#could you PERHAPS not also make it dangerous and life threatening at times???? hello???

[eldritch-spouse]

Woah hey, you just ran into a fey-

Say hello to Mooncalf !

Do not give him your name.

This not-so-little trickster has been in a deep sleep for a looong long while. It's unclear what got him to stir, perhaps the abnormal phenomena Earth is going through all of a sudden, but now that Mooncalf is wide awake, he has a lot of playtime to catch up on.

Monsters of his kind are some of the most dangerous you could ever find. Short of siadar themselves, these entities often hold far too much power for their immature attitudes. They love games and they hate to lose, to come out unscathed is to have impressive wit. Thankfully, they're quite rare.

Aligning himself with no one's values or goals, Mooncalf lives for the thrill of self-amusement. For deceit, games, music, comedy- His desires as simple and gentle as they can be dark and sadistic. The real consistency of fey like him lies in their worship of the lunar cycles, from which they claim their power is drawn from.

To catch his attention is to reveal yourself particularly unique, or simply stand out at the wrong time in the wrong place. Either way, you're assured a joyride in a pocket space that'll leave you more than a little rattled. Even if you never allow this fey to have ownership over you the proper way, Mooncalf is possessive and adamant that only he may interfere with your life's trajectory, a persistence predator more than anything else. His love for you translates into constant attempts to make your surroundings interesting and exciting, but oftentimes only result in giving you mild to severe anxiety.

Although fey are fond of disguises, many of them will have "go-to" forms, so while you see Mooncalf's bird-legged, hunched visage often, he may appear to you in other ways.

A consequence of staying asleep for as long as he has is that his magic has yet to shake off a certain inertia, which keeps his glamors static and prevent him from shifting back to his natural state. For this reason, Mooncalf avoids taking on his conventionally attractive humanoid disguise. It grows quite irritating to stay in it for prolonged periods of time, causing him to become aimlessly violent.

A non-threatening, rounded form exists to aid him in drained or unsafe states, with the intent of appealing to any perceived predator's emotions and evoking merciful urges. This form is also excellent to preserve energy as a whole. Although presumably weakened when in this state, it wouldn't be a bright idea to just punt Mooncalf against the nearest wall.

When Mooncalf is entering a rut, he will "hunt" a possible partner by using the humanoid disguise and attempting to trick someone into stepping inside a pocket space.

Well. Good luck with bird legs.

[aziraphales-library]

Hii!! I want to thank you guys for recommending and going thru the work to "provide"?

Anyways thank you so so much for helping

Do you have any fics about Crowley getting a dangerous job or smth (like a spy or bodyguard etc)?

I would amuch do appreciate it if Aziraphale could be in it too someway. Also I don't really mind if it's a human pov or not.

Sorry for such a long message, bye bye! <3

Hello! Here are some fics in which Crowley has a dangerous job...

fell in love with the fire long ago by midnightdragons (T)

The EMT was a handsome older bloke, with soft, curly blonde-white hair and warm blue eyes that were soft and crinkled at the edges. His cheeks were round and flushed with red, and he looked rather frazzled, but in a way that somehow looked so utterly gorgeous. White gloves were pulled tightly over his hands, contrasting the dark color of his uniform, and spectacles balanced on his nose, slightly fogged from the smoke nearby, though they were, for the most part, out of range from the smoldering church. “Hi.” Crowley, who was caked in grime and smoke and debris and who was wearing a dirty, unwashed firefighter’s suit and who was barely able to speak in a voice louder than a raspy, hoarse croak, thought that perhaps he had died and gone to Heaven. Would’ve believed it, too, with this angel before him, if the adrenaline wasn’t starting to wear off, giving way to dull, throbbing pain in his skull. “M’Crowley,” he introduced himself, rather stupidly. “Anthony Crowley.”

Crowley is a firefighter; Aziraphale is an EMT. A First Responders Human AU one-shot of their 'first' (whumpy but fluffy) meeting, inspired by artwork (link in A/N & artwork included)!

A Walk on the Wild Side by Sani86 (M)

Crowley has been working as a game ranger at Engadini Game Reserve for... well, more years than he cares to count. A new manager threatens to upset everything with his plans to turn Engadini into a prime eco-tourism destination. But the new chef he appointed for the lodge might just make it all worth while. Meanwhile, Aziraphale - the new chef in question - can't stop staring at the lanky red-headed game ranger who moves like a snake. Unfortunately, romantic entanglements of any kind are strictly against the rules, and could cost them both their jobs. How long can they fight the undeniable attraction between them?

