#cant help it sounds eerily similar

[citrusitonit]

pedro pascal sounds like a typa pesto pasta

[tgirl-swagless]

Its movie night! Little sis gets to choose what movie she and her big sis watch this time. Last time big sis chose and it was a total bore... Lil sis is so excited though, always choosing one of her childhood favorites. Its not often she gets the chance to watch them again, especially as a family like they used to. Ever since she and her big sis moved in together, its like she feels alive again.

Lil sis puts the disc of Scooby Doo and the Witch's Ghost in the old CRT they have just for older movies like this. She was always enamored by the hex girls, who look eerily similar to her big sis now. Her big sis never left her goth phase, so i guess it wasn't ever really a phase. Either way, the movie starts and the sisters get all cozy cuddled together. Big sis wearing a baggy t-shirt and booty shorts and lil sis wearing an oversized hoodie and panties.

Big sis finds it hard to hide her erection with the way that lil sis teases, intentionally or not. But the way she moves around the apartment, how she bent over to insert the movie, the way she looks up to her big sis, and just how slutty she always dresses when staying home. She just cant help but blush and think of the ways her lil sis is so beautiful, cute, and sexy. Big sis quickly pulls a throw pillow over her crotch, hoping lil sis doesn't notice. She was always pretty oblivious.

About halfway in, after the hex girls rehearsal scene, lil sis lets out a yawn and lays her head on her big sis's lap, trying to make her head comfy on top of the pillow and failing to do so. Its raised up just a bit too much making it pretty uncomfy. Lil sis moments later ends up grabbing the pillow and throwing it to the floor and laying her head back down with a content sigh, not bothering to look where exactly her head is landing. She is just happy to have her head in her big sister's lap. Her head hits her big sis's hard cock and soft thigh and big sis lets out a very small yelp, but lil sis doesn't appear to notice still through the sound of the movie. Or maybe, big sis thinks, she is playing coy, doing this intentionally. There is no way lil sis doesn't know how turned on she is at this point. Her cock is hard against the back of her lil sister's head for pete's sake. Could she actually be doing this on purpose?

Big sis's mind drifts. She can't keep herself from thinking of turning her lil sis around to face her and rubbing her throbbing cock across her face. She wants so desperately to grab her lil sis by her hair and shove lil sis's mouth down onto her cock. Big sis nearly lets out a moan at the thought of it all but just barely catches herself, bringing her hand up to cover her mouth.

Lil sis moves a little to look up at her big sis's face, seeing her cover her mouth. A couple seconds later, big sis removes her hand. Eyes are all hazy and breathing heavily.

"Are you ok?" asks lil sis all sweet and innocently, unaware of just how flustered big sis truly is.

Big sis looks down, her face completely flushed except for her bright red cheeks. "I-I'm ok, yeah." She forces down a gulp of accumulated saliva and lets out a sigh.

Lil sis shifts a little more and feels something wet on her cheek. She looks over a little more and notices a rather large spot on her big sis's shorts right where the tip of her rock hard shaft is. Lil sis blushes and starts to get hard, herself. What could her big sis have been thinking about? Does she feel the same way about her lil sis as she does with her big sis? The thought greatly excites her. Does her big sis want her lil sis as much as she has wanted her big sis? Her mind races.

Lil sis lifts herself up a little to meet the hazy gaze of her big sister. Her big sis tries to avoid looking her lil sis in the eyes. She snaps out of her haze if only for a moment to shame herself for her thoughts. Thats her little sister! To think of using her pretty face for her own pleasure? Big sis tries to get up but is locked in place by her little sister. She won't budge. She seemed so small just a moment ago, but now it feels as if her lil sis is towering over her.

Lil sis's mind rushes with more depraved thoughts as she stares into her big sis's eyes. She thinks to herself, this is it. This is my chance. All the teasing and hoping, i have to take action. Lil sis reaches for her big sis's shorts and pulls the front down. Big sis lets out a moan and tries to get the words out, "please, no, we can't, its not right." But its futile. Big sis glaces over at her little sis's underwear, which are now visible after her hoodie rode up from the repositioning. Lil sis's petite dick is just barely poking out the top of her panties. Her lil sis was just as needy as she was, just as horny for her as she was for her sister. It didn't take much for big sis's cock to completely bounce out of her shorts. Her little sis's breath was so warm and tantalizing, big sis lets out a loud moan. She cant hold herself back anymore, the line has been crossed at light speed with no return in sight. Next thing she knows, her sister is taking her entire shaft down her throat while moaning so sweetly. Big sis grabs her head with both hands and starts thrusting into her lil sis. Lil sis humps at the air, desperately trying to get any friction on her hard cock. It doesn't take much at this point for big sis to cum. She moans her little sister's name with each remaining thrust, only taking a few more to finish, pumping her lil sis's mouth full of her hot cum. Big sis's mind is gone, her hands pushing down hard on lil sis's head, pushing ever so more with each spasm.

Eventually, big sis's grip lessens and lil sis is able to come up. Lil sis takes a big gasp of air as her big sis's cum drips from her agape mouth. Her eyes are so clearly full of love for her big sister. She shoves her head back down on to her big sister's sensitive cock. Her moans much more intense now as her little sister continues to suck her cock. Where the hell did she learn to do this, she thinks to herself.

"Fuck! Aaahh, aah, aah, p-please, sis, aah, it's too much, please!" Big sis so badly wants to say stop, but something in her is keeping her from letting it out. Maybe the pure pleasure of it all, maybe her love for her little sis, maybe because she has secretly wanted this for ages. Either way, lil sis simply picks up the speed at the sound of her big sister's pleas. Lil sis starts moaning even more as just the feeling of her big sis's cock deep in her mouth is enough to get her to cum. She starts spasming and shaking as she reaches her orgasm, trying her best to not slow down. Her little impotent dick lets out a few drops of cum. Her big sis's dick starts to throb again, all the more turned on by the sight and sound of her little sister orgasming on her, and she too reaches her second orgasm. Lil sis's mouth is again filled with her big sister's cum.

Both sisters have a small spasm every few moments as they try to find themselves again. Big sis looks down to her little sister. Her cum covers much of her mouth. She has never seen her little sis in such a way, she is overcome with emotion. Big sis wraps her arms around her sister tight and pulls her up and in for a deep kiss. Lil sis wraps her arms around big sis's neck. Big sis can thoroughly taste her own cum as the sisters intertwine their tongues. They kiss for what feels like ages. They have no idea how long ago the movie ended, but it has been back on the title screen for some time now.

They again look into each other's eyes. Little sis says, "I've wanted your cock for so long, big sis..." and it all becomes so clear to big sis. All the ways lil sis would tease her, it was undoubtedly on purpose. The way she took control, it was so obvious now. She almost feels silly for not noticing it sooner.

"You have no idea how much i needed you, little sis. Your mouth felt better than any other's ever has," big sis says with short whispery breaths.

The two sisters, still on the couch, cuddle closer than they ever have before without a care for how sweaty and cum stained they are.

Big sis spoons her little sis as she says, "there's no going back from this, you know..."

Lil sis lets out a giggle and replies, "I dont want to go back. I love you, big sis."

"I love you too," big sis says with a loving high pitch. The two slowly drift off to sleep, basking in the glow of the CRT.

[minkieater]

tace omg omg new lore abt my fav boy (kicks legs giddily)

gahdamn I KNEW i had read moirai somewhere but this and joong referring nana as supernatural beings oh wow... this reminds me there are 3 goddesses in three fates, and they also are called triumph of death? or the three times joong met (sort of interacted?)or nana tweaked his brain chemicals in a way, they can be the three sisters, clotho the spinner, lachesis the alotter and altropos the cutter of life thread. MAYBE im reading into the symbolism too much but literature is about each interpretation to its own and reading between the lines (im more worried abt sounding confusing and dumb but MEHHHH i wanna talk abt this so i will) you really ate with the symbolism (im a whore for that istg)

okay them sharing the same universe gives me hope because the last bit showcased immense mental strength of hongjoong despite the regression. and his values are so similar with captain irl i cant help but really really keep this story close to me.

ZORO ZORO ZORO DHEHAKGDJDHDJBR I JUST REMEMBERED JOONGIE BOY HAD HIS EYE ON HIM ALWAYSHDGEHVEBE YOURE SO EVIL WITH THAT i was like searching wikifandom who the hell is noa then gave up.

i think if joongie boy had confronted nana, which would make his walls fall more further than he wanted to. far from his comfort zone to even build it back up, and i can agree with that because sometimes i would just pschewww away from a situation because confronting it just another mental breakdown.

i was eerily content with the ending maybe thats why i never pointed out that they should've just talked about labels and all that jazz. (am i stupid, or am i single tune in to find out).

MY JOONGIE BOY IM SOS SOSKDO PROUD OF HIM ☹️☹️ I SEE MYSELF IN HIM😞😞😞😞💘 THANK YOU TACE FOR WRITING THIS (scoops up melted heart matter and gives it to you) 🫂 city boy!joongie will keep me company for the rest of my adulthood

you’re not reading into the symbolism too much at ALL its all about your take on it and what makes sense to you 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

i’m obsessed with how much you ARE reading into it genuinely this message literally made me want to giggle like a school girl im so happy omg

when i first got into atz mingi immediately pulled my ass under (i am a simple woman i love one man) but hongjoong… i am obsessed with him. my soul sister i see so much of myself in him sometimes, the big sister in me can’t help but read into everything he does and pick apart every part of his personality, i have no outlet except writing to bring all of these scenarios i think up about him into fruition. captain joongie is so layered i adore him i need to sit down and have a conversation with him to unravel each one, my feelings for him pour into each piece i write abt him (ill shut up i can talk about him forever)

i am also still a simple woman with my love for zoro, i love big man 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️ he follows me everywhere and i keep him close to me always (so valid for searching for a noa. i couldn’t name him zoro its too OBVIOUS)

i honestly wonder if joongie ever would talk to nana, im unsure if it fits his personality to leave himself so vulnerable, to inevitably admit his feelings through what could be a simple conversation 😔 i was also comfortable with the ending i feel like it made sense but they also work together, they’ll see each other often & there’s no way they just ignore each other in the hallways 😭 at least i hope not tbh joongie might end up walking past her like he did in the lobby IDK

i also see myself in him we are similar and it makes sense that we both feel so many things toward him!!! thank you so much for reading it and loving my boy as much as i do<3 city joongie will live inside me forever

[ferinehuntressmoved]

Eyes flicked back to Wolf, as she sharpened her eyes slightly noticing no shadow around the light. She lowered her pen slightly, canting her head to peek around the dog. It was a curious feature, something that left more questions on Caitlyn's mind though she tried to remind herself that was not her focus at the time. Focus, she whispered in her mind, as she brushed her tongue against her fang briefly before Lamb started to speak again.

"Well, it doesn't hurt to have a little bit of help and I'm more than willing to offer what assistance I can give," Caitlyn agreed but the way Lamb spoke her full name sounded different than how others spoke. Almost as if Lamb knew her. Maybe she read into this too much as she saw something move out the corner of her eye and saw Wolf looking into a small set of mirrors. Even Caitlyn couldn't stop the smile on her lips, how curious and almost sweet it appeared how the dog investigated the mirror. But that smile instantly fell as her lips parted and stared as the dog floated up to stare into the mirror.

The movement of the dog eerily similar to that of Wolf, when she met him months ago. Her eyes flicked between Lamb and Wolf. There was no denying it any longer; this had to be the two she met. They did not look the same but it had to be the same. Her mind snapped back to Lamb, and the way she spoke only continued to affirm all her notes to this being Kindred.

"If you are who I think you are," Caitlyn started, setting the feather pen down on her notebook, and turning her hand slightly to the left. "I'm not sure how exactly I can be of help except when I've taken other people out," Caitlyn didn't have a reason to hide it, she had killed before. sometimes there was no other choice, not when she has been put into situations where she had to. "But, I will help the best I can," Caitlyn picked up the pen and started to etch notes down.

Tapping the feather up against her lip, she contemplated a few things. "Do you know where this mark was last? And when did this feeling of hiding come to be? Do you know how?" she asked, extending the questions to both of them, as she looked toward the smaller one in front of her. "Whatever you can offer can help me find this mark for you easier, or at least provide you whatever leads I can give,"

Lamb took note of Caitlyn's concern as Wolf's ghostly body graced the lamp. It was a strange device indeed. Metal flowers encased in pink seemed to trap a pulsing rose-red light, which seemed to be its own power source. The sweet ambience of it made Lamb think of the sky when dusk had not yet settled into the night or when the first rays of the sun kissed the night to chase the darkness away.

"Wolf", Lamb spoke, "Watch what you are doing as to not break anything. Those items seem to be of sentimental value for Caitlyn."

Wolf halted and turned his head. His body did not fully cast a shadow even as he stood behind the lamp, which kept shimmering on and off. He asked: "What is sentimental, Lamb?"

"It is an item where your heart lives, Wolf. Something, which reminds you of someone dear who is gone or far away."

Lamb's head gracefully pulled back to look at Caitlyn as she settled back down. Wolf continued to rummage around. He left all the talking to her. Explaining things had never been the emotional beast's strong suit. A soft puff of frosty mist and starlight escaped Lamb's lips as she sighed in relief at being allowed to use the plural. This would make things indeed a lot easier.

Lamb said gingerly: "We are not expecting you to solve our problem for us. Truth be told: We have mostly handled our affairs by ourselves, so these are uncharted waters for both of us. You will already do us a great service if you can provide us with a lead, Caitlyn Kiramman."

Wolf hadn't noticed that Caitlyn was watching him again. Having spotted some sort of reflective surface on the upper shelf, the brutal side of death temporarily forgot that he was supposed to stick close to the ground and flew up to inspect the surface. Turned out it was a shining square of glass, which showed Wolf his reflection. His ears twitched and red glowing eyes shone in excitement. He missed his blue. What had Lamb called those items? Mirrors! That was it. Mirrors.

Lamb tapped a long, finely clawed finger against her chin as she gazed up, pondering how to best explain the issue without revealing who she was. It happened rarely that the Kindred masked themselves more than they did anyhow. Mostly because Wolf's impatience and short-tracked mind meant that he hated disguises.

Lamb said: "We have this responsibility and duty. It is something, which nobody likes, but it's a job, which must be done. We do not take pride in our work, nor do we detest it. We see it as a natural conclusion after all each story comes to an end eventually. Unfortunately, our latest... mark has been eluding and evading us. We believe they are using something to hide from us. Their story has extended way beyond its natural conclusion. We wish to amend this oversight."

[devildomdisaster]

I'm sending this assuming that requests are open. If not, feel free to ignore this, haha

Can I request the bros reacting to mc getting annoyed and worried during a thunderstorm, and when they ask why mc answers with something akin to "my dog is terrified of thunderstorms, so it's become instinct to find him and comfort him"?

I've been slow to answer requests lately. Sorry, this took so long.

Lucifer:

Your constant pacing is annoying him. Lucifer can’t figure out why you are so agitated, and your pacing is starting to distract him from the paperwork he has to have done by morning. “It’s just a thunderstorm, Mc please.”

You whip around to glare at him so quickly he is taken aback.

Nothing in your expression says fear, and to be honest, Lucifer is relieved you don’t seem to be afraid of the storm. He hadn’t handled the situation well and he wouldn’t ever want you to think he cares so little for you that he would brush aside your fears as if they meant nothing.

Now that he is thinking clearly again he changes tactics.

“Mc, my dear, what has got you so upset?”

“My dog hates thunder, and I always have to comfort him during a storm. He’s not here. But I can’t help but worry. And it’s just instinct now I guess.

Lucifer seriously considers bringing your dog to the Devildom.

But the trouble that would get him into, the paperwork, Diavolo, the chance that some sort of harm could come to your pet dissuades him from that idea.

“I’m sorry mc.” and he really does look distressed that he can’t help you.

Until he realizes that Cerberus isn’t the biggest fan of thunder either. Cerberus’s room is more protected from the noise of the storm but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t like attention and comfort during a storm.

Lucifer takes your hand and silently leads you down to Cerberus.

You are understandably reluctant at first but Lucifer assures you that Cerberus is completely docile while he is around.

Soon you are snuggled up against the three-headed dog and Lucifer is finishing his work on the ground next to you.

Mammon:

Mammon bluntly asks you what has you so annoyed

“Oi human, what’s got ya all antsy?”

The way he says it makes you want to fight him just a little.

But he’s a demon and there’s no way a human could scare him with a little glare. Well normally your glare might scare him just a bit, but the look in your eyes now is tempered by the worry that is so clear on your face.

He drags you to his room and has you explain exactly why you are so worried.

Mammon asks you all about your dog.

He somehow distracts you by getting you to tell him all kinds of cute and funny stories about your dog.

You end up sitting with Mammon for hours, music playing in the background, almost completely forgetting about the storm.

He definitely wants to meet your dog now.

He’ll even go to Lucifer to get permission to visit your home in the human realm so you can both see your dog.

Levi:

You are distracting him from his gaming and it takes Levi a second to process that you might need his comfort.

“If you are going to be a distracting normie, could you at least not pace in front of the screen Mc?”

You apologetically move away from the screen towards the door.

“W-Wait! I didn’t mean you should leave! What’s wrong?”

You hesitate not sure if you want to tell him now, but then you spot Henry in his fishbowl.

“My dog hates thunder,” you say refusing to look at Levi and staring at the fishbowl instead “I usually have to go find him when a storm starts. But he’s not here, and I dunno… I think it’s just like instinct to comfort him but I cant so…”

Levi gets it.

He has so much love for his pets. Even the ones that grew into giant demon-eating monsters that don’t even recognize him.

He’d do almost anything for them.

You can’t go comfort your dog, but maybe Levi can comfort you?

He’ll try, even if he is blushy and nervous.

You’ll spend the storm exchanging stories about your pets and watching animes that are eerily similar to your situation. Like ‘My demon dog hates storms but I’m in the human realm and now the storms make me anxious because I can’t help but worry about him.’ and ‘My crush is worried about her pets and I almost messed everything up, but don’t worry I think I can help!’

Satan:

It’s no secret this demon is more of a cat lover.

But he still cares about your dog because he cares about you.

Blunt demon 2.0

Straight up asks you about your behavior as soon as you start acting weird. Although he is much more polite about it than Mammon.

“Mc, is there something you want to talk about? You seem distressed.”

“No!” you snap “Yes? Maybe? I don’t know Satan. This storm is driving me crazy! Every fiber of my being tells me I need to go find him. But he’s not here and I can’t help but worry and I know you mean well but there is nothing you can do to fix this.”

“Oh, well I don’t know if I would say there is nothing I can do. But who is he, kitten?” he asks gently, trying to understand

“My dog.”

You stare at him as he goes rummaging through the piles on one of his bookcases. After several minutes he turns triumphantly to you holding an ornamental metal hand mirror out to you.

It looks beyond old, and it’s surprisingly heavy and sturdy when he hands it to you.

“Just think of your dog and look in the mirror.”

“Like beauty and the beast?” you joke.

“Where do you think the ‘beast got the mirror in the first place?” Satan asks.

“I-What? You mean you-”

Satan’s eyes glint “That’s a story for another time, but yes I gave the ‘beast’ his magic mirror. But the fairy tales butchered the actual story,” He sighs.

You look in the mirror as instructed and see your dog with your family, tale wagging, dashing across a grassy field after a ball.

You smile “Thank you, Satan. This really helps.”

