#chance pe dance

[silkjade]

FAIREST OF THEM ALL

alhaitham x mermaid!reader au ⤀ synopsis: mermaids, and their vanity, and their affinity for pretty things... who better to admire, than the fairest one of all? ⤀ cw: fem!reader, established relationship, mirror sex, fingering, praise, rough + unprotected sex, size kink, creampie, a lil bit of dom!haitham, overstimulation, cervix kisses, squirting, subspace, vry sweet he’s actually so in love — mdni || ꒰ 5.1k wc ꒱ ⤀ notes: recommended to read the affiliated series, but it can stand alone as well ! reblogs & feedback are always vry much appreciated ♡

series masterlist ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･𓇼

Mermaids and their vanity and their affinity for pretty things…

Where Alhaitham lacks in idle conversations, he makes up for in his acute observation; taking note in particular of the way you glance at your reflection—not only in the mirrors of a merchant’s passing display, but at every turn, and every corner. In the stained glass windows of the Akademiya, in the bronze vessels decorating Lambad’s second floor…even now, on your excursion through the Grand Bazaar, he catches the quick flit of your head as you peer at yourself in the fountain beneath Zubayr Theater. 

Not that he’d ever fault a star for its beauty, when even the sweltering Sumeru sun is roped into your orbit—bending to your will as it dazzles behind you, like a halo in your backdrop. Perhaps the world is, but a shell…and a pearl such as yourself—beautiful and rare—ought to shine on a more veracious display. A familiar smirk plays on his lips, painting his handsome face in a devious shade of sly.

It’s clear from just your peripherals that he must be devising something terrible… Yet there’s a dance to your step when you stop him in his path; your hands clasped coyly behind your back, as you dip into his vicinity with your feigned innocence. 

“And just what are you smiling for?” you lilt, shifting your weight forward onto your tiptoes. He leans over to honor what he can only surmise to be a wordless request, but you pull away before his lips ever have the chance to meet yours. You gleam in that coquettish smile of yours—one that sits so perfectly atop your playful flirtations. “Thinking about me?” 

Alhaitham clears his throat, crossing his arms with a raised brow, despite the remaining wisp still tugging at the corner of his lip. “Am I not allowed to smile?”

By now, he can accurately read your tells and predict your actions: pursed lips and shifting eyes…all in a poor attempt to hide your grin as you quip back with something smart, or flirtatious, or on certain days, shameless—any of which might send a lesser man into a fluster. Not that he fares particularly better when it comes to you… 

So he cuts you off while he’s still ahead, his strong arm easily pulling you back into his sphere, and with a tilt of his head, gestures at the fountain, letting curiosity guide you as it casts your reflection onto the waters’ surface once again.

“Just thinking about how pretty you are...” 

And pretty you are indeed when he sits you between his legs, your bare back arching away from his chest as he curls his fingers in your cunt, hitting exactly where he knows you’d keen. His free hand kneads at the meat of your inner thigh, parting your legs wider in the process, your pussy lips following suit, blooming with the sticky sound of your wetness. 

Alhaitham huffs, impressed, as he glances into the mirror standing steadfast before you both. Large and unwavering, it’s resolute in its honorable pursuit to uncover the truth—the one with your cunt propped open and your head thrown into the curvature of his neck. The one you’re clearly not yet privy to, if your eyes are squeezed shut in the midst of all your pleasure. It’s a shame, really. For although he’s never had the ambition to conquer the unknown verities, if such beauty were the splendor of all the world’s truths, then he’d gladly partake down this endless road—as a scholar or as a madman. After all, who better to perfect his limited human perspective, than the fairest one of all? 

Tilting his head, he kisses his way up the column of your neck, feeling you curl into him as he paints intermittent bruises on your supple skin, stopping only when he reaches beneath your ear so that his teeth may tug lightly on its lobe. 

“I know how you love to admire your own reflection…” His voice gravels in your ear, the rich baritone sending a shiver whose reach extends all the way down to your core. “So don’t you want to see how pretty you look?” 

“No. That’s—” Whining, you continue to shake your head at the very prospect, ignoring the clear disconnect as you tighten and clench around the fingers still holed up inside of you. “‘s embarrassing…”

He hums from deep in his chest; thoughtfully amused at how such words could leave your mouth, when your cunt gushes as unabashedly as if she were attempting to lure his fingers further with a squelching song of her own. But there’s nothing to tempt, when there’s no iron will to break, for your bodies move like the moon and the tide: ebbing and flowing, ever connected, fates intertwined. Where his thumb spreads to draw harsh circles, your breath shallows in response, crying out at the sudden aggressive waves of pleasure that surge at your clit. Your nails dig into the sheets, hips lifting and squirming to no avail, as he continues to barrage you from the inside out. 

“Haitham…” you breathe, and he knows you’re close from how you moan through sealed lips, brows furrowed and teeth clenched, until the disappointing realization that he’s pulled out. Your doe eyes flutter open, perplexed and brimming with spoiled petulance at his amused brow and little smirk, whilst at the same time, your lips part with all the intention of asking your lover ‘whyyyy?’, if only for the fact that he’s simply…faster. 

Slick-coated fingers grasp onto your chin, slowly tilting your head down—away from that safe corner by his neck—so that you’d come meet him in the mirror, with all your vanity in tow. He holds your gaze, never turning away, not even as his head dips again so that his lips are level when he whispers low and sultry into your ear.

“If you look away, I’ll stop.” 

…And so you watch as Alhaitham turns his attention back between your legs, spreading open your folds until they’re well smeared with your free-flowing slick. And you watch as two lithe fingers penetrate past your slit, steadily pumping slow, smooth strokes, before splintering apart to stretch you open in preparation for the third prodding at your entrance, eager to join the fray.

“That’s it,” he coos, though his low voice does absolutely nothing to soothe how you squirm against him at the…discomfort? The fervor? Perhaps even the discomfort of such fervor, as it’s become nigh difficult to tell, when his free hand has migrated to fondle with one of your breasts, roughly kneading the mound to double your sensations. “Look at you…” 

Yet what is there to look at but the lascivious combination of your shame and desire? Both wrestle for a place in your reflection, battling to outweigh the other upon your visage…but it’s hardly a fair fight when shame has never been your forte—especially not when you squeeze around him so tightly, almost as if in resistance to how he’s scissoring you open.

It’s almost mesmerizing how your body reacts so eagerly: how your mouth falls open in a gasp and then a squeal, as your gummy walls concede to stretch by way of his provocation. Or that slight hitch in your breath, chest stuttering as you inhale the familiar stretch of three digits sinking into your cunt whilst you sink ever deeper into the watery depths of such hedonistic volitions.

Still, Alhaitham so greedily grasps at every open inch of you, ravishing your body with almost everything at his disposal. His chiseled frame looming behind you as he holds you open and bare, his grip the jaws of lust incarnate; his heavy breath crowding on your skin like a heated apparition of his own dire need to fuck and please and share in the admiration of just how beautiful he thinks you are—until like fine mist, it disperses across your mind, and the shame melts off your bones, replaced with only the desire for more, for him, for more of him.

“Haitham…” you mewl again, brows furrowing in an earnest attempt to keep your eyes open in spite of the rush, because god forbid he stop… 

But it’s tortuous, the way Alhaitham pumps his fingers in and out—slowly, steadily—so that you’d see in your reflection, just how wet you are, hear every squish that sounds as he repeatedly buries himself three knuckles deep. Your slick coats his skin with a layer of gloss at every re-emergence, wordlessly conveying that it isn’t nearly enough to satisfy the burning ache between your legs.

“Please more… ‘m so close…” Pleading, you do what you can to muster your sweetest voice, your most honeyed cadence, in the hopes that you’d persuade him to your cause, rolling your hips to embody your words, furthering both his reach and your intent. For all the time you’ve spent with your lover in the nation of wisdom, it’s certainly helped to remember that only praxes can truly validate such words of honesty, and you truly are honest in your intent to cum.

“As you wish,” he hums, and his breath wraps around the shell of your ear in a warm embrace (though it’s hardly even an ember compared to the heat quickly ebbing in your belly.) The want amplifies by tenfold as he digs the heel of his palm against your clit, forcing another wave of euphoria to course through your form, as he angles his fingers in pursuit of where you feel him most. 

Every twist, every curl, beckons at sweet release, as the tips of his fingers drag past each velvet inch of your walls at an ungodly pace, drawing out your orgasm with such magnetic fortitude that even your own lucidity seems to fade in the midst of such mental upheaval. It goes, and it goes, and it’s gone—as if the plug had just been pulled from your very being—and like a doll, your eyes fall shut to the joy of diving back into such revelry.

A sharp slap to your clit jolts you back to reality with a staggered gasp, your thighs nearly snapping shut at the sudden impact, while rootless static fills the emptiness in your stolen pleasure. Your perpetrator, however, only spares you a half-lidded glance whilst he continues to brandish the finishing touches of another hickey along your neck.  

“Keep looking,” he issues, one part a command, the other, a warning. His grip loosens from your thigh, allowing your legs to fall just the slightest bit slack, before his voice softens and he pries open the lips of your drenched cunt, strumming through your folds so unbearably lazily, as you situate your gaze back into the mirror. “I want you to see everything I do to you…”

“Like how pretty you are when I touch you…” He dips a finger between your pussy lips, unfolding the rippling petals on his way up your slit, carefully paving the way for his place beneath the hood of your clit. “Here,” he drawls, rubbing at the nub so deliberately, that the sudden titillation evokes your instinct to shrink away with a broken, pitched cry; for wherever you squirm, Alhaitham follows, and backed against his chest, there’s nowhere left to turn, but forward at your reflection in the glass. 

It's obscene. You’re obscene. But despite the disconnect with your head, your body still begs for more, and you think it’s almost pathetic how far you’ve sunk into his magnetism (though you vaguely recall it was once the other way around) that you hardly recognize the figure before you, so…distorted by the draw of lust. Your chest heaving with every breath that circulates through full, parted lips, your face bleary from carrying the heavy weight of pleasure on your lashes. Yet, the longer you watch, the more you glisten between your legs, clearly seduced by that perfect view of your own body on display. 

Perhaps there is something provocative about the way your folds are spread, barred open by his fingers while he taps away at your clit. Perhaps there is some coquetry in the way your empty hole drools, some enchantment in how your juices shine…everything to flaunt how you need to cum—how you need him and anything he’s willing to give. 

Your eyes begin to glaze, your focus drifting as you continue to stare at how your lover’s reflection so teases the hardened nub, every touch drumming your nerves with pleasure like the beguiling lull of gentle waves. At least your lungs seem to appreciate the monotonous pattern; your heaving chest adjusts to match his rhythm, the faint stimulus now an almost comfortable familiarity—one too easily shattered by the whims of another, as Alhaitham presses firmly into your swollen clit.

Renewed arousal swells in your belly, burning through whatever you thought had previously dissipated, and closing the window on any remnant of self-restraint, as you soon start to squirm with electrified impatience. Once steady breaths devolve into ragged gasps; your spine curves and your hips jolt, all from exposure to Alhaitham’s prolonged stimulation, writhing this way and that, until you inevitably grind against his cock, surprising him with his own throbbing rush of sensation. 

“Do you see how,” Alhaitham grunts, gritting his teeth as he holds down a groan, “erotic you are…” Even half-dazed, you can feel just how hard his erection stands against the small of your back.

You exhale, waveringly so, as you steady yourself before releasing your grasp on the sheets, clawing weakly at his toned bicep in an effort to garner his attention. Between your misty eyes and sweat-mottled skin, disheveled hair and trembling thighs…there’s a delicate show of tenacity as your reflection holds his gaze, daring to dance with the devil you’ve chosen to submit to. “So show me what I look like when you fuck me.”

“Gladly,” he chuckles, and there’s a wicked glint that shines from beyond the turquoise, accompanied by a dim clang and a quiet rustle, as he frees his cock from its fabric confines. 

A low growl rumbles from deep in his throat as his hands run a path along the concave of your waist, before scooping you up by the underside of your thighs, and shifting you further in his lap—spread open on wide display, behind the glaring pink of his leaking tip. 

Alhaitham drags his cock along your slit, gathering slick from your fluttering anticipation, as he tempers the urge to plunge into you right then and there. He swallows the thought, giving way for the honeyed lilt of your name to flow from his lips instead. You turn, looking up at him with that darling half-lidded gaze, and he breathes in the sweet image of your pretty face. Please allow him to have one good look at you—the real you, in the flesh—before he fucks you into oblivion. 

He presses a chaste kiss to your forehead, murmuring something you don’t quite catch. “‘Ayouni,” he hums, aligning his cock at your entrance. (My love, my eyes—as precious as the gift of sight.) “Nour ‘ayouni…” His tip dips past your entrance, wallowing in the tight fit, before finally pushing into your quivering insides—a resolute promise to fill both your desires, and your cunt as deep as you’d take him. (Light of my eyes, anything for you.)

Large hands secure themselves onto your hips, easily crowding you in until your knees are folded before your tits and your back is pressed flush against his chest. Every bead of sweat stitches your bodies together, skin on damp skin, though only you are locked on full, shameless display; your body and limbs tethered to invisible strings in his hands—his little mermaid, his little doll—to maneuver and fold as he pleases.

A pitched sob breaks the thickness in the air, followed by a few hushed whimpers and stifled moans, as you watch yourself take him, inch by overwhelming inch. It’s never truly occurred to you how big he really is—at least not until now, when you’re confronted before your very eyes with just how much your little hole must work to accommodate his size. That initial stretch when he first pushes past your folds, and how it grows wider little by little as he forges on… (it’s no wonder you always feel so delectably full.) Or how you can clearly see the protruding veins disappear as he glides deeper (is that how he’s always able to touch upon every crook and corner?)

The sight alone has you pulsing: your greedy cunt quite literally drooling at the prospect of swallowing him down to the base, churning out more slick to ease his descent, and melting any discomfort into delight. As his bonafide lover, it’s one thing to be fucked beyond belief, but to see yourself completely surrendered to your lecherous desires, and entirely pliable at his behest…? What a terrifying way to solicit your pleasure.

Still, you’ve no choice but to sputter out a moan as your walls constrict around his shaft, drawing out a grunt from Alhaitham with how titillating it feels when you cling to him like this. His rasp reverberates on the shell of your ear, travelling down your spine like lust-tainted fire to pass the message down between your thighs. And although dew threatens to blur your vision, from what you can see in the mirror, it’s clear that he’s yet to bottom out. Even worse, is that you can feel the emptiness—your insides so cravenly wanting what is amiss—because it’s just so inherently wrong that you aren’t full enough, that he isn’t deep enough.

An urgent hand flies to tangle your fingers in his hair, as you turn to pull him into a wanton kiss, your lips just as greedy as your hips that grind on his cock for more. “Want you,” you murmur between tongue and teeth, exchanging breaths as desperation and uncertainty clash in your throat, and crack like lightning in your voice. “All of you, all the way…please…?”

“Aren’t you, ngh,” he pauses, failing to swallow down his grunt, as disbelief rolls in with another tide of arousal that pulses in his cock. His attempt to taunt, ruined by his inability to resist any longer. “Aren’t you shameless today?”  

“Don’t care.” Though slurred, the words still tumble out of your mouth with a sense of urgency, your fingers curling against him, grasping onto the hope that he’d finally fill you. “Just n-need you.” In such a deliriated state, it’s difficult to tell whether you had imagined the way his breath rings through the hollows of your bones—the resounding echoes of a small, yet exasperated laugh reverberating through the very core of your being…but it was real, and his presence was there, and how could he ever say no when you’re asking for his cock so nicely? Per your request, of course he’ll drop you lower onto his shaft.

Alhaitham groans, powerless against the way you whine, tightening around him as he advances further and further, until he bottoms out with a guttural ‘fuck.’ He’s never had you in such a position, but with you atop his lap and gravity as his prerogative, it’s suffice to say he’s reached... 

“Too..d-deep…” you babble, eyes rolling back as your words disperse into the same nothingness that’s engulfed your thoughts. 

A soft tut tut clicks from his tongue, followed by a light roll from his hips…and suddenly your string of whimpers break into a shrill gasp as his eager tip kisses the entrance to your womb. Alhaitham is, after all, a man of his word, though this time, he lets his actions speak in his stead. (Where did I tell you to look, habibti?)

There’s little time to process any of his wordless cues—especially not when his stuttered breath is hot against your neck, the warmth just beginning to melt away the jarring discomfort of being penetrated so deeply, before equally warm fingers squish your cheeks to turn your attention back to the mirror in question. “Like what you see?” he whispers, and your dew-laden eyes flutter open to the sight of you and him: thighs spread, legs tangled, your hips on his, as you sit impaled on the entirety of his length. 

All you can muster is a whimper and a nod, because what else can you do when you’re so overcome by the feeling of Alhaitham…everywhere? On your tongue where you can still taste his kiss, in your veins where his love circulates to your heart, and most obvious of all, in your cunt where his leaking precum swirls with your slick.

“Show me where you feel me,” he rasps, gingerly plucking your hand away from that wrinkled patch of sheets you so desperately latch on to. His touch is sticky on the back of your hand—no doubt the remnants of your juices still clinging stubbornly to his fingers, like a souvenir collected from his last venture between your legs—but he serves well as a guide: directing you along your abdomen, letting just the very tips of your fingers, ghost across your sensitive skin. 