This Way For Up by brutumfulmen (M)

Called onto the scene of a cave exploration accident, Crowley struggles against increasingly grim odds to save a young scout trapped deep underground. All while keeping everyone, from a nervous troop leader to Crowley himself, calm in the meantime.

For His Eyes Only by AFrenchFanWriter (M)

Anthony J. Crowley has been an MI6 spy for 10 years, completing successful mission after successful mission under the guidance of his quartermaster, Aziraphale Fell. But this life is starting to take its toll on him as he is getting older; and when, one day, his past comes back to haunt him, Crowley realizes that it might be time for him to hang up his gun and face all the things he has left unaddressed… (Yep, it is basically a James Bond/Q AU!)

The Infernal Bodyguard by Santillatron (M)

Alistair Zira Fell is a popular author. Loved by everyone he meets. Well, almost everyone. Someone is trying to hurt him, and right now, he needs a bodyguard. Anthony J. Crowley is the best, although he doesn't work with celebrities. He has three rules. He never gets too close, never stays once the job is done, and Never Gets Involved. But this isn't a thriller. This, is a love story.

The False and the Fair by Princip1914 (E)

Growing up in the shadow of West Virginia’s Eden Mountain, Aziraphale Wright always expected to work for the family coal mining company. Anthony Crowley, the son of a down-and-out miner, was going to become a pilot and leave town forever. Now, thirty years later, neither of their lives have gone as planned, and an unexpected inheritance brings them back into one another’s orbit. Aziraphale hopes that they can move beyond their shared past, and a high school arrangement that ended in disaster, but he has secrets of his own that threaten their fragile reconnection…

- Mod D

[damianbugs]

thoughts on bruce x jack drake?

hello anon apologies for the late reply but when i first received this ask i immediately assumed there was a leak in mine and @plutoslvr messages because we were literally talking about it about two seconds beforehand. i could barely sleep that night.

my thoughts are that old man yaoi is so enjoyable when it's just slightly ridiculous and entirely impossible. there are three ideal sections of the brujack ship (enjoyed by population NO ONE, apparently, but with our combined efforts i imagine we can spark this flame):

rivals to lovers

bruce wayne vs wanting to bone people who want him dead

doomed by the narrative

1. rivals to lovers.

bruce and jack competing in the worlds most intense "who is the best average-leaning-towards-okay dad" battle. trying to outperform in casual "okay dad" actions to win "okay dad" points from tim, something that is totally normal and entirely possible (jack is always in the lead and bruce has not yet realised that he will never overtake him).

this one is so fucking funny to me. silly events such as them fighting on who gets to take tim to his school events, comprising on taking turns (for tim's sake, not because they want to) or attending them together (the pta now think bruce wayne and jack drake are in a relationship). jacks like im taking tim to the skate park and bruce is like well i told tim i'd take him to lunch — now it's bruce and jack taking their kid to the park then lunch together and the paparazzi have no idea how to headline this.

i imagine eventually tim can't handle this truly bizarre tension filled dynamic anymore so he cancels last minute and bruce and jack are like, well, we've already booked a table at this super expensive restaurant AND that cool movie afterwards, so we might as well make use of them.

at some point the "i HAVE to one up the other guy to impress my son" becomes "i HAVE to one up the other guy to impress our son AND so he realises how i'm obviously a catch"

i imagine eventually when they form some sort of established relationship ("do not call me your damn boyfriend, bruce, are we fifteen?") the rivalry doesn't really stop, but it's far more fond and well, tim's just glad he doesn't need to set aside two days a week to make sure he spends time with each of them.

2. bruce wayne vs wanting to bone people who want him dead

now we all know bruce's ideal type is someone who is either a) actively a danger to his life or b) was at some point more inclined to being a danger in his life or a secret third thing that is c) would become a danger to his life if pushed slightly in that direction. we've no time to psychoanalyse this but it's hardly a point that needs to be explained after taking a look at his long list of exes.