“Anytime Mc”

Asmo:

Asmo is telling you about his latest Devilgram post and how his followers “simply loved seeing the picture of you on the Ferris wheel with him,” when the first clap of thunder rolls through the air above the house of lamentation.

When you jump up at the sound Asmo thinks you’re afraid of the storm.

He carefully places the top to the nail polish he was using back on the bottle before focusing on you. “Darling, are you ok?”

You shake your head, pacing to the door then back to your vacated seat on Asmo’s bed.

“Mc darling can you tell me what’s wrong?” Asmo analyses your expression quickly, he’s looking for fear but doesn’t find any.

“It’s the storm,” you murmur “My dog can’t stand thunder and I’m used to going to find him when a storm starts. But I can’t really do that here so I’m stuck not knowing what to do with myself.”

“Oh Mc, that’s absolutely adorable!”

You glare half-heartedly at the demon.

“Don’t look at me like that!” Asmo pouts “I can’t help but react when you act so sweet.” he hums in thought for a moment.

“Is there someone taking care of him now?”

You nod “Yes, but I still worry sometimes.”

“I know darling. How about we go ask Lucifer if you can go for a visit tomorrow?”

You perk up at the thought and Asmo grins “Good, then we’ll do that first thing tomorrow morning. But for now, do you think we can distract you with a movie and some facemasks?”

Beel:

Beel doesn’t want to intrude, but he can’t help it when your mood starts affecting him.

He can’t enjoy the snacks he just bought when you seem so upset.

“Mc… will you tell me how I can help you?”

The sincerity of his question shocks you for a moment.

You blink up at him, feeling heat blooming in your cheeks.

“I’m sorry Beel, I didn’t mean to ruin your snacks”

“It’s ok Mc, you're more important.”

“It’s just that storms bother me. My dog hates them and when I can’t be there to comfort him I get… well like this.”

Beel nods and asks if you’d like to do something to take your mind off the storm.

“I don’t really know if I can just forget about the storm, you know?”

“That’s ok, how about we make some comfort foods then?”

Beel has you choose some music to play in hope of concealing the sound of thunder and you end up talking about your dog and cooking your favorite foods.

Beel is content helping out even if you aren't in the best of moods as long as he can help cheer you up just a bit.

Belphie:

Belphie is already annoyed that the thunder is keeping him from sleeping.

So your mood fits right in with his.

You can both be anxious/ annoyed little terrors together.

The rest of the brothers are giving you both plenty of space.

Somehow having someone in a similar mood as your own is helpful.

You can both be a little snappy without the other being offended or impatient.

You probably end up in a pile of pillows and blankets with Belphie. You're both a little restless but eventually, the comfort of the blankets and Belphie’s warmth calm you.

He’ll make sure you’re ok, with gently probing questions to find out what caused your mood.

He can’t exactly help your situation, after all, he doesn’t have the power to bring your dog to the Devildom and he doubts Lucifer would let him anyways.

But he can, and will let you talk if you want, and if not he’ll support you in silence.

He likes it best when you are happy but he knows there are problems he can’t solve.

He’ll ask if you’d like to dream about being home with your dog and if so he’ll influence your dreams.

[blue-lions-baby]

Scars That We Can’t Erase (Dimitri x F!Reader)

hi!! this fic was requested by an anon! i’m so sorry i realized too late that once i replied to the original request i can’t like reply to it anymore does that make sense i’ve been studying for six hours pLEASE i absolutely fell in love with the given prompt, and i hope my writing did it justice! here is the original request--

“Hi! Can i get some dimitri × fem reader in which dima literally adores the reader please? One time, the reader takes a grave hit for him in battle and he is a worried mess? He cant stop thinking about her, his training is sloppy because he cant concentrate, he feels awful. He even stays at the infirmary with her all day and night while she's unconscious, manuela has to force him to get some rest. He feels terrible and guilty when seeing the scar that the reader has (oh poor boi-) Thanks! Ilysm♡ “

i should also let you guys know that this fic (imo at least) is a bit more... intense, compared to my other ones. it does get rather lighthearted towards the end, so hopefully it kinda balances out ???

pre-timeskip and no spoilers!!

~*~

No...

No, no, no...

The last thing that Dimitri saw was your quivering, paling lips and your frame crumbling to the blood-soaked ground.

The last thing that Dimitri heard was Byleth’s cries for a healer and the way your name mangled out of his throat in a blood-curdling scream-- along with the sickeningly sweet cries of the bandit who struck you down as he stabbed, stabbed, stabbed the poor bastard’s soul out of his botched body.

The last thing Dimitri felt on his lips was blood. Blood from his tongue-- the pink, throbbing muscle oozing with red liquid-- or from the pulp of that bastard’s corpse, he did not know or care. The hauntingly warm liquid stained the corners of his lips and the core of his very soul as the deep holes and gashes he imprinted on the man’s body left ribbons of flesh hanging from visibly cracked bones, rendering him nearly unrecognizable as a human being.

“Dimitri! That’s enough!” A voice that sounded eerily similar to his professor’s wormed its way into his mind.

“How dare you lay a finger on her, you monster!”

“Your Highness, he’s already dead! Just leave him alone!” Cried a legion of voices, none holding familiarity to him.

“I will punish you for what you did! For what you did to (F/N)!”

It was his fault.

It was all his fault.

If only he saw that bandit rushing towards him.

If only he saw the glistening of the ruffian’s axe as he swung the sharpened slab of metal at him.

If only he heard you call out his name, a foreshadow to his bloody fate.

If only you didn’t jump in to save him.

If only he could have saved you.

Scenes of you falling before his very eyes kept replaying in his head, tearing open the fresh, guilt-induced wounds in his heart in a never-ending cycle. Something solid-- arms, perhaps-- grappled onto his pulsing, aching arms, which he shrugged off with ease. He wasn’t going to stop until that monster of a man suffered the consequences for hurting you. He wasn’t going to stop until that monster of a man paid his dues. He wasn’t going to stop--

Until he felt a gentle hold on his wrist.

Dimitri, snapping out of his blood-lusting reverie, paused instantly. He jerked his face to the small, shaking hand that just barely ghosted the surface of his gauntlet.

Your small, shaking hand.

“Dimitri...” A hand as beautiful as the one steadying his shaking wrist cupped his cheek, erasing the splatters of impurities that marred his smooth skin. “Please, stop...”

The fractured lance in his hand fell to the ground as its owner caught you in his arms, preventing you from suffering the same fate. Dimitri stumbled to his knees, fatigue and overexertion having finally caught up to him. Wheezing and hugging you as tightly as he could, he stroked your matted, sweaty, yet gorgeous locks with the gentleness of a lover. The delicate footsteps of Mercedes caught his attention and he looked up at his peer.

“Your Highness,” her eyes turned to you then back to him, “she’s going to be okay.”

Everything went black.

~*~

The carefree songs of swallows were the first to greet the groggy prince as he re-entered the world of consciousness. Although his hearing slowly came back to the awakened male, he just couldn’t will his eyelids to lift. And so he laid there, his ears the only channel to the bustling world around him.

“How are they?” Asked a monotone voice, stained with concern.

“Thankfully, the prince didn’t suffer any major wounds. A few scratches here and there, as well as some swelling and light bruising, but nothing too serious. Still, we should be careful straining his body any further. As for (F/N)...”

He heard the flirtatious healer heave heavily; his heart crumbled.

“That Mercedes girl did a splendid job patching her up in the moment. If you were to come even a moment later, we would have lost her.”

“So they’ll both live?” Dimitri recognized that worried tone from anywhere-- his loyal retainer.

“His Highness, for sure. (F/N), she... I’ve done everything I could to patch her up, but...”

“So... The best thing we can do is just... wait?”

“That’s the only thing we can do, Professor.”

Dimitri heard footsteps approach his bedside, then shortly congregate to elsewhere. The royal, disheartened and spirit-broken, let out a pitiful gurgle akin to a cry.

“Dimitri!”

“Your Highness!”

Through brute force and sheer will, he wrested his eyes open. The gentle morning light harshly struck his still-delicate pupils, making him wince. A raging headache tore through his temples, threatening to split his skull open.

“(F-F/N)...” He found himself muttering. “Where--? Where is--?”

“She is here, Your Highness.” Dedue motioned to the still figure beside the prince. “She is... not in the best condition.”

“I heard.” Dimitri dismissed the oncoming report, knowing his heart would all but collapse from within if he had to hear your grim fate iterated again. “I heard... everything.”

“Dimitri,” his professor began, “do you need anything?”

“Actually... May you please help me sit up?”

I can’t get a good look at her from this angle...

“No can do, Prince Dimitri.” Manuela retorted. “Even though your wounds are not as severe as (F/N)’s, we really shouldn’t put your body under any more stress.”

“Ms. Manuela, please. I beg of you.” Dimitri paused. “T-Truthfully, this position is rather uncomfortable. I would feel much better if I were to be readjusted.”

Manuela sighed, glanced over the royal’s swollen limbs and cut appendages, and reluctantly nodded.

“All right, fine. Let us know if anything starts to hurt.”

“Of course. You have my thanks. All of you.”

While Dedue busied himself propping and fluffing the pillows to Dimitri’s comfort, Manuela and Byleth worked together to assist the royal. They slowly managed to complete the task, doing their best to inflict as little pain as possible to the wincing and grimacing male.

“T-Thank you.” He breathed out shakily. “I feel... better now.”

“Do you require anything else, Your Highness?” Dedue questioned.

“I am fine, thank you. I just need time to... reflect.”

“I understand. I will wait outside should you need anything.” Dedue arose mechanically, bowed, and went outside to his station.

“Well, I need to run to town to restock on some medical supplies. I will be back as soon as I can. Goodbye.~” Manuela winked, patted Byleth on the shoulder, and sauntered away.

“Are you sure you don’t need anything else?” Byleth asked again, double-checking on the fluffed pillows.

“I am fine, Professor. Thank you for your help, as always.” Dimitri smiled slightly.

Byleth nodded, glanced at their other student, and leaned down.

“She’s going to be okay, Dimitri.”

Dimitri said nothing, the words meant to reassure only fueling his anxiety. All he could muster was a feigned smile and a small nod.

“Thank you for the encouragement, Professor.”

And Byleth was off, no doubt hurrying back to the rest of the Lions.

Now Dimitri was alone, save for Dedue who was ready to attend to his lord's every whim and command.

And... you.

Dimitri’s head lolled to face you. You were neatly tucked in the infirmary bed, a thin blanket cascaded over your body. So thin, in fact, that he could see the outline of the thick bandaging about your torso and shoulder.

Memories of the previous battle flooded his mind.

Distinct, biting, and painful memories that he’d do anything to bury in the oblivion-- to tuck away in the dark recesses of his mind, never to see the light of consciousness ever again.

He lifted his arm, forgoing his body’s desire to rest the battered limb, in a futile attempt to reach you-- to hold you.

So close, yet so far.

He remembered how his name was the last thing to spill out of your shaking, colorless lips as the lilting (E/C) hues he fell in love with gave way to a hollow, lifeless sheen.

How you were within his grasp-- within his reach-- yet he could do nothing to save you.

Except needlessly pulverize a dead man’s body into literal shreds.

Oh, Goddess.

His classmates.

His fellow Lions.

He had no direct memory of the faces or expressions he saw in his frenzy, yet he remembered it so distinctly. Although he possessed no recollections to base this on, he could clearly see each and every one of their faces painted with horror and quite possibly revulsion at the murderous monstrosity he managed to commit.

“Deem...”

Dimitri almost choked. He very nearly jumped out of bed if the shooting pain in his legs didn’t remind him of his sorry state.

“(F/N)...?!” Groaning, he turned his whole body to face you. “C-Can you hear me...?!”

“...ma.”

Your eyelids shuddered before stilling once more. He heard a quiet, labored wheeze rise from your chest before you succumbed to another deep sleep. A rush of emotions throbbed through his heart, each one too complex and short-lived for the prince to process.

“(F/N)...” He reached out his hand again, knowing full well that you were beyond his grasp. “I do not know if you can hear me, but please... Live.”

~*~

Within a day Dimitri’s body was healed of most of its external wounds, but his soul was still as ravaged as the battlefield you fell in. While the rest of the Lions greeted their leader with open arms (all except one, spitting out how his display in their previous skirmish proved he was “nothing but a feral boar,”) Dimitri could only return a fraction of their enthusiasm. He still smiled and trained and attended lectures, but the dark bags forming under his blank eyes were a physical manifestation of the raging storm within.

“Ope! Gotcha again, Your Highness!” Sylvain fisted the air triumphantly, hoping his smug arrogance would arouse a competitive flame within the despondent teen.

“Ah... It appears you have.” Dimitri mumbled, more so to himself than to Sylvain, and slipped into a fighting stance. “Let us try again.”

“Actually, Your Highness...” Sylvain leaned on the wooden training lance. “How about we take a short break. We’ve been training all afternoon.”

“Has it been that long?” Dimitri blinked, looking up at the still-blue skies.

“Yeah. C’mon. I’ll take care of the lances, you just sit down and make yourself comfortable.”

Although Dimitri would typically fight and say something along the lines of how he couldn’t possibly allow someone to take care of something he could so easily do himself, Sylvain found the lance slip out of the royal’s fingers with ease. After propping the training weapons on a rack, Sylvain joined Dimitri on a bench.

“So Your Highness,” Sylvain slid to his friend’s side, “we... couldn’t help noticing that...”

“Yes?”

“Well...” Sylvain trailed off again. “Ever since... you know... You haven’t been your usual self. At all.”

“Is that so...” Dimitri mumbled, staring at the ground with great interest.

“Yeah... We’ve all been really worried about you, Your Highness. We just... We just want to make sure you’re okay.”

Dimitri stared unblinkingly at nothing, utterly reaction-less to his friend’s voiced concern. He remained unmoving for a long time; Sylvain thought that if he so much as laid a hand on Dimitri’s shoulder, he would all but shatter into irreparable shards.

“... I apologize for my rudeness Sylvain, but I must go to the infirmary.”

“Huh--?”

“It is of utmost importance. Please excuse me.”

“Ah--! Hey, wait--!”

The prince managed to just barely slip out of the redhead’s outstretched palm, gracefully bobbing out of reach and the training grounds.

♠ ♥ ♣ ----------------------------------------------------------- ♣ ♥ ♠

“You have to take care of yourself too, you know.” Manuela clicked her tongue disapprovingly, setting down a lit candle on a nearby table.

“Thank you for your concern Ms. Manuela, but I can assure you that I am feeling just fine.” Dimitri replied flatly, his glossy pupils not leaving your frame for a second.

“Sure, but the bags under your eyes say otherwise.”

Dimitri’s fingertips grazed the sensitive stretch of skin on his face, his upper eyelid twitching in response to the gentle touch.

“I do not care much for personal vanity.”

“It’s a sign that you’re not getting enough sleep.” Manuela retorted sharply, smoothing out the crinkles on a nearby bed. “Here. I prepared a bed for you. If you’re going to spend the night here, at least do it on a bed.”

Sunken azure hues rested on the stiff, plank-like cot longingly before snapping back to your ashy complexion.

“Thank you, Ms. Manuela. I will make use of it later.”

“No, Prince Dimitri. Rest. Now.”

Brown, fiery eyes clashed with bleary blues as the healer and prince remained locked in a fierce staring match. Dimitri’s eyes began to water as he stifled a yawn, reluctantly accepting defeat as he slowly stood up and headed for the bed.

“Good. Thank you.” The prince’s yawn seemed to rub off on Manuela as she stretched her arms to the sky. “Go to sleep, all right? Don’t stay up too late.”

“Yes, Ms. Manuela...”

Manuela initiated one last check on your battered body, bade a goodnight to the royal, and slipped out of the infirmary.

Dimitri peered blankly at the barren ceiling, a cacophonous symphony comprised of self-hatred and regret premiering at the forefront of his thoughts. And the soloist singing for eternal damnation to his soul was none other than you-- you, whom he so lovingly adored. You, who helped pull him from the abyss more times than he could count. You, the light that warded off his thickening darkness. And how did he show his profound appreciation towards you?

By sentencing you to eternal sleep for his carelessness.

Dimitri twisted his body to face you, the delicate mask that he had so calculatingly designed crumbling at the near-lifeless shell before him. The shallow, unsteady rise and fall of your chest was the only indicator that your soul hadn’t left your body; he grew terrified at the prospect of it dipping and never rising. He made conscious effort to avert his eyes from that region-- not only out of the high regard he held towards you, but...

The more he lingered on images of your stilling body, the tighter his chest grew.

Just thinking about it threatened how much air his lungs could take in.

He rocked himself to a sitting position and slipped his feet out of bed. He dutifully made his way back to his original post-- on a rickety stool by your bedside. He firmly planted his rear on the round slab of wood and tenderly brushed a stray lock of hair from your forehead.

Goddess you were so, so beautiful.

He felt almost guilty admiring you while you were in such a state, but the way the singular lit candle contoured every feature, every dip in your face in the most heavenly way possible... He couldn’t help it. His hand found residence in yours, taking painstaking note of the very obvious size difference. His other hand busied itself smoothing your unruly hair, quelling the frazzled strands from a complete uproar.

He’d trade his life for yours in a heartbeat if it meant that he could witness the lively (E/C) hues he fell so desperately in love with shine once again.

A lone finger hooked under your jaw and the rest of his digits caressed your icy cheek.

“(F/N)...” His voice cracked out, “I am so, so sorry...”

Something hot leaked out of his eyes and splattered onto your cheek, in which he alarmingly wiped away. He reached up to halt the steady stream of tears pouring out of him, but the dam had broken. His large frame hunched over into a quivering mass, broken sobs echoing off of the indifferent walls of the dark infirmary. Only half-empty bottles of medicine bore witness to the royal’s breakdown; his sloppy apologies and implorations fell on the earless bushels of medicinal herbs.

The small candle that Manuela had previously set up was nearing its end, the stumpy mass of wax and wick now a mere puddle of its former self. Before the few remaining trickles of light embarked on their last pilgrimage across the room, Dimitri made one last guttural plea.

“Wake up, my Beloved...” He called out, the name he had granted you only in his mind slipping out in his desperate hour. “Please, wake up...”

♠ ♥ ♣ ----------------------------------------------------------- ♣ ♥ ♠

The mellow arias of songbirds heralded the beginning of a new day. A biting breeze blew through an open window and sliced your exposed skin, eliciting little goosebumps on the affected areas. With a breathless sigh and a pain-stricken moan, your eyelids managed to wedge themselves open. A bland ceiling was the first to welcome you back to the land of the living-- along with a large, dark mass hovering beside you.

You felt the remnants of a scream scratch out of your sorely unused throat and a sudden barrage of aches and pains besieged your frail body. You opened your mouth to yell, to cry for help, but no sound manifested. You felt something rough but warm adjust its grip on your hand, further sending your mind into a groggy panic.

“Mmph... (F/N)...”

That... That voice...

You stilled yourself (not that you were moving much anyway) and silently studied the steadily breathing shadow beside you. The dim dawn’s light reflected off of a bundle of disheveled gold locks, as well as a bright blue cape that was messily slung over a male’s shoulder.

A maelstrom of memories swirled through your mind.

A ruffian racing towards Dimitri, the edge of a bloodied and rusted axe swinging right for his neck.

Your legs discovering a mind of its own as it placed you right on the receiving end of the strike.

Your head throbbed, each surge of memory more painful than the last.

Darkness, followed by the putrid, metallic smell of blood in the distance and other auditory sensations too disturbing to fully comprehend.

