelling Club, along with my grades, and he and his twin would be on the front page after doing some crazy shit.

“Good enough to hex your brother,” I said to George, not even looking at Fred. Giving him as little attention as you could was a torture for him.

“We’re sorry,” George apologized, but his brother was fast enough to correct him.

“I’m not,” he commented.

Rolling my eyes and squeezing in my hand the wooden wand, I looked at my nails. “I’m not surprised you’re a jerk, but I think your mother raised you better than this.”

Bringing his family in discussion always made Fred anxious, for a reason or another, even if I always tried to not say something harmful about them.

“I didn’t see you, lawn gnome,” he smirked and I snorted. He got even taller and he found it funny to laugh at me because a nonsense like that.

“Very mature. Where were you hurrying, gingers?” I asked George, out of curiosity.

“Going to meet Colin Creveey,” he said proudly.

When he saw the confusion on my face, he smiled and continued, “For Hognews,” he clarified, mentioning the newspaper’s name.

“We were going to show him our new product, but somebody scattered all over the train,” Fred said in an annoyed voice, looking down to the floor, to the small balls.

“I’m not sorry,” I said to his annoyance.

“We’re still going, we have a few left,” he answered proudly, crossing his hands to his chest. “We’re going to make it first page and you can’t stop us.”

“Oh, Fredrick,” I laughed, making George smile too, “I don’t even want to stop you two from doing such great things.”

He was astonished, just like his brother. “Ok, I think.” George punched him again, straightening his voice – he hit him harder this time, because Fred mouthed a little ow. “I’m sorry for making you fall,” he apologized, doing his brother’s wish.

“Oh, what was that?” I asked, amused, forgetting about the hard feelings between us. “I didn’t hear you.”

He smirked. “I think you didn’t, due to the distance, little gnome.”

I made something which made him stare at me like I was crazy. I stepped on his red shoes, raising myself. I was reaching the level of his eyes now, and it was good enough. “You can repeat now.”

Fred woke up from his daydream and shocked me by putting his hands on my waist, a cocky smile on his lips. “I’m sorry, princess.”

Not wanting to give him the satisfaction of having me speechless because of his hypocrisy, I smiled. “It’s Queen for you, Weasley.”

[atamascolily]

I finished Dinotopia Lost! To my intense disappointment, the main antagonist turned out to be a cartoonishly evil pirate named Brognar Blackstrap, who was intent on plundering Dinotopia after his ship managed to survive the reef intact. Dinotopia is actually a good place to explore the evils of colonialism, and the conflict between utopia and the outside world, BUT “outsider shows up in Dinotopia and causes trouble” is such an overused plotline in general in the official publications that I am rapidly growing tired of it. I would rather read happy utopia stories, which pro-publishing has traditionally considered “boring” because they lack the usual kinds of conflict.

That said, the rest of the crew is more to my liking--there’s a mix of ethnicities and cultures (Native American, Jamaican, Chinese, Zulu) along with the usual Europeans, and they react to their new world in very different ways. My favorite is the Chinese guy, who insists that the dinosaurs are dragons and there’s a Running Gag about this between him and the first mate, Smiggens, who is the only one with a conventional education and a budding scientist. I have mixed feelings about Smiggens because he’s supposed to be the audience viewpoint character and the most sympathetic, and yet there’s enough classism involved to make me uncomfortable. 

You can tell I am a fanfic writer by the fact that my favorite part of any book is always the introductory scene-setting chapters before the Actual Plot kicks off, and this book is no exception. Sadly, we do not see the farmer from Chapter One ever again or learn anything more about him, which annoys me greatly.

Anyway, the pirates kidnap a family of Struthiomimus tourists, and wander into the Rainy Basin, and hijinks ensue. One of the struthies, Keelk, eventually escapes and makes her way to Treetown, where Will Denison and a surly Protoceratops translator named Chaz agree to help her when everybody else is still arguing about what to do.

Meanwhile, the pirates, exercising supremely bad judgement, have also kidnapped a baby T-rex. Will and Chaz roll a natural 20 on their persuasion roll and manage to convince her frantic parents that they’re here to help. This means they get to ride the T-rexes and also get adopted into the tribe (that part is awesome, actually).

The pirates stumble into another Ancient Lost City Made of Gold, where they meet a Deionychus monk who knows kung fu (I swear I am not making this up). Will frees the struthie family but gets captured, and he and the T-rex are dragged out back to the beach, because Blackstrap is ready to leave.