“This…” Starting at the apex of your thighs, he helps you along the path up your lower waist. “... is how far I am inside you…” 

You can’t help but wonder if it were even possible to be buried so deep within someone, but curiosity gets the better of you, and your hand begins to move on its own, absentmindedly glossing over where you feel his tip so deep, it almost seems…taboo. Not that you really care for the ins and outs of such moral standards, especially when it feels so right to be stuffed so full. Or perhaps your eyes are simply playing tricks on you—dirty work done by the fog that’s settled in your head with the sole intent of altering your cognition. 

“Don’t believe me?” Hand in hand, he presses gently down onto your belly, where even the slightest bit of pressure is enough to make you jolt. But from the way he struggles to catch his breath, to the violent throbs bursting all along his length, Alhaitham too, suffers from the repercussions of his boldfaced provocation—too human to act as if he’d been left unscathed.

For even as you cry in little songs of pleasure, your walls almost seem to be spinning a trance of its own: clenching and unclenching, the pulsating rhythm urging him to move… Which he obliges to of course—adjusting ever so slightly, until he’s perfectly angled and prodding at the divot that absolutely ruins whatever’s left of you, as you’re made to feel everything all at once. Every long, languid stroke comes as an electric current, reinvigorating dead limbs as the muscles come twitching back to life, conducting more and more arousal with every rough drag of his cock. Euphoria surges and sparks fly, overloading the wires in your head, with each thrust into the very spot that unravels you so. 

“Keep singing for me,” he murmurs, content with how the shape of his name breaks into pieces of fragmented  whimpers and moans, echoing across the room. It’s clear his words are largely lost on you—displaced by the fresh barrage of wet kisses down your neck, to be absorbed through your skin and used as fuel for your core. 

“My beautiful mermaid,” Alhaitham keeps his eyes locked on your reflection; eager, despite his own fraying disposition, to catch all your reactions. “My beautiful mermaid…who always…” 

His grip tightens around the meat of your thighs, while a dominant hand glides up to the back of your knee—effectively lifting your leg higher and spreading you open wider—before a quick, rough motion lands him somewhere inexplicably deep.“…takes me so well.” 

You keen, nails digging into whatever they can, anything that might still tether you to this reality when every sensation has been ignited into something far too big for you to handle. Your back curves in response, arching away from his chest, but the shift in position only sits you deeper on his cock, and a shrill sob cracks from your throat, as your stomach coils and your teary eyes flutter open to the direct image of your reflection. In the mirror’s shallow abyss, your looming orgasm stares back as its own depraved monster—inhabiting your body and tainting your pretty face with lecherous intent, as it urges you to let go. 

“Come on, let go…” Or perhaps the fiend whispering in your ear is Alhaitham himself. “I promise you’re just as ravishing when you cum,” he croons, speeding up his pace to climb the heights of his determination. “Maybe even more so…”

The sheer intensity of his rough fucking is overwhelming. The extensive depth, the meticulous precision, the impressive girth—they’re all things you’ve come to expect in the bedroom with your less-than-feeble lover. But to exploit your vanity, whilst simultaneously feeding you with praise…to hold you open with his own hands, to make you a spectator of your own base instincts…

It’s a dangerous combination. It’s too much. It has your entire body trembling as the pressure peaks—your muscles wound taut, and your pussy clenching tight. 

“‘m c-cumming…” you sob, though your quivering voice soon falls flat from the sheer enormity of the orgasm that races to smother you in its fervor, replacing the blood in your veins with liquid bliss, and allowing that to circulate through every inch of your being, until it becomes the only thing you can even bear to breathe.

The name ‘Haitham’ tangles with your cries, and he loves it—addicted even, to the sound of you, the sight of you—finds it near impossible to tear his eyes away from that perfect view of your pretty little cunt, obediently stretched and fully stuffed with every inch of his length. Warmth blooms and engulfs him at his mushroom tip, and Alhaitham bucks by reflex, desperate to chase your waning orgasm with his.

He’s close too; you can feel it. The familiar (yet delusional) way in which each throb seems to fill you out even more, the relentless increase in speed and force, unapologetically running his veined cock along your sensitive walls, over and over until he drags you back to the edge. His own breath skips and stutters in his lungs, but still he punctuates each word with power and precision, jutting in as deep as you’d allow him to follow. “Just. Like. That.” 

And so, when it breaks, it shatters—like skipping stones across the water, rippling and disruptive as they bound on and on in a path of hedonistic destruction—until your vision blanks, and your body convulses, and your mouth falls open in a silent moan. Your release comes in a violent torrent, uncontrollably battering through your body as you drench him in your juices, leaving the remaining splice of your consciousness trembling, spent, and completely surrendered to the pleasure. 

Somewhere in the white noise, you hear the echo of your name, said with a pleased lilt, as if he were…impressed? Proud? Maybe even both, for Alhaitham finds himself mesmerized by the undeniable, tangible evidence, that he’s pleasured you this far beyond belief. It’s surreal—the only word in any of the languages he’s studied (including yours)—that could even begin to describe such eroticism. For a moment, he loses track of his movements, lets his hips fall to an irregular rhythm as he fully takes to the reflection in the mirror: colorless, liquid pleasure still dripping from your hole, glistening as it runs down his shaft with every shallow draw…only to be pushed back with a squish and a squelch from the wetness that now finds a rival in the soaked sheets. 

Without hesitation, he pummels back to reality, thinking only with his cock, as he pounds into you with a newfound ferocity that seems almost inhumane…but then again, a mermaid like you isn’t quite human after all.

“Can you, ngh, hold out…a little longer…?” His voice is low and strained, yet still retaining a softness reminiscent of morning mist above the waters, grazing wisps atop your skin. (Just a little longer, I promise.)

“‘kay…” The word spills from your mouth, melted and slurred into a weak mewl, too dazed to process much, other than the fact that you’d do anything he asked of you, even at your own expense. Just a little longer…(but ignore the tears that prick of overstimulation.) For him, for Alhaitham, anything for Alhaitham (in spite of how your body screams ‘too much,’ as you cream around his cock again, this time faster than all the others had come.)

Any sense of clarity found in your mantra, only serves to prove that perhaps your head truly has been scrambled to nonsense, because the only thing you could even fathom to think of, is the desperate need for him to finish inside you. For him to paint you with a white fire so hot, it’d cleanse away even the smallest remnants of your tortuous embers. The final few thrusts come sloppily—too busy drowning in your deluge to care—while the very last stroke nuzzles deep against your womb, as he fills you full of his cum. 

Two sets of labored breathing resonate around the room, and in the afterglow, Alhaitham sets your frail legs down, knees buckling and knocking into one another, as your feet are finally brought to rest on something solid. (Though mentally, you don’t feel any closer to the ground.) Still, the drastic change in position shuffles his cock against your sensitive walls, breathing life to another soft groan that escapes into a silent harmony. 

“Sorry,” he whispers, peppering you with soft kisses wherever his lips can reach. The unyielding grip, once pressed so firmly into your thighs, melts away—replaced by gentler hands that work to sooth the tenderness in your flesh. “I’m going to pull out now, okay?” He readies himself to withdraw from your warmth, but you blink your bleary eyes, and the distant stars in your pupils illuminate just a fraction more. 

Alhaitham studies the ‘you’ in the mirror; watches the steady rise and fall of your chest as your breathing evens out, and your red-rimmed gaze drifts down the length of your body. One of your hands absentmindedly wanders, delicately brushing over the dark imprints left upon the skin of your thighs, color-matched to the hickeys blooming along your neck and shoulders—each one a bruise forged from his passion. And nothing could ever attest more to the throes of passion than the very reflection of your bodies, melded seamlessly together: his cock in your cunt, leaking with shared essence.

‘How…beautiful…’ 

You shake your head in dreamy opposition. “W’nna stay like this…for…a bit longer…” Your words trail into a content sigh as you rest your head back against that comfortable nook at the juncture of his neck, angling just enough to still catch your reflections in the mirror.

notes2: mirrors in his kit -> mirror in the bedroom pipeline, am i right (๑>؂•́๑) … i wasn't able to complete this in time for mermay this year, so consider this a little something for kinktober, i suppose ^^;; but i hope you enjoyed it nonetheless ! as always, thank you so much for reading, and reblogs + feedback are very much appreciated ♡

© silkjade — do not steal, plagiarize, translate or repost any content onto any other platform

[mochinomnoms]

*reads the octa kinks post*

Omg. Mating season Azul got me in his horny tentacle grip.

Like omg. Just.. just... *squeals* the things I would let that man do to me.

Just imagine mating season comes and Azul is just so damn needy. He's taking you wherever and whenever he can. On his desk, over his desk, against his door, in the shower, in the tub. You find out how good his strength actually is when he's got you bent like a pretzel, fingers digging into your hips as he's got you hoisted up and working you over. If only he had this much stamina in his PE class. But you're just a way more fascinating topic I suppose.

Praise him, praise him and tell him how amazing he's making you feel. How much you love when he works his hands on you. He'll have you like putty as he prepared you. He loves it, he also loves it when you're so blissed out that all you can do is moan for him. Call his name. Do it.

Let's not forget he still actually has to attend classes so this mad lad is horny gripping through them. Maybe he gets so wound up that he sneaks you off to a random classroom for a quickie. Has you bent over a desk or you give him a blow job to help. Don't worry. The man knows a good cleanup spell(you can't tell me he doesn't) he's not so cruel to send you off reeking of sex. Although.... Maybe he enjoys sending you off with his scent lingering on your skin. Sends you off with a pretty scarf wrapped around your neck that has his cologne. What a lovely little reminder to the others that you're taken, and maybe it helps hide any little incriminating marks(if you're into that)

That's not even touching on his mer form yet. He has you in a shallow pool, or maybe he's given you a nice long air breathing potion because now you're in a small cove nestled somewhere safe from prying eyes. Maybe it's nice and dark and the only thing you can see is the pale blue of Azul's eyes or maybe you watch as the bioluminescent patterns dance along his skin(I love me bioluminescent octatrio) Don't worry, you've got eight strong limbs working you over, each one truly seems to have a mind of their own as they work you over. This man, he's leaning back and just seems to be enjoying the show until you're begging him to fuck you properly. Who is he to deny your wish, he's such a benevolent mate, now isn't he?

orz Azul just gimme one chance pls I BEG!

Azul's never had good stamina, in the sea or out, and it shows when you're intimate with him. It's why he focuses in on making you come via his hands and mouth so much before actually getting to the main event. Poor Azulito only has one orgasm in him before he tires out, but it's a very yummy one when he's with you, and by the time he's actually fucking you, your bones are all jelly, and you're blissed out.

It's a very pleasant surprise when his mating season first comes around after you two get together. When he was single, Azul would get a bit feverish, hot and bothered, and more irritable than normal. Usually, he'd just manage with some potions and rest, but once he's gotten a mate, it's like a switch flipped in his brain.

Instead of being mildly inconvenienced, his entire body is heated and sensitive to touch, yours specifically. It's as if he's taken a high dosage of an aphrodisiac and the only cure is your gummy insides. If you two never had quickies before, you sure as hell do now. He's using you over and over on any surface in his room, office, even in a nearby empty classroom if the need to breed (ha) hits. It's enough of an issue that you both get a stern talking to by the teachers, who are recommending that you two take a rest of his mating season off as to not distract the other studies. They'll make sure to have someone bring your work over, just please go back to Azul's dorm, the beastmen and fae students are starting to complain about you two and the scent of sex.

Once he's got you in the water after that, you're getting bred over and over again and again until he's positive his seed is taken (even if you can't get pregnant). So, uh, hope you have good stamina at least, or else you're gonna have a tough time.

[imaginedanvrs]

i've been thinking about lovers to enemies with natasha so... enjoy??

warnings: smoking, extreme mental health issues, violence, murder, reader is not okay, implied major character death

“You’re smoking again.” Her voice always had a way of piercing through the background, unable to ever be overshadowed by the endless hustle of the city. You barely spare her a glance as you take another drag, but you know that she’s reluctant to take her observing eyes off of you and onto the collection of bodies across the alley. You’re too far past the point of predictability for her to be sure she won’t join them. 

  She’s more skilled than you, but you always had an edge that was left unchecked and has now become something she never believed it could. She underestimated you and you can’t blame her. Your old self would have been horrified to witness the ceremonious snap of your sanity. 

  “Backups on the way,” she informs as she approaches. She keeps her distance, but she wants to see you. The orange glow of your cigarette does nothing to illuminate your features. It’s difficult when the city casts enough shadows to protect you, however it can’t prevent the life that infests it from interfering. 

  A taxi speeds past the alleyway too suddenly to shine a light on most. Natasha only sees it because you were momentarily looking her way, though it's enough. Enough for her to catch your grey eye, drained of its colour and life since that night you were slashed across the face. You had told her once that it allowed you to see the world more distinctly than ever. That was the first time you turned the blade on your lover, adamant that you were saving her. 

  “Let me help you,” she offers, cursing herself for being too struck on your face that she hadn’t used the second of light to identify your weapon of the night. 

  “You don’t know how,” you tell her. Your voice has changed over the years. Maybe it’s the smoke you inflate your lungs with. Or maybe you really are a different person. “Only I know how to help,” you correct her, crushing the cigarette beneath your boot and taking the slim knife from your belt. 

  “You’re not well, y/n.” This angers you, greatly. 

  You lunge at her, blade gleaming with the blood of those that now serve as obstacles that lie in the way of doing what you have to. It’s for her own good. “I want to save you,” you tell her as she blocks your repeated strikes but never offers her own. You’ve improved since you used to train together. The ruthlessness you possess makes her anxious that she won’t be able to handle you before the agents arrive. They’ll handle you in the way she can’t bear to. Unfortunately, you don’t make it easy for her. 

 You dance in a sinister ballet for some time before you take the final leap of the grande show and slam Natasha to the floor. You beam as she struggles beneath you because you’re just so happy to finally be able to do this for her. You can give her the ultimate display of love - setting her soul free. 

  “Don’t do this,” she pleads with you but your mind has been set for years. 

  “I love you.” You're pressing the blade into her neck, only restricted by all of the strength Natasha is using to suppress your own. “I’ll see you wherever we end up next. It will be so much nicer,” she recognises this voice. It’s the one that used to come over you when you would hold each other during those unforgiving winters. It’s a voice that promises protection, but the person it embodies doesn’t understand that concept anymore. 

  You never get to deliver your final act of service to the love of your life. You're interrupted by a blazing heat erupting in your chest and a kind of weakness you haven’t felt in a long time. Instead of throwing you off of her, she coaxes you onto your back and offers words of comfort to your confused features. 

  You don’t know what’s happening, but you think there’s a chance you’re about to experience what you wanted to provide the redhead your heart had always yearned for. Perhaps it made sense that it would cease for her too.

[phuljari]

social media au! part 2

summary : khushi is a model and influencer; arnav just seems to stumble upon her profile one day— not so much by accident. (or what if khushi fell in love at first sight?)

warnings : just some hindi/hinglish, cussing in both languages. deliberate typos. online stalker!shyam. flirting with the boss

a/n : i am...trying something new (by using the word prompts) #IPK 13th Anniversary Fiesta @arshifiesta

hellohibyebye

liked by aakash_r, amanmathur, gulabo_devyani, anjaliiiii.r, mahendrarudrapratapsinghraizada, hari_prakash and 137 others

hellohibyebye haaye! ekdum vaijanthimaala laagat hai hum😍🥰

⚫kaala tika najar na lage e ke khatir⚫

view comments

aakash_r Maa group pe daalne ko bola tha, Instagram pe nahi 🤦

gulabo_devyani Manorama! Ye Hear. hum aapko diye naahi the... Toh kaisan aap pehen liye?

anjaliiiii.r Mamiji 👌😍

mahendrarudrapratapsinghraizada Thoda vakht nikal ke humare saath bhi ek-do photu khichwaye leti!

⤷hellohibyebye aap photo me bilkul handsome.... nahi laagat hai 😒

hari_prakash B//J...K>';edxnnnnddd

iMessage "Raizada Group"

Aakash Maa aapne instagram pe post kar diya 🤦

Manorama toh ka hui gawa? hainn

Mahendra Bohot sundar laagat hai tumhari amma 😊

Akash liked a message

Manorama liked a message

Devyani Humra. Haar. Dena mat bhulna. Onmanorama.

Anjali Arre Aakash, karne do yaar, umar hai inki 😌

HP Ji Naniji, hum abhi wapas rakhwa dete hain

HP hhhhhhhh?/?????

Aakash HP yaar tune firse phone bandh kiye bina pocket me rakh diya... buttdial nahi, yaha toh butt-typo hote hain😶

Anjali 😂😂🤣🤣🤣

Arnav seen

Anjali Chotte yahan bolna mana nahi hai!

Arnav: Di, I'm in a meeting right now. Ttyl

Anjali: Arre, chotte 🤦‍♀️

Manorama added NK to Raizada Group

NK: Hello bhaiyyon aur bhabhiyon

Anjali: Bhabhiyon nahi NK bhai, beheno!

NK: Haan wahi Di! You understand me so well!!

Aakash: 😂😂

Arnav left Raizada Group

NK: Oh no Nannav! Tum kyu chale gaye

Aakash: You know that he can't see the messages now right?