Something warm and comforting pricked the corner of your heart as you recalled a certain sensation akin to embracing before you blacked out. Your thoughts frustratingly hazed into nothing. It felt like a certain memory was locked, forever lost behind an impenetrable brain fog. You wracked and sifted through your fragmented memories, but pieced together nothing. 

The first few rays of light began to peak over the horizon, streaming into the room in gentle waves; you squinted your eyes, still unused to any light source brighter than a candle. As your vision slowly readjusted to the brightening room, your eyes caught sight of something that almost sent you back to sleep.

Your fingers tightly entwined with Dimitri’s.

Your weak heart thundered loudly in your ears-- so loud, in fact, you worried that it would be enough to rouse the slumbering prince. As cautiously as you could, your body writhed itself in a futile attempt to sit yourself up. You kept a careful eye on the prince, noting how dark the circles under his eyes have become and how hollow his cheeks have turned. The fact that rest had eluded him for however long you were unconscious was as plain as day.

You shifted your stiff legs a bit; the frame of your bed let out a booming groan.

Dimitri quietly snorted and his neck reeled upwards; alarmed blue eyes met with equally alarmed (E/C). The veins in Dimitri’s neck swam to the surface of his skin, growing more and more defined as every choking second passed. 

“H-...” You began. “Hi...”

“(F/N)!” 

Your surroundings whizzed right past you before you were unceremoniously slammed into something solid but so, so... warm. 

Ah...

You remembered now.

This tenderness.

This contentment.

This warmth.

Dimitri held you in his arms, stroking your hair and mumbling rushed whispers as he did the day you fell.

“(F/N)... Oh, (F/N)...”

You felt how hard and rapid his heart was beating, almost deafening the incoherent whispers he sighed into your hair. Your arms weakly wrapped around his heaving back, rubbing it as soothingly as you could. He pulled you closer in response-- closer, closer, closer, until every inch of you was smothered by him. Hesitant, trembling fingers graced your tightly wound bandages and you felt something warm and wet splatter onto your exposed shoulder.

“Dimitri...” You pulled away slightly to look up at him and smiled. “It’s okay... I’m okay...”

“(F/N), I--” Clear, shiny beads of remorse pricked the corners of the prince’s eyes. “I’m so sorry. Goddess, I am so sorry, I... I’m so--”

You reached a finger to his lips, your heart splintering into tinier and tinier pieces as you watched the man you love slur apology after apology for a crime he did not commit.

“It’s okay, Dimitri... I'm okay now... I’ll be okay.”

The door quietly clicked open and a slender leg slipped itself into the tiny crack. The rest of Manuela slid in, along with a tray of vials and herbs.

“Oh--!” The healer tripped on her own two feet, dropping the tray and all of its contents onto the ground. She stumbled over the tied wad of herbs and leaking bottles of medicine that she had so desperately haggled from a travelling merchant.

“(F-F/N)?” She stuttered, slowly closing the distance between you two. “H-How are you feeling?”

“Um, w-well...” You peered down sheepishly, suddenly becoming very aware of the... intimate position you were in. “I am a bit achy all over but--”

“Ah!” Dimitri immediately released you from his arms and he shot out of his stool, almost tripping backwards. “P-Please forgive me! I was so caught up with my emotions, I did not even ask for your consent to hold you in such a way, a-and your wounds--!”

“Oh! N-No, Dimitri, it’s all right! I-- Uh--”

A rich chuckle from the older woman padded the shrill squeaks that poured out of you and your house leader.

“Well, Prince Dimitri... I’m afraid you can’t have her just yet. I still have to do a thorough check up on her. But after that... she’s all yours.”

Scarlet seeped into the royal’s cheeks, his sickly pallor bursting into hearty ruddiness. Broken vowels tumbled out of him as he clumsily rested his arse back onto the wooden stool.

“Actually Prince Dimitri,” Manuela began as she checked your vitals, “can you notify the professor that (F/N) has awakened?”

“You can count on me, Ms. Manuela.” Dimitri dutifully stood up and bowed. “I will deliver the news to Professor Byleth.”

Casting one last glance at you and bashfully looking down when he caught your eye, Dimitri hurried out of the infirmary to complete possibly the most important mission ever entrusted to him.

♠ ♥ ♣ ----------------------------------------------------------- ♣ ♥ ♠

After your awakening, your classmates and professor began incorporating regular infirmary visits into their schedule. They showered you with kind, encouraging words and occasionally bore small gifts, constantly reminding you that they were right alongside you on your road to recovery.

But your most frequent visitor of all was your beloved house leader.

Every morning, without fail, he would grace your presence with the pleasant aroma of freshly prepared breakfast.

Every afternoon-- after class and training-- he spent his days with you, informing and personally tutoring you over concepts the class learned that day. Or simply providing his company, ensuring that the sinking and crushing feeling of loneliness never found residence in your heart. 

Every evening, after all of his academic and princely duties have been met, he delivered your dinner trays with a sparkle in his eye and a smile on his lips.

"Is everything all right? Is there anything else you would like to go over from today’s lesson? If not, perhaps I can fetch you a glass of water in case you grow parched during the night.”

“Dimitri,” you laughed as you slowly rested your weary back on freshly-fluffed pillows, “you’re just downright spoiling me! I’m going to miss all this special treatment when I’m finally discharged.”

“W-Well, I would be more than happy to continue doing this long after you have been discharged.” Dimitri coughed. “I love-- er, rather, I find my time with you to be quite enjoyable.”

“Even though you’re constantly running around and fetching me whatever my heart desires?” You giggled.

“Why, of course! Seeing you content and well brings me insurmountable joy.”

“You’re so thoughtful, Dimitri.” You couldn’t help but grin after seeing how flushed his face turned. “Thank you so much for everything. You and all the other Lions have made my time in the infirmary so much more bearable. It’s... nice to feel loved like this.”

“You are loved, (F/N).” Dimitri threw the thin blanket over you. “You are an integral part to our house... and... t-to me.”

“Pardon?” You leaned forward, hoping to catch whatever he stuttered.

“N-Nothing. Please do not worry yourself over it. It is not very important.” He shot you a reassuring smile before your bandages entered his field of vision. Shame streaked across his features; his hold on the edge of the blanket loosened as he unconsciously stepped away from you.

“Dimitri...” You reached out for him, hoping he would take your hand as he always did. The prince kept his distance however, refusing to even look at you.

“(F/N)... (F/N), I’m--”

“Dimitri,” you raised your palm, “stop.”

Pure, unmasked horror bruised his handsome features.

“I-I apologize if I have offended you in some way--”

“It’s not that. It’s...” You sighed, closing your eyes. “Dimitri... What happened that day is not your fault. There is not a single drop of rage or bitterness in my heart. I can’t forgive you, simply because I was never mad at you to begin with. So please... Don’t look so pained when you see my bandages.”

Your stomach knotted painfully as a second alternative was made clear in your mind.

“Unless... Perhaps my wounds disgust you in some way...”

“Goddess, no!” Dimitri interjected immediately. “That cannot possibly be further from the truth. Your beauty has never waned-- not even for a second.”

The royal’s hand flew to cover his mouth while you both peered at each other, sharing the same shocked expression on your faces. Dimitri had never possessed such a strong desire to catapult himself into the sun. He remained frozen in fear, unsure how or if he could even save himself from his slip.

You tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear and looked down, the corners of your lips slightly turned upward. Dimitri found it unnecessary to fling himself into the sun since his cheeks had practically burst into flames at this point.

“O-Oh... Um... Thank you...” You managed to mumble, fidgeting with your blanket sheepishly.

“Um--!” Dimitri cleared his throat, jumped out of his seat, and bowed deeply. “I-It is getting quite late, is it not? I am afraid I must retire for the evening. Goodnight (F-F/N).”

The upper half of his body snapped downward in another deep bow as the prince hastily retreated from his social blunder. When the door clicked closed, you had all but broken into laughter. You pleasantly recalled Manuela’s previous remark towards the prince, and your heart danced in your chest. 

“Your beauty has never waned-- not even for a second.”

You buried your face in your palms and let out a quiet, airy scream, a delightful rush of emotions coursing through you. You laughed almost maniacally to yourself, and you were certain if someone were to walk in on you right this moment they would think you had gone absolutely mad. Look at you! Acting like an antsy little schoolgirl! How embarrassing!

Then again, there should be no shame in experiencing such highs. Especially when it’s related to Dimitri! You gingerly twisted your body so you that you were face-first into your pillow before letting out a happy, muffled scream.

Meanwhile, Dimitri was marching back to his room, head down and thankful that at least the cover of night was enough to hide the flushed tone of his face. Like you, he replayed that one line-- that little slip of his tongue-- in his head over and over again. Unlike you, he wished to chain his feet to a cinder block and toss himself into the lake. Hopefully the fish would be willing to share the same space with an idiot of his caliber.

Still, even as he flung himself into the comforting embrace of his bed, his thoughts couldn’t help but drift to your response to his idiocy. The way you looked down, smiling gently at his words, the tips of your ears adopting a shade of baby pink... 

You were so... 

So...

Cute...! 

Dimitri subjected his poor pillow to a bone-crushing hug as he buried his face in the mushy thing, imagining the soft, velvety texture of his pillow to be your skin and the warmth of the stuffed fabric to be your body pressed flushed against his.

Racing thoughts and rose-tinted fantasies propelled you both further and further away from Sleep, who desperately sought out her sleepless prince and fidgety (Favorite Class). When Sleep finally took hold of you, she could do little to obstruct the joyous meeting you both shared with each other in the forgotten land of dreams. 

♠ ♥ ♣ ----------------------------------------------------------- ♣ ♥ ♠

“Are you ready, (F/N)?”

You met Manuela’s steady gaze with your own. With a firm nod, you replied,

“Yes.”

The healer moved closer to you, her skilled hands undoing the set of bandages for the last time. Dimitri averted his frantic eyes to the wall when the dressing loosened just enough for your chest to peak through. A cold, unforgiving breeze whipped the newly exposed skin, jolting a shiver down your spine. Manuela clicked her tongue softly and slowly traced your shoulder.

“The wound’s all healed, but I’m afraid this scar’s here to stay...”

Your eyes immediately flashed over to Dimitri’s stiffening frame.

“I see...”

“You can apply certain creams on site to reduce its appearance, but it’ll never go away completely... I’m sorry, (F/N).”

“It’s all right, Ms. Manuela.” You flashed her a controlled smile. “Honestly, with all the regular outings to dispel bandits and whatnot... It was only a matter of time before I bore my first battle scar.”

Manuela’s lips curved upward and she patted you on your unmarked shoulder.

“Do you need anything else, (F/N)? Some water, or food?”

You hummed thoughtfully, then shook your head.

“All right. Should you need anything, all you have to do is holler.” Manuela gave you one last smile before excusing herself from the room.

Dimitri stood unmoving and unblinking, countering your hard stare with blatant refusal to look at your scar-- a physical memento of his failure.

“Dimitri.”

The prince visibly recoiled at the sound of his own name.

“Look at me.”

His jaw clenched tautly; his eyes crunched into a pain-stricken wince. 

“Look at me, please.”

He refused.

“I don’t blame you for this.”

. . .

“And I’ll never blame you for it.”

. . .

“If it means saving you, I’ll gladly do it again.”

This struck a chord with the prince, his enraged face suddenly mere inches away from yours.  

“Don’t you dare say such a thing.” He growled lowly. “I will not allow you to throw your life away for me.”

“Dimitri...” You cupped his cheek in your hand, in which he immediately melted into. “I’ll gladly do it again because... Because... I love you.”

Not a moment later did you feel something warm and soft press against your lips. The tips of his bangs lightly dusted the surface of your skin, tickling your nose with the crisp smell of Faerhgus pine. A pair of gloved hands caught either side of your face, thumbs rubbing shallow circles into your cheeks as he pressed his lips further into yours. His mouth moved sloppily but lovingly, awkwardly yet ardently adoringly against yours; a medley of celestial colors you’ve never seen before flashed brilliantly at the forefront of your mind, casting you into a dreamlike stupor.

Dimitri leapt back, panic stewing in his deep briny blues. His fingers brushed his still-tingling lips as he bowed lowly.

“F-Forgive me (F/N), I-.. I have no idea what possessed me to do such a thing! I suppose I was just, um, c-caught in the moment and--?!”

More than tired of hearing his apologies, you grabbed his shirt’s collar and jerked him back to where he was before-- contently and firmly pressed right against your lips. Your fingers bunched themselves into patches of velvety, wispy gold while your lips moved sanguinely against his, happily leading your mouth and his in a spicy dance. A small moan escaped your slightly opened lips and Dimitri, consumed by nothing but base desires, surprised your tongue with a face-to-face meeting. 

The wet muscle wrapped about yours, pulling you into an unyielding fight for dominance. You felt smooth sheets hit your exposed back; you hadn’t even noticed Dimitri progressively lowering the both of you onto your bed. He planted his hands on either side of your body, ridding any hope of escape from his ravaging kisses.

Not that you wanted to anyway. 

Dimitri’s lips left yours to wander around your face and neck, taking particular interest in the latter. He nipped the exposed skin, teething and sucking wherever his heart desired until you were covered in nothing but love bites.

Then he caught sight of your cleavage, simply irresistible and downright begging to be marked with his love.

Then he suddenly remembered that you two were in a very public place and not in the private confines of his bedroom or dreams.

“Ah-- Um--” Dimitri stammered, quickly pulling away from your panting form. “P-Perhaps we should... stop... before it escalates any further...”

You whined, wanting nothing more than to be showered with kisses and bathed in his worshiping love. But your senses, hazy as they may be, pulled through the fog and coldly reminded you of your current whereabouts. 

“Fine...” You pulled his fingers to your sultry lips and pressed a hot kiss on each digit. Dimitri’s jaw and pants tightened, the prince desperately clinging onto the last thread of sanity and reason which threatened to snap at any moment.

“My Beloved,” he purred sweetly, pressing a chaste kiss to your cheek, “rest now. When your strength returns to its fullest, we can pick up where we left off. I swear it.”

You giggled, finding his attempt at being serious too adorable. The heat and passion was still very visible in his eyes, and it was obvious that anymore teasing on your end would send him over the edge.

You nodded sleepily as he pulled the covers over you. He graced your lips with one more kiss before he stood up.

“Class will be starting shortly. Do you need anything before I go?”

“Mm...” You looked up coyly. “One more kiss, please!”

Dimitri chuckled, happily fulfilling both of your wishes.

“My Beloved is too cute for her own good...” He murmured huskily into your ear. “It should be a crime to be this captivating.”

“Then maybe you should punish me tonight~?”

“T-That’s...” Dimitri’s smug confidence had instantly dissipated. “S-Sleep well, (F/N).”

You had never seen a person’s cheeks go so red so fast. Dimitri zoomed out of the infirmary with a chorale of laughter bubbling out of his beloved.

Not a moment later after the door closed, it opened again just enough for the prince’s head to pop back in.

“Oh, uh, (F/N)?”

“Yes, darling?”

“I...” He cleared his throat loudly and shyly smiled. “I love you too.”

bonus: your discharge from the infirmary prompted a day of celebration in the blue lions house, with byleth cancelling lectures and training for the day to celebrate your miraculous recovery.

the rest of the lions organized a mini ‘welcome back’ party; the desks that previously held books and other study things now harbored all your favorite dishes on one side and a cluster of gifts on the other.

and when the sun dipped below the horizon, well... let’s just say dimitri made good on his promise from that night onward ;)

[uno-reverse-fic]

Chapter 13

Food.

That was the only thing on your mind for the next hour before dinner. And when the time finally came, your stomach groaned with delight, and so did you. You knew all to well that you were going to eat as much food as you could, you wanted so badly to end the aching pains of your hunger. Katsuki sat down as far away from everyone as possible and pulled you out of his pocket. You settled with a large chunk of chicken that had been torn off, but the second you were about to take a bite Kirishima walked over. Katsuki quickly picked you up and shoved you back into his jacket.

"Just my luck." You muttered to yourself. You just wanted food, cant the universe let you eat in peace. For what felt like the millionth time this week you longed for this nightmare to finally end, luckily it would soon, tonight in fact. From what you could hear there were three other people with Kirishima, most likely Mina, Hanta, and Denki. They had sat down and stayed there for the rest of dinner, so you never did get to eat anything.

Katsuki opened the door to his room and flopped on the bed again, pulling out his phone to check any notifications he may have gotten in the past hour, which wasn't many. You climbed out of his jacket pocket and onto his chest to see what he was occuping himself with, even though you knew it couldn't more important than getting you food. He was scrolling through some social media app that was fairly similar to Vine, the logo was a black background with a white, blue, and pink music note, you couldn't remember the name of it though. You sat down in front of the phone screen, but far enough back that you wouldn't block his view, or what little of it you could block. He continued scrolling through social media for a few more minuets before he stood up, and grabbed you again. He placed you in the drawer, and you heard the shufffling of feet and the opening of a drawer. There was a bit of what sounded like Katsuki rustling through clothes before a sudden stop, and silence filled the room. There was an eerily dark feeling in the atmosphere, and that wasn't just because you were shut in a drawer with no light. After what felt like forever you heard slow footsteps returning towards the desk that you were trapped in. The drawer was yanked open, light flooded in, blinding you for a moment before your eyes adjusted to the sudden change of lighting, and thats when everything started to piece together, and not in a good way. Katsuki's face was blank, with no readable expression, and he was holding a shoe box. The same box that was in his shirt drawer, the same one that you had found the photo in, the photo of him and Izuku. His hand reached for you and completely engulfed you in its suffocating grip, you were pulled out of the drawer and placed on the desk next to the box. Katsuki looked at you one last time with a flash of betrayal in his eyes before leaving the room. You sat down, there were plenty of ways to hide or escape, but you didnt, for some unexplainable reason you stayed. After a few dreadfully long minutes Katsuki returned with a jar held tightly in his left hand, and that same terrifying blank expression. He walked towards the desk unscrewing the lid and placing it on the desk next to you. He picked you up and dropped you into the jar, you did nothing to oppose this, you accepted your fate. The lid, which you now noticed had fairly large air-holes but not big enough for you to escape, was replaced on the jar.

The look in Katsuki's eyes was heart wrenching. That look of pure betrayal and distrust shot like a bullet through your heart, it was enough to make anyone regret any decisions they had made. The ability to shoot regret into anyone at any time, whether it be through a sinister look or a distrustful one, Katsuki definitely had it. He placed the jar on the desk and turned away, not bothering to put the box back into its hiding place in his shirt drawer.

You didn't sleep well that night. The cool glass sent chills up your spine as you lowered yourself onto the floor of the jar. The moonlight shone dimly through the window, silhouetting the curled up figure in the bed on the other side of the room. The shadows stared at you, giving you a sense of unease and watchfulness, as if they were tracking your every move. The feeling of loneliness was mixed with the fear of being watched, it was unsettling and one of the many things that kept you awake that night.

When the morning finally came the sunlight slowly flowed into the room, removing all the insecurity of the unrecognizable shadows. But as good comes and takes away the bad, so follows even worse. The sharp, loud sound of the alarm clock startled you, and you jumped, immediately gaining goosebumps from the cold, bone-chilling glass that surrounded you. Katsuki pushed himself up and barely acknowledged you as he put the box away began his usual morning routine, the only thought he gave towards you was shoving the jar you were trapped in into his desk drawer. You heard the shuffling of him changing int his school uniform before the opening of the door, and a slamming sound quickly following.