Chaz convinces the monk to help them, and they intercept the pirates just as Will has convinced most of the crew to mutiny by explaining how awesome Dinotopia actually is. Then a crew of humans and sauropods from Treetown show up to rescue them just as a massive tidal wave hits, which is EPIC. Once the waves subside, everyone agrees “no harm, no foul,” and a happy ending is had by all... well, almost everyone.

You can tell this is aimed at adults because the book ends with the T-rex parents devouring an unrepentant Blackstrap, as if this were Jurassic Park. No, seriously, the book ends with that image. I would have swapped scenes so we ended on a happy note, but no. It’s a jarring and strange thing to end on.

It’s surprising to me to see Will without a skybax, but not in a bad way; we get a brief mention of Cirrus, and that’s it, which seems off to me since being a skybax rider is supposed to be such a big deal, but whatever. We also get brief mentions of Sylvia when Will thinks he’s about to die, but no actual details about what she’s doing during all of this. Arthur appears in the second chapter and never again, and there’s some Ship Tease about Oriana. Chaz is basically Bix with a bad attitude (mostly played for laughs). Tarqua, the monk, has potential, but I’m annoyed that he gets the “indifferent to the world” schtick that he has to be talked out of, UGH.

Also, there is a brief mention of Lee Crabb, and I had the mental image of Dinotopia as essentially one big small town, so everyone knows Lee Crabb as That One Guy, which is hilariously funny to me.

SO... as you can probably tell, I’m very ambivalent about the plot of this book, and I still have no idea where the title came from, but there were a lot of world-building details that were very cool, and which I plan on stealing for fic. Many things were genuinely great, and even the crackiest moments were entertaining in the “I can’t believe they did that / so bad it’s good” kind of way that I enjoy.

[beetlegoose01]

it’s all so simple (one shot)