NK: Oh, Whoops! Wait

NK added Arnav to Raizada Group

NK: Nannav mere bhai!! How are you??

Arnav: Isn't it like 3 AM in Sydney?

NK: Nannav, naughty naughty, tumne time check kiya mere liye! So cutee! I'm at your home doofus 😂

Arnav: gtg

Arnav left Raizada Group

iMessage

Anjali: Ye har baat pe chotte group kyu leave kar dete ho?

Arnav: Di! WTF ye NK kya kar raha hai Shantivan me?

Anjali:😶‍🌫️

iMessage

Aman: Sir, we have officially signed Ms. Khushi Kumari Gupta!

Arnav: Good

Arnav: Kumari?

Aman: That's her middle name boss

Arnav: Oh, okay

iMessage

Aakash: Bhai, you signed THE KHUSHI GUPTA??

Arnav: Yes

Arnav: And she's not that popular c'mon

Aakash: Bhai do you even use instagram? 😭

Arnav: Of Course!

Arnav: Btw I have more followers than her 😒 So much for "influencer"

Aakash: That's her personal profile Bhai! You have to see @/thekhushigupta

seen

thekhushigupta

liked by divalavanya, payaliyaa, guptagarima, aakash_r, shyamjha, versace, arnavsinghraizada, saritaraman and 396,981 others

thekhushigupta @/versace thank you for sponsoring my cannes debut

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saritaraman You dancing on hawa hawaii at cannes was the only thing left for me to see😭

⤷thekhushigupta all thanks to you babe <3

payaliyaa My babie sisterrrr 😍

⤷thekhushigupta jijiiiiii 😊

guptagarima Ae Khushi isko chalu kaise karte hai

versace It was our honour! 😍

aakash_r Amazing performance👌

shyamjha khushiji aapka koi boyfriend hai kya? 😭

divalavanya Bestie 💖

⤷thekhushigupta right back at ya! 💖

user1 i love the dressss

user2 just one chance khushi pls pls

user3 it was so cheap idk why ppl idolize u

⤷user1 get tf outta here

shyamjha hosh rubaa😍

nandiii khushi jiiiiii 💘

⤷thekhushigupta nanhe jiiiiii

nandiii

tagged: @/emirates @/anjaliiiii.r @/aakash_r

liked by aakash_r, anjaliiiii.r, gulabo_devyani, mahendrarudrapratapsinghraizada, hari_prakash, hellohibyebye, thekhushigupta and 806 others

nandiii So excited to meet you guys!😭

view comments

anjaliiiii.r Pooja ki thaal tayyar hai NK Bhai

⤷gulabo_devyani Aapan. Ka. hi intezaar hai Bitwa.

mahendrarudrapratapsinghraizada Return flight book karke nikle ho ki naahi?

⤷nandiii Now why would I do that Mausa Ji? 😊

thekhushigupta nanhe ji! iss baar aap mile bina nahi jaa sakte 😌

⤷nandiii Aapse hi toh milne aa rahe hai Khushi ji! It was fun to hangout with you while shooting in Portugal last year! 😊

hellohibyebye humre khaatir oo gucci peck kiye ki naahi?

⤷nandiii Maasi ji aapke liye toh chanel, gucci, versace sab haazir!

hari_prakash Ccooffee lenge?

Notifications (arnavsinghraizada)

thekhushigupta followed you

titaliya_k followed you

payaliyaa followed you

Notifications (thekhushigupta)

arnavsinghraizada followed you back

shyamjha unread 1475 messages

shyamjha commented on your post: hosh rubaa 😍

shyamjha commented on your post: khushiji aapka koi boyfriend hai kya? 😭

usershyam hume aap bohot pasand hai khushiji

iMessage

Khushi: he followed me back omgomgomg

Lavanya: ???

Khushi: ajgar

Khushi: arnav*

Lavanya: 😂😂

Lavanya: You didn't stop talking about him last night oh god

Khushi: i know ur friends were so pissed😭

Lavanya: Nooo, why would you thibk that

Lavanya: And look at you crushing so hard on ASR!

Khushi: you've met?

Lavanya: Briefly

Khushi: 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

Khushi: I'm gonna slide into his dms wish me luck

Lavanya: Khushi wtf

Lavanya: Khushi come back you son of a bitch

Lavanya: Istg Khushi pls don't make a fool of yourself in front of your new boss😭

Lavanya: Khushiii??????

seen

(1) message from thekhushigupta

thekhushigupta: hey

arnavsinghraizada: Hi?

thekhushigupta: we met the other day

arnavsinghraizada: Yeah, you bumped into me, how can I forget?

thekhushigupta: omg i'm really sorry for that😩

thekhushigupta: can i take you out for an apologetic dinner?

thekhushigupta: tonight?

arnavsinghraizada: Are you...

thekhushigupta: asking you out? yes

arnavsinghraizada liked a message

TBC

<previous> | <next>

[adoremelikeasunflower19]

happened in a heart-ring for @romcom1dficfest

The Love Alarm AU where Harry is a student working at his mum's bakery and Louis is the unattainable embodiment of Harry's every desire. Their paths cross.

To distract himself from the cacophony of Love Alarm ’s notification washing over the room, Harry dedicates his attention to staring at the colourful doodles dancing on the sides of pages of his notebook. Undeniably, witnessing such situations enables developing the ability to sympathise with those lacking social adorations who are haunted by the awareness their being is drowned out by the existence of someone else, glistening, bold and vivid, among the crowd, while they remain unnoticed. Recognising whose arrival must have caused such a reaction does not require complex deduction skills, and simply the knowledge of the presence of this person has a blush bite into Harry’s cheeks. Despite his efforts to make peace and embrace his position, the noise carries an unpleasant reminder of Harry’s blandness and significance. He bites the inside of his cheek as his muscles turn firm because of the tension, and his body naively attempts to blend with the surroundings by remaining still.

Among the assumptions and opinions that could be questioned, denied, or modified to one’s liking, the magnetic aura accompanying Louis Tomlinson’s presence is irrefutable and irresistible. Perhaps, it has its source in his smile, thin-lipped and welcoming, possessing the ability to ignite fire in Harry’s chest and have him purposely long for more of this sweet and addicting warmth. There are days when stars seem to gleam in Louis’ blue eyes, and Harry is willing to pay any price for an opportunity to inspect this view for a couple of seconds, seeking and decoding constellations until he stumbles upon one capable of gilding him somewhere, preferably home. Louis is of a smaller build; his waist was crafted to be held, wider hips accompany a slim and muscular body, and despite being an inch or two shorter than Harry the difference is unnoticeable. Surprisingly, Harry cannot shake the nagging convictions of his smallness whenever he is around Louis, he is often overtaken with the urge to fold and hunch, to ensure he doesn't take too much space, especially if Louis could make better use of it through his wit, charisma, and bright personality. On rare and special occasions, Harry gives in to his inner temptations and indulges in discreetly observing Louis during PE classes, appreciating his body, muscles, coordination and swiftness on the field, the hypnotising glow of sweat marking his cheeks, the redness of his skin, and the earth-shattering grin blossoming upon every goal and morphing into the expression of undisturbed pride and euphoria when they happen to win. Their victory simultaneously turns into Harry’s as it provides a chance, for Louis may take off his shirt, inspiring Harry’s imagination to roam into dangerous places.

[serickswrites]

Video Killed the Radio Star

Warnings: captivity, gag, restraints, implied future torture, video recording, cruel whumper

"Smile for the camera, Whumpee," Whumper said with a chuckle as they aimed the camera at Whumpee.

Whumpee stood in the filthy basement, their hands bound behind their back, gagged with a disgusting rag. They glared at Whumper. It was the best they could do until they came up with a better plan.

"Dance, Whumpee. Dance, and I'll lower the price of your return. Remember, Caretaker can see you."

Whumpee's heart stuttered. Caretaker. Caretaker was going to see them like this. Caretaker was likely frantically trying to find a way to raise enough money to save them from the painful death Whumper had promised.

They had to do this for Caretaker.

Whumpee swayed side to side, trying to look anywhere but the camera. Anywhere but Whumper.

"How about some ballet? You know it's been ages since I had a chance to go to the ballet, Whumpee. Twirl around like a ballerina!"

With a dark glare, Whumpee slowly spun around. They could not believe they were doing this. But they had to. For Caretaker. "No! No! NO!" Whumper roared. "You need to be like a real ballerina! On your toes, move those arms!"

Whumpee stopped. They could dance on their toes, sure. But how on earth were they going to raise their arms with them bound so tightly behind their back?

"Dance, Whumpee. Dance for me and Caretaker. Do this and I'll knock off a hundred thousand dollars. Fail, and I'll make sure Caretaker sees every cut I make on your body. Live."

They couldn't let Caretaker see this. Couldn't let Caretaker witness their torture. They had to do as Whumper ordered. Whumpee hunched over as they spun on their toes, waving their wrists above their back. This was the only way they could raise their arms.

Whumper chuckled. "Keep going! You're a beautiful ballerina. In a demented kind of way."

Whumpee's cheeks burned. They would do this for Caretaker. To help Caretaker. So that Caretaker didn't have to watch them be tortured.

Whumper flipped the camera on themself. "What do you think, Caretaker? Ballerina enough? Too bad it wasn't for me." Whumpee's mouth went dry. "I'm going to enjoy cutting into that beautiful skin of yours, Whumpee."

Tags: @mousepaw @jumpywhumpywriter @knightinbatteredarmor @hufflepuffwritingstuff2 @anightmarishwhump

@steh-lar-uh-nuhs @celestialsoyeon @st0rmm @ay5ksal @pedro-pedro-pedro-pedro-pe

[ceoofhelaegon]

I don't get the whole "Aegon hates Helaena" thing. It's so clear that it's the opposite. I don't know if it's "love" like the love you feel for a spouse but people seem to forget that she's, above all, his younger sister. His eccentric sensitive baby sister. I imagine that after Rhaenyra came forward with the betrothal proposal she lost no time in impressing it on her oldest son that shall Viserys act so "enthusiastic" about a proposal another time she maybe won't get the chance to refuse again. And Aegon stepped forward because no matter how shitty of a person he is he loves his family first and foremost.

And there's also another layer of some kind of possessiveness when it comes to her. Like when Jace asked her to dance (something to get back at him, not because he wanted Helaena to have fun) and he grips the beetle he gifted her. She's his wife, sister and the mother of his children after all. They share so much it's king of obvious they'd feel attached to one another.

And all the greens and blacks' r@pe fantasies for Helaena to justify hating on a character? Makes me wonder if they even fucking care about her in the first place enough to understand that anything besides home would've been disastruous to her growing up. Giving birth to TWINS at 13 was enough for both of them to stop having children at least for four years. Why does everyone want to make it even worse in the name of ridding a character of anything that humanizes him?

And "Alicent doesn't love Helaena or her children" PLEASE. IT'S LIKE THE ONLY THING SHE EVER LOVED. She gave up a potential military alliance in the name of keeping her daughter safe. I'm so tired.

Well, people hate Aegon for one reason or another and it ranges from shipping to just pure distaste.

And it’s just SO insane the way they behave about it…they are now policing FANFICS, and he’s the spawn of the devil. (but notice that they were in fact looking for Aegon fanfics…if you hate a character you wouldn’t be looking for his fics 🤷🏼‍♀️)

But as I say, I can’t take ANY Aegon hate seriously when his character A.I. has the population of a small country…

It’s always “fuck Aegon” sure, I can see how much all of you want to fuck him alright. So every time I see Aegon hate, I just laugh that those are the people going to his character bot, so I just ignore.

It’s okay, he can be your dirty little secret, Antis…he won’t tell on you.

[twig-tea]

Canadian LGBTQ+ rights; a whirlwind summary

Back in August of 2023 @wen-kexing-apologist wrote an absolutely stellar piece here, and I didn't want to co-opt it (especially because it was already written with an American gaze and I don't want to pile on/distract from the fact that we're talking about Thai BL) so I decided to make this a separate post. And then it lingered in the sad pile of my drafts. But, I'm gonna post it anyway, and take this as an excuse to talk about Canadian history of LGBTQ+ rights apropos of absolutely nothing except the most recent move of the provinces (specifically Saskatchewan) to use the notwithstanding clause to force through legislation that the courts have said goes against our charter of rights and freedoms--specifically legislation that says a teacher cannot respect a child's pronouns without permission of the parent. This is being taken to court (latest as of this writing is that in Feb 2024 the group fighting the law was granted the right to be heard by the court in spite of the notwithstanding clause being invoked, so there is still a chance of it getting revoked via the courts).

WKA talks about what the conversation was like in the US around queer rights in the 20th century; highly recommend reading the linked post first. In Canada the conversation was a little different though with very similar themes; we had the shift to a focus on "privacy" as the driver of our rights long before the HIV/AIDS epidemic, in the 1960s. So much of the push and pull of our laws around homosexuality and gender identity and expression have had to do with the public vs private.

Sodomy has been illegal in Canada since colonization (earliest known conviction: 1648) but laws against gross indecency, which included dancing, kissing, or touching between two men, didn't get codified in Canada until 1892 (and not extended to apply to women until 1953 (thanks)). While these laws essentially outlawed any physical public affection between men from the turn of the century, the fervor to root out and eliminate gayness from society didn't really reach its pitch until mid-century.

I need you all to know about the Fruit Machine, which was an ostensibly "scientific" detection device to identify and purge gay and lesbian civil servants from the military and public service in Canada. While the machine was built in the 1950s and used through the 1950s and 1960s, the practice of using psychology, polygraphs, and interrogation to force military and public servants to come out and take a voluntary discharge existed through to the 1990s.

Our former Prime Minister PE Trudeau made famous the line "there is no place for the state in the bedrooms of the nation" as part of his so-called decriminalization of homosexuality 1967; this is of course a joke because "buggery" and "gross indecency" stayed on the books for another 20 years, the only difference being they were only punishable if the people involved were under 21, there were 3 or more people present, or the participants were performing these acts outside of their home. You may notice that this meant the policing of public space was where and how homophobia continued to be perpetuated by the state via police.

Highlighting the importance of privacy as a framework for gay rights at this time, The Right to Privacy movement was the name for one of the forerunners of modern Canadian LGBTQ+ rights groups through the 1970s--though worth noting that this group in particular was criticized for its exclusion of WLW and our trans siblings (some of whom of course overlap). The infamous bathhouse raids of 1981 ("Operation Soap"), leading to at the time the largest arrest in Toronto's history, were one of the precipitating factors in the recognizable start of the modern LGBTQ+ rights movement. In 1986, five years after the raids and thanks to massive effort by LGBTQ+ organizing, sexual orientation was added to the protected list of attributes that it is illegal to discriminate against under the Canadian Human Rights Act (gender identity and expression was added in 2012), and in 1987 "anal intercourse" was made legal for those over 18 (the legal age of consent was made the same for everyone--16--in 2019), and "gross indecency" as a law was finally repealed. The fight for marriage equality was the next step after achieving real decriminalization, and was strongly based on the right to freedom from discrimination as protected by the Human Rights Act.

[Just going to take this moment to note that for some reason they never struck off the law criminalizing sodomy when more than two people are present; this is still an inequality on the books now and people do (rarely) still get charged with it.]

In the late 1980s and 1990s, the censorship fight was most famously held in the written sphere--if you've seen the movie Better than Chocolate, you might already be familiar what I'm talking about. From approximately 1986 through to 2000, Canada Border Services targeted shipments to queer bookstores, holding them up, sometimes destroying the content, putting those businesses at risk, and preventing queer content that passed through border control to be stocked in physical stores. It took the Supreme Court of Canada's ruling in 2000 to shut down that practice as an illegal suppression of a bookstore (Little Sisters in Vancouver, BC, shout-out!)'s right to freedom of expression.

Raids on safe spaces for sexual activity continued to be a driver for action through to the 21st century. The WLW bathhouse the Pleasure Palace (changed from "Pussy Palace" in the late 90s to be more inclusive of our sisters without that particular body part) was raided in the year 2000; 19 years after Operation Soap, and notably the first and last raid on a queer woman's bathhouse in Canadian history. What followed was a massive public coal-raking of police, including the very telling call to action: "out of the bars! Into the streets!" I don't think this was necessarily the intended implication at the time, but looking back the threat was that if we were not given our rights, we would be in everyone's faces (and conversely if we were given our rights, we'd be quiet). The legalization of marriage between any two consenting persons of legal age came five years later in 2005 (I don't mean to imply this effort was the only reason--the fight for marriage equality was active all the way through the 90s and early 2000s; it's just an interesting parallel that two of the biggest wins for equality for queer people in Canada came 5 years after a historic police raid).

One of the factors in gaining acceptance of LGBTQ+ people in Canada was the fight for marriage equality; as it focused the conversation on sameness rather than difference. The queer activism movement here pivoting from messaging around bathhouses and being left alone to marriage equality was an intentional, strategic attempt to be accepted as the same rather than being honoured for our differences. And that fight coming after the HIV/AIDS epidemic and bathhouse raids is no accident as it framed queer people directly in opposition to the stigma of promiscuity that surrounded assumptions about gay people which fed into the lack of support for medical intervention, research, and treatment for HIV/AIDS (here in Canada too, our history is just as gross on that front, people just don't talk about it as much. But Canada followed the US government's example, and so people were left without medical resources for at least eight years in Canada (since the first cases were identified here in 1982) and THREE YEARS after they had been approved by the US--AZT wasn't available in Canada until 1990. Three years in which people died unnecessarily. We similarly approved PrEP four years after the FDA, in 2016. Today, despite "universal health care", if you want access to PrEP, it will depend on the province you're in as to whether you can get it at all for free or whether you need to pay--in my province, it takes 2 months to get free PrEP).