The pitch black darkness surrounded you, and for the next half hour you were in denial. Everything was fine and he just forgot about you, he would be back soon, right? You spent next few hours sitting alone in the dark, with the chilling glass surrounding you, as the only comfort you had. Your stomach ached with pain, you were starving and in need of food, it grew with each minute, only adding on to your misery. The darkness cooed at you to fall asleep, the tiredness you felt was immense and you tried to fall asleep but you just couldn't. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn't sleep. For hours you tried to calm yourself, and erase any grim thoughts from your mind, but nothing worked. The seconds ticked by slowly, each one seemingly loner than the last, until finally, after what seemed like forever, the silence was broken, and the doorknob turned.

Annoyed footsteps made there way towards the desk and the chair was moved.

"Bakugo?" You spoke. You usually called people by their first names, mainly to be spiteful, but at this point it didn't matter, you just wanted to be released from this prison. All you wanted was for everything to be back to the way it was, back to normal, you wanted to carry on with your life.

"Bakugo, can you let me out now." You called, this time a bit louder, but still no answer. You kept trying, asking him to set you free,  until eventually the drawer was yanked open, and light poured in blinding you again. Your eyes were met with glaring dark crimson ones. He lifted the jar out of the drawer, and raised to eye level. The expression on Katsuki's face was finally readable, but you wished it wasn't. He had a horrible sadistic look of animosity that made your stomach churn. You backed up and pressed yourself against the wall behind you, trying to put as much distance between the two of you as possible.

"Ya know... you made a huge mistake..." His voice was low and dark, he was trying to sound as intimidating as he could but you could hear the slight unease in it. Your heart was thumping loudly, terrified of what was to come. He slammed the container onto the table and his hands were placed on the back of his lowered head.

"None of this was supposed to happen. If-if you had just stayed back none of this would have happened. But because of you..." he trailed off and you could hear the shakiness in his voice. He lifted his head to look at you, and you were filled with dread and regret in less than a mere second. That face. That expression. He was crying, his mouth was slightly turned into a sadistic crooked smile and his eyes stared into your soul, almost screaming at you 'Why, why did you do this, why did you cause me so much pain!?'

"You are the reason for this. YOU ARE THE REASON, NO ONE WAS SUPPOSED TO SEE THAT! BUT YOU, YOU HAD TO GO THROUGH MY STUFF, YOU COULDN'T HELP YOURSELF, AND NOW YOUR GOING TO MAKE A FOOL OF ME!" he picked up the jar and stormed over to the door. He yanked it open and continued yelling,

"YOU KNOW WHAT, I DON'T CARE! I DON'T CARE WHO FINDS YOU, YOU ARE A WORTHLESS INSIGNIFICANT IDIOT! I DON'T CARE WHAT HAPPENS TOU YOU! I DON'T CARE IF YOU DIE!" That last sentence stung you, the way it rolled off his tongue so easily, it hurt. Your heart hammered wildly against your chest, threatening to burst through, and you were on the verge of crying. With that he threw the jar into the hall and slammed the door shut. The impact sent aches and agony flooding though your body, giving you a fresh set of injuries.

When it finally stopped rolling you stood up, only to collapse onto the ground again in pain and dismay. Hot tears streamed down your face blood seeped from your nose and mouth, large bruises showed evidence of their existence through aching, even though they were invisible. Your heart continued to pound, crimson blood stained your shirt the color of dark cherries, and the image of Katsuki's face flashed in your mind. The look he gave you as he lifted his head was permanently etched in your brain, the dread and regret you felt still evident. You never before had such an immense feeling of abandonment, terror, and heartbrokenness in your life. Everything hurt, and it wasn't just the hunger stabbing at your insides, but your whole body ached with dread and pain, and you didn't notice the gentle, careful lifting of the jar, you didn't notice the comforting voice speaking to you. At least, not at first.

MASTERLIST

[doyouevenshipbr0]

gruvia drabble

~gruvia week: day 2// surprise~

author's note: damn me posting for 2 gruvia days in a row?! crazy shit lmao. get ready for some gruvia fam fluff kiddies!!! and ok listen ik that only one gruvia baby is actually canon (well, canon enough ig) but theres NO WAY u can convince me Juvia didn't try to have a million babies w gray. i jus aint buyin it sorry! and its a liiiil ooc i cant lie but like at this point theyve been married for a bunch of yrs so their dynamic haa to change at least a lil bit. ok enjoy!!! love u all!!!:)

*

Gray groaned as he rubbed his rough hand against his stiff neck, letting some cold air seep through his palms to ease the pain for even just a moment.

"I'm gettin' too old for this shit." Gray huffed jokingly to himself as he held his head low, walking his way back to his house. He had gone on a two week long mission, and it completely drained him. He didn't go on missions longer than a week very often, and his aching body was certainly a result of that.

He approached his home and turned the nob to the front door, and he felt his fingers bend in pain. This job really gave him a run for his money, that was for sure.

When Gray wasn't met with an instant greeting, he was a bit thrown off, but didn't think much of it. He made is way down the hall and into his kitchen.

"Surprise!" Juvia and his kids shouted in unison. The three of them all had big proud smiles on their faces which were all identical.

"Wha-" Gray's eyes widened and his mouth gaped open. On the table sat a cake that read "Best Dad Ever" which looked very similar to a certain eight year old's hand writing that he knew. Behind them was a banner with bold letters that said "Welcome Back!" with a present under it.

"What's all this?" His voice was dry from the shock.

"It's Father's Day, Gray-sama" Juvia replied with a pretty smile.

The day completely slipped his mind. He was so worn out from his mission that he kind of lost his concept of time. Truthfully, he couldn't gave said what day of the week it even was. Regardless, Gray felt himself overcome with an immense amount of joy.

Juvia bent down in between the heights of their son and daughter. "You guys can go hug your father now. The surprise part is over." She hummed.

In the next instant there was a child and a toddler hurling themselves at Gray. They met him with great impact as one clung to his waist and the other to his leg.

"Whoa, hey." Gray chuckled and reciprocated both hugs. "I missed you guys."

"We missed you too, Dad! And oh, you gotta' tell me all about it!" Storm let go of Gray first. "Did you beat all the bad guys?! How big were they?! Did you do your ice devil slayer stuff?!" He spoke a mile a minute, eyes gleaming with wonder and admiration for his father.

"Yes, huge, and yes." Gray looked down at his son with a grin on his face. "I'll give you the details after I rest a bit, ok?" Gray ruffled a hand through Storm's navy blue waves on his head as he pouted in disappointment.

"Did you freeze them, Daddy?" Gray looked lower at his daughter who was still wrapped around his leg. He scooped her up and brought her to his hip.

"Sure did." He smiled.

Neva's big black eyes widened in awe. "And you did the hair thing?"

Juvia and Gray both chuckled. She was referring to his hair sticking up when he used his devil slayer magic.

"Yes, raindrop. My hair did the thing."

"Can you do it?!" Neva perked up.

"Yeah, dad, do the thing!" Storm tugged at his arm.

"Daddy just got back from a big mission, and he's very tired." Juvia walked over to them and brushed a hand through Neva's deep blue locks.

"Aww!" Both kids groaned together.

"Weren't you just saying how excited you were for cake?" Juvia said sweetly to Neva.

"Oh, yeah! Cake time!" Neva squirmed and Gray set her on the ground, and sure enough she sprinted to the cake.

"Storm, why don't you go get daddy's present?" Juvia Kissed the top of her son's head, and he did as he was told.

Once the kids were preoccupied for a moment, Juvia turned to Gray, and her face softened.

"Juvia missed you very much, Gray-sama." She quickly wrapped her arms around his neck, causing Gray to stumble back into a wall, earning a rush of pain to his back.

Gray groaned as he caught his balance and stepped away from the wall, finally putting an arm around Juvia's waist. "And I thought I was done with getting my ass kicked." He scoffed.

Juvia giggled. "Juvia will take that as an 'I miss you too.'" She pressed a kiss on Gray's lips.

Juvia turned an began walking away and gray lowered his hand, discreetly pulling her close to him.

"I'll let you know how much I missed you later." He whispered as he grabbed a little more tightly on her side. Red rushed to Juvia's face, earning a content grin from Gray.

"Juvia will hold you to that." She whispered back, flipped her hair, and began to walk away as Gray watched, still with the same grin on his face.

"Have a seat, dear." Juvia finished her way to the table and pulled out a chair for Gray to sit in, and he followed.

"Damn, what did I do to get treated like royalty?" Gray joked, but on the inside he was boasting.

"Language!" Juvia wagged her finger. "And you are the best husband and father ever. This is the least we could do." She smiled. Gray reached out onto the table and took Juvia's hand, squeezing it.

"Look, Storm did the words on the cake!" Neva's pale face lit up as she pointed to the dessert.

"So that's why it looks like chicken scratch." Gray snorted.

"Hey!" Storm objected as he put the present on the table.

"I'm joking, buddy." Gray grinned and pulled his son in for a hug. "It looks great."

"Well, Mom made it from scratch, so it was really all her." Storm gestured to his mother.

"Then we're in for a treat. Mom's a great cook." Gray looked right at Juvia, causing her to blush.

"I helped too, Daddy!" Neva hopped off her chair and ran over to Gray.

"Oh you did?" Gray picked up the three year old and sat her on his lap. "Then it'll be even better." He playfully began kissing at her cheek, causing Neva to shriek with laughter.

"Ok, ok, Mommy can't wait." Juvia exclaimed, interrupting. "Open your present now." Juvia clapped and nudged the bag towards Gray.

"Sheesh someone's eager." Gray raised a brow.

"Just open it, Dad." Storm nagged excitedly, sounding eerily similar to Juvia.

"Alright, alright." Gray gave in. He turned to Neva who was still perched on his leg. "You wanna' help Daddy?" He asked.

Neva responded with a violent shake of her hair, making her curls swing back and forth.

"No?" Gray was surprised. She was rather nosy, so he was expecting an instant yes.

"Just for you." Neva insisted.

"Well, ok." Gray turned back to the bag, and reached in.

He felt something very soft and pulled it out, and in his hand was a blue knitted scarf.

"Juvia knows you still wear the one I made all those years ago, but, it doesn't hurt to have two." She smiled and shrugged. "And this one's special since the kids helped me."

Once taking a closer look, he could see where the technical things on the scarf started to become inconsistent. It didn't matter though. He loved the scarf.

Gray paused and looked at the scarf, and then at his beautiful family. His wife and kids were the absolute best thing that happened to him, and he didn't know what he did to deserve them. He had to do everything in his power to fight back tears. Damn, they really made him a softy. He didn't mind, though. They also made him the happiest man alive.

"I love it." Gray announced and instantly wrapped it around his neck. "Thank you guys so much." Gray brought his kids in for a hug as a grin was plastered on his face.

"Don't forget to read the card." Juvia inquired.

Gray broke the hole from his kids and reached into the bag to find an envelope. He opened it and the card read "Happy Father's Day!". The inside had little pictures that the kids drew and Gray chuckled while looking at them.

The bottom was signed, "Love, Mommy, Storm, Neva, & Baby Fullbuster."

Gray froze. He looked down at the card, rereading the signatures over and iver again. Once he finally decided he was sure of what he read, he looked straight up at a very anxious Juvia, and his jaw was on the floor.

"A-are you..?" Gray felt something well up in his throat.

Juvia couldn't hold it in any longer. She responded with a vigorous nod. Gray carefully placed Neva on the ground and instantly jumped up and hugged his wife, giving her a little spin off the ground.

"You're pregnant?!" Gray's voice was light, and he felt his eyes sting with those tears he was trying to hold back.

"Yep." Juvia bit her lip in a smile and placed her hand onto her belly.

He looked back at his children. "And did you guys know this whole time?!"

They responded with uncontrollable giggles amongst each other. Gray smiled and ran over to them, scooping them both off the ground and playfully threw them over his back.

"You think you can just keep secrets from your old man like that?!" He jested, and the kids responded in fits of laughing.

Gray finally set them down. "How far along are you?"

"Porlyusica says about seven weeks." Juvia's hand remained on her stomach.

"Wow." Gray finally let out a breath. He took another look at his glowing wife and kids. "You guys really know how to throw a welcome back party." He let out an airy laugh and was so overwhelmed he felt a tear leak out of his eye, and he did his best to nonchalantly wipe it away.

"Want some cake, Daddy?" Neva tugged on his pant leg.

"I would love some." He grinned.

"I'll get you a slice!" Storm quickly hurried to the cake.

"Be careful, sweetie." Juvia followed him over and made sure he didn't cut any fingers off.

At this point, Gray was certain he was the luckiest guy in the world.

[just-some-random-blogger]

Welcome To The Jungle

EXO Park Chanyeol & Oh Sehun Characters: Park Chanyeol, Oh Sehun, Kim Minseok (Xiumin), Byun Baekhyun, Kim Jongdae (Chen) Summary: Chanyeol decides to go to the Amazon on his vacation week. Once there, be meets an exasperated safari tour guide called Sehun... amongst others... Word Count: 1k+ Warnings: BISH ITS CRACK TURN AWAY NOW IF YOU CANT & DONT

A/N: If you wanna know why, then you should know while my exams, I HAD MINSEOK DANCING TO TEMPO LIKE A BISH IN MY HEAD THE WHOLE TIME LET ME LIVE GDAM

This was such a long time coming UGHHHHHH

i cant believe

“Annyeong!” Chanyeol grinned brightly, bowing 90 degrees to the equally tall man wearing the khaki uniform he was expecting him to wear. Chanyeol was so giddy, he looked like an over-overgrown child; his hands were on either strap of his backpack, and was rolling back and forth on his feet. “I was so excited when I heard my tour guide was from Korea! How long have you been working here?”

The man with lopsided lips blinked, “Long enough to want out.”

Chanyeol burst into bright laughter, making the other pull his face in equally as much disgust as annoyance. The man on the job clenched his fist tightly and did everything in his power not to roll his eyes. He forced a smile and spoke with no conviction whatsoever, “Welcome, sir, to the most spectacular safari you will ever have the privilege to be on.”

Chanyeol broke into the largest grin at his words nonetheless.

“My name is tour guide Oh Sehun and I’ll be showing you the wonders of the amazon today.”

Chanyeol nearly squealed and Sehun finally backed away. “C’mon,” the tour guide said, proceeding to walk towards his ranger jeep, “the sooner we leave, the sooner we get back.”

Chanyeol wasted not a second and ran towards the vehicle, sitting in the front seat, buckling himself in before Sehun even gave instruction. Sehun rubbed his nape and breathed out hot air, “That brat. He was probably spoiled as a child. He has no manners at all.”

Once Sehun was eye’s view of what Chanyeol was doing, he couldn’t even tell his client off because he put the complicated seat belt on without any help. Sehun knit his brows deeply and stuffed himself to the driver’s seat beside him, securing himself in quickly. “Is this your first safari?”

“It’s my third, actually.”

Sehun couldn’t help but scoff out a chuckle, to which Chanyeol thought innocently as an impressed laugh, so he continued, “Yeah, the first time I went on one was on my birthday two years ago.”

Sehun was uninterested, and yet he found himself asking one last question, out of sheer formality. He started the car and grunt when it didn’t open. He turned to Chanyeol, “How old were you?”

“24.”

Sehun, who had been fussing with the engine, whipped his head to Chanyeol’s direction just as the jeep hummed, confirming its ignition. This bastard’s was my age two years ago,  Sehun thought gripping the steering wheel tightly. How sad. “Hold on tight, hyungnim. The road is bumpy.”

The jeep whooshed forward, heading deep into the thick jungle before them, stirring Chanyeol’s insides in excitement. The man with messy hair had his adrenaline pumping. He held a big grin. He couldn’t let Sehun’s statement go unnoticed however, “I’m older than you?”

Unfortunately for you, “Yes.” Sehun answered simply, shifting the stick.

“Waaaah, I have a cool dongsaeng. Cool.”

Sehun upper lip rose out of instictive disgust, which involuntarily prompted him to drive faster. Chanyeol took full advantage of this and raised his hands up in the air, cheering, as if he was on a roller coaster ride. Sehun growled at his actions, proceeding to shout at the man, “Babo-ya! Do you want to get your arms cut off?!”

“MWO? I CAN’T HEAR YOU!” Chanyeol shouted back, louder, not even bothering to put his arms down or stop his obnoxious howling. 

If he fucking wakes the tribe, I swear to--

At this point, they were met with a rocky road that was near a very shallow river. It made Sehun drive a little bit more cautiously, and Chanyeol finally keep his hands to himself and hold on to the handle bars.

The jeep came to a stop as they got to furthest the jeep could take them.

Sehun swiftly removed his seat belt in one motion and jumped out, turning to a struggling Chanyeol. He smirked at him and cleared his throat, “This way... hyung.” he placed his hand behind his back and started walking off,  “You have to move quickly if you want to see the animals.”

Once Chanyeol was free from his restrictions, he wasted no time and jumped out of the vehicle. He jogged up behind Sehun who was already walking off. He didn’t notice that Sehun had pulled out a longish knife with him, you know, the ones to chop off leaves and branches and stuff.

Chanyeol pulled out his camera and took pictures with a smile. Sehun finally turned back at him and sighed, “Right. You’re gonna wanna not do that when there are animals around. They have very acute senses of hearing and event he sound of a camera shutter can scare them away, some birds especially.”

The man behind the tour guide lowers his device and nodded slowly. “Oh, gwenchana. Real life experiences are better than pictures anyway.”

Sehun rolled his eyes.

The two continued walking and Chanyeol eventually strided next to Sehun.

“Watch your step, hyung. Some objects on the ground seem--” before Sehun could finish his sentence, Chanyeol stepped on quite a big rock and went wobbling forward, “--invisible.”

Lucky for Chanyeol, he was quick enough to suppost himself, and Sehun had enough heart in him to grab his arm and prevent him from falling. The later of the two did bother hiding the roll of his eyes, the former smiled and spoke a thank you.

“There,” Sehun pointed, “do you see? It’s a toucan.”

“Waaaah,” shutter proceeded by flapping of wings.

Sehun pursed his lips and threw Chanyeol a nasty look. Chanyeol showed his teeth, “Mianhe.”

Sehun released a breath, “Whatever... your loss anyway.”

The two moved not much forward and came across another bird. Unfortunately before Sehun could identify what it was exactly, Chanyeol scared it away by his giggling this time.

The trip continued on, exasperating at Sehun’s end, and excitingly frustrating on Chanyeol’s end, because he kept unintentionally scaring a bunch of animals away. On the bright side, a stick insect thought his shoulder cool. Chanyeol felt bad however that he panicked when it started moving to his neck and swatted it, swiftly ending its life.

At this point, Sehun thinks Chanyeol could even scare away a tiger if they ever come across one, or maybe even a band of gorillas.

Chanyeol started talking about his life in Seoul somewhere between Sehun’s how-much-nicer-it’d-be-not-to-know and thanks-for-boring-me-half-to-death.

Apparently he was a photographer.

How charming.

“-- but then I decided I would much rather do something I wanted, thus I went to another company and ditched the millions of won I--” “Shut up.” Sehun spat out.

Chanyeol pulled his head back in suprise and utter offence. “Mwo-”

“Shhhhh.” Sehun raised a hand and stopped in his tracks, “something’s here.”

For a moment the two stayed perfectly still, and nothing but the jungle spoke. Sehun clenched his jaw, dreading the gut feeling in him. He licked his lips and heard a rustle from his left. Not late after, Chaneyol saw the leaves move. He went reeling towards Sehun, clutching his arm. Sehun hissed, “You woke the tribe. Great.”