now, after this, is it truly out of the realm of possibility that after jack drake finds out that bruce wayne is the fucking batman and is to partly blame for tim's dangerous life choices he stomps over to the man's house and threatens to SHOOT HIM, that bruce wants him carnally. my exact words when reading this scene was "rather reservedly, i imagine this level of foolish and almost stupid bravery impressed bruce, regardless if it it was for entirely unselfish reasons on jack's part or if it was genuinely out of care for tim" i then say "i also think this would have moved bruce, emotionally, figuratively, poetically, sexually WOAH"

we all know that canonically when bruce falls in love or becomes even slightly interested in someone, he goes STUPID and impulsive. he's sending jack rare artefacts and really specific gifts and throwing galas with the sole purpose of inviting jack all without even considering that is actually not a normal response to have after someone threatens to kill you. perhaps he doesn't even realise this is something more than just paranoid obsession, and he tries to rationalise it like "i'm only trying to convince him to come with me to the museum so i can work out what kind of person he is in casual date settings and also to kiss him WAIT"

this one is funny if jack is just not interested at all and he's like okay what the fuck what kind of mind games is this guy trying to pull. tim is your mentor trying to tell me something through the purchase of these front seat opera house tickets and tim is like i can't believe this is real life i hope this is all a nightmare this can't be happening to me. bruce is hopelessly infatuated and jack is like don't think i won't file a restraining order against you BATMAN.

or it can get funnier if jack is like I WONT FALL FOR YOUR SEDUCTION TECHNIQUES BATMAN (proceeds to fall for batman's seduction techniques).

bonus alfred is actively praying on jacks downfall (canon) and is experiencing war flashbacks when bruce begins to display lovesick behaviour

3. doomed by the narrative

now as you may have noticed most of these work before the bright red alarm that is JACK DRAKE'S TRAGIC DEATH. his death in and of itself is already so sad, because he was changing, he was better and tim was so close to having everything he wanted, and jack was truly hopeful to be present and good to his son.

if we now throw in the mix of this shortlived romance, wherein canon bruce is already swamped with guilt about janet's death and feels as though he OWES it to tim to save jack as well, it becomes all the more heartbreaking. i would actually change nothing about how it happened in canon. jack still leaves that phone call for tim, tim and bruce still race to get to him, tim still finds his father's dead body and bruce still holds tim away from the corpse.

because the best part about this potential relationship is that it is born from the shared want to look after tim. it's what connects them and what causes any sort of interaction between them. so even at this point, bruce's first priority is tim, because it will always be tim first, but also because that is what jack would have wanted from him.

just another love for bruce to hide in his heart, let it consume and damage him, let it make him colder and harder to approach, another layer on this already unbreakable foundation. it probably causes problems between tim and bruce, for the sake of mourning but not reacting and simply because loss can make people very unkind. bruce's guilt is now more than just what he already feels for somehow failing tim, but also for not being able to save someone he loves, again.

OR jack lives au and bruce is even MORE obsessed and insufferable about it and tim literally has to help his own dad break out of the manor because batman is holding jack hostage (bedrest for almost dying).

or we have our obligatory bruce wayne "I almost lost you, so now im going to push you away for both our sake" arc to which Jack drake probably threatens to shoot bruce again and then they do it silly HAPPY ENDING EVERYONE GO HOME

[imagines--galore]

Okay HI hello I hope you're doing well!! I haven't been on tumblr for a few days, been so distracted with stuff but I've had an idea in my head for so long now I gotta share it.

Stephen Strange x Reader (ofc lmao) where Reader and him are in a secret relationship cause they know it would cause problems within the Avengers and their dangerous jobs.

One day, everyone is in the tower discussing stuff. And idk how it would lead up to it. But essentially goes like

Stephen: I'll have to ask the wife.

Tony: you have a wife. You of all people? What- did you buy some bimbo off ebay?

Essentially just absolutely dissing him not at all believing that he has a wife etc etc. And Stephen is all annoyed and says something in defense. And eventually reader goes

"The wife says no." While glaring at Tony

Pairing: Dr. Stephen Strange x Reader Rating || Genres || Warnings: T. Romance. A/N: How do you come up with these brilliant ideas?!

You knew the meeting was important. It was the only time when all the Avengers were on planet, in dimension and with no missions.

A rare occurrence.

Which was why Tony Stark had decided to call in all the Avengers to discuss their most recent missions and take notes. In case there was some other threat looming over the horizon that could potentially destroy the planet.

So far, no one had reported anything out of the ordinary. And you were glad. Not only because the world was at peace for the time being, but also because it meant your husband didn't have to run off on a mission that required his expertise.

Your husband was none other then Dr. Stephen Strange.

And when it came to the nature of your relationship, no one knew.

Or perhaps some of them knew. But if they did, no one had revealed it to anyone else. Which was just how the both of you preferred it to be.

Mostly because it provided you two with the privacy that you needed, and given your line of work, the more secretive a relationship the better. If Barton could hide his entire family from the rest of the world as well as the Avengers for a good many years, then you and Stephen could hide the nature of your relationship as well.

Not that you were ashamed of