Today, just over 50% of the people with HIV/AIDS in Canada are men who have sex with men; it's estimated 80% of people infected with HIV know their status, of those 75% are being treated, and of those 89% are effectively unable to transmit the virus. In that context, the ongoing fight re: HIV/AIDS in Canada today is around decriminalization, specifically decriminalization of drugs (since ~20% of HIV infections are from IV drug use--one of the many reasons I support harm reduction strategies), and the decriminalization of non-disclosure (since Canada is one of the few places where you can be charged for not sharing your HIV status with a sexual partner). Until very recently, we were also fighting to be able to give blood--it was only in 2022 that men who have sex with men were allowed to donate blood in Canada, which meant every visit to a blood donation clinic involved questions about the gender of your sexual partner(s). And, as mentioned at the top, one of the rights we are fighting to retain right now, is the right to have our gender expression respected without forced outing to a parent or guardian; Once again, the fight in Canada has become centered around the right to privacy.

Slightly tangential to the topic at hand, but I would be remiss in talking about moments in recent history when the law did not prosecute us, but it failed to protect us. In the 2010s, a serial killer was targeting men who he thought he could get away with making disappear; and he was right. The police ignored calls from the community to treat the case as a serial killer for years. Bruce McArthur killed 8 men who had gone missing from Toronto's Gay Village between 2010 and 2017, several who were vulnerable because they were distant from their families (because they were gay and closeted), homeless, and/or in immigration limbo (waiting for status), so it took longer for them to be reported missing. During this time, through to just weeks before the arrest, the Toronto Police insisted in public statements that there was no serial killer.

Black and Indigenous queer people have regularly died as a result of the police being called while they were in crisis. An unnamed trans woman (who was midgendered by the SIU after her death); Regis Korchinksy-Paquet, both in 2020. In 2022, Dani Cooper, queer activist who advocated against police-run wellness checks, was shot and killed by police during a wellness check called for them.

As a positive step, in 2016, Black Lives Matter Toronto staged a protest as part of the annual Pride Parade, making a list of demands, but the one that got the most coverage was the demand to ban police at Pride. This was taken up by the Pride Toronto committee, and since 2017 police have been banned from having an official float or presence at the parade. This has been taken up by several Canadian cities including Vancouver and Hamilton and inspired action in other cities globally.

With that context, in which queer people are rightfully distrustful of police, it is alarming that police-reported hate crimes against LGBTQ+ people (one of the only ways we have of tracking hate crime consistently) had a record-breaking increase in 2023.

In 2017, Prime Minister Justin Trudeau (the son of PM Trudeau quoted above) gave a public apology to LGBTQ+ Canadians. Here's just a brief excerpt:

"To the kids who are listening at home and who fear rejection because of their sexual orientation or their gender identity and expression; And to those who are nervous and scared, but also excited at what their future might hold; We are all worthy of love, and deserving of respect. And whether you discover your truth at 6 or 16 or 60, who you are is valid. To members of the LGBTQ2 communities, young and old, here in Canada and around the world: You are loved. And we support you."

The important part about this apology was twofold; one, it explicitly named many of the specific instances of oppression I mentioned above, and two, it listed the things the government was doing to make reparations. This included the repeal of the law that equalized the age of consent (which went through two years later, as mentioned above), the pardoning of people who had a criminal record due to unjust laws based on LGBTQ+ discrimination, settlement of a class action lawsuit for victims of The Purge, and a commitment to work towards better resources for mental health and housing for LGBTQ+ people, as well as a committment to continue working to remove the barriers for gay men to donate blood (which went through in 2022). One of the other important achievements was the change to allow an "X" option under gender on Canadian Passports (so the three available options are M/F/X) in 2019 [some provincial gender opt-out options have existed since 2017].

The current government is by no stretch perfect, but it has been good to see some of these moments of our history acknowledged and corrected for. As the global pressure towards fascism continues, it's critical that we remember these changes are the result of hard work, not inevitable "progress", that these fights are ongoing and require our energy, and that change, using a variety of tactics, is possible.

Quick hit facts if you prefer a list to a narrative:

In Canada, it was illegal for men to hold hands with men or women to hold hands with women in public until the 1960s;

The government tried to expunge us from public service in the 60s and 70s;

it was illegal for men to have threesomes until the 1990s;

bathhouse raids were made possible due to legislative inequalities through the 2000s;

Canada took three years longer than the US to approve treatments for HIV/AIDS, four years longer to approve PrEP, and still today access can be complicated/expensive;

it was possible to be of legal age to have sex but not anal sex until 2019;

Gay men were barred from donating blood until 2022;

Canada remains one of the few countries in the world where you can be prosecuted for not disclosing your HIV status (though does not apply if you retain a minimal viral load);

In 2023 some provincial governments tried to make kids choose between gender expression and their privacy (and potentially safety) from their parents; as of March 2024 that fight is still actively being fought.

The take-aways I hope people get from this post:

This history is more recent than we pretend, and is ongoing

Framing gay rights as right to privacy vs right to being not prosecuted for being in public is nuanced and intertwined

Transphobes need to fuck off

Some references/further reading/watching:

Brief history of LGBTQ+ laws in Canada at the Canadian Encyclopedia

The Fruit Machine documentary made by TVO

Article on HIV/AIDS in Canada policy written by one of the policymakers

Timeline of HIV/AIDS Developments (only goes to 2010 so does not include PreP, which was approved in Canada in 2016, four years after its availability in the US)

Article on The Pleasure Palace raid by one of the organizers

Article on the Bathhouse Raids 40 years after Operation Soap

Article on Bruce McArthur's crimes and the review of how police handled the case by former judge Gloria Epstein

Regis Korchinksy-Paquet and the unnamed trans woman dead after interactions with police

Dani Cooper's death

Article about the Supreme Court case brought by Little Sisters bookshop

HIV Non-Disclosure Law Fact Sheet

Article about the end of the blood ban for men who have sex with men

Black Lives Matter Toronto on their 2016 action at Toronto Pride

Prime Minister Justin Trudeau's apology

Gender "X" Options on Passports

Stream Better Than Chocolate (you may need to look up where it's available in your region)

Little Sisters Book & Art Emporium

Glad Day Bookshop (Makes a claim for being the oldest queer bookshop in the world; one of the few queer public spaces being maintained/actively protected as more and more of our spaces are eroded, and also just a personal fave so I'm taking the excuse to shout it out too)

[frenchbreadandeggs]

Willow

CW!: attempted r*pe, violence, fem! reader

°This took me a while and I am surprised this finished first than the Yasuo fic I was writing. I haven't proofread this so you have been warned!

Kayn had yet to wander around the woods again.

Or any place that has woods really.

He had successfully beaten Rhaast unintentionally but with a cost of loneliness. Talking to the scythe or per se the Darkin was all he had after Zed died and killing Jhin.

This happens whenever he slanders groups or goblins that he finds in his way. Stealing their valuable belongings and selling them to merchants. It's rare for him to take any interest in them, he just wants power—to kill. He would then go to the nearest forest, walk around or take a stop and listen to the whispering sounds of the trees.

He thinks it's much better than silence and denying the fact that he missed Rhaast's Darkin ramblings.

Today was different or so he thought.

He saw a camp with small bandits and thought of a chance to swiftly kill them and steal goods. The unlucky part was that they called reinforcements, almost catching Kayn and leaving wounds around his body as he escaped.

Almost

He thought, it was fine at least. It is better to go home with heavy wounds than to be dead.

Kayn limped to a village, a possible scenario coming in his head: as he limps towards the village, someone would spot him, help him clean and heal his wounds, and with him fully healed he can have the chance to steal—if they resisted he would not give them any chance to live.

Instead of lively markets and kids running around—he found an abandoned village.

"Today is not my lucky day, I see."

Despite the calmness, he wanted to throw a fit and scream. He can't die because of blood loss from a big wound given by a stupid hunk taller than him. He shouldn't be!

Kayn rested his back on the brick wall of an abandoned house and sat. He couldn’t see or hear any noise but the wind passed by his ear as it sang.

The sun was going down, a sunset. Colors of orange-red and the faint yellow slowly disperse as a deep blue color rises into the sky with the glittering stars. Other than listening to the silent melancholy of the forest, Kayn thinks the sight of the night sky is beautiful. He can make out the constellations or even make a new one.

He looked down at his resting body, dried blood and grime. Kayn grimaced when he moved his body to make himself comfortable. He should think of something that could help stop the blood, wrap a cloth around it before he could drop on the sandy floor and slowly die from blood loss.

A soft melody he heard. His ears perked like a cat hearing its prey. Kayn shakily stood up, the scythe as his support. Putting his weight on the brick walls Kayn limps again to follow the sound lingering to his ear.

The moonlight glowed on a tree—a weeping willow tree perhaps. Its leaves softly danced with the wind, the melody becoming louder. There he saw a lone girl, sitting under the tree a lute cradled with her hands.

Kayn stopped and stared at the girl in silence. Eyes would move to the birds flocking around the girl and look back at the girl. He could see her fingers strumming on the strings and her eyes closed as if she is also drowning in her music as Kayn is.

He felt tired. The heaviness on his shoulder didn’t help, his head then started to spin and his vision went blurry.

Pain shot his side, Kayn gasped for air and cupped his hands at the side to grab his scythe. His heart fell when he couldn't feel the familiar weapon. Noticing he was sitting on a bed almost smaller than him and the bandages neatly wrapped around his wounds.

"You're… awake." A soft voice emerged from the door he didn't notice. 

His eyes widened at the person standing at the door, "You… you are that person playing the lute." Kayn internally cringed at the roughness of his voice, he saw the flinch of the girl's body.

An easy target

You placed down the wooden tray beside him and poured tea on his cup and gave it to him, "Drink it, it will regain your strength—or at least help you."

Kayn reluctantly accepted the cup from you. He couldn't trust you immediately, though he is injured and the scythe is nowhere to be found so he is helpless in your hands.

At least he could try befriending you before killing or selling you.

He quickly drank the tea clean and right after Kayn asked your name.

"...I don't tell my name to people like you."

Kayn's fake smile fell, "What?"

"No—I can't tell you my name." You didn't elaborate why and left him alone in the room, leaving the tray beside Kayn.

He tried to stand up and catch up to you but the gash on his torso sent him a painful feeling. Kayn cursed under his breath, the wound had opened and blood started to seep in the pristine bandages. 

Have you ever tried to stitch his wound while he was unconscious? Or were you doing it on purpose knowing who he is.

Nothing to do, Kayn laid down on the bed and stared at the dully looking ceiling, cobwebs in each corner of the room. His eyes squinted, there were drawings on the ceiling from stick man to trees and ugly looking houses. This might have been a child’s room, he wouldn’t know at first because there was nothing in the room other than the dresser and the bed he’s using. 

What are you doing right now? Maybe you found out that he is a wandering assassin and also found his scythe—

He shot from his bed, he winced loudly enough for you to hear.

“What is wrong with you!?” You cried as you ran to the assassin curling in the bed. 

You shoved his arms away from his torso to take a look at his bandages. Horror filled your face. The bandages you wrapped around him in the morning have been soaked by his blood, you lightly touched the bloody part of his torso, red painted your whole palm.

“Ev-everything is blurry.” 

The assassin weakly stretched his hand toward you as you hurriedly took your lute.

“Don’t move.” You said as you prepared your lute. Surprisingly, he followed and slowly lay down on the bed. His eyes never left you.

You closed your eyes and started to strum your lute.

Slowly, Kayn’s eyes were closing and his breathing became calm, but you didn’t stop. The faint green glow from the assassin’s torso brightened as you quickly played the instrument. Your breathing became rigid and your heart quickly ran, you needed to at least close his wound completely, forget the anesthesia later.

When you felt the wound slowly closing you stopped playing and took a deep breath. You never healed a person for awhile, especially this critical. You were taught to heal small scratches and cuts from knives, not in this kind of situation.

You placed the lute beside the bed and opened the dresser to take the bandages. 

Slowly, you removed the soaked bandages with a swift cut after you reached out to pluck a tone out of your lute. You throw the bandage somewhere in the room, you take note to throw it in a proper place later after patching the man’s wounds.

You took your lute and the bloody bandage and left the room.

Bard! That man is dangerous!

“I couldn’t let him lay there bloodied.” 

He is a wandering assassin! Zed’s child!

“You, little bird, should stop snooping around people’s business. Also I don’t know who Zed is and I don’t want to know what he does.”

You shaked off the sparrow and walked outside the house to do the things you usually do. You swing the lute behind you and throw the dirty bandage beside the work table.

Were you injured!?

Bard there is an injured fawn! Help him!

You ignored the question and hastily followed the forest wolf to the woods.

“Ah, stepped on a bear trap.” You winced as you looked at the trap gritting on the fawn’s left leg. The fawn turned its head at you and tried to run but fell. You slowly walked towards the forest animal, careful not to startle it.

“It’s okay, I can help you.” You said with softness in your voice, scared that it would try to run and hurt itself even more. You reached your hand to pet the fawn’s body and it calmed, its head slowly laid on the grass. This was your time to use your lute again.

Thank you for treating my son, bard of healers. Said the mother. You are the only one I trust among the humans.

“There are others that are like me, you don’t see them often.” You said to the mother deer who is laying down in front of you with her children, the fawn you healed is on your lap as you continuously pet his head.

Quite unlucky then. Unlike you, they hunt us and use our heads as trophies, I am glad a person like you exists. A gem.

“Well I exist to help the injured, nothing special about the bard of healers mama doe.”

Hmpf! Nonsense, you do not place traps in the forest.

“Speaking of traps, I will remove them so you and the other families can roam freely.”

You stood up, the mother followed you and her other children. The fawn who laid on your lap ran to his mother.

What do you say to her?

Thank you bard!

“You are most welcome.” You said, putting your green cloak on and its hood over your head.

You waved the family goodbye and started to walk back to the village to get your pack for taking out traps and ropes scattered in the forest.

“I did not know you were strange.”

You froze on your tracks, the crunch of leaves slowly drew near you. It stopped when a hand grabbed your arm and forced you to turn around. Gosh you hate having those eyes stare at you like you were prey. You tried to shake his grip on you but it tightened instead.

“Let go of me.” You gritted between your teeth. How could this man recover so quickly even losing that much blood, you couldn’t imagine the possibilities that this man is immortal.

Your heart dropped when he chuckled, his wicked smile fading when he looked at you.

“Not until you explain what you did to my wound.” 

Kayn aggressively dragged you down the hill, ignoring your trips on rocks here and there. When you two reached the house Kayn’s grip on you let go as he almost threw you on the wall. You gripped on the chair beside you.

“Sit.”

It was risky if you tried to fight him and you were drained from healing two things an hour apart. So you sat, quietly as you stared at his eyes. He stared back at you while he leaned on the door frame, ready to capture you if you tried to escape.

“Obedient. You are smart not to go against me.” Kayn said as he lifted himself from the frame, slowly advancing his way towards you.

“I recommend you not to hurt me.” You spoke, clutching your back to ease the aching pain Kayn had caused. “That will cause you problems.”

Kayn scoffed, leaning down at the level of your face. Your noses an inch close to touching, “Why? A healer isn’t rare around the place, no?”

You bit your lip. Healers… were not rare— not, until slave traders raided the village and took everyone except for you. This person might not know about the abduction years ago or he is insulting you and your people.

“You don’t know what is circling in your veins.”

“My veins?” Kayn’s eyes widened as he stood away from you, his brows then furrowed. “What do you mean by that?”

“Your wound, the big one on your torso is infected. The weapon used might be spelled by venom, if you kill me no one will heal or help you.”

“Why?”

“You’re a wandering assassin.”

You quickly raise your arm and slashed Kayn’s arm with a whip. He quickly dodged but the end of your whip still hit him, earning a slash on his arm. You saw him raising his hand to his back, his face fell when he realized there was nothing hanging on his back.

“Where is it?!” Kayn screamed, his panicked cries caught you off guard. He looks like a child throwing a tantrum because he couldn’t find his toy. You would expect more anger from him, charge at you immediately when he noticed his little toy was taken away from him.

Kayn looked around the empty room, hoping he could find his scythe and kill this girl for threatening him. You rolled your temporary whip and hung it at the back of your waist, walking up to him you looked down meeting his eyes.

“Let me be your companion, then I can heal you.” As you stared at him you pointed the lone cabinet at the other side of the room. Expected, Kayn scrambled up to his feet and ran towards the cabinet and opened it.

Kayn smiled as he raised his scythe as a trophy, “Hah I have you again—” he turned around, “Oh I can not wait to have your blood on my scythe hea—”

You were not in the room. Kayn had realized, his smile becoming sickening knowing that you had run away—scared of the scythe, him. Kayn likes a swift death, a death the victim could not expect but he likes it when people try to run away from him, beg for his mercy—it was his definition of fun . With his grip on the scythe Kayn walked out of the room to chase you down.

Or so he thought.