The man was small, but he looked furious.

“T-the tribe? Wh--”

“Maehokjeogin neon lovely”

Chanyeol started waking backwards, hiding behing Sehun’s shadow, grapsing onto his biceps. Sehun hissed and shook him off, “They’re doing their tribe chant, it means they won’t attack us yet.”

”Yet?” the other repeated, nervous.

Teum eopsi jopyeojin geori Bulgyuchikaejineun heartbeat Jamsi nuneul gama trust me.”

Chanyeol tilted his head at what he heard, “Is… is that… Korean?”

Sehun rolled his eyes and shoved him back,  “If you want to live to—“ but the tour guide couldn’t finish his argument for there was suddenly a loud screech from the bushes, making Chanyeol yelp and jump into Sehun’s personal space.

Sehun shoved him off, but Chanyeol only recoiled back into his place.

There was a spear by the bushes, both of them could easily tell. Whoever it was was heading for them at an eerily slow pace.

“Are they barbarians? CANNIB—“ “Shut up, and do not raise your voice. It only excites them to know you’re scared.” Sehun cut Chanyeol off. The latter gulped.

Then suddenly, there was a battle-cry like scream and the hair Chanyeol’s skin stood up.

From in front of them emerged at small, mud painted man, wearing a skirt made of leaves and a rock necklace. He looked enraged, his chest was heaving and his already narrow were narrowed. His mangled hair and rock pointed spear made him look intimidating… but not to them, not to anyone sane. In fact, Chanyeol was now just… confused.

Sehun huffed and rolled his eyes.

The tourist leaned to his guide and whispered, “Is he—“ “Yes. Just…” Sehun sighed, “let me handle this.”

Sehun walked over to the man in his normal pace, making the man point his speak at him. “You have upset the jungle.” the shorter one spoke.

“Upset the jungle? Or you and Baekhyun hyung?”

“HIS NAME IS TA!”

Chanyeol pulled his head back and Sehun rolled his eyes, “Minseok hyung, you should head back—“

“MY NAME IS POZI, CITY BOY!” Pozi, or to Sehun and the rest of the world, Minseok shouted at the man, slamming the end of his spear on the ground repeatedly.

Chanyeol decided to speak up at this point. “Jjangkkaman, you’re not a native?”

Sehun cursed Chanyeol’s stupidity and Minseok turned to him, “Native by heart.”

“Hmp, you know what, this is above my pay grade, we should just—“ but yet again, Sehun was cut short.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA” someone screamed in and jumped on Chanyeol’s back. Chanyeol was quick to jolt him off however, and he shuddered the way he did when a bug crawled on him.

The man, who looked similar to Minseok, fumed in anger as well.

Chanyeol looked at him like spoiled pizza.

Sehun turned to Chanyeol. “They’re on drugs.”

The newly arrived mud covered man growled, “We are not!”

Sehun nodded his head in full disagreement.

“Baekhyun hyung, you’re wearing mud and leaves. Also, you pretend to be primitive but I caught you making a campfire and roasting marshmallows. Where’d you even get that?”

Minesok spoke, “The jungle provides.”

“Actually, I gave them that.” A separate voice chimed in, and soon a man in attire similar to Sehun’s appeared.

“I’m so sorry these two interrupted your tour,” the man spoke to an utterly confused Chanyeol, stretching his hand out to him. “Kim Jongdae. Biologist and meteorologist,” he introduced, shaking Chanyeol’s hand.

“Uh, Park Chanyeol… photographer?”

The two broke away and Sehun crossed his arms.

“These two, believe it or not, are actually my associates. They believe doing this makes them better scientists.” Jongdae explained, making Chanyeol nod his head as if it was now suddenly perfectly normal, perfectly understandable.

“That seems cool.” Chanyeol spoke.

Sehun pulled a face.

Baekhyun quipped, “Do you want to join our tribe?”

“Ya! I will not have you pull a Jongin here!” Jongdae scolded.

“Kai joined voluntarily.” Minseok spoke.

“Jong-in, his name is J o n g i  n!”

Sehun huffed, “Ye, it’s been fun. Let’s go back now Chanyeol.” Chanyeol suddenly frowned, “Mwo? But they just got here.”

Sehun shot him a look, “So you’re staying.”

Chanyeol was silent. Minseok and Baekhyun cheered and started doing their chant again. Chanyeol turned to Jongdae, who was shaking his head in disagreement.

He pursed his lips, “Alright. I’ll go with you Sehun-ie.”

Jongdae let out a breath of relief.

Sehun scoffed and started walking off, “Don’t call me that.”

Don’t mess up my tempo Deureobwa igeon chungbunhi I said don’t mess up my tempo Geunyeoui mameul humchil beat Eodiedo eopseul rideume matchwo 1, 2, 3 Don’t mess up my tempo Meomchul su eomneun ikkeullim

[izuochaweek]

Inner Peace (IzuOcha Week Day 7)

It was eerily quiet at the dorm of Class 1A. It was not because there were no people in it. Izuku Midorya watched his friend from across the room. She had been sitting on the couch holding her legs, gaze distant and dissociated. It pained him to see her this way. Someone like her was not supposed to look like that. He would do anything just for her to smile again.

The day before, Izuku was assigned to help Ryukyu and her interns on patrols. He was about to meet up with Tsuyu and Ochako in their patrol when they were suddenly attacked. A group of villains had ambushed them. They were doing well but apparently the ambush was just a ruse, when two men on motorcycles passed by shooting at them. Tsuyu managed to avoid the bullets but unfortunately, Ochako was hit by one of them.

They were given the day off. Principal Nedzu, All Might, Eraserhead, and Recovery Girl were being debriefed on what happened. Before they left, Izuku was tasked to look after her.

“Uraraka-san,” Izuku said as he sat down beside her.

“What is happening to me?” Ochako asked desperately. She looked so lost and conflicted.

“Whatever it is, I’m sure it’s only temporary,” Izuku answered. “Remember when Tamaki-senpai got hit with that bullet and lost his quirk? He got it back. Right?”

“You’re forgetting that Togata-senpai was also shot by those bullets and lost his quirk permanently!” Ochako countered.

“True,” Izuku said turning to face her. He had never felt so helpless. “Well all I’m saying is… Kami! What am I saying?”

“I know what you’re trying to do,” Ochako said as she took his hand. “And I appreciate it, really.”

“The moment they get back, we’ll go to Recovery Girl. She’ll be able to help you,” Izuku said. “In the meantime Ochako, you need rest.”

“No! I can’t! I have to keep training,” she argued. She stood her seat about to go to her room to change. “My parents are counting on me.”

“Don’t worry about that right now,” Izuku said. Pulling her back down to her seat. “Just rest.”

“Deku-kun,” Ochako said. Placing her head on his shoulder. “Will you stay with me for a little while?”

“Of course,” he replied, wrapping his arm around her. Resting his head on top of hers. “I’m not going anywhere.”

 A training exercise where she was paired with Bakugo ended in their lost. In his anger, he took to blaming her. Calling her quirkless and useless, inciting the anger of Izuku. The two had a big fight where they both ended up bandaged and house arrested again.

Izuku woke up in the infirmary. The white ceiling and the smell of peroxides was unmistakable. He sees Ochako hunched over her chair.

“Uraraka-san,” Izuku called.

“Deku-kun?” She said. Lifting her head, one could see the lines under her eyes.

‘She’s been crying,’ Izuku thought. He gave her a nervous smile. “How long was I out?”

“A few hours,” Ochako answered. “Deku-kun, thank you for what you did but don’t be so reckless next time. Bakugo was just blowing off steam. You didn’t need to confront him for me.”

“Of course I did,” Izuku argued. “He can say whatever he wants about me but I will not let him…”

“You shouldn’t Deku-kun!” Ochako interrupted. She was feeling angry, frustrated and guilty. “He was right. I was useless during that exercise. Now that I’m quirkless… You… You wouldn’t understand.”

“I understand how it is Uraraka-san,” Izuku said empathetically.

“How would ya know what t’is feels like!?” Ochako shouted at him. “You were blessed with such an amazing quirk!”

“I do because the amazing quirk that you’re talking about isn’t mine,” Izuku told her calmly. A memory of Shinso yelling something similar during the sports festival played in his mind.

“Huh?” Ochako said in confusion and frustration. “What the hell are ya talking about?”

“I’m saying that until the entrance exam, I was quirkless,” Izuku answered.

He told her everything. His past, One For All and his duty to stop All For One. Her face changed from one part of the story to the next. Hearing this, Ochako felt helpless. She was already a burden to him. She did not want to add to his already insurmountable responsibilities. Her line of thought spiraled down and she became more depressed.

“What if this is it for me, Deku-kun?” Ochako asked in despair. “What if the rest of my life is like this? What then?”

“Then we’ll deal with it,” Izuku answered. Hands placed her shoulders. “Just because you’re quirkless doesn’t mean you’re helpless.”

“But that’s exactly how I feel!” Ochako emphasized meekly.

“Ochako, you and I have been through everything together. You don’t think we can handle this?” Izuku reasoned. He then looked her straight in the eye and with uncharacteristic confidence he said. “Ochako, you have me, no matter what. Okay, whatever that means, whatever you want it to mean. For better or worse, in sickness or in health, I am with you. There will always be Izuku and Ochako! Always!”

‘He didn’t?’ Ochako screamed in her mind. All thoughts of the earlier predicament was halted as a new one took priority. ‘Did he just?’

Their face flushed. A warmth encompassed them as the smiled at each other. Going with the mood, Izuku leaned as Ochako closed her eyes.

“A phone call is here! A phone call is here!”

The two internally cursed whoever was on the other end of that phone call for interrupting their moment. Izuku begrudgingly took his phone from his pocket. Having half the mind to drop the call.

“Hello?” Izuku said.

“Midorya! Is Uraraka with you?” Recovery girl asked.

“Uh, yes,” Izuku answered.

“Great! I will get there in an hour or so,” Recovery Girl ordered. “I might have something that could help her.”

“Really!?” Izuku said. A relieved smile appeared on his face as tears fell from his eyes. “Thank you Recovery Girl. You don’t know how much this means to her.”

“So what did Recovery Girl want Deku-kun?” Ochako asked. To which he responded with a smile.

Izuku told her that Recovery Girl was coming. When she arrived, she administered some sort of vaccine to the semi-quirkless girl. Ochako had to undergo something akin to physical therapy for her quirk but in the end she was able to use her quirk again.

 A week later, the duo can be found sitting at Dagobah Beach. Watching the sunset. They enjoyed the sound of waves crashing on the shore, calmness that being with the other brings them, and the peace of mind that no matter the obstacle, they will overcome it. Afterall, they had each other.

“Are you sure you’re feeling ok?” Izuku asked her worriedly.

“I’m fine, Deku-kun,” she answered. A little annoyed because this was probably the thousandth time he asked that question in the last hour. “You can stop worrying about me now.”

“I never stop worrying about you,” Izuku said in a ‘matter of fact’ manner. “That’s just the way it is.”

Ochako laughed which confused the green-haired boy. “What are you my parents?”

“Hey!” Izuku protested.

“It’s alright.” Ochako said. “It goes for me too.”

“Hmm?” Izuku hummed.

“I worry about you too,” Ochako said before lecturing her best friend.

She listed out the events to which caused him injuries. When she finished scolding him, it amused her how the boy could manage to look guilty and adorable at the same time. Izuku looked like child who was just caught with their hand in the cookie jar. Feeling a bit guilty for sending him into that state, she decided to change subjects.

“Deku-kun, can I ask you something?” Ochako asked.

“Sure,” Izuku answered.

“Um… Back when Recovery Girl called you. When you helped me with my meltdown,” Ochako said. “Uh…”

“Yeah?” Izuku replied curiously.

“Were you about to…” Ochako asked.

“Oh, uh… So you remember that,” Izuku answered. His cheeks turning red and a sheepish expression on his face. “I was kind of hoping you didn’t.”

“Why didn’t you?” Ochako said matching the shade that he adorned.

“Oh… Uh… Erm,” Izuku stumbled.

“Why didn’t you?” Ochako repeated sadly.

“Huh?” Izuku sounded. “It’s because you were so vulnerable. Doing that during your time of weakness felt like taking advantage of you.”

“I see,” Ochako said with relief. There was only one thing left to ask. “Deku-kun, do you like me?”

“Yes,” Izuku answered almost automatically.

Releasing a breath that she did not know she held. Hearing him say those words, cleared the fog that was clouding her mind. Quieted the noise in her head. Her stormy emotions calmed. Her confusion disappeared and everything became clear. For once since a long time, she felt at whole. She felt at peace.

‘It was all so simple,’ Ochako thought. ‘How could I have been so stupid?’

“Uraraka-san?” Izuku called. He turned her way but was tackled to the ground. Something soft and warm were on top of his lips. Tears landed on his skin.

“Thank you, Deku-kun, for everything!” She said before resting her head on his chest and let all her worries of the world melt away.

[luna-paradoxz]

Morgan's Truth

Summary - When Morgan was called to another world he received hope again but only to fall into the despair once again. Maybe he was not destined to have a happy ending.

A/N - If you want to support me buy me a Ko-fi or you can commission me. 

He felt a very weird feeling as he was suddenly pulled in by a greater force in a portal connecting to someplace. He first felt panic overcome him but then when he saw only white light around him he wondered if the gods had finally shown mercy on him and sent him to the heaven. His monster laughed in his head, 'There is no ways we are going to heaven.' He snided snickering and he felt familiar hatred rising in his heart. He hated it for being so truthful for making him unable to even for a sec to look away, to live in a blissful lie. He so hated it. And the worst part it kind of sounded like his mother, no that was not his mother anymore, Grima that's right the fell dragon that was what that body was now. Years later and finally he was able to understand, accept that that thing was not his mother, she could never have been, she would have never done such horrible things, never would have said him to do such horrible things. That was Grima, both body and soul was now of that wretched dragon. But even after accepting the truth he still couldn't stop listening to her. He had proven true to his wretched blood, he had become a grimelal too, willingly. How he hated himself, how he would always hate himself for that.

The white light was slowly fading and some kind of ancient altar was appearing and he could see figures of some people around it. He squinted his eyes trying to make them out, trying to recognize them. He closed his eyes as he felt some kind of powerful push and then poof he was standing in front of a person wearing a golden robe which eerily looked similar to his mothers, actually the person themselves reminded him of his mother a lot. If it was not for the fact that their face, built and every physical aspect was different he might have started crying and hugging the person. They smiled kind of warm and welcoming, it kind of reminded him of his father, the valiant king of Ylisse and Naga's son. The smile he wore when he recruited people for his cause. Without thinking he felt calmer and more trustful around them. The robbed person offered their hand and in a smooth but experienced voice said.

"Hello, I am the summoner of this world, Kingdom of Askr. You a brave hero has been called upon to help our cause, to help us save our kingdom. Do you wish to join us?" His voice was soothing and so blissful that without even doubting for a sec, he took his hand and agreed smiling wide and then a blonde girl, holding a silver lance bounded to him and excitedly asked him about himself and for the first time in years he felt his excitement coming back.

He grinned wide and boastfully introduced himself, "I am Morgan, son of the genius taction Robin!" He said it so proudly that his heart hurt in happiness, after so many years he could say it so cheerfully, so pridefully to someone. The people eyes widen and flickered in recognization and at that Morgan at once realized if he, someone like him, was called to this world as a hero then his mother would definitely be here.

"Is my mother here by any chance?" He asked calmly but on the inside, his heart was thumping as he prayed to every god and especially naga that they would mercy him this and just let him once, just once, again see his mother. It seemed they did mercy on him as all of them excitedly nodded and then the girl took his hand and started pulling.

"Come on I will take you to her." She said grinning quite excited, almost as excited as him. He smiled back gratefully.

"Thank you um.." He finally realized he had not gotten any of their names. They seem to notice this too and then chuckling introduced themselves as they walked back to their castle. The blue haired was the prince Alfonse, the blonde girl was Princess Sharena and the redhead Anna was Anna but of this world and their commander. He was slightly surprised to see an Anna as something else other than mercenary, but with some talk he realised quickly on the inside she was the same money loving sister as her all other sisters. Which made him slightly relieved. He silently chuckled at that.

They reached and the princess loudly in front of all kinds of people called out for his mother, and his heart thumped in both excitement and fear. And the monster reared his head, 'What is she was actually Grima, what if she hates you after knowing who you are, what if she is disappointed you?' The last one hurt a lot, just the thought of his mother to be disappointed in him made his heart lurch deep into the dark abyss of his. He shook his head and tried to bring out the once lost positivity he used to be famous for. 'This is the mother I know she would never do any of that.' Still, his heart was thumping loud and finally, after what seemed like ages a person called back. And that voice, just hearing that voice was enough to bring him to tears.

"Yes, Shareena?" She called out from somewhere on the inside, he stifled silently as he tried to find her but to his disappointment, he couldn't locate her silhouette anywhere. He still felt so happy that voice just like the one he always loved, just like the one he always heard in his dreams. Finally, he could hear it again. He won't mind being thrown in hell anymore.

"I have a wonderful surprise for you." She giggled as she replied.

"Ok. I'll be there in a min." The woman called out obviously confused but the same old gentle one who went along with all of her friend's whims. He loved that part of her and he wished how he could have had that then maybe he would not have made that terrible mistake at that time. He heard some shuffling and the summoner went in front of him and called out,

"Everyone," He asked for their attention calm but authoritative, just like her again, "We have a new hero today. Let's welcome him." As he announced Robin had finally appeared and instantly their eyes met and he felt frozen. And his first thought was would she recognize him? He had changed his appearance as Grima didn't like seeing his striking resemblance to the late Chrom. It hated seeing his hair which belonged to only Naga's sons. On its order, he had turned his hair purple just like his eyes.

He stopped breathing as they stared at each other. It almost seemed like time had stopped and then the spell broke as a deep voice called out his name.

"Morgan?" Chrom, his father asked surprised and he had to gulp hard as tears started forming in the corner of his eyes. It cant be father, his father was alive, and smiling and calling him out once again. He must have actually done something good in his pitiful life to have deserved such a gift. But then another feminine serious voice called his name too and he actually cried this time, this was definitely a miracle. If he was sleeping please let him sleep forever.

"Morgan? Is that really you?" He understood Lucina's question but he was frozen too overcome with happiness that he couldn't even move a muscle save for crying and then finally the one thing he had wished every single waking moment of his pitiful life. He finally felt her warm again. Robin threw her arms around him and squeezed him tight. He chocked no longer able to hold his tears and they feel freely on her purple coat. That coat oh how he so wished to see it again, the smell, the aged smell of papers, ink and a sweet one all mixed in, his favourite smell. Oh how much he wished to smell that again.

A big warm hand came and ruffled his hair and he just buried his head fully giving in he didn't care anymore what happened to him this was more than enough for him. Lucina stood on their side smiling warmly and then their father grinningly pulled them all in a family hug and the three laughed. And Morgan had never heard more beautiful voice ever. From somewhere he could hear people chattering, saying something to each other, explanations and such but he listened to none. Right now he forgot about everything even himself and just enjoyed the warmth of his family. 'The warmth you don't deserve.' He even ignored his monster he could care less. Only the warmth mattered.

But they separated and the loss felt too heavy but his mother had pulled him back and stared into his eyes, smiling that gently motherly smile which made his heart clench and tears flowed more. She wiped them away and gently said,

"Morgan its ok. We all are again together." Oh, she understood him so well it was a pain, a wonderful pain. He felt his throat constricting and the tears flowed fast she, finally she had called his name and he promised that from now no matter what happened he was going to protect this.