a short fic about Charlie and Albus bonding.

~~~~~~

I don't want to get married. I don't want to have children. I'm happy the way I am. And if you love me, you'll be happy for me too.

Charlie had recited that mantra for as long as he could remember. He told himself in the mirror before he was ready to tell his family. He told his favorite dragon Topaz as he was petting her scaly muzzle.

“There isn’t anything wrong with me!” He bellowed into a puddle, staring at his reflection stubbornly. 

Topaz nudged him, tired of him venting to himself. He would laugh, run a hand through his messy red hair, and continue reminding himself that what he was feeling was normal. Wasn’t he?

His mum had persisted the most. Asking him every time he visited when was he ever going to find a nice young woman to settle down with. Eventually, he had told her firmly that the answer was never. He had fancied men for as long as he could remember. She, and the rest of the family had been accepting. He hadn't expected any less. But then the questions changed. When was he going to find a nice young man to marry and perhaps adopt children with.

At one point, he thought he had found someone. Alexander. A fellow dragon keeper. But he wanted things that Charlie couldn't give him. So it ended like that. Amicably, of course. No pressure involved, thank Merlin. But it still stung, like a burn from a dragon's breath. Except with less blood. And he recovered a lot faster and didn't need to cover it with a tattoo.

When he was a younger man, he had doubts about himself. When all of his siblings married and started to have kids of their own, the anxiety of being the odd one out definitely took a toll on him. Was there something wrong with him?

But as the years passed, those feelings subsided. He was happy where he was with his career. He loved his family. He loved his nieces and nephews and being the 'cool uncle' showing off his newest burns and scars-- usually overdramatizing the tale. And as time went on, finally his family stopped asking. That made his visits less stressful. He didn’t have to worry about them pestering him. 

The summer visits to the Burrow were always a rare treat. Sometimes he couldn't come for various work reasons. But when he did, he was always excited. One particular afternoon, all of the kids decided to play a game of Quidditch in the garden. The adults were responsible for making sure none of them were injured and taking care of the little ones. Charlie relaxed from the back, enjoying the sunshine and counting each child to make sure they were included. Lily, Vic, Hugo, Dom, and Roxanne were one team, while James, Rose, Freddie, Louis, Molly Jr and Teddy were another.

"Hey!" Hugo shouted. "They have one more teammate!" He pointed at James' team.

Charlie frowned. He thought there were enough kids for sure. Yes, Lucy was only four and couldn't play but Albus...

"Come on, Al, you're on the blue team." James groaned, already frustrated from the heat and his little brother.

"I don't want to be on the blue team!' Albus said stubbornly. "I don't wanna be on any team. I hate Quidditch."

Several of the other children looked outraged. No Weasley hated Quidditch. It was in their blood.

"Don't be silly, Albus." Victoire said, looking at the younger boy kindly. "You don't mean that. Come on, we can be Beaters together." She offered him the bat, which he scowled and huffed away from.

"No, I don't want to." Albus shook his head furiously.

"He only hates it because he's bad at it." James mumbled under his breath.

"James!" Ginny snapped.

Albus, filled with rage, tossed the bat aside as he stormed away. It snapped in half from the impact. Lily and Hugo gasped in horror.

"Albus Severus, you're too old to be breaking things!" Harry rubbed his nose tiredly. "Come back here this instant!"

"I'll get him," Charlie offered, nodding at Ginny. "Don't worry Gin."

"Thanks Char." Ginny murmured.

Luckily it wasn't too hard to find a ten year old who seemed to think hiding behind a row of bushes and gnomes was a good hiding place. His heart dropped when he heard tiny sobs from behind the bush.

"Hey bud," Charlie awkwardly brushed aside the prickly bushes and sat beside the boy, who's eyes were puffy and red. He made sure his voice was quiet, approachable. Last thing he wanted was to be as stoic and apathetic as Percy.

"Go away. I don't want to play Quidditch." Albus said shakily. He turned to face Charlie, eyes shining with tears. He seemed to hesitate when he saw his favorite uncle.

"You don't have to, that's not why I'm here." Charlie assured him. "Just wanted to have a chat. Everything okay?"

Albus sniffed, shaking his head.

"Sorry, dumb question. Do you wanna talk about it?"

Albus was an open book, especially to Charlie, who had grown fonder and protective of the little Potter. He wasn't like his siblings or cousins. He was quiet, exceptionally bright but very timid.

"I'm not like them," He whispered, biting his lip. "I'm bad at everything."

Charlie snorted. "Really? The boy who nursed a wounded bowtruckle back to health at age eight is 'bad at everything'? Sorry if I find that hard to believe."

"But I'm not good at Quidditch."

"Quidditch isn't everything." Charlie said, summoning a handkerchief, which Al took gratefully.

"Still, I'm different." Albus said glumly. "They think I'm weird."

"Yes, you are. And that's what makes you so wonderful." Albus didn't look convinced, so he continued. "You know, you're a lot like me."

Al scoffed. "I don't play Quidditch though. You're brilliant, I've seen you play and I know you were Gryffindor captain. Mum told me."

Charlie nudged him softly. "I'm touched, mate. But no, what I mean is I was quiet too. I loved the outdoors, never really fit in with other kids my age. And that's okay."

"But you're so...cool."

"You are too! Well, maybe one day you'll be as cool as me. Though, don't aim for the impossible. Those aren't mutually exclusive."

Albus laughed lightly, which Charlie considered a win. But there was something in his eye that didn't seem right.

"Alright, Al?"

Albus fiddled with pieces of grass uncomfortably. He looked desperate to say something, but whatever was troubling him held him back.

"Is that why you never married?" He asked finally. Then he turned pink, mortified at how blunt that sounded. "I mean- not like you - I'm sorry I didn't mean to be rude."

Charlie chuckled, shaking his head. "S' alright, I'm not offended. To answer your question, er, no."

"I realize how horrible that sounded the second it came out." Albus said, looking down. "I'm really sorry."

"The simple answer is, despite my ruggedly handsome good looks and my charming personality, I chose not to marry." He explained, grinning. "I just didn't want to. I've dated several blokes-"

"Blokes?" Albus' eyes lit up, a moment that was so quick, anyone who wasn't Charles Weasley could have missed it.

"Heh, you bet." He ruffled Al's curls. "I dated, and I found out on my own I'm happy where I am. Just like you aren't forced to play Quidditch, I'm not forced to get married. Of course those two are completely different things but my point still stands. I love my family, my friends and career."

"And...that's okay?"

"Sure is. Why wouldn't it be?"

Albus seems satisfied with that answer. "I might not marry either." He said firmly.

"Eh?"

"When you get married, you become boring." Al explained as if it was obvious. "You're cool, and you have the best job on the planet. So...I think I'll be like you and stay single."

"Well, you're only ten-"

"I might date though." He said hastily. "Pretty girls, maybe. But I don't think I'm ready for that sort of commitment." He folded his hands, surprisingly mature.

"Again, you're only ten."

Albus shrugged, grinning cheekily. "Just kidding."

Charlie couldn't help but laugh. "We'll see. Don't worry too much though. Really you should wait until you know for sure. So...do you wanna play something? Just the two of us."

"Not Quidditch?"

"Nope. Whatever you want to play."

"Wizard Chess!" He looked up eagerly. "Please?"

Charlie nodded, a mischievous glint in his eye. "You're on."

And the remainder of the evening, Uncle and nephew played chess until their hearts were content.