He saw you, instead of running, was on the floor packing things in your big bag. Kayn stood there, confusion painted on his face, confused why were you not running away—crying for your dear life. You had noticed his gloomy presence behind you as you finished packing your things with a big zip of the bag.

You stood up from the dusty cement and swinged the bag to your back.

“I do not think you have anything with you, we should go.”

"You know I could kill you—"

"But you did not." You said as you whirled around to face the assassin. His messy hair, uneven breathing as he desperately gripped his scythe gave you the hint not to push his buttons. Simply, you turned against him and continued with your business.

Walking to the workshop standing at the back of your house, you gave it a swift brush on the surface and whispered i will miss you and stretched your hand to let the birds rest. Years of using the desk, you finally—maybe buy a new one if the possible journeys with the assassin give you money.

You looked at the empty desk, remembering the memories and the things you made with it.

‘I’m going to have a better one’

Stay with us!

I miss you already!

She is old enough to make her decisions, let her be.

Glancing at the birds on your arm, their bickering and attempts to talk to you made your lips twitch a smile. A yellow bird flew on your shoulder, you can hear its small chirps in order to talk to you.

“Now now,” You laughed, as a hoard of animals surrounded you. “Let’s not be mushy, it will be hard for me to leave.”

“I have not accepted you coming with me, healer.” A hushed voice hissed at you, making your eyes roll and politely made the animal get off you.

Looking at him with a hard gaze, you crossed your arms, “Then you can leave without me,” Your face softened, but your lips pressed in a thin line, “But you are going to die in a few hours or so.”

“What is it?!” Kayn desperately asked, his eyes intensely looked down at your form.

“A venom spell from black magic, only born of healers, could remove that from a human’s body.”

A white barn owl flew past Kayn, hitting his head on purpose and landed on your shoulders. You smiled as you communicated with your feathery friend, as it asked to be your animal companion in your adventures.

Kayn could only stare at you, if he is fully healed by you, later on he will kill you.

Kayn thinks of how he could kill you in a hundred ways while traveling city to city, while you on the other hand are talking to your now new companion. Animals who talk to you don't necessarily need to open their mouth and speak with barks, meows, or chirps—they would look at you and speak in your mind, you don’t know how that is possible but you are determined to figure it out while on your journey with the assassin.

Be careful around him, I can’t be that much of a help—but I will try my best to protect you.

“Do not fret about it, there is a reason I own a work desk for items I use around the forest.”

I trust you, bard. I am your animal companion after all.

The owl broke his gaze from you for a second and turned his neck to you.

He is deep in thought I suppose.

You looked at your back to see Kayn talking to himself, you couldn’t figure out what he was saying, you hoped it wouldn't be the ways on how he could kill you.

“I mean, he is the first man who came here after a few years… of the raid. So he would be a good shot, I can’t wait for another ten years for a person to find this place.” 

I agree, Ishlacan Village is a hidden place.

‘was’  You frowned at your thought of the hidden place of your village being found.

Your owl noticed the change of your expression and flapped his wings to get your attention.

Let us… call the assassin, he might lose his mind.

"You," you called, earning the assassin's attention, "Your name."

He looked at you, both of his eyes going up and down to yoir form as if you were something before replying to you.

"Kayn."

" Kayn? " you narrowed.

He glared, "Kayn."

"Alright, Kayn. I decided to be your traveling companion until I found clues about my people's disappearance, and of course, until the venom is cured and you are fully healed."

"A horrible decision."

"But it benefits us both, is it not?"

He didn't say anything to your commentary, so you think he agreed. He slightly agreed . Walking up to him, you handed a bottle to him—it was runny and clear like water, but it was sparkling.

"What is that?" Kayn eyed the bottle like a picky kid, his eyes looking at you and to the bottle.

"Medicine for the venom in you— I do brews with my magic, it is convenient when I can't use my magic." you replied, crossing your arms after Kayn reluctantly accepted your medicine.

"Does it fully heal?"

"No,"

Somehow you think you saw Kayn's ears flop like a sad wolf for a minute before you continued.

"I have them packed with me so do not worry. You drink once a day—when emergencies then you will drink extra."

What happens when the emergency comes with no medicine of yours, bard?

'Then we have no one to guard us.'

"Does this actually work?"

"Obviously,—are you doubting my magic?"

"This is brewed—"

"By my magic, I made it so we won't be stopping minute by minute to unwrap your bandage and heal you directly inside the deep forest."

"You get tired by using your magic?"

"Like all people who wield magic, it drains us like how people fight using their energy."

He looked at you before drinking the whole bottle, wiping his mouth clean with the back of his palm. You reached your hand to him, he stared at it before realizing that you needed the bottle back. 

The bottle now stashed in your bag, you whispered to your owl before he flew away.

“Where is it going?” Kayn looked up at the sky trying to look for your animal companion.

“Tyto is scouting for anything unusal.”

The walk was silent, you were actually nervous as you disabled the traps you see. Kayn could kill you here and there in the deep woods, after all that is what an assassin does, excecute you in times you don’t excpect, or in the dark—but fortunately he was just there following you, the crunch of the dead leaves against his boots audible to your ears.

It was a bad idea to have him follow you at the back, but you know Tyto is looking down at you—ready to call for assistance from the animals living in the forest.

After you disabled a trap, you heard Kayn clear his throat.

“What?” You said, not looking at him but looking for the traps you could find.

“What happened to your people?” He asked. It made you stop. You never get that question very often, not only there were no people stumbling on your abandoned village but the animals you talked to had witnessed it.

“Gone. Kidnapped by raiders.” You continued on your way.

It was silent. You sighed.

“You want a story time? Sure.”

You took a stick and used it to poke the ground.

“My ancestors were mages, but a few hundred years ago we were seperated in groups by what magic we could do. I was born with the hands of a healer, we are named Ishlacan—we often have special abilities when we reach the age of six. And I, can speak and understand animal language.” You raised your sleeve and showed your inner wrist to the assassin, a green tattoo of the caduceus to distinguish your people from others and to be a proud healer.

You lowered the sleeve to your hand where it couldn’t be seen, “ I remember it was daylight when it happened, children my age are running around with me near the fountain waving their hands to boast their newly formed magic. We would laugh and run away from their scolding mothers telling us not to play the magic blessed to us.”

Your grip on the stick tightened, “There was a scream, then before I knew it the raiders found our village. Taking children, women, and even men—the ones who go against them were knocked conscious or beaten into submission.”

Both you and Kayn immediately looked up after a familiar screech. Tyto flew to your shoulders.

A marketplace up ahead, there are swarms of people.

“What did it say?”

“A marketplace,” You placed your hood up and looked at Kayn, “Are you coming?”

“No,” Kayn replied, his brows knitted as if you said something wrong, “I prefer in the shadows.”

You handed out your hand to him. Kayn looked at it questionably.

“Give me your coins, I know you have them.”

He deadpanned at you, shoving his hands in his pockets and aggressively handed you a handful of coins—some fell on the ground but you didn’t bother to crouch down and take them.

“This will do,” You turned away from Kayn and faced your owl. “Stay here, we won’t want people to look at us.”

Will do.

You then walked towards the marketplace Tyto directed you before going back to the forest by your command. You never did look back, thinking there would be people alreadly looking at you, so you walked with the swarm of buyers in the marketplace.

There were nothing but meat and skinned animals hanging on each stall. You scruched your nose and immediately walked to another place where no stink of dead meat invaded your nose.

The crowd never died, some people still pushed you here and there though you do not mind. Around you were filled with vegetables and fruits, some sell spices and sweets in the corner. 

Now this is what you want.

You wanted a healthy dinner later, especially for Kayn—he was healing after all and needed the energy for his athletically fit body, so it is possible he needed big portions and healthy food. This was never your first time cooking for someone (who is human), your grandparents would teach you how to cook the basics—what is good and what is to avoid eating. You would get compliments as a kid, the people telling you that you indeed have the hands of a healer even without magic.

With those ego boosting words, you’re hoping you still have it to this day.

In a flash, you stood at the front of the vegetable stalls. The greens are freshly laid on the wooden crates on display for you to choose. After picking the ones that passed your “who is the best” test, you hand them to the trader with the coins Kayn has given to you.

Thanking the old man, you proceeded to the next stall which was filled with oranges. You could feel the freshness of the oranges by just a touch.

“They were freshly picked just this morning.” the merchant said, moving a crate full of oranges.

This would be good for his skin while he heals.

When you didn’t respond to the merchant, he eyed you up and down. You were… ordinary, like those people who are obsessed with hiding their faces or cloth themselves head to toe. As you reached for another orange his eyes squinted at your wrist, something green popping out from your sleeve. His eyes widened, just to be sure the shopkeeper reached his hand to yours while you were busy looking for the perfect orange to feed to Kayn.

“I will buy five of these—” 

You gasped when a body collided onto yours, hands a snake— it slithered around your waist with lips near your ears for you to hear the whisper.

“Play along,” whispered by a familiar voice. “I was looking for you and here you are standing in front of a stall that sells… oranges.”

The man was hooded like you, but you knew that voice—spiteful and hushed. Right now he sounded like he was trying hard to be enlightened by finding you standing in an orange stall. You could feel his firm hand grip your waist tightly, he wanted you to respond.

“O-Oh, I was looking for fruits for us to eat at home.” you half-truthfully said.

“Then I will pay for it, you already paid enough let me do it for you.” 

With a swift you and Kayn are already outside the marketplace with five oranges in your bag. Kayn removed his hood and stood in your way, his amber eyes angrily stares you down.

“You almost got caught. ” he said with gritted teeth.

“What do you mean by that,” you looked at yourself, there was nothing visible even your hair. “I have myself perfectly covered.”

You gasped when he took your hand, showing your tattoo peeking out of your sleeve. When you get a good look he lets go of your wrist.

“I saw the orange merchant reaching out to your wrist, he saw your tattoo.” Kayn angrily said, his eyes looking around if there is someone lurking at the both of you. He sets his gaze on you as he reaches the hood to place it on his head.

“We need to stay low, stay in the forest.”

“What? That is dangerous!” you resisted.

Staying in the forest for the night was the least you wanted. Sure you talk to animals and you live near a forest but that doesn’t ease you anyhow. Even when you can talk to animals, some you can’t persuade.

“It would be more dangerous when we go straight to a city, they can easily spot us,” he turned around. “After all there are a dozen or more of them in the city.” 

“But—”

“If you want me to be with you,” Kayn bent in front of you, his eyes directly staring into yours, almost making a hole. “You listen to me.”

‘How atrocious!’

You could only curse in your mind before stomping to follow Kayn into the woods. Tyto flew back on your shoulders, his wings flapped gently before settling down to rest on you.

What did he say?

‘We are staying in the woods for the night.’

Hm, I can rest on branches how much I would like then.

‘Please not also you’

I could not help myself, sorry in advance.

The walk to the woods was silent, only Tyto’s fluttering wings were heard whenever he flew back to you after surveying the area. Other than that there was nothing but you and Kayn’s light footsteps.

“Do you have at least a blanket to lay on?” you asked him when he found a good spot to stay in for the night.

“No,” he said. “I don’t need one.”

Your lips pressed into a thin line. How can this man be comfortable resting in this forest? You could only sigh and place your bag down and take out the things you needed for the night: a blanket, a small pot, and a knife.

Here are some sticks, bard.

Tyto laid a few sticks in front of you. Thanking the owl, you started to make a bonfire.

Kayn stared at you before walking to another direction. His scythe in hand.

"I will look for more." he said before disappearing into the shadows.

Sighing, you rested your shoulders and took the food you bought from the marketplace. Luckily you had the small wood for you to cut the ingrefirents and poured the water from your waterskin into the pot and lit the bonfire.

While waiting for the water to boil. Would you play music, bard?

"If you say so.”

With a swing from your hand, music played out in your lute. Humming in the tune your grandparents taught you when you were a child. It was a song mostly played in your village, a classic, like by old people to children, maybe it is because it was one of your people’s traditions.

“It’s late to play music,” in a swift Kayn appeared from the shadows, startling you. He noticed you immediately putting away your lute and grabbed a stick to poke it to the fire.

Putting the scrapes of wood he collected, Kayn sat down across you with his eyes staring down on the cooking pot with eagerness.

You knew he was hungry, so you took a cup and poured the soup in it with a spoon and handed it to Kayn. He thankfully accepted it with his right hand, amber eyes now bore at you.

"You have been doing this for…?"

"Almost ten years."

Kayn hummed in reply. Softly blowing the hot soup served to him. You told him more about your people while both of you were eating dinner, he would ask things like what your village’s customs were and so on. Thankfully he didn’t ask anything about you. Like you have something to say about it anyways.

“Your tattoos, are they part of your clan?” you asked, gazing over Kayn’s bare body. You never pay attention to human features even when you patched Kayn while he was unconscious. You were too busy trying to save his life.

“No, they are not—though I was a part of an Order.”

You raised your brow, “Order?”

"Order of Shadows, it was run by my old master, Zed, but later on he was killed by the Golden Demon we were trying to catch. After my master's death, I searched for the Golden Demon high and low until I found him and killed him myself."

Zed

You remembered a bird mentioning that name to you. With curiosity you asked Kayn about the order, what happened after his master died, why is he wandering instead of becoming the new master?

He looked at you for a moment, disbelief painted on his face. Are you not scared that you asked too many questions about him and his order? You should be, yet you are here sitting across him, eager to hear his story like a child.

Kayn shifted on the lumpy ground, then told you the story and even answered your questions. He was there, Kayn’s eyes not leaving Zed’s bleeding body. There were no words exchanged between them, only silence and the shifting of brushes from the escaping Golden Demon. He gave his master a proper burial, the Order in chaos, of course, knowing that their master had been killed by the Golden Demon himself after they faced each other. 

At some point in his life he wanted to be the master and surpass Zed. But all he is after right now is the Golden Demon, Jhin. Not so long he met the demon, but before he could strike him down something has taken control of him and woke up to a dead Jhin a few steps away from him, brutally stricken down by the scythe multiple times.

“Does that explain your appearance right now?” you asked.

“It… doesn’t, I shouldn’t be like this or be even the Kayn you know right now.”

You gave him a confused glance, he could only shrug at you.

“So the whole thing taking you over was supposed to be permanent?” you shifted, more eager to know about him now, “Did you bargain with the Devil?”

Kayn gave you a look, “No,” he turned away, “It’s late and we should rest for tomorrow’s energy.”

You groaned, “Tell me about it?”

“No, what I said tonight is enough. Ask another day.

Kayn grunts as he lays on the tree trunk, his scythe beside him. You looked at him before turning to your bag to shuffle at something, throwing an old sleeping bag in his way, he caught it with his hands. He raised his eyebrow and glanced at your way but you were already laid on the sleeping bag with your blanket, your back facing him.

His face softened, unfolding the sleeping bag and laid on it, not engulfing himself inside the fabric knowing that there are still dangers lurking in the woods.

☤

“Kayn,” you said, poking Kayn’s shoulders.

He slowly opened his eyes as he adjusted from the rising sun’s light. You sat besides his resting body, a vial in your hands. After he saw the vial, he rose up looking at you expectantly.

“Drink this, then remove your bandages after I’ll try to heal it faster.” you said, turning around to stir the pot after Kayn took the vial from you.

He removed the cork and drank the contents of the glass then started removing the bandage around his torso. Kayn waited for you, looking at your form, your arms moving from putting food into the bowl.

Turning around you handed him his serving and took your lute.

“Have you eaten yet?” he asked.

You only nodded, not having the energy to talk.

You hummed, slowly but steadily strum the strings of the lute. Your hands began to glow faint green so does Kayn’s bruised torso. He could only stare at you, the bowl you gave him was untouched because of how mesmerized he was while you were healing his wound.

With the last strum you sighed, plopping yourself on the ground.

“The venom should be gone by the next few hours, you might get your strength back soon,” you breathlessly said, “Tyto found a nearby city, I think we should hit up there, he said there is a library. I should not miss it.”

You looked at him, he did not notice until now how tired you are, sweating like it was a hot summer day even though it was just morning and the day’s winds are cold and breezy.

“Did you sleep last night?” he asked, putting the bowl down.

“Yes.”

“Properly?”

“Uh… somehow.”

Kayn stood from the sleeping bag, took his cloak and grabbed your bag.

“H-Hey!” you shouted, wanting to stand up but exhaust washed over you, “At least take a sip of the soup I made? It’s not good to drink a magical medicine and leave it with an empty stomach.”

He looked at you before snatching the bowl and took a big gulp, finishing it an instant.

“We should go to the city and find an inn, I don’t trust you having a ‘proper’ rest, you could not even stand up by yourself.”

Your face turned red, suddenly you feel hot, though you did not try to stand up on your feet. You are tired. Kayn sighs, walking up to you and outstretched his hand for you to reach out. He helped you to your feet and placed the cloak over your shoulders and fastened it above your chest.

“Wait here, I’ll pack up the rest.” he said, putting your bag down and taking the things from the camp and stuffed them into your bag.

Kayn stopped, “Did you eat?”

“Yes, I did.”

“Why did you look tired then?”

You sighed, “I put all of my effort removing the venom, thus I am tired. You see two big bowls there?” Kayn looked at where you were pointing at, “That’s how big I ate before I healed you. I did have a proper rest.”

“Good then,” Kayn stood, your bag on his shoulder, “Where is your owl.”