He didn't deserve all this but he would be damned to let it go once again.

After few months he had finally gotten used to Askr and all the people around. The weirdest thing getting used to was meeting the male version of his mother and the female version of himself but now he saw them as his uncle and sister so it had become easier. It seemed Lucina did the same but unlike him, she didn't outright call him uncle or her sis. Well calling them Robin and Morgan was way too weird for him and it didn't seem they minded instead it seemed they were quite happy to be called that. He got along well with his now second sister. She was just like him, well that was kinda expected but one thing was different she didn't remember anything about her past but she remembered the future she had gone to and helped her father and others save. It made him realize that she unlike him was from another timeline the time where she had not made the choice he had made and hearing that had given him some kind of peace. He hoped that he himself had one timeline where he also had made the right choice.

According to his family and friends, it seemed he had and he was never more glad to know about the future. They had asked if he remembered their time but he feigned his amnesia which he seemed to have in that timeline. They all seemed disappointed but he didn't care he would never tell them the truth. They all will forever hate him if he did that.

But then one day the heroes from the arena had returned home battered tired but on a look at them and he felt his heart stop. Grima, Grima it was Grima. Why? Why? Why? Why? No no, it cant be he had finally found peace, not again, never again. He seemed to have started shaking without noticing but his family noticed and they immediately stood in front of him protective, glaring at him in warning. He had failed to notice that this grima was his (self-proclaimed)uncle not his mother.

"Morgan it's ok, he will never do anything. I won't let him lay a single hand on you." His mother told him soft, protective and assuring. The voice of a mother lioness and he instantly felt calm and safety enveloping him even though his mind raced he just couldn't feel any danger anymore. He also noticed that his father and sister with hands on their falchion silently promising that too. And he felt like a child again being protected by them but this time instead of feeling annoyance he felt thankfulness.

Grima glared back but he looked confused as their eyes meet and he finally could see that this Grima was not it and he felt relief flooding him. As his body relaxed instantly his family's relaxed too but they still remained protective. But then his mind started thinking for another reason, if his master was his mother Grima then his uncle's Grima would be; His mind made the connections and he immediately searched for his sis. In front of her uncle and the Christmas outfit wearing Chrom stood same way protective but they seemed more fierce. Almost as if one move and they were ready to fight him to death. That gave him slightly relief that she was being protected. He then looked at her and to not his surprise actually she just remained confused but still slightly diligent and their eyes meet and he understood the silent question

'Why was everyone so scared?' He slightly wondered too and then remembered his mother words. In his world also no matter how much mentally torturing it was it had never laid a hand on him. So he also didn't understand and that made him think maybe in one world Grima had hurt him and her in some way. And that made him slightly shudder but he shrugged at her. Trying to not give anything away, even though it had been few months he had grown quite protective of her. Maybe it was because she still had that innocence he had lost years ago or maybe it was simply his brotherly instincts. Maybe it was both. No matter what he had vowed to protect both her and his uncle. 

The tension though dissolved as summoner came and gave meaningful glances to all of them. They all started calming down and Grima looked away clicking tongue glaring at a wall.

After that day he made sure to always stand between sis and Grima. He was not going to let it corrupt anyone ever again. One victim, him was more than enough.

"Everyone," The summoner called their attention again but this time they all seemed tense and warry and they kept glancing at their family's side. He had a very bad feeling.

"As you know a new Legendary hero has arrived and I was able to call them in our world but," that but was the worst but ever, the suspense was making his blood rush, his heart thumping in anxiety and he without noticing had tensed up everywhere. His family had tensed up slightly too as the summoner was looking at them with pity in their eyes.

"I am sorry. It seems just like Robin. Grima also had two different genders." And his heart stopped as the words registered in his brain. His monster laughed in his mind and he felt his finally repairing heart dying again. Ah! Really he never was going to get his happy ending, was he?

A woman came flowing in surrounded by that purple dreaded aura, smirking she looked down on all of them as she located his mother, her smirk widen but her mother glared back tightly holding her tome. Chrom and Lucina though moved forward and like last time stood protectively in front of her, hands tightly holding their falchions. He should do the same thing but he was frozen it the place. Every muscle of his refusing his command and he felt that absolute control of it surging through his body again. He hated it but he was a coward nothing like his parents or sister, he couldn't fight it. He never could.

Their eyes met finally and she smirked wide. "Oh!" Her deep voice said and he was falling into the abyss again.

They stood in the hall again, he surrounded with his family but again his eyes involuntarily went to it no her. And then his mother asked him what was wrong as without noticing he had tensed up again and he was going to open his mouth just to remove it all just to finally confess his sins and get the cleansing he so wished for, desperately. But she was one step ahead of him like always, she put her index on her lips and smirked and he got the silent order.

And like always he obeyed. A good son he was.

A/N- Omg! I have fallen in Fe hell especially FeA. The only game I have played fully till now. I have started fates but it's only halfway done. But FeA was too amazing so I had downloaded FeH anything to get more of my beloved F!Chrobin family. Yes, I ship them too much actually. And after I had started playing I saw the headcanon in the fandom about how Morgan maybe from the DLC future past and cue my writing impulse overflowing and I wrote this fic full in one shot. Not the best one indeed but its a start and you can dan bet I'm writing more for FE fandom. It has too many otps of mine.

I am not a big fan of angst, I have always loved good endings but this one was too sweet to not write. I just love my blueberry son and writing him agnostic is way more fun than I imagined. I also maybe you noticed made sure to not mention any gender or name for the summoner because everyone has their own image of summoner so I wanted to let everyone just imagine them as theirs. The other is I didn't make any pairing for Male Robin. I actually slightly ship him with Cordelia and Tiki but since this fic is all about the whole Grima and Naga drama I decided keeping only Chrom and Robin and Lucina was enough and obviously slightly Askr noble because well they need to be there. So you are free to imagine him with any girl you ship him with. And I know I changed some game elements but they are just my own interpretations of the game world you are free to interpret it however you like.

Well, that's that hope you like this fic and look forward to my other Fe fics which will come well, someday. Hehe.

Thank you for reading this and like always if you like it favourite and/or review.

Xoxoxo, Luna.

[istheresomebodywhocanimagine]

Because I’m selfish could you do a shipping me with members thing? I’m short, half Greek and Scottish but raised in Australia (yes, I do have an accent) I have really long brown hair and hazel eyes, and I play bass and sing. I love to read and write, and I almost always have headphones on and music blasting. I also am a drama student and I love to act. Thank you so much xxxxx Love your blog btw.

hi! don’t feel selfish for this, i’mma keep it real with you pal - i have asked for several ships before nO SHAME

anyways, in relation to BoRhap - I ship you with Gwilym!!! At first I was going to say Joe, but I think I see you meshing with Gwilym really well:

When Gwilym got cast as Brian in BoRhap, you were the first one he called. First, to break the news. Second, to ask you for a little help brushing up on his skills. He knew you played bass, and it wasn’t exactly lead guitar, but he still wanted to know all of your little tips and pointers in case there was something he could use when he finally met Brian.

In fact, he came over the next day with his guitar, already ready to learn. You were happy to oblige, but you admitted to him early on that you didn’t exactly know how well you’d be able to translate your bass-centered ideas to the guitar.

“What’s different about the two?” he’d asked, seated across from you and leaning forward over his guitar, genuinely interested in what you had to say. He considered you a great mind on the subject.

“Well, the mechanics are similar, you know, as far as that goes, but the fingerings aren’t going to be the same…” you rambled on for a minute, Gwil transfixed by everything you were saying.

After you were done speaking, he’d grinned at you proudly. “You’re brilliant, love.”

He calls you brilliant a lot, actually. It’s his favorite thing to say to you, because of the way your eyes light up when he says it. They are already brimming with all kinds of energy, but after he calls you brilliant - that’s when he’s the most captivated.

You heard that word - brilliant - coming out of his mouth the most often when he was reading over your latest writing, no matter what style it was. Poetry, prose, he loved it all. 

“Can I keep this one?” he’d asked one time, holding up a piece of prose you’d written specifically about him. You grinned and took it back from him, looking over it for a moment.

“What’s so special about this one?” you’d asked as you sat back on the bed, preferring the poem you’d written about him a few months ago much more than this piece. But boy, did he have an answer for you. In fact, you’d never heard someone speak as passionately about something as Gwil would once he got going.

He stood up and gave you a 10 minute speech about why he thought you should let him keep that short story, introduction, body, and conclusion to the speech all included.

“So, can I?” he’d asked after a moment of you sitting there, dumbfounded. He gave you a toothy smile as he sat back down next to you.

“You were definitely born to be an actor,” you mumbled, handing the prose to him and shaking your head in disbelief at how much he’d fought for those two pages of writing. That’d gotten a chuckle out of him, and he peppered the side of your face with kisses before happily taking the story back.

Speaking of acting, Gwil LOVED coming to your performances. He took a whole week off of filming once just so he could see every night of your theater company’s Anything Goes. 

He’d posted a big long paragraph about your performance after opening night, telling all of his loyal followers how brilliant you had been, and how proud he was of you. And, of course, he’d put some sentences in there about how much he loved you and loved going on this journey with you.

And then Joe commented “-Bri” just to make fun of how eerily alike Gwil was to his elder double. Classic Joe.

Now, if we’re talking Queen, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I really think I ship you with Roger - HEAR ME OUT, I have some (probably weak) reasons:

The reason I think you’d caught Roger’s eye before any of the other boys is because of your accent - he’d latched onto it almost immediately after hearing you speaking to Deacon, who had hired you as a bass tech. You were both eagerly discussing some kind of system that Roger hadn’t a clue about, but your voice was like a drug to him.

He’d made a point of inserting himself into the conversation, introducing himself and chastising John a bit.

“How come I haven’t met your friend here sooner?” Roger scolded John playfully, John just laughing and shaking his head.

“This is Y/N, she’s my new tech. I figured I’d introduce her to the most sane members of the band first, but first I have to figure out who those are.”

You’d laughed at that, particularly because of the mock hurt on Roger’s face before he’d reached out to shake your hand, you introducing yourself this time.

“That accent,” he’d had to point out, letting go of your hand, “Where is it from?”

“Australia. What about yours?” you’d countered, noticing a bit of a different lilt to his words than John’s.

Roger scoffed at that, shrugging. “Cornwall. Exciting stuff, eh?”

After that day, he��d always find reasons to come and talk to you, sometimes the reason being no better than him wanting to hear your accent.

The day Roger realized he actually might fancy you was when he’d noticed you writing on one of the off days and asked to see a sneak peek of what you were doing. Roger loved writing songs, and wondered if you had any good material.

You did. In fact, he was thoroughly impressed by your work, and spent the rest of the day work-shopping with you, which spilled over into a late night coffee run before it was time to go hop on the bus to head to the next tour stop.

You were in the coffee shop, talking about what Queen had coming up after this tour, when Roger had redirected the conversation.

“You know, I’ve never asked, what did you study back home?” he’d inquired, curious to see what kind of person you were. He’d pegged you as some sort of major similar to John based on your identical knowledge of his bass, so he was pleasantly surprised when you revealed that you were a drama student. “An actor, huh? That must be why you’re so seemingly interested in all of Brian’s stories. God, explains so much now.”

You had to laugh at that, shaking your head. “No, no, Brian actually has some good stories and knows how to tell them. Now you, on the other hand…” you’d trailed off, Roger recoiling in slight insult at what you’d suggested. 

Someone who could keep up with his humor and insult him while they were at it? You were growing on him quickly.

One thing he always really enjoyed doing once you grew more comfortable around him was (carefully) taking your headphones and listening to a little bit of whatever you were currently listening to.

At first, it annoyed you a bit, but when you realized he was genuinely wanting to pick up on some of your music taste, you allowed it to happen with little to no issue. 

Also, he’d started slipping you song recommendations on tapes of his, labeling them cute things and drawing little smiley faces on them. Though it was difficult to understand his scrawlings sometimes, you cherished those tapes.

While we’re talking about songs, Roger liked to hear you sing. One time, you were trying to explain a part of the song where you thought Deacon wasn’t getting a good sound out of his bass to another tech, and you started singing the chorus part where it started sounding off.

Roger was, for lack of better words, shook.

Like, he loved your voice.

So, clever little gentleman he is, he found a way to start getting you to sing around him more by pretending to hear issues with the bass in the songs they’d play during their sets.

“It was like, it was muted during the last part of the second chorus, you know?” he’d said one time, working his way into it nonchalantly. “Like, the part where, you know, Fred goes, ‘and I love the things…’“ he’d trailed off, pretending not to remember the next part.

You thought for a moment, then you sang in a soft voice just to clarify.  “And I love the things, I really love the things that you do, oh, you’re my best friend? That part?”

“Yeah, yeah!” he’d say, smiling and pointing at you like you were a genius for remembering the simplest lyrics in the whole set.

You caught on after a few times of false alarms from him, but you let him keep believing that he had you right where he wanted you. It was honestly really cute that he’d go through so much work to hear you sing, even if he didn’t necessarily need to try that hard.

(But don’t tell him that, for God’s sake.)

[tiraviarp]

To Embody and Preserve

(A clean version of this story can be found here.)

“…Ah, he iš finally awakening.”

R’thipra felt like a drop in a bucket of water. Ephemeral, a single unit among the mass, barely aware of its own existence.

It was a familiar sensation. Waking up from having passed out, eerily similar to when he would awaken stained in blood and surrounded by cross-sections of what were once people. Feeling the scratch and itch of something in the back of his mind.

The only difference was that, when the Inner Beast took ahold of him, he was usually alone. Alone in the Shroud, with simultaneously more and less time to grab ahold of that droplet of consciousness and climb the ladder to true awakeness.

But now, it felt as though there was even less of himself than usual. Why?

He could hear the voice of someone speaking beneath the water, voice choppy and odd.

Was he in the care of someone?

Who?

The more he strained to awaken, the more sensation he felt. A blanket covering his body, another blanket with gritty sand below him, the musty smell of old boxes around him…

And the all-too-familiar feeling of his lifeblood, his aether, being wrenched from his very being. His dim consciousness was awake enough to recognize the danger, but not awake enough to do little more than whimper and tense up.

“R…R’pahfu…”

“I am šorry. Juš† a momen†.”

He heard the sounds of footsteps displacing sand retreating. In tandem, the tearing, pulling sensation melted away, and he could breathe easier.

R’thipra was ready to open his eyes, but he knew one more thing must be done.

“…Glasses?”

“†here iš none here, R’†hiþra. You did no† own any when I found you, and I do no† know if you ©ould have dreššed in †hem…©onšidering your š†a†e.”

Ah. So he hadn’t been rid of his predicament after all. It would help explain why he felt especially odd.

R’thipra slowly opened his eyes. He was in a red tent of some sort. The rugs and blankets on the ground did little to ward off the sand scratching at his clothes, but at least it was cool. R’pahfu sat among the blankets in the opposite side of the tent, watching him with a little smile.

He didn’t need to ask where he was. Everything bad happened to him in Thanalan, of course.

“I have þa†©hed uþ your woundš. Why were you figh†ing †he beeš? You do no† šeem †ha† dešþera†e for work.”

Because maybe, just maybe, breaking his glamour would rid him of this curse?

“I was helping someone…being attacked. It seems they left me for dead.”

R’pahfu smiled a bit more. “Your ©oin iš š†ill wi†h you. I know †heše þeoþle, †he oneš near †he beeš. You are for†una†e †hey lef† i† on your þeršon.”

His tone was so light, R’thipra couldn’t tell if his lie was bought or called out. But before he could respond, the Warden’s Word spoke once more.

“Wha† haš haþþened †o you, R’†hiþra?”

What indeed. He could almost laugh at how his accident was simultaneously a boon and unfortunate. Cosplay was meant to have you embody a character.

He had gone a step further, apparently.

“…What do I look like, first of all…?”

“I have been able †o ©leanše †he helme† on your fa©e. †he laš† †ime we me†, you had þurþle hair and þurþle brandš under your eyeš. Now, you have brown hair and red brandš.”

“Brown…and red?” Yet another thing he didn’t dictate when making this glamour.

Wait. Was it pulling from…?

“Are you sure it’s red? Not…pink?”

In the corner, R’pahfu squinted at him and canted his head. “I would need †o ©ome †here †o make šure.”

“T-Then, it’s okay-“

“I† iš fine, R’†hiþra. I know how my body iš. †ru†hfully, I muš† ©ome †here †o š†ar† healing you anyway.”

R’thipra held back a whine that was building in his throat. He could feel himself tensing up all over again. “Is it necessary…?”

The look that the Word gave him was as apologetic as it was sweet. “I† iš how I ©leanšed †he helme†, R’†hiþra. Would you like me †o þu† you †o šleeþ aš I work? I know I am…un©omfor†able, ešþe©ially †o šomeone of fire aš you.”

No. No, no, no. The mere idea of the forced helplessness sent a shiver down his spine.

R’pahfu must’ve read his thoughts on his face. “…Šome find †ha† diš†ra©†ion helþš. I ©an šþeak of your ©ondi†ion while I work, if you þrefer.”

Was this the only option he’d be allowed? He knew that the other only had the intention to help, but…

“Rhylbryn and Rhylšoemr have šeen †he benefi† of my ©are. I will no† in†rude on your ©omfor†, R’†hiþra, bu†-”

“A…Alright. Just…go as fast as you can, okay?” The memories of after his surgery were foggy and faint at best, but he did remember how careful R’pahfu was with Rhylsoemr.

There would be no better medic to help him. Such was who he was.

R’pahfu dipped his head, once again giving him a smile. “†hank you. You are brea†hing qui†e hard, †hough. Þleaše, fo©uš on youršelf aš I ga†her my šuþþlieš.”

His heart felt like it was beating out of his chest as well. R’thipra forced himself to breathe in, out. In, out.

“†o begin…” He couldn’t see much of the Word moving around, lying down as he was, but he heard the soft clinking and clacking of gemstones being gathered. “Do you know †he quali†y of your baše energy?”

“It’s…earth, right? But you’ve…mentioned fire before.”

“Mhm. I† iš fain†, bu† i† iš †here. Þeoþle are rarely exa©†ly one elemen†al alignmen†, šo i† iš no† ©auše for ©on©ern. Šu©h iš †he rešul† of ex©hanging your energy wi†h †he world.”

Was it, though? He felt the echo of the itch in the back of his mind.

“Your energy iš very šimilar †o †ha† of Rhylšoemr,” he continued. “†he differen©e iš †ha†, while hiš’ iš ©lear, yourš iš dulled. He iš þrešen†, you are šea†ed behind a window.”

R’thipra squinted. “What…does that mean?”

“I† iš †he rešul† of glamouring. I† will alwayš aþþear and feel duller †han †hoše who do no† ©loak †hemšelveš.”

R’thipra froze, feeling the blood drain from his face. Shit.

R’pahfu came into view, arms full of crystals of various sizes and colors, then stopped to look at him. “Iš šome†hing wrong, R’†hiþra?”

R’thipra swallowed thickly. “Can…other people see that I’m glamoured?”

The Word shook his head. “I þoššešš šenši†ivi†y †ha† moš† o†herš do no†. If †hey do no† know †o šear©h for i†, †hey may no† know.”

Was there anyone with similar sensitivity that he knew? He racked his brain.

“…I† iš imþor†an† †o you, †hen?”

R’thipra mutely nodded.