You two stared up at the sky when Tyto screeched, earning your attention. Kayn looked at you and began to walk by your side, following Tyto who is leading you to the nearest city.

The city is bustling with merchants and shops. Children screaming and running around the streets with laughter passed by you and Kayn. The assassin stuck by your side, as if he is going to lose you to the noisy crowd. Tyto was nowhere to be seen but you can feel his sharp gaze on you.

“There,” Kayn pointed, “An inn.”

He pushed through the crowd, you still by his side as the both of you walk towards the inn. With a shut of the door the noise was muffled by the wooden door and was replaced by soft clinks of glass and someone playing the drum followed by soft chatters and laughter.

“We would like to rent a room,”

“Twenty for two, sir,”

“One is enough."

Kayn placed ten coins on the shopkeeper’s counter. You gave a look at Kayn, he was not looking at you but to the shopkeeper who walked out of her counter and led the way to the room.

“Here’s your room,” she said, “Though I recommend not to be loud, especially at night, I don’t want angry customers drumming on my counter. Call me when you need anything.”

Before you could explain that she misunderstood the shopkeeper had already left and Kayn closed the door. He placed the bag on the floor and removed his cloak to reveal his bare body. You looked away before he could even catch you staring at him, walking towards the bed to sit.

“Go and rest, I’ll go outside to scout anything unusual.” Kayn said, putting his scythe behind him.

“What about you?”

“I slept and felt better than ever thanks to you,” he stopped, “You should really rest.”

After hearing an  ‘okay’ from you Kayn left the room. He walked down the stairs and opened the inn’s door and stepped outside, hearing the clamorous place again. He leaned back on the wall, observing the city street. Normal he thought and very noisy . Kayn could only shake his head, if he wanted to settle down, the city would not be his fit with all of the noise coming from people and the wagon’s noise.

“Hi mister!”

Kayn looked down to see a child, about the age of six, he had a stick in his mouth and his other hand holding something, a candy.

“You look lonely,”

He gets that commentary often, he did not mind. After all, he is destined to be lonely after Zed’s death and Rhaast’s mysterious disappearance. You being his companion will be temporary, knowing after you found your people you will leave too.

“Here,” the kid stretched out his little arm, holding out the candy to him, “To keep you happy.”

Kayn took the candy from the kid, saying thank you after. The kid waved him goodbye and left. He looked at the thing, hard and somehow translucent when it’s color red.

He put the candy in his pocket and stood there for a while, until frantic claws found its way to Kayn’s bare shoulder.

“Wha—”

He turned around to see Tyto flapping his wings aggressively, small screeches coming out from his beak. Kayn can’t figure out what the owl was saying, he doesn’t have your magic to understand and talk to animals, he could only see an owl trying to scream at him.

Tyto, forgetting that Kayn can’t understand him flew over the inn’s door, pecking it frantic like something is—

“Fuck!”

Kayn opened the door, entering the inn, Tyto following him. He hurriedly took the stairs, almost tripping on one of them. Opening the door, he found you on the bed, a buff man’s arm around your neck and a mage’s hand beside your head, visible electricity running on the mage’s hands. He looked at you, your face terrified as you gripped on the muscular arm. You mouthed no at Kayn when he reached for his scythe.

“An inn,” said someone. “Not likely to be used by an assassin I’m afraid.” They came out from the shadows—no it’s not him, looking at his light armor and an obvious mark on the shoulder pads of his armor says that he is a raid leader.

He could be the one who took all your people or maybe another person. He has white hair, a bald spot on top of his head, face covered with freckles and  wrinkles.

Too old

Kayn reached out for his scythe, only for the arm around you to tighten—threatening to break your neck. Kayn lowered his hand and the arms loosened around you, giving you time to breathe.

“You will get your dearest here with her severed head if you try to take a hold of your… weapon there.” the old man said as he eyed Kayn's scythe.

Kayn gritted his teeth, not knowing what to do when you are held hostage.

“Put your weapon down, slowly, kick it towards the guy in the cloak.” the man nudged his head to the left. Kayn had no choice but to slowly put his weapon down on the floor and aggressively kicked it to the person in the cloak.

The man chuckled at Kayn’s attitude, a biter, he thought.

“Zubair is my name,” said him, “and you are?”

“Is it necessary for you to know?”

“Yes, your information is helpful when it comes to shipping you out. Less work.”

“What do you want?”

“Not telling me your name?” Zubair scoffed, “Zap the healer to dea—”

“KAYN!” he screamed, earning Zubair’s attention, “Kayn is my name.”

Zubair smiled grimly, “Kayn, I see, what a beautiful name.”

“Are you going to hurt her?”

“If you do what I tell you, then she will be safe as a pet living in luxury.” Zubair turned around to face you, gripping your chin for you to face him, “It is a waste to kill off a rare breed of a descendant of ancient mages. A pretty face too.”

You winced when Zubair flicked your face to the side. You are scared, you don’t know what to do now that Kayn is unarmed and open. You don’t even know destruction magic, healing magic and healing magic only. Tears started to swell up but you tried to stop them, not wanting any of these men see your weakness, or even Kayn.

“Anyways, sack their heads, tie up Kayn and don’t let a single scratch leave on the healer. We are going now.”

Darkness engulfed your vision, the constant shuffling of cloth and metal was heard. No noise, not even from Kayn, everything is quiet. You let out a gasp when unfamiliar arms wrapped around the back of your knees and brought you up on someone’s shoulder.

With a few steps, you were placed on something wooden, and suddenly something—or someone was thrown besides you.

“Bastard.” you heard Kayn’s whisper.

“Kayn,” you called out to him with a shaky breath, “Where will they take us?”

“I don’t know.”

“Kayn, I’m scared.”

“I know,” he softly said, “I’m here, I won’t leave.”

Kayn shifted towards you, bumping his knee against yours as an attempt to calm you down. There was this warm feeling inside your chest, you could not figure out what it is, though that is the least of your problems and you two are facing a big one. What matters right now is Kayn at your side. You leaned your head on his shoulder and closed your eyes, hoping that sooner this will end.

You were woken up by a demanding voice booming in front of you. Kayn is forcefully dragged away from you, your face dropping on the wooden floor. You winced at the pain stinging on your cheek, before you could recover a hand grabbed your arm and dragged you down the wagon (or what you thought they used).

“Kayn?” you said in worry, not knowing where he is because of the sack still covering your vision.

“I’m here,” you heard his faint reply. To your demise he is far away from you he won’t be at your side as you are to be surrounded by unknown strangers.

“Walk.” a deep voice commanded you.

You did, following where the person is leading you. They stopped, their hands still tightly holding your arms, you heard a door opening and you were led again. You were forced down to sit on a soft chair, the sack removed from your head.

You were in a room, a bedroom to be specific. It is not big nor is it small, a normal room that can be used by one person. The color of dark red painted most of the room, even the sheets of the bed are dark red silk. Brown dresser beside the door and a vanity from the corner of the room where the bed is, and the floors are completely covered with velvet carpet.

“Am I supposed to be in jail?” you asked the large man leaning on the door frame.

He shaked his head, somehow he looked like you are not supposed to be here. Or somewhere worse.

“To women like you captured by Zubair, this IS prison.”

Your heart dropped, “What do you mean by that?”

“I don’t think he will care talking about him,” the man sighed,

“Zubair is a raid leader, he also takes the people he raided as slaves, some were sold off to rich people.”

“Am I going to be sold off?”

“No.”

Your heart lightened.

“What will happen to me?"

“Something not good.”

The door opened, revealing Zubair. He walked inside the room with women scarcely any clothing covering them followed behind him. Zubair stood in front of you but kept distance as the women surrounded you like pigeons flocking on little pieces of bread. They swarmed you, touching you with no permission. Gaze at your skin, your face complimenting how perfect they are, and even look at the whole of your body judgingly.

A clap stopped the women from touching you further, when Zubair flicked his wrists the women who surrounded you were out in a flash. It was only you and Zubair in the room, the bodyguard you talked to earlier was long gone, maybe was told off by Zubair when the women looked over you.

“What do you want?” you spoke, hard even you know you are scared of what will happen to you.

Zubair smiled, he stayed put, no intentions to go near you or touch you.

“Oh it’s nice to see an Ishlac again.”

Again

You felt anger bubbling inside you, “You were there—it was you.”

“Surprising isn’t it?”

“What did you do to them?” you kept yourself intact, even if you tried to attack this man your fate won’t end well.

Zubair only shrugged, “I don’t know exactly, they could be everywhere—slaves— dead .”

“What did my people even do to you?”

“Nothing really, it is my line of work. No grudges, nothing personal, just about work.”

“Selling people? Hurt them? Put them as slaves? What are you trying to achieve here?”

“None of your business.”

He walked to the door before he could go outside, Zubair looked back, his smirk not leaving his wrinkly face.

“Oh, to inform you Kayn will be shipped out tomorrow. Though I don’t give goodbyes to my employees.”

You sat on the stool, Ravika, a woman you met who is nice, paced from the vanity to you as she was doing your makeup. You shifted on your seat, uncomfortable in the clothes provided to you by Zubair himself. It was disgusting, there was barely any cloth covering you, only shining rocks hung around your skin.

“You’ll get used to it,” Ravika said after seeing your discomfort with the dress, “There, it’s finished I’ll lead you to the sofa room where he is.”

After she placed jewelry from top to your ankles, she led you to where Zubair was waiting. The gold and diamonds you wore tinkle every step you take, eyes are on you as Ravika assisted you to the sofa room.

“Ah, Kalos,” Zubair greeted. He sat on the biggest couch you’ve ever seen, you could even sleep there if you want to.

Ravika patted you on the shoulder, you gave her a nod and she walked away. This man for sure loves the color velvet, every furniture and things were in color of velvet and gold. But mostly velvet.

“Come, sit, here.” he pointed beside him.

No

With no choice, you obeyed, walking up to him and sat.

Please

Uncomfortable, you could only think, your attention was caught by something in front of you. It was the nightclub, neon colors filled the dim room, you tried to find Ravika only to see her serving drink for those filthy men.

“What do you want from me exactly?” you asked, so boldly.

Zubair raised an eyebrow, but answered your question nonetheless, “You are the only one left of your people, you are deemed to be a big-ticket.”

He is telling you you are worth something so much that he wants to flaunt how rich he is and how horrible of a person he is. You could only stay in silence, not wanting to have a conversation with Zubair no more. Your worries lay more on Kayn, you don’t know where he is or what they could be doing to him. You need to find a way.

As Zubair minds his own business looking over the nightclub you look around the room. Everything is decorated with expensive things, even throphy animals were hung on the wall. How cruel . You saw a jug of water placed on a glass tray with golden cups surrounding it, it was beside a metal pot. There were no guards inside or even outside the room, you know since the room has a doorway, the outside is empty.

“Say, should I pour you a drink?” you ushered, hoping that he will say yes.

He looked at you and raised an eyebrow at your action, you could only shrug at him, “Isn’t it more flashy if the last of the Ishlac is serving you?”

He smirked at your statement, “Smart, go on, I could use a drink for myself.”

You stood up from your seat, walking up to the metal pot, looking behind you making sure he was watching the nightclub. To be less suspicious you used the jar and poured wine on the cup, putting it down and reaching for the pot.

Slowly, you walked towards him, the metal in hand.

“Why are you taking a while to pou—”

Before he could fully turn around you, you smashed the pot on his head giving him a good night’s sleep. You grabbed his collar before he could fall on the floor and slowly laid him on the sofa, you placed the metal pot on the floor. Looking at his body, you turned around and ran for the doorway only to be stopped by a large figure. Your heart dropped, looking up to see the man you saw in your room earlier looking down at you.

“I—I—”

“Turn three lefts and the fifth right, you can see the dungeon where your pretty boy is.” he said, “Go, before he wakes up.”

He steped aside for you to walk out, you looked at him, shock still plastered on your face. You could only whisper a thank you and rush out of the room, not looking back.

You followed the man’s directions given to you, after entering the fifth right, dark metal gates loomed. It was open, you took a peek looking left and right if there was someone inside. You entered, trying to find the cell where Kayn is.

“Kayn?” you whispered.

“Kayn?” you said. Louder this time.

“Healer?”

You ran to the voice that seemingly called you, you never told your name to him. Grabbing on the metal bars you saw Kayn walking up to you, his face inches away from yours, the bars keeping you from him.

“I—I don’t know where the keys are.”

“No need for keys,” he still has his eyes on you, scared that you might disappear, “Take the scythe and give it to me.”

You looked at where he pointed, the scythe was laid on the brick wall, besides it was your lute. With haste, you ran to the scythe and took it. Before you could take another step towards Kayn’s cell, your hair was immediately pulled making you scream in pain, letting go of the scythe having it fall and slide on the floor, you tried to grab the hand gripping your hair.

“You dare to smash a metal pot on my head?” Zubair whispered to your ear, “You will regret that.”

You were thrown on the cold floor, knocking off your flute in the process.

He saw the lute, he smirked and took it, smashing it on the wall, green smoke emmits from the lute then it disappeared. Leaving only a dull broken lute.  You could only look at the broken lute in horror, all those wood from your village, the handicraft made by both of your grandparents. Gone.

Zubair loomed over you, his hand wrapped around your neck, choking you. You tried to gasp for air as you squeezed on Zubair’s hand. His other hand started to take a hold of your clothes, you panicked, you tried to wriggle while his hand was around your neck.

You choked a cry, Zubair smiled, “You look beautiful this way.”

Disgusting

You closed your eyes and screamed, “Kayn!”

Then it was silence, the hands prying on you were gone, you heard a thump followed by a warm liquid pooling around your feet.

“Don’t open your eyes, stay here.” said Kayn, you followed what he said, in fear of what you see in front of you after you heard a loud thud earlier.

Everything was silent, though you could hear muffled thuds through the walls of the dungeon. You still have your eyes closed, followed by heavy breathing from you, you heard footsteps. It stopped when it found itself in front of you. You felt a cloth placed on your shoulders, keeping you from the cold and giving you warmth. Arms found itself around you to help you stand on your feet, you felt the warm ooze on your sole. You decided to ingore it and followed the arms that are guiding you.

“We are safe now.” Kayn whispered into your ear, “Don’t open them yet.”

You only nodded, finally knowing that you are now safe in the assassin’s arms.

“Steady your stance,” Kayn said, “Swing it towards me.”

You swung the dagger to Kayn, he easily dodges it.

“Not fair, I don’t have your skill.”

“That is why we are doing this,” he positioned himself, you could only groan in frustration.

After the incident and knowing what happened to your people, you and Kayn ventured around taking small quests or even participating in Kayn’s work and meaning by his work means him killing bandits, stealing their things and selling them. You were willing to help him, not knowing what it is, and when you knew you promised to yourself you won’t be helping him anytime soon.

He asked you what you will do now that most of your people are gone or scattered around the world. It is almost impossible for you to find them, you just told him you will be his company from now on. He was silent, of course, since you knew in your first meeting with him he was not willing to take you as his temporary company until you found out what happened to your people. You told him it’s fine if he doesn’t want you—though he cuts you off, telling you he likes your company.

Then here you are, getting trained by the assassin Kayn.

“Okay, time out, that was tiring.”

“I’ll be cooking this time then.” Kayn said, walking to your camp, leaving you in the temporary training grounds you use.

“Well at least your cooking is getting better, so go on.” you smiled, placing your dagger down on the stump and followed Kayn.

You sat on the ground, looking up at the sky. Night will soon take over.

“Hey,” you called out.

“Yeah?” Kayn replied.

“Come look at this.” your eyes never left the turning sky, colors of orange-red disperse as the darkest blue took over with glittering stars in the sky.

You heard a soft thump beside you, Kayn sat close to you.

“Beautiful,” Kayn smiled, “Reminded me of a senario that happened a few months ago.”

“What do you mean?”

“This is the same sky, same time where I first saw you in your village, playing the lute under the willow tree.” He looked at you with such intensity in his eyes, too close to each other, you were liking it. “Such a melody caught me almost in trance, before I fell.”

His face was an inch away from yours, “Hey I—”

You kissed him on the cheek, cutting him off guard. You could only look at him and smile.

“Kayn you’re too obvious, even Tyto noticed it too.” you laughed, a screech from Tyto you both heard.

“Dang bird, did he tell you?”

You nodded, he smiled.

“Well my intentions have been exposed,” he held your hand, “Then?”

“I have nowhere to go, my people are gone, some are around the world far away from me to which it is impossible to find them. You accepted me as your companion with your adventures… and as your look out when you do your assassination work. I think this is obvious too, Kayn.” you said, giving his hand a squeeze.

“More than that actually, as my—uh—parnter?”

“Of course, aren’t we already?”

“Oh,”

You could only laugh, you felt his shoulders shake, trying to prevent himself from laughing.

“Do you love me then?”

“Depends.”

“...”

“...I do.”

You smiled, placing your head on Kayn’s shoulders as you two both lay on the soft grass while looking at the starry night. Bodies cuddled together for warmth from the cold night. You liked this, no doubt Kayn too. You hoped this would last forever, forever in his arms.

[cherrygirli]

Leon Kennedy! Drunk bitch

Warnings: noncon, r@pe, slut shamming, degrading, age gab (reader is 20 and Leon is 40) squirting, abuse, vomit (not in a sexual way) drugging, big dick Leon. 18+ MDI.