“†hen I will main†ain i† aš I un†angle wha† iš affe©†ing you,” R’pahfu replied with an easy-going smile. “And I will no† šþeak i† †o anyone. †he þriva©y of my þa†ien†š iš of u†moš† imþor†an©e.”

He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. That was uncomfortably close to becoming something worse. “…Thank you.”

“Of ©ourše. Are you ready for me?”

In, out. In, out. He slowly nodded, trying to force himself to relax. “…Yeah.”

R’pahfu took a step closer, then another. With each step, he could feel the Word’s aether tug at his own, attempting to feed the vortex within his pallid body.

In, out. In, out.

“I had no ©on©ernš wi†h you when we firš† me†.” R’pahfu stood over him now, handling a small translucent green gemstone carefully. He gently set it atop R’thipra’s chest. “Now, i† iš…odd. You are blindingly brigh†.”

“…Bright?”

“Brigh†,” he nodded. As he set a red gemstone down above his head, the Word closed his eyes. “When I firš† šee you, I šee ear†h and fire…bu† †he longer I look, †he more fa©e†š glow, brigh†er and brigh†er, un†il…”

His teeth grit together then, and he opened his eyes, cringing as if from a migraine. “I ©an no longer bear †o look. Like ligh† refle©†ing off þolišhed mirror šurfa©eš. You aþþear aš a whi†e šun, an in†angible ligh† šhell mixed wi†h šedimen†. ©old ligh† wi†h warm ligh† mixed †hroughou†. †wo for©eš no† mean† †o be †oge†her, for©ed anyway.”

It was impossible to tell how much of the dread spreading thick through his veins was because of R’pahfu himself, and how much was because of that description. “Wh…What does that even mean? What does that mean for me? You’re talking like my aether is…corrupted.”

“I† iš, in defini†ion. I† iš no† na†ural þhenomenon.”

This shouldn’t have happened. His method of glamouring was meant to be safe, tailored specifically to his magical capabilities. How could his low capacity for spellwork and glamour lead to corruption? Was it his fault, or was it the tools he was using?

What had gone so, so wrong?

In, out. In, out.

“I† iš for†una†e †ha† my †ime in Eorzea haš le† me exþerien©e ©orruþ†ion in o†herš. Your ©orruþ†ion…i† iš no† unfixable.”

Wait. “It…it isn’t? How do you…?”

R’pahfu had been standing still for quite some time, looking ahead at the tent wall. For a moment, the only sounds that came from him were the gentle clicks of the rocks in his hands rubbing together.

“Will you †ell me how †hiš š†ar†ed, R’†hiþra?”

Of course. It was only natural to start from the beginning in a medical situation. But there was so much to say, so much background information and technicalities that needed to be explained. So long ago, Ezeane had explained it all to him over the course of sennights, due to the intricacies and his inexperience. How was he to explain it thoroughly enough to be of help?

It was all R’thipra could do to try.

“…My glamour works different than usual glamour,” he began with a slow sigh. “My teacher said that I had trouble sensing aether and spells, and for me to try to cast my own magic without being able to feel it would be…hard. Instead of teaching me normal glamour, she gave me a modified glamour dresser that would handle all the spellwork for me. I just had to direct it.

“I…don’t really want to get into why I glamour.” It was hard, suddenly, to look R’pahfu in the eyes. The care and attention coming from him weighed heavy, almost sour. “But my teacher described it as…similar to transformation magic. The glamour dresser, under my instructions, modifies a piece of my aether and molds it into what I want. Once the ‘mold’ is done, more layers of glamour are laid on top of it, until I get my desired look. Most of the time, the layers are related to clothing – I just need to reduce the clothing into glamour prisms, then layer their images on top of the ‘mold’. When my glamour is finished, all I have to do is extract my aether from the glamour plate I bound it to. My aether returns to me modified, and it sort of ‘spreads’ the instructions I made for it all over my body.

“But, um…no matter how many layers of glamour I add, it’s all supported by that ‘mold’ of my own aether. When I apply my glamour and the instructions ‘spread’ over me, all of my personal aether is its foundation, not just that original piece of my aether. It makes it…very fragile. Anything that affects the ‘mold’ affects the rest of the glamour, and if the ‘mold’ – my body - is damaged, it…can’t support the layers on top of it. So, it all crumbles, and I can’t put it back on until I’m not hurt anymore.

“Does…any of that make sense?”

R’pahfu was quiet, wordlessly placing a purpleish-yellow stone on R’thipra’s neck. Though small, it was easy to feel the chill permeating it.

“Your exþlana†ion iš †hankful. Bu†, why do you ©rea†e layerš?”

“It makes it so I don’t have to keep creating infinite glamour plates. I have two copies of plates with the ‘mold’, and to make a new outfit or look, I don’t have to erase them. I just add layers on top of them to customize them, rather than changing them entirely. It’s just simpler that way.”

A reddish stone was set on his shoulder. “You have been doing †hiš for a long †ime, †hen. †hiš iš †he firš† ©orruþ†ion you’ve had?”

He knew exactly how long he’d been doing this, down to the number of days, in fact. But he dared not tell him that.

In, out. In, out.

“…Yes. This is the first time I attempted to modify the ‘mold’, and…I guess I messed up. I…should’ve started from scratch and made a new one, I know that. I just didn’t have the time to.”

“’†ime’?”

“Mhm. It was a last-minute decision, spur of the moment…If I knew I’d be risking corruption just to make some silly event, I wouldn’t have even considered it.”

R’pahfu chuckled lightly, placing a yellowish-green stone on his other shoulder. “If you were †o rea©h aš far aš modifying †he baše of your glamour, would i† really be a ‘šilly even†’?”

R’thipra grunted, turning his head away. He hoped desperately that the other didn’t see the warmth he felt on his cheeks.

“Won’† you †ell me wha† i† waš?”

“It…doesn’t really matter. All you need to know is that I was stupid and modified the ‘mold’ because of it,” he grunted.

“†ha† iš †rue. Bu† I would š†ill like †o hear.”

R’thipra cracked an eye open to stare at him. The Word was still smiling his warm, kind smile, though there was a hint of levity in it as well.

“I don’t even know if you’d understand it. You haven’t been in Eorzea for long, right? This was all new to me, and I’ve been here all my life.”

“Your Fa†her haš †old me you were a hermi† for moš† of your life, you know.” There was a twinkle in the older man’s eye, the smile slipping into a grin. “Our underš†anding šhould be þarallel †hen, yeš?”

He groaned, covering his face with his hands. The embarrassment was stronger than the tingling feeling of faux-claws phasing through his forehead. Stupid stuck-in-place glamour. “Why did he have to say it like that?”

“Oh, he did no†. †ha† waš my addi†ion. Forgivenešš.”

R’thipra spread his fingers just enough to glare up at R’pahfu through them. The other man simply laughed. “I am š†ill wai†ing †o hear wha† i† waš!”

He grumbled. He wasn’t getting out of this, was he? “…Fine. But you’d better not laugh, alright?”

R’pahfu huffed, reaching up to unwrap the long necklace chain from around his neck. It and its three stone pendants were soon placed above R’thipra’s head. “I have heard and šeen many †hingš in my šhor† †ime here in Eorzea, R’†hiþra. Šome wonderful, šome š†range, and šome I ©ould no† grab. I will no† laugh, bu† þleaše know you do no† have †o worry in †he firš† þla©e.”

R’thipra heaved a long sigh, letting his eyes close. “…I want you to imagine a large building. Loud and high-energy music is blaring from every corner in a language you half-understand at the best of times, and there’s people packed in everywhere. They’re all shouting over said music to buy yaoi and other odd things you normally wouldn’t be caught dead reading in public.”

“Yaoi?”

No, no, no. He was not going to go into that. He wasn’t going to explain to his older cousin what yaoi was. “N-nevermind that. The important thing is, it’s a…chaotic environment I could hardly understand. It was…similar to a party, but everyone in all of Eorzea was invited to dress up in strange outfits. It was…very weird.”

R’pahfu’s hands clapped together. “I† waš a ©elebra†ion and a marke† †oge†her, †hen? †ha† šoundš deligh†ful!”

“It was weird,” R’thipra mumbled. “Maybe it’s because I’m not ‘into’ the things they were celebrating. I went mostly to support my friends who were working the event.”

“…Ah. And in order †o a††end †he even†, you had †o make a ©oš†ume, yeš?”

“It wasn’t strictly required, but…it was a cultural thing.” He hesitated. “…I made one at the last moment, using prisms I’d already been collecting. My outfit was turning out well, and I could’ve just left it at that and have avoided all of…this.”

The Word hummed something under his breath. “In †he language you were ušing before…you made a layer over your glamour šafely. †ha† iš wha† you have †riumþhed in doing for šo long. Bu†, you šaid you had al†ered †he ‘mold’ aš well.”

R’thipra swallowed. “I…did, yes. I thought it would make the costume better, and wanted to confuse my friends. As part of a joke, of course. Nothing more.”

“Wha† did you al†er abou† i†, †hen?”

In, out. In, out.

“I, um…removed my tail.”

R’pahfu stared. “You…©u† off your †ail?”

“No, no! Twelve above, no.” R’thipra nearly bolted up from the blanket as a horrified expression dawned on the man. “I-I’d never hurt myself like that. I’m still perfectly intact, I swear.”

“B-Bu†…you šaid you removed your †ail. Wha†-”

“I removed the tail from my glamour,” he spoke quickly. “It was a part of the ‘mold’. What I add or remove from the ‘mold’ doesn’t reflect on my actu- well, um…’unglamoured’ body. Only the ‘mold’ of the glamour that got stuck on me has no tail. It’s just a…”

Well, no. He can’t just say ‘it’s just an illusion’ now that he’s explained how his glamour works. Saying that would only lead to more worried questions.

R’pahfu took his quiet as an opportunity to speak. “…Bu† why would you have your †ail aš a þar† of †he ‘mold’? You have never al†ered i† before. †here iš no need †o have i† †here.”

That was precisely the question he didn’t want to answer. Quick, R’thipra, think of a lie.

“It’s…Well, I’ve never modified the ‘mold’ before this, but I have modified a layer that sits on top of it. With the layer, I can, um…easily change my hair and fur color for a little while, instead of having to dye it and wait for it to fade ou…”

R’thipra fell silent.

Even if he meant it as a way to avoid telling R’pahfu the complete truth, it wasn’t a complete lie. A simple hair color change automatically applied the color to his tail with how he programmed that part of the glamour.

But, he was sure he modified the ‘mold’ correctly. He built it from the ground up – he knew how to add and remove features properly. Right?

Right…?

“…R’pahfu. Are you able to look at where my tail would be?”

The Word lifted his head. Had he been thinking the same thing? “Roll over and I will, yeš.”

As pallid fingers plucked the stones resting on his shoulders and neck, he rolled over onto his stomach. As he turned his head to watch the other man, he caught him right as he closed his eyes.

He was quiet for a long, long time, even as his brow furrowed and his hands clenched around the stones. He watched for several ticks longer than he had before, past the point of headache and the start of shaking. Only when he exhaled a loud hiss did he open his eyes, a free hand coming up to massage his forehead.

R’thipra reached for the waterflask on his hip, offering it over to him. R’pahfu snatched it out of his hands and greedily sucked it dry.

“Hey, um…are you alright?”

Slowly, R’pahfu lowered his hand. “I…believe I may be underš†anding wha† iš going on. You šaid you uše ‘þrišmš’ and ‘þla†eš’, yeš? Do you have †hem?”

With a nod, R’thipra sat up, digging into the pockets hidden by the corrupted glamour. It only took him a moment to unhook the two plates from their belt chain and set them on the least sandy portion of the blanket, along with an unused prism. “Here. The one on the left is the one that caused all of…this.”

Gently, the Word picked up the prism and the corrupted plate, turning them over in his hands. Once with eyes open, then again with eyes closed. He hummed low. “…Yeš. †heše are ©onfirma†ion.”

“Confirmation of…?”

R’pahfu carefully set the objects down, then reached for the stones he’d picked out earlier. “†urn over and I will †ell you. I† iš imþor†an† †o ge† š†ar†ed fixing you, yeš? I† iš no† a qui©k anšwer.”

R’thipra furrowed his brow, but complied.

Once more, the Word began placing the stones in their original places, the cold seeping through his skin and the material of his clothes. “Where †he †ail waš iš a…drain, of šor†š. Hungry, emþ†y, wan†ing †o be ©omþle†e. I† iš †he only þla©e where your energy behaveš †ha† way, oþen like a wound. †he škin haš been †orn off and i† wan†š †o heal.”

So, he hadn’t removed the tail properly, it seemed.

In, out. In, out.

“But…I feel fine, for the most part. If I was leaking aether, I’d feel like something was horribly wrong, right? Ever since this happened, I’ve sometimes felt a bit…tingly, but that’s it.”

He tried not to think about how odd it’d felt to wake up in R’pahfu’s care. Clinging to the ladder rungs, trying to reach consciousness, feeling just that little bit less of himself.

“You are no† leaking, no,” R’pahfu shook his head. He gave a small, wry smile. “Elše I would be be©oming like you. †ha† iš my ©ondi†ion.”

“Then…it’s feeding off something.”

“You šaid †ha† you þla©ed a þar† of youršelf in †he þla†e when ©rea†ing i†, yeš?” Even if he couldn’t turn his head, R’thipra heard the light tap of the Word’s fingernail on the glamour plate. “Your šelf re©ognizeš your šelf aš šafe. †herefore, i† †ried †o reþair i†šelf ušing wha† you š†ored in †here, bu† i† †ook every†hing.”

He stepped away for a moment, returning with an unlit candle.

“W-Wait, I…don’t do well with fire magic.”

“You don’†? You aþþear like you would have a škill for i†.”

R’thipra wanted to shake his head, but dared not risk dislodging the stone on his forehead. His neck twitched regardless. “Just…don’t. Please.”

R’pahfu’s head tilted slightly, watching him for a moment through closed eyes. Eventually, however, he nodded. “†hen I will no†. You are good wi†h fire from flin†, hoþefully?”

He breathed a sigh of relief. Ignored the phantom sensation of claws resting against his jugular. “…Yeah. Flint is fine.”

“†hen, a momen†.”

The unlit candle returned to wherever he’d gotten it from. To his left, R’thipra heard the sound of metal striking on metal. Soon, the Word returned with a lit lantern, flames swaying comfortably in glass.

“†heše þrišmš and þla†eš you uše look like glašš, magi©ked †o š†ore šmall amoun†š of energy,” R’pahfu began. One hand held the lantern above R’thipra’s chest, and the other reached for the prism. “†he energy i† š†oreš iš ei†her your own, for †he þla†e, or †ha† of ©lo†heš, jewelry, and ©oloring, for †he þrišm, yeš?”

Though the gentle flame in the lantern appeared harmless, he didn’t take his eyes off of it. “Yes?”

Then, suddenly, his view of the flame fractaled as the prism blocked his line of sight. Gentle light became harsh and bright, bouncing off the polished planes of glass. R’thipra flinched back with a grimace.

R’pahfu’s Seeker pupils had shrunk dramatically as he stared through the prism, thin black lines against blue-green. “†he wound you made †ook every†hing. †he šelf you þla©ed in †he þla†e, na†urally drawn ba©k †o i†šelf, šþread †he ‘mold’ over you. †he wound wan†ed more, šo i† a†e †he þrišmš whole, ©on†en†š and all. †he ©on†en†š be©ame a þar† of †he ‘mold’, dreššing you in forever armor and drowning your energy in ©old ligh†. If you did no† remove †he abili†y of †he hair ©olor †o þain† your †ail, i† would have been ea†en aš well, †hough i†š effe©†š on †he ‘mold’, I ©anno† šay. No o†her þar† †han your hair iš brown.”

There was another part of him that was brown, though.

In, out. In, out.

“…Did you ever say if the markings under my eyes were red or pink, R’pahfu?”

“†hey are more red, bu† †here iš þink, †oo.”

Fuck.

R’thipra took a deep breath, closing his eyes. The magnified, fractaled flame still burned against the backs of his eyelids. “…So…what do I do, then? How do I…’unfuse’ myself?”

“†he anšwer iš šimþle, †he †e©hnique iš no†.” Suddenly, the harsh light in front of his face disappeared, replaced by gentle warmth again. Then, it was all dark, and he heard the soft ‘clink!’ of the lantern being set on the ground to his left. “We muš† un†angle †he ©orruþ† ae†her from your šelf, †hen šeal †he wound.”

R’thipra peeled his eyes open. The tent was too dark for his liking, too dark to see R’pahfu properly. Hopefully his pupils would adjust soon. “…The difficulty comes from actually separating the aether, I’m guessing.”

“And, main†aining †he glamour you þla©ed on before.” Though he couldn’t see the whole thing, he could see the corners of the other man’s smile.

He’d remembered that? Something pulled at his heart, rendering him silent.

R’pahfu seemed to not notice, reaching for the other glamour plate. “†hiš one iš in†a©†, yeš? I will iden†ify †he edgeš of your original glamour †hrough †hiš. Any energy †ha† iš no† ear†h and fire or in †hiš šhaþe, I will ©leanše from you. I† will †ake †ime, þa†ien©e…”

The Word had trailed off, but R’thipra knew what he meant to say. He was too kind.

In, out. In, out.

“If…if for some reason, you need to strip all of the glamour…you can.”

R’pahfu’s eyebrows raised. “I will no† rišk your ©omfor†.”

R’thipra leveled a hard stare at him. “It’s a health concern. It’s…more important that I get uncorrupted, right?”

The Word glanced away, fingers knotting into the lapel of his robes.

In, out. In, out.

“R’pahfu, please. I…give you permission to do whatever you need.”

Silence.

It lasted worringly long, long enough for him to ready another argument. But then, R’pahfu sighed long, turning back to him. “…Alrigh†. I will do my beš† no† †o do i†, bu†…†hank you.”

Even as his heart thundered in his chest, R’thipra smiled warm and kind to him. “I should be the one thanking you for this.”

Once again, the man’s head ducked away, this time trying to hide a chuckle. “I† iš my job, R’†hiþra. You are family, bešideš!”

R’thipra prayed to Azeyma that stayed the case, if push came to shove.

Then, he paused as he withdrew a gleaming blue crystal from his robes. Even with the dulled senses he apparently had, R’thipra could feel energy spike in the air from it. It was cool, cleansing, refreshing, soothing.

Powerful, yet not something to fear.

The twinkle in R’pahfu’s eye, however, was something to be feared. “If you hoþe †o †hank me, †ell me wha† yaoi iš.”

R’thipra grimaced. “Not a chance.”

“You will agree even†ually!”

Even as a low grumble built in his throat, as the Word set the crystal beside his head, he could feel the tension in his face fade. The stones placed across his upper body basked in the energy, beginning to spread it down the rest of his body.

“…We’ll talk about repayment after this is all done.”

[peterpparkrr]

Changing the Tide: An Avengers Fanfic (1/7)

Summary: Wanda Maximoff is the new girl in town and also reconciling with the death of her twin brother, Pietro. As she starts to navigate her new life she manages to stumble into friendship with a group of teens who are surprisingly similar to her

A/N: This is basically just a highschoolAU for the Avengers without powers. 

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7)

First days had never really been Wanda’s strong suit. And that had been before the accident. Before she’d switched schools. Before a lot of things.

Wanda had been stressing out about today before her family had even moved. Her twin brother, Pietro, had told her that she didn’t need to worry because - like every year - he would be there beside her to help her through. Unfortunately, things didn’t go to plan. Pietro had been hit by a car a few days after they’d moved, he’d been in the ICU for almost a day before it dawned on Wanda that he wasn’t going to make it and she would be alone.

Wanda pushed all of those thoughts from her head as she walked down the hall. The woman in the main office had already given her all of the paperwork, schedule, map with the classrooms labelled, textbooks, and a late pass for when she got to her first hour.

“Hi, Wanda isn’t it?” She heard as a guy jogged across the hallway to her. Wanda nodded carefully, not trusting herself to say anything yet.

“I’m Clint, Clint Barton, I don’t know if you remember me but -”

“The volunteer at the hospital, yes, I remember you,” Wanda said quietly, staring down at her boots, not trusting herself to look in his eyes. He, Clint, had been the student volunteer on duty when Wanda’s brother had been brought in, he had been the one who had snuck her into his room when they wouldn't let her family see Pietro. “Thank you for that, by the way,” Wanda told him, glancing up at him quickly.

“Of course,” he said, quickly dismissing it, which Wanda was thankful for, she didn’t want people’s first impression of her to be that weird new girl who’d broke down in the hallway before school even started.

“Um,” Wanda said awkwardly, “I’d better get to class.”

“Oh yeah! Sorry, I don’t have a first hour so I usually just hang out,” Clint explained quickly, “If at any point today you need help with any of this, let me know.” He told her before flashing Wanda a kind smile and walking back over to the girl with strikingly red hair he’d been talking to.

Wanda nodded quickly before starting again on her path to room 219, her history class.

When she got to class she gave her pass to the teacher, Mr. Coulson. “Nice to meet you Wanda, you’ll be sitting in that open desk, third row, fourth one back.” He told her, “I’m going to assume you have the textbook?”

“Yeah,” Wanda replied as she made her way to her seat as quickly as possible. As she sat down Mr. Coulson started his lecture up again and Wanda started blankly at him for a moment before realizing she was supposed to be taking notes and started rummaging through her bag for her notebook and a pencil.

As Wanda set her stuff up, she glanced over at the guy sitting next to her, who looked way too old to even be in highschool, trying to figure out what she’d missed and what Mr. Coulson was even talking about. The guy glanced over at her and whispered, “If you want I can give you the notes we’ve already taken this year after class.”

Wanda nodded gratefully before turning back to the front of the class and taking down notes of anything that she could catch Mr. Coulson saying.

When the bell rang she sighed with relief, and turned back to the guy sitting next to her, “Could I um… see you notes now?” Wanda asked him softly.

“Oh yeah, of course.” He replied, handing her his notebook, she flipped through and saw that several pages were filled with notes.

“I thought I was only come into school a week late,” she mumbled.

The guy roared with laughter, making Wanda jump slightly, “Don’t worry about it, it looks like a lot but once you get the hand of Mr. Coulson’s lectures it’s no sweat.” He told her, standing up.

“I didn’t catch your name,” Wanda said, looking up at him, realizing now that he was standing up that he was well over six feet tall.

“Thor,” He said with a wide grin, “And don’t worry about getting those notes back to me, tomorrow in class is fine.” He said before walking out of the classroom.

Wanda stood next to her desk for a moment, dumbfounded before remembering that she had another class to get to and hurried out.

Biology, her next class, was a slightly better situation, she got there with a few minutes of passing time left so she introduced herself to her teacher and got some of the work they had been doing, promising that she would get it done as soon as possible so that she didn’t missing anything else. She then went to sit down at one of the tables towards the back of the class and was surprised to see yet another god-like student hovering next to her, “Hi, do you mind if I sit here?”  He asked.

Wanda looked him over, not intentionally, but he was eerily similar to the guy - Thor - from her history class, same blond hair (however, Thor’s was long and shaggy, this guy had it much neater), blue eyes, and almost unnaturally strong build that Wanda had always assumed was reserved for bodybuilders and professional football players, not high school upperclassmen. “Sure,” Wanda said quickly, realizing she’d paused a bit too long.

“I’m Steve Rogers, by the way” He said as he sat down, holding out his hand.

“Wanda Maximoff,” She replied politely, shaking his hand, trying her best to match his manners with her own, “Nice to meet you.”

“You too, now, I probably should have warned you before I sat down, but I’m not amazing when it comes to science, so I’m sorry you’re stuck with me as a lab partner.” He told her, flashing her a grin that shouted All-American-Boy-Next-Door.

“That’s okay, I’m pretty decent at science,” She replied, warming up to him slightly, “As long as you’re okay with me being your lab partner.” She added.

“Of course, why wouldn’t I be?” Steve asked, almost jokingly, “As long as I’m not stuck with Tony I don’t care.” nodding towards a kid who looked more normal, besides the fact that he was surrounded by the remains of some sort of machine, and looked like a toaster. He must of heard Steve mention his name and looked over at the two of them, flashing a smirk before turning back to whatever he was trying to do to that toaster. Wanda couldn’t help but note that engineering had nothing to do with Biology but their teacher seemed to just ignore it as she sat at her desk, setting up supplies for their lab.

“Why wouldn’t you want to partner with him, is he that bad of a person?” Wanda asked, turning back to Steve, raising an eyebrow.

“No, heck, we’re friends, I just can’t stand being partnered with a genius for my worst subject,” Steve told her, “Hurts my ego a bit.”

Wanda laughed slightly, “Fair enough, I’ll try not to make fun of you too much then,” she replied. She glanced back at Tony, her instincts told her not to trust him, he seemed like a player, but she trusted Steve already, he had this good-natured aura about him and if he thought someone was good, she figured she would too.

“Sounds good,” Steve told her has the bell rang, signaling the start of class.

[jessipalooza]

Preoccupied

There was something intimate in the way that Esme ran her hand along the smooth wood of the helm. She knew every split, every stain, every small and natural dip in the craftsmanship. She knew the helm, she knew the deck, the railing, the masts – she knew everything about the ship; her ship. Ever since she had been rewarded it for her services in the Siege, she had kept it close to her. Though she rarely spoke the word, it truly was one of the first places that felt like home to her.

“Too long,” she murmured to herself as she gripped the helm and swept her gaze upwards.

The Widow’s Bane had been docked in the Broken short, and nights in such a place were a mixture of beauty and terror. The stars were unlike anywhere else in Azeroth; they seemed bigger and closer somehow, but the spire of fel erupting from the broken cross way in Suramar – the Tomb, they called it – reminded those that were there of the impending battle.

However, it was amazing how the presence of the Legion had not spoiled everything. The night air was still crisp and fresh, the sounds of the sea were still calming, the twin moons still shone as bright as ever. There was still comfort in the salt-tinted breeze that swept by, gently tugging at Esme’s thick and bright hair.

“I have neglected you,” she murmured to herself yet again, her attention falling back to the helm.

“Stop with that.”

The gruff, lower voice startled Esme out of her thoughts. She turned, tense until she saw the familiar, aged face of her trusted Quartermaster.

“Trinivar,” she said with a slight sigh.

He had not bothered with a coat, and judging by his slightly disheveled appearance, he had recently stirred from his sleep. At least he had his boots on, and they quietly tapped against the deck as he approached her.

“Don’t tell me you’re up here pityin’ yourself, Cap’n. That ain’t like you.”

Esme shot him a flat expression before she heaved a sigh and looked out over the main deck, her gaze lingering over the very few crew members that remained for the night watch. She shook her head before speaking her response clearly, “I am not pitying, Trinivar. I was merely thinking that I have been…preoccupied.”

“Comes with being noble.”

She could not help but release a small breath – a bitter suggestion of a laugh. Again, she shook her head. As another breeze whipped by, she tucked an errant strand of her hair behind a long, pointed ear and let her attention stray towards the sea momentarily.

“I have been preoccupied with Embertree, aye. I have been preoccupied with the Crimson Fleet. I have been preoccupied—”

“—with that felmancer,” Trinivar finished sharply for her.

The two exchanged eerily similar looks.

“Y’think I didn’t seen him on this ship the last few days? Y’think I’d miss him sneaking on’n’off, Cap’n?” Before Esme could respond, Trinivar waved a hand. “It’s your ship. He comes’n’goes at your will. Like he used to. I get it. I ain’t disputing that. But you can’t deny that you’ve been preoccupied with him.”

Esme pursed her lips and looked down to her hand instinctively. In the light of the moons and flickering lanterns, her ring glittered and glinted.

As her attention had been pulled to the ring, so had Trinivar’s. His brows furrowed and there was a flicker of something – sympathy, perhaps – before his expression hardened. He took a deep breath in through his nose and heaved a sigh.

“I get it, Cap’n. I’ve been there.”

“Trinivar, I—”

“Let me finish. Before I just shut up again, let me finish. Do I have your permission, Cap’n?” he asked, looking directly at her.

Esme stared up at Trinivar. Had it been any other crew member that interrupted her, she would have dismissed them immediately, but he had been with her since she had wandered into that seedy tavern looking for help of any kind. He had stood by her through it all over the years.

“…Aye, speak freely.”

He turned to face her squarely. “You’ve been preoccupied. The men understand, but they grow tired of waiting for you. I can command this ship in your absence, but they are not my men, they are yours. They ask for you, Cap’n. You have Embertree and you’ve got our support on that. You have your damn Fleet and you’ve got our support on that.”

There was a pause and Esme’s brows twitched together. “…And the felmancer?”

In the silence that followed, Esme felt her heart being gripped in her chest. She wanted to explain – explain what exactly had her attention with Faervell as of late. She had not been skipping in fields with him. They had not been serenading one another. She had not grown soft. She wanted to explain the Seed to Trinivar. She wanted to explain the sight of Batu, the visions they had seen, the blackness they had managed to purge from Faervell. She wanted to explain the nightmare she had seen.

But she was not a woman that made excuses.

It felt as though hours had passed. Finally, Trinivar stepped forward. Esme tensed out of habit as she so often did when approached. Her shoulders squared, her chin raised, and she readied herself for things that Trinivar had never, nor would ever do.

He did not speak a word. Rather, he took her shoulders in his callused hands. In an act of tenderness she had never seen from her Quartermaster, he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead as a father to a daughter.

Esme did not pull away. How could she? Stunned, confused, and almost overwhelmed by the gesture, she could only stand there. Even as he pulled away, she could only stand and look up at Trinivar with silent questions in her eyes.

When Trinivar finally spoke, his gruff voice was low and in a whisper that was nearly taken away with another breeze.

“Don’t let my life become yours.”

She felt the pang of understanding in her chest. Before she could reach up, he removed his hands and took a step back to something more appropriate for a Quartermaster and a Captain. They looked at one another and before she could speak, he continued.

“…Aye, you’ve got our support on the felmancer. But after you and he speak your vows, after Embertree is cleaned out….”

“There is work to be done,” she finished for him. “There are names not yet crossed.”

Trinivar’s lips twitched beneath his mustache and beard. “Aye, Cap’n.”

“Trinivar…The Lily will be docking here in two days. Once Lucien is here, I will want to gather the men,” Esme said, sweeping her gaze back to the deck. “I think it has been quite long enough since they have heard from me all together.”

With a cant of his head, he followed her attention to the deck. It was as though the two of them could see the last time she had done such a gathering, discussing where she had come from and why their goal was what it was. Why they hunted what they hunted.

“Aye, Cap’n. I think that’d be a good idea.”

[amicicidalgambler]

this log i talked about then forgot to post

nad and vriska talk about mind control and then get derailed by talking about her first mate then get back on track

trolljacksparrow

hey so like

do you feel peoples thinkpans as like

another sense like

could you guess howw far awway someone wwas based on their mind?

amicicidalgambler

Yeah. It's kind of hard to explain how it feels 8ut if I know the space I can tell pretty much exactly where they are.

trolljacksparrow

right??? and could you like

did you evver hit them solely because you kneww their minds wwere there

i mean

okay you dont gun

but like

wwith.............dice?? a magnificent hat???

amicicidalgambler

I mean, yeah, it's good for am8ushes. And if I could control them I could just keep them out of the fight entirely.

trolljacksparrow

wwhat do you havve em do? is it easier if they on some subconcious levval wwanna do it?

levvle

levvel

amicicidalgambler

When I was younger it did. 8ut now I can *make* them su8conciously think they want to do it. I could do anything from making them walk into an attack to making them fall asleep depending on how much I wanted to 8other though.

trolljacksparrow

can /you/ tell if youre making them or not?

amicicidalgambler

Yes. I've taken control of people 8y accident in other ways 8ut the su8tle shit takes more concentr8ion.

It feels totally different, too.

trolljacksparrow

howw does it feel?

amicicidalgambler

...This is a weird comparison 8ut you know how you can wirelessly connect your phone to some shit to control it? It feels like that. I can feel that I'm connected and what they're doing and where they are and I have it as a second output.

While the su8tle shit is more like 8lending my pan with someone else's and 8eing the intrusive thought fairy.

trolljacksparrow

sorry i got a lil bit distracted

huuuuh

INTRUSIVVE THOUGHT FAIRYL O L

and yeah its a reasonable comparison

howw do you unblend your pan, did you evver  mistake someone elses thought for your owwn?

amicicidalgambler

Not really. I'm still in control, it's just a different approach to taking it. In practice it's pro8a8ly more like disguising my control than actually 8lending our pan space 8ut that's...what it feels like when I'm trying to do it?

trolljacksparrow

right, man howw the fuck do you multitask wwhen youre controlling sevveral people though do you like....can your mind just do more stuff at once than other people?

amicicidalgambler

May8e? I wouldn't know how to tell. 8ut also once I get more than two people that's where su8tle control is the most useful. I can just give vague orders like "Attack that person" and they'll each handle the details themselves. The only time I'd have to puppet them is if I need someone to do something they don't know how to do.

Multitasking was also something I trained for a lot.

trolljacksparrow

thats fanscinating

howw does one train for multitasking?

amicicidalgambler

Trying to partner dance with someone I'm controlling.

I had a few people who were willing to volunteer for it.

trolljacksparrow

...howw could anyone vvolunteer?

amicicidalgambler

I mean they volunteered to 8e controlled in the first place. There weren't a lot of people who would do it 8ut there was enough. 8ut most of it was my first m8 8efore she died. She was a psionic and we helped each other with our powers a lot.

trolljacksparrow

wwhat happened to her?

amicicidalgambler

Died in com8at, nothing surprising.

It was unfortun8 8ut 8eing a spotter to a stellar-class psionic stole 20 sweeps off my life so at least she didn't die that young.

trolljacksparrow

spotter?

im sorry she died man

amicicidalgambler

It just means someone who keeps someone safe while they're trying to pull some ridiculous maneuver off. 8ut thanks? She went down how she wanted to go down, that's as much as any8ody can ask for.

trolljacksparrow

yeah, yeah it is...

she sounds fun

partner dancing like that is honestly like....the unsettling and yet slightly romantic aesthetic that you like

amicicidalgambler

You would've liked her. She had a deep love for explosions and wore several packs of glowsticks with everything.

8ut fuck yeah it is.

trolljacksparrow

SHIT THE GLOWWSTICKS ARE SUCH A GOOD IDEA

.......i cant believve you havve a type ://P

amicicidalgambler

Noooooooo.

Shhhhhhhhut up.

trolljacksparrow

ehehehehehehehe

wwaggles eyebrowws

amicicidalgambler

You put those down right now.

trolljacksparrow

raaaaaaaaises them

amicicidalgambler

Wrong. Put them down.

trolljacksparrow

nevverrrrrrrrr

amicicidalgambler

I didn't do anything to deserve this.

trolljacksparrow

you wwere exceptionally gay vvriska

amicicidalgambler

I was *not*.

trolljacksparrow

uh huuuuuh

amicicidalgambler

Led was a friend.

I mean Elodie. Elodie was a friend.

Fuck.

trolljacksparrow

I SEE NICKNAAAAME

amicicidalgambler

Listen.

trolljacksparrow

listennniiiiing

amicicidalgambler

She was a *psionic* named *Elodie*.

trolljacksparrow

still thats such a cute nickname

amicicidalgambler

She started typing mine as Circuit.

trolljacksparrow

adorable????????

amicicidalgambler

Seriously.

trolljacksparrow

absolutely

amicicidalgambler

It's all on her, though.

trolljacksparrown

uh uh

'led'

amicicidalgambler

I have never said that in my life.

trolljacksparrow

uh huuuuuuh

amicicidalgambler

I'm completely innocent here.

trolljacksparrow

you liiiiiiiiked her huh

amicicidalgambler

You're using my 8s against me.

trolljacksparrow

C//:

amicicidalgambler

I don't deseeeeeeeerve this.

...As much as I love talking a8out my powers and 8eing accused of liking my old first m8 too much why were you asking in the first place?

trolljacksparrow

...good question

listen let me just

scroll up to remember

AH YEAH

the godtier shit wworked........eerily similar to that so  i just like

wwanted a perspectivve of someone wwho is used to that shit

amicicidalgambler

Right. Yours practically was a form of mindscourge shit.

Perspective a8out anything specific though or just in general?

trolljacksparrow

wwas it?

just like...i dont knoww howw to begin explaining an entire neww sense, like, added to the touch/smell/sight/wwhatevver

amicicidalgambler

Yeah, it's hard. I mean I've had it my whole life and I still can 8arely explain it. 8ut yes, pretty much everything you told me a8out it reminded me of mindscourge shit, except more specific.

trolljacksparrow

howw do you "see" the thinkpans?

amicicidalgambler

It's like light? 8ut not visual lights. Which makes no sense.

trolljacksparrow

yes

YES!

SAME

dimmed/brighter based on the intensity of their hope

amicicidalgambler

Mine are. Not colored 8ecause I can't fucking see them 8ut I can tell them apart like they were. Especially if I know the person.

trolljacksparrow

yeah like, yeah, i mean i dont physically see them unless i focused on one person and then theyre vvideogame-highlighted wwhich is

if thats a reflection of my subconciousness im just

anywway, yeah, and it doesnt turn off?

amicicidalgambler

I don't get that 8ut looking at someone I'm controlling is still...different.

8ecause I'm connected to them.

trolljacksparrow

howw do you feel the connection?

amicicidalgambler

I mean, like I said they feel like another output. And I can feel however their pan feels.

So seeing them is like

God, what's that picture.

And where did that other dog come from. Who is he.

trolljacksparrow

"trust no one not even yourself"?

FUCK

SHIT

HAHAHAHAH

BEAUTIFUL

amicicidalgambler

IT FEELS LIKE ME!

8UT NOT ME.

trolljacksparrow

wwhat a great descritpion

amicicidalgambler

You know how in every action movie they say your weapon is an ~extension of yourself~ or whatever. It's like that.

trolljacksparrow

flkflgjfdgljkfdl

HIGHFIVVE YOUR WWEAPON

amicicidalgambler

EXACTLY!!!!!!!!

THEY *ARE* MY WEAPON!

trolljacksparrow

beautiful

amicicidalgambler

This is the entirety of what 8eing a mindscourge is like.

trolljacksparrow

surprising amounts of flailing

amicicidalgambler

Yes, it's a lot of flailing, and that's why we're all Like That, it's to compens8.

trolljacksparrow

ovverdramatic?

amicicidalgambler

And edgy. All of us.

All the good ones, anyways.

trolljacksparrow

incredible

edgelord

amicicidalgambler

Excuse you I am an edgemarquise, get it right.

trolljacksparrow

damn it edgeedge

amicicidalgambler

That's me.

The Edgeedge Scorpionscorpion.

trolljacksparrow

best title?

amicicidalgambler

8est title.