Leon was at some collage party looking for a quick fuck, a small baggy with some Rohypnol in it the. Lucky enough for him some drunk bitch was dancing with her cup unsupervised “hm easy”.

He pours a little in her cup hoping no one saw (no one did). Siting and waiting for it to kick in, after a while Leon noticed her stumping, he smirks.

“Hey you ok girly” he asks trying to sound concerned “my head hurts” she mumbles “here come with me” they start to walk to his car. He opens the back door pushing her in getting in after her “wait my friends-“ “can live 5 minutes with out you” he lifts her skirt and noticed she didn’t have any panties on “your dirty slut, basicly begging to be fucked” she tryings to push him off her failing miserably “no” she was to weak and drugged to actually try and fight him off of her “shh baby take it like a good girl” he pulls his fat cock out.

“No stop please” tears start to well up in her eyes “stop your bitching” he punches her in the face then thrusts into her without warning, “OW” he screams out in pain “if you don’t shut the fuck up i swear to god I’ll fucking kill you” he says in a sickly sweet tone rubbing her clit slightly before he starts to thrust into her “oh fuck baby your pussy’s so fucken tight~” she starts to moan in pleasure “she baby you like that shit, stupid fucking slut, practically begging to be raped”.

Leon starts to bit and suck on her neck pulling her dress down her tits falling out “no bra or panties fucking whore” her eyes roll to the back of her head her moans getting louder “shut up!” Leon wraps his hand around her throat and start to squeeze not to hard but hard enough. Her pussy clenches around his cock signalling she was going to cum “fucking cum you little cunt” Leon start to rub her clit thrusting his cock into her even faster and harder. She squeals as she gushes all over his cock squirting her cum all over him “shes a squirter” he smirks at this “stop please, sensitive” she bluers these words out her pussy aching from the constant abuse “not until I cum in this pussy I ain’t stopping” she starts to cry trying to push him off her.

He grabs her hips thrusting into her hard “fuck I’m gonna cum!” He throws his head back teeth chancing “AW FUCK” he shoots his cum inside her panting loudly, he stays there trying to catch his breath “get off me” she sobs out. Leon lifts his head and pulls his cock out wiping it clean with some tissue that where in the back “why are you so annoying” she try’s to get up and open the door behind her but Leon was quicker then her “I swear to go bitch you leave when I say you leave” he slaps her in the face then he start beating the shit out of her, pulling her hair, punching her in the gut. “Get the fuck out of my car” he pushes her out of his car and drives off.

“Holy shit are you ok!?” Some random party girl runs up to her disheveled body blood and forming busies all over her “n-no” she throws up “it’s ok hunny come” she helps her up “someone call the cops!” She yells out, the last thing on her mind was reporting him all she cared about was seeing him again. She knows that’s kinda weird, wanting to see the guy who had just raped and abused her. But she did care. She wanted him inside her again.

[orgasming-caterpillar]

Dancing On Your Heartstrings

Chapter 19 (prev chapters here)

Raghav pov

Raghav had tossed and turned and not gotten a blink of sleep in the last 3 hours. It was midnight, the night before the competition, and his thoughts had chosen the worst possible time to turn sour. 

The competition is in less than 24 hours, echoed relentlessly in his mind. He couldn't stop stressing about it. Even worse was when he wasn't stressing about the competition. Because that would mean he would be thinking about Ranveer, which was horrible and utterly revolting. 

He tried to not think about the future, and was yanked into the past by an unwelcome memory. He remembered the first day he entered the studio two weeks ago, wearing a bright neon jacket and holding a Sting in one hand, half an hour later than their scheduled time. He remembered seeing Ranveer and the beat his heart skipped at the sight. He had seen Ranveer before, sure, but only on stage with the alta staining his palms and the soles of his feet, in intricately draped garments and accessories; never in a plain flannel shirt and plaid bottoms. He looked so extraordinarily human that Raghav almost thought he had a chance. 

From the moment their eyes met, Ranveer has stripped apart a piece of Raghav's heart with each passing day, until he lay vulnerable and bare to his torments. Such was the torment he was feeling right now, at midnight in his own bed, trapped inside his own rib cage. 

He turned again and stretched to pick up his phone from the nightstand. 00:23 read the widget on his homescreen. Hesitantly, he dialled Madhuri's number.

"Hi?" She picked up on the third ring.

"Kya kar rahi hai?" 

"Chhat pe naach rahi hu."

Raghav snickered quietly. "Kis bechare ko traumatise karne nikli hai ab?"

"Arey nahi re. Manu ke sath movie dekh rahi thi. Call kyu kiya?" 

"Neend nahi aa rahi. Socha tujhse puch lu kal kya karne wale ho tum log."

"Arey arey. Seedha video hi send kar deti hu na. Bata kar kya samajh aane wala hai tujhe?" He heard someone snickering in the background. Probably her girlfriend. "Seriously kya hua? Kal ke liye nervousness toh ho nahi sakti. Tu aisa nahi hai."

He contemplated whether he should tell her or not, then thought what the hell. She already knows how much of a pathetic loser he is. He could vent his overthought thoughts to her and she wouldn't bat an eye. "Well aaj Ranveer thoda weird behave kar raha tha." 

"Again." She groaned. There was some shuffling on her end of the call and then she said, "I thought we were done with him?"

"Yeah, well, it's going to take some time. But seriously, mera toh mujhe pata hai kyu closed off tha, but vo kyu itna ajeeb tha aaj?”

"Maybe because of the fact that you embarrassed yourself by acting like a jealous girlfriend the day before?" She added dryly. 

"Or maybe," He said, letting out his worst fear, "maybe he realised he doesn't want to do anything with me now that he knows I'm gay." 

"Okay first, you don't know for sure he knows you're gay — and that's such a gray fucking area, you should sort that out and know for sure before driving yourself crazy— and second, even if he knows, do you really think he's that kind of a person? From what you told me about him, he doesn't sound that kind of a person."

No he isn't, but what other explanation could there be for his weird behaviour? He wanted to call and ask him what was wrong, but he couldn't. It felt like he wasn't allowed to call him anymore after today, and it made him feel so helpless. 

Madhuri continued when he didn't reply, "You know I love you Raghav, and I hate seeing you getting hurt. You said it yourself- he's straight. So unless he gives you blaring red signs that screams he's into you, remember he's just another guy you met not even two weeks ago." After a brief pause, she said in a gentle voice, "You know he only cares about the competition, Raghu. You'll only hurt yourself if you think otherwise"

"That's not true," he finally croaked out of his tight throat. 

"You should sleep. It'll affect your performance if you don't." For the first time in almost 2 two decades of their friendship, he detected a note of pity in his best friend's voice, and it made him feel a mix of frustration and self loathing. He wanted to forget everything about that, hell, he wanted to forget everything that happened since the last two weeks. So he heeded his best friend's advice and went to sleep, desperate for the oblivion it provides. 

• • •

Raghav didn't know why, but he was picturing Ranveer to be ready in classical dance attire as he picked him up from his house. He was not⁠― something that in turn relieved and annoyed Raghav. Why was he still yearning for another brief flash of tan skin, now that he knew he had no right to? 

Instead, Ranveer was wearing a white cotton shirt and a pair of cargo pants that had be have been sitting in his wardrobe for months, judging how tight it had gotten around his thighs―

Raghav cleared his throat, making Ranveer glance up at him as he made his way to the car. He said nothing and took his seat in the front. Raghav tried not to look at him. Because everytime he did, he could imagine his gaze. Sometimes it was on him, dark pools swirling with a million emotions, none of them good and all of them rendering Raghav useless. Sometimes it was on someone else; the girl at the cafe, a pretty girl walking by, a classical dancer performing upstage. Those hurt even more, for they all held a look Raghav could never get from him. It was easy to ignore whatever he was feeling; especially with the road to focus on.

But that didn't cease the heat rushing to his cheeks when his hand brushed against Ranveer's thigh instead of the gear shift.

He wasn't focusing nearly as well as he thought, because a pedestrian almost crashed into the car. Raghav slammed the brakes.

Ranveer's eyes widened and he gripped the door's handle. It took Raghav a few seconds to understand that he hadn't almost killed an innocent soul, it was the person who walked into the car's path.

The person walked up to the window on the drivers' side. "Ayush?" Ranveer whispered. Raghav wondered if it was to him, because it was certainly too low for Ayush to hear. He banged on the car window before Raghav got a chance to reply.

Slurs were flying out of his mouth before the window rolled down completely. Words Raghav was not degenerate enough to repeat, and frankly, much too stressed to deal with. He didn't care if Ayush wanted to waste his own time by calling Ranveer his boyfriend. He almost started the car before Ranveer put a hand on his arm.

Raghav froze.

"Ye Ayush hi hai na? Jo tujhse lada tha?"

His blood was roaring in his ears, heart pounding relentlessly. All the heat in his body centred on the mere inches of skin where Ranveer's palm met his arm. Goosebumps rose on said skin. Raghav nodded.

"Kya karega ab?" He heard Ayush sneer at Ranveer. Raghav had forgotten he was here. "Badla lega iske liye?" 

Time be damned, Raghav wanted to actually slam his car into this fuckface. Ranveer got out of the car. His expression was unreadable as he shut the door. 

"Before you do it," Ayush continued. "Let me tell you: he's a fucking fagg-" He saw Ranveer walking to the other side, barely registered his surroundings until a sharp crack sounded. 

Ayush howled, cupping his nose as if he was about to sneeze. It took Raghav a moment to realise that Ranveer had punched him. Ranveer had punched Ayush.

"Saale madarch-" Ayush started, but Ranveer grabbed him by his collar and shoved him onto the footpath. It was graceless, a messy deal of blood and anger, and it was so so unlike Ranveer that it made Raghav question everything he knew about him. Most of all, it was exhilarating; seeing Ranveer handling the boy who had made his life hell, as if they were anything to each other and their problems were each other's problems, it made Raghav's heart run rampant and hair prickle at the nape of his neck.

Ayush scurried away, all-bark-no-bite threats falling from his tongue. Raghav thought for once that Ranveer would follow, but he was rooted in his place. His expression was barely controlled fury, a facade of stability over a wild beast. He watched Ayush turn the corner and run away, and then did what Raghav least expected him to― just like everything else he had done recently.

He punched the wall.

Raghav flinched, a concerned gasp involuntarily leaving his mouth. Ranveer's eyes met his and he seemed almost surprised to find him there. His features relaxed, anger draining out of him. Then, he smiled.

Ranveer fucking Kashyap smiled.

"What the fuck was that!?" 

"I had wanted to do that for so long," Ranveer answered. "Ever since I heard he hurt you."

Raghav should've laughed. Raghav should've smiled back. He shouldn't have remembered Madhuri's words from last night. "You know he only cares about the competition, Raghu. You'll only hurt yourself if you think otherwise."

Of course he wanted to hit Ayush. Because Ayush hurt Raghav and hurting Raghav sabotaged his performance. He was angry for his ruined performance, not Raghav.

He turned his eyes back to the road. The car roared to life. "Competition ke liye late ho jayenge," he said. 

Ranveer stared at him, smile fading. After what felt like an eternity, he tore his burning gaze away and walked back to his side of the car. 

Better off like this, Raghav thought. Better off not smiling at all than wearing it like a weapon. Though he wasn't very sure which knife cut deeper: seeing Ranveer smile or being the reason for him not smiling. 

Good thing he wouldn't have to deal with it anymore after tonight. 

[renjunslvr]

hii i love ur writing 🫶🏼🫶🏼could u maybe write something about 10th cravity member and them peing pervs? thank you!!

thank you! of course you can! i hope you like this! i am gonna make this more of pervy thoughts they have about you!

Warnings: oral/facefucking (male and female receiving), breeding/creampie, somnophilia, bdsm (tying up), overstimulation, public sex, etc.

Serim:

Serim is constantly thinking of facefucking you, especially when you eat ice cream. Seeing the white cream on your face makes him want to take you right then and there,

Allen:

Allen loves the thought of tying you up, and using you however he wants. When they did a dance break where your hands were tied with lace, his mind went crazy.

Jungmo:

Jungmo always thinks about taking you anywhere he wants, especially in an alleyway. The idea of getting caught excites him even more.

Woobin:

Woobin reserves his thoughts for when you are asleep. The thought of playing with you while you are asleep gets him going.

Wonjin:

Wonjin loves the idea of using you for hours, overstimulating not just you but him as well. The both of you are practically in a puddle of both yours and his cum, in his thoughts.

Minhee:

Minhee gets so pussy drunk on the thought of eating you out. He swears to himself that if he gets the chance he would never let you go.

Hyeongjun:

Hyeongjun loves the idea of getting to breed you. He just wants to give you a little baby, but alas he can only think about it.

Taeyoung:

Taeyoung like Minhee loves the idea of eating you out, but he also wants to receive head at the same exact time. He wants to eat his pie, while getting pleasure as well.

Seongmin:

Seongmin is obsessed with the idea of creampies. He doesn't want to breed you, but he does want you to be filled with his cum.

[ownedbythescribe]

Diluc R. | Scorching Fears

ıllı Synopsis: "You can always feel scared to take the next step, but don’t let that hinder you from moving forward." Pyrophobia was not the easiest thing to overcome, but with an aid by your side, there might be a chance to utilize the vision gifted to you. And may be something more?

ıllı Genre: Romance, Fluff

ıllı Notes: None, Female Reader

ıllı A/N: This is a bit out of character I think. But, it’s also a bit cute! Ahhh! Diluc is gorgeous, but please let me have Tighnari when I lose my 50-50!

Pyro is an element often characterized by its destructive nature. It burns its path to victory, leaving ashes on its trail. It is a symbol of power, courage, and ferocity. Bards claim it is a sign of leadership and patriotism, while others contest for love and passion. However, pyro is not all about strength and power. It also possesses a gentle warmth that heals wounds, dispels fear, and mends the broken. It softly dances across the skin, eliciting a smile from its intended receiver.

Wielding a pyro vision sounded like a fairytale come true, as it was deemed a gift from the gods. An acknowledgment for the better lack of term. It would have been the same case for you if it was not for the fact that you feared the flames. It stemmed from the incident years ago when you were trapped in the storage room after saving a friend from flammable chemicals that he wished to play with. The heat that scorched your skin and the suffocating blast of the wind terrified your whole being. Even now, your body would tremble at the sight of fire.

'Five years had passed, and yet I still can't use my vision. Will... will I ever be able to get over my phobia?' You begrudgingly thought, holding tightly to the glass orb in your hand. The pyro element flickered in line with your distress. As much as you wished to use it during your commissions as an adventurer, you knew you would only freeze in panic.

“Hmm? If it isn’t, (Y/N). What are you doing here, doll?” A familiar honeyed voice asked. You turned around to see Kaeya, who gave a small wave before sitting beside you. The exhaustion from his tasks as the Cavalry Captain was evident on his face and body.

“I was… just taking a break. The last commission I got from Marjorie took me all over to Old Mondstadt.” You replied. Kaeya could not fault you. The winds bellowing under the old tree in Windrise calmed both the body and mind, only a few of the blessings he would thank the Anemo Archon for.

You shifted in your seat to lean further into the tree. That was when Kaeya noticed the tight hold on your vision. He put two and two together and realized that something must have happened again. It was no secret that you could not wield your vision. People may revere those blessed by the gods, but it was also a source of contempt and jealousy for others to hold. When a few adventurers in the Guild discovered that you could not use your vision because of your fear of flames, they called you names for being useless.

'You're so useless!'

'This would have been faster if you could use your vision. Tch!'

'Why did the gods even bless you?'

They could see how their words brought you down, but Rosaria chastised them, leaving a threat anybody knew she would fulfill. Truly unbefitting for a nun, but she did not care. The maroon-haired woman glanced at you and voiced her opinion.

“So what if you can’t use your vision? Your experience and tenacity are enough to survive as an adventurer. The gods gifted them yada yada. Enough of that crap. Pave your own path with or without the vision.” Her words brought you back to your senses.

Silence, a not-so-comforting one, fell between you and Kaeya. The Cavalry Captain was lost in his thoughts, hoping to find a way he could help you utilize your power while also overcoming your fear. Then, a lightbulb lit up, and a grin made its way to his face.

"(Y/N), I know a way you can practice using your vision, but we require somebody to help you. I know just the right person." He uttered, glee and excitement evident in his tone. You squinted your eyes in confusion, but he merely sighed and pulled you up.

"Come on, you'll love it."

In an instant, you found yourself in the tavern. The boisterous laughter and chide of drunkards filled your ears. Rosaria merely smiled and pulled you next to her to sit. Kaeya sat down on the other side and called for the bartender who just happened to be Diluc.

'Huh...? Why here?' You groaned internally. No offense to Kaeya and Diluc, but this was the last place you expected to learn how to use your vision correctly.

Suddenly, a drink slid in front of you. The lustrous blue sparkled against the light, reminding you of the waters in Liyue. You gave Diluc a questioning look, to which he replied, ‘It’s on the house’. Kaeya had a grin plastered on his face while Rosaria raised her glass. You clinked yours with hers and thanked them.

Once you were distracted, Kaeya turned to Diluc. He did not miss the fond look present in the red-head’s eyes. Coughing, he gave him a sheepish look, one that Diluc returned with a deadpan face.

“So, mind telling me what’s with this?” He inquired. Kaeya proudly huffed that he pulled you here to get a drink and forget about the harsh words from the entitled adventurers in the Guild.

Diluc’s interest was piqued. He was also aware of your predicament, the inability to use your pyro vision because of pyrophobia. He once heard those cowards judge you when you did all the work for the commission. It irked him to no end just how prideful they were, but you just gave them an apology and smile. You were too good for them.

“I’m sure you did not just do that for a drink. What’s your plan, Kaeya?” Diluc pushed. The Calvary Captain smirked and informed him of his plan. The red-haired tycoon paled at each word that escaped his brother’s lips. There was no way it would work.

“Oh, come on! You’ve done this before with the knights. Plus, (Y/N) is not incompetent. I’m sure you’ve seen her train every now and then outside of the city walls. You also get to spend time with her~” He teased, the tycoon’s ears turning red at the insinuation.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Despite his reluctance, Diluc asked you to meet him by the winery the next day after your commission. You asked him what for, and he replied flatly, “Training”. You blinked in confusion before he explained Kaeya’s request to help you wield your vision. He was blessed with one, after all. It worried you that you would probably waste his time, but he countered it.

“You can always feel scared to take the next step, but don’t let that hinder you from moving forward. Haven’t you always wondered if you could get over your phobia? Or at least keep it at bay enough to utilize your vision?” His tantalizing crimson eyes pierced right through your worried ones. Biting your lip, you gave him a determined look.

“I’ll be in your care, Master Diluc.”

Diluc was a spartan. Relentless in every way possible. Your first day with him ended with scorches around his porch and a bit in his garden, which you profusely apologized for. He assured you it was natural, considering how you trembled at the sight of fire in your hands. True to his words, you faltered at the blazing element in your hand. Your throat was closing up, but Diluc tried calming you down with his instructions.

Mishaps caused you to feel a little down, but you did gain one valuable information about your power. The flames you created were a beautiful shade of blue, similar to that sparkling drink your master gave you. It made you smile.

The following days were filled with envisioning the flames in your hands. Diluc said that mental training was necessary for your body and mind to get used to the pyro energy. He made you endure the searing flames and their different shades. It amazed you that it could vary along with its temperature accordingly. Blisters would appear on your fingers, but the tycoon was always ready with ointments and bandages. You even got taken care of by Adelinde after accidentally setting a part of your hair on fire. Hence, you had to get a new haircut. You liked it, though.

“All right, now take your weapon and infuse the fire there. Imagine it as a coating, then keep the shape as long as possible.” He instructed. Taking a deep breath, you held your weapon before you and activated your vision. It was a slow process, but Diluc remained patient. You could keep it for two minutes, but it was not enough.

“Again, try for five minutes this time.”

It took a week to get hold of elemental infusion, but the battle was another thing. Diluc sparred with you, but it always ended up with your weapon being thrown out of your hands. It frustrated you that you could not concentrate enough to keep its shape while dodging and thinking of a way to hit the redhead.

“Focus! The flames are going out again.”

“Your footing is off, you’ll get hit from the sides if you keep that! Balance yourself.”

“Stand up. We’re not yet done. You—“ Diluc was stopped by your piercing eyes and vision flaring up. Silently, you dashed towards him, raised your sword and aimed it at him. He internally smirked before shielding his body with his claymore. His crimson eyes pierced yours, but you had enough of the frustration deep within you.

You trained your eyes on him while keeping the blue flames. There was a plan in your mind that you wished to try. Whether it would fail or not was up to your execution. You ran towards him and were about to parry with him again, but you jumped on his claymore and used it to maneuver yourself. You got behind and set your sword ablaze. Diluc was caught off-guard. Luckily, he deflected it in time, but not unscathed. He got minor burns from the flare.

“So you can do it after all.” He voiced, proud of your accomplishment. You were pulled out of your stupor by his praise, eyes suddenly glazing at the sight of your sword still alight.

“I did… Look, Master! I could do it! This is amazing! I—“ You suddenly fell, exhaustion finally catching up to your body. Diluc hurried to your side and asked if you were all right. Laughter emerged from your lips. You assured him that you were just tired. The smile present on your face and the gleam of your eyes froze him. You were ethereal.

“Thank you so much, Diluc. Although I still have some fear in my heart, you helped me overcome it bit by bit. This flame is so beautiful.” You muttered, willing the same blue flame to appear in your hand. The way it danced before you was mesmerizing. It gave you courage and confidence.

Diluc sat down beside you and materialized a flame of his own. He placed it near you, and they swirled around before dissipating in the wind. It was beautiful. Silence soon overcame you two, but this was a comforting one.

The redhead watched the sunset. After days of paperwork and training, this was the first time he saw how beautiful Mondstadt was. However, this time, he had someone precious beside him. He knew he had to act soon.

“You learned a lot from me, and I honestly don’t want our meetings to end once you fully grasp your vision. Will you… I mean not to bother you, but will you allow me to spend more time with you after?” He asked, cheeks and ears reddened at his request.

“What…?” You saw his embarrassed visage, and it made you shy all of a sudden. This was an unexpected outcome, but not one you were unwilling to take.

“I mean, visit here and—“

“I’d love to. But take me out for a proper dinner after this, okay, Diluc?” You teased. He blinked owlishly before erupting in chuckles. His smile was captivating, and you could not help your hands but touch his cheeks. He stopped and gave you a warm smile. It was right here that you realized you had fallen in love with the only flame in your life.

‘Why is he so beautiful!?’

Please do not copy or repost my stories, but notes and reblogs are always appreciated!

[ramayantika]

Filmi prompts from old and our favourite bollywood songs that can be used for your desi romantic stories or as a cute little idea for your fake scenarios. Kya malum sochte sochte kab manifest hojaye?

1. Neele Neele Ambar Par (Kalaakaar)

-- This summer vacation you are at your nani ghar. The nights provide respite from the scorching heat so you run off to the terrace every night to sit and gaze at the moon until one fine evening, you see a boy opposite to your house wistfully gaze at the moon and scribble something on his notebook. His wavy hair falls gracefully on his eyes, and you can feel your heart melt. It's full moon, and she is right on the top of the terrace, letting her moonbeams fall on this handsome quiet writer. Perhaps, he realized someone's gaze over him. He looks up, and you swear to God that you have never seen such a beautiful boy ever. The boy blushes and continues writing while stealing glances at you.

2. Mitwa (Chandni)

-- It's the last day you both will ever meet in the school premises. Yes, it's farewell today. You are dressed in a yellow chiffon saree. For the first time, your school decided to make the boys wear kurtas instead of the usual suits, and the sight was too pretty for your eyes. Your boyfriend wore the typical black kurta with cuffed sleeves that made your heart go dhak dhak. Loads of fun filled dancing, canteen ka khana, principal ke speech ke baad arrived the time to say goodbyes. School had kept the farewell after board exams so this was literally the last time you all gathered together. After hugging your friends, you go to the school main gate and find him leaning against the adjacent wall.

Hand in hand, both of you walk outside the school. 'Everything is going to change, isn't it?" You ask. He takes a bite of his ice cream, and answers, "Yes. No more school classes, no more sneaking out and we might have a long distance going on, but some things will stay permanent."

"Aur voh kya?"

"Tere mere honthon pe mithe mithe geet mitwa.."

3. Bole Chudiyan (K3G)

-- You are the bride's sister, and that boy is your acadmeic rival at school. However, for now, he is also your jija's dear brother. Today is Sangeet, and you were determined to outperform ladke vale. Both of you were good at academics, but also at dancing. This was a test and a chance to rub defeat on his face.

That was your actual plan until two days ago, your didi jiju decided to have a group combined performance where you and your rival would be the lead dancers to unite both the enemies (you and him). Needles to say, you were mad. There was no way you would dance with his smooth moves and charismatic style. He was mad too. He would never dance with your graceful bollywood moves straight from 90s Saroj Khan choreohgraphy.

Keeping aside snide remarks and your school rivalry, both of you managed to choreograph and coordinate everyone dashed with a little tension that did not go unnoticed by didi jija and cousins. Dressed in a baby pink lehenga, you see him arrive on the stage in a golden white sherwani. He sends a two finger salute to your direction while you roll your eyes.

'Aake meri duniya mein vapas aajana' you pull him gently as per the choreography. He stumbles towards you, not aware of his scarf clinging on to your bracelet. 'Sehra baandh ke mahi tu mere ghar aana...' He twirls you halfway and you notice that his scarf is stuck on your bracelet.

You hate how his stupid handsome smirk is making butterflies fly in your body. After the semi twirl, he turns you over in front, his arm around your bare waist causing you to gasp silently. God knows what came over him. He lightly pecks your cheek in front of everyone and discreetly removes his stuck scarf.

'Oye soni kitti soni aaj tu lagdi ve bas mere sath yeh jodi teri sajdi ve' Didi and jija come in and dance to their assigned part. You run away from him quickly to calm your racing heart.

He is looking at you, a grin gracefully sitting over his pretty lips. You bashfully look up. 'Haan main ho gaya tera sajna.' It's the time for all the boys to come together on the stage. Your rival shoots a smooth wink before going to dance.

4. Ek ladki ko dekha toh aisa laga (1942: A love story)

You accidentally fell from your cycle by speeding over the speed breaker. Obviously you won't cry. You are fifteen now. A girl quickly arrives towards you, and in a soft voice asks, "Hey, you okay? That was a terrible fall. Dhyan kidhar tha?" Wincing, you look up, and see a pretty girl with silver jhumke and white salwar blowing at your wound. She is wearing a multi coloured bandhani dupatta. In two seconds, you forget the blood oozing out of your knee. The only red your eyes are focused on are on the pretty red shade of the girl's lips.

She is about to tear her dupatta to tie it across your wound. Your hand immediately holds her wrist, and you feel electricity jolt in your fingers. "Itna sundar dupatta kharab mat karo. Ghar idhar paas hai. Just help me to reach my gate, please."

Shaking her head, she tears her dupatta while you let out a gasp. "You are bleeding too much, besides I can always buy a new dupatta." She finally looks up at you and smiles. That's when you get a clear picture of her face.

Doe eyes lightly lined with kajal, a small bindi right between her eyebrows, and a small stone nath on her nose. She looks heavenly! You think how in front of such a beautiful girl, you look dust laden after falling off your bicycle.

"Aise mat dekho... tumhe pyaar ho jayega."

*:..｡o○　○o｡..:**:..｡o○　○o｡..:**:..｡o○　○o｡..:*

Okay so the last one was inspired from @morally-gayy series.

There are going to be more. I can make them shorter though if you would want that.

Guys padh lena 🙏

Me forgetting to tag people again: @sanskari-kanya @manujanolavu @ma-douce-souffrance @kaal-naagin @ketchup-jar-ka @arachneofthoughts @irlparvati @krishna-sahacharini @krishna-priyatama

[thoughtsfromthecowshed]

The Scheduling Au- pt 7

Extracurriculars. Honestly the idea of a boarding school with Zero activities other then some student run clubs is a bit absurd. So imma fix it.

Now most of these activities are based around camp activities because honestly what is camp but entertainment for children that adults organise outside of school. I think that at some point a sports rec centre was built to help facilitate the sports side and all the other activities can be run out of classrooms. Most of them are called clubs just for ease of naming at this point in time.

So for the list of possible clubs both past and present:

Archery

Choir

Book club

Bee keeping

Séance society

Film

Photography

Gaming

Robotics

Drama

Pottery

Canoeing/kayaking

Camping

Dance

Art (this one gets split up into sculpture and painting/drawing depending on the day)

Hiking

Gardening

Crafting (colloquially it’s known as as the stitch and bitch club but ya know gotta keep it school appropriate)

Music (there are several student bands and one teacher one. There’s also a mixed student and teacher band, once Wednesday joins the school someone catches her and Larissa doing a duet in the music classroom and blackmail them to join. (It was Enid))

There are also several sports teams that can be joined and for that, because I’m lazy just imagine you’re normal school sports in America. (yes including colour-guard. (No I’m not spelling that the american way)) These are all held in the sports centre which has all of the equipment to handle all sports related things and most of the equipment for the more sporty clubs.

Now most of the of the clubs are student run but they do have to have adult supervision if there is a chance of injury or if they are going off of school property. Teachers are also allowed to join if they are interested in the club. So for example most of the PE teachers are part of either the hiking or camping clubs.

Larissa was part of the crafting club as a student and still attends it as a teacher and later on as the principal. She doesn’t often join the gossip but because she spends some of her time with the vampire part of the student body she is keyed into most of the gossip. So if someone is bitching about a situation going on she likes to give perspective and help the students out with whatever is going on.

Enid is also part of the crafting club and really enjoys sitting next to Larissa and listening to her talk about her week. Larissa has really taking to having Enid next to her and likes to teach her new crafting techniques.

Most clubs are held in the morning before breakfast. The rest are all held in the evening after dinner. And all clubs hold half day meets every weekend. Most clubs also organise school wide activities once a month to showcase what they’ve been doing and to get people interested in joining.

Thats all for now. Up next more on Wednesdays time at the school because I keep putting that off.

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[inaris-mage-of-storms]

"So what do I have to do to get the handcuffs out?"

Jimmy stumbled over his next step and gave Scott a wide-eyed look. "Um. What?" They were at the creeper farm, and he turned to look at Scott, his back against the wall.

Scott's eyes danced with delight and mischief as he leaned in close. "You're a sheriff. You have handcuffs, right?"

Jimmy was glad for the sounds of the farm behind him, certain Scott would hear the pounding of his heart otherwise. "I don't, uh. I don't have handcuffs."

"Shame." Scott's breath ghosted over Jimmy's lips, and he rested a hand on Jimmy's chest. "That's like 20% of the reason I wanted to visit."

"Sorry to disappoint," said Jimmy weakly, feeling like the support of the cobble behind him was the only thing keeping his knees from buckling. The smell of flowers was almost overwhelming. He licked his lips, not missing the way Scott's eyes flickered to his mouth at the movement. "I need to, uh. I need to go down the stairs to check the stock."

There was a beat of silence before Scott pulled back, and Jimmy sighed in relief. "Of course," said Scott. "Lead the way."

When Jimmy had handed Scott a bundle with far more gunpowder than he actually needed and Scott had handed over the dyes, the conversation turned toward forming an alliance between Tumble Town and Chromia as they walked back down the hill.

"I think an alliance sounds great," said Jimmy. "But I do ask all potential allies to pass a test before it becomes official."

"Okay," said Scott. "What's my test?"

"Just two simple things." Jimmy straightened up to his full height and squared his shoulders as he looked at Scott. "Do you respect the law?"

It took every ounce of Scott's self-control to not burst into laughter at the very thought. "Yes," he answered, not quite managing to keep his voice steady.

Jimmy didn't miss the sarcasm that leaked into his tone, but fortunately he only looked amused rather than offended. "I need you to say it with a bit more...you know, not biting your tongue while you say it." He moved on to the second question. "Do you respect the sheriff?"

Scott looked at the man standing before him. The lanky, lean farmboy he remembered had gained a few inches of height and a lot of muscle, and his aura of nervous excitement had been replaced with a fire of pride and determination in his gaze. But that gaze was still soft and gentle at its heart, even if the edges were a little sharper and a little more wary. The sun still shone in his golden hair, and the same freckles still dappled his face like stars. Scott looked at him, and he ached. Respect, he realized, wasn't the only thing he felt, but that was hardly anything he could say, and Jimmy was looking at him expectantly for his answer.

"Yes," he said softly. "So much."

Jimmy smiled, and what little air was left in Scott's lungs fled at the sight. "Great," he said happily. "That's all I needed to hear. Let's go get our alliance written up." They set off toward the office, but as he reached for the door Jimmy paused and turned to look at Scott again. "I take my alliances extremely seriously," he said. "But I only give one chance. If you betray my trust, there will be problems."

Scott stared back at him, mind whirling with all the things he could never say. Jimmy had no idea who Scott was. He had no idea that by not knowing, he was unwittingly giving Scott a second chance. He had no idea that Scott would die before he would make the same mistake twice.

He smirked instead, reaching for his armor of wit. "Problems, huh? Does that mean the handcuffs come out?"

It worked. Jimmy's serious expression turned into a wide-eyed blush. "No! No handcuffs. Definitely not." He pushed the door open, and Scott followed him into the office.

He looked around while Jimmy opened a drawer and rummaged around, his gaze pausing on the cat that perched on the corner of the desk and stared him down. "Where on earth did you get a magic cat?" he asked, dumbfounded by the glow he could see around the otherwise perfectly average-looking feline.

Jimmy gave him a confused look, setting a piece of paper on top of the desk and closing the drawer. "Sorry, what?"

"I have the ability to see magical things," said Scott. "Or rather, my eye does. The golden one. It's...it's a long story. But you have a magic cat."

"Are you feeling all right?" asked Jimmy, clearly baffled. "I mean, he's smart, sure. And I call him my deputy, but he's just a cat. A regular old, every day, normal cat." He scratched the cat behind the ears. "Isn't that right, Norman?"

Norman closed his eyes and purred at the touch. "If you say so," said Scott warily, sensing that Jimmy wasn't going to easily believe him. Norman opened his eyes and resumed staring at Scott, and Scott could swear the cat was smirking at him. He looked away, moving his attention back to Jimmy. "So, where do I sign?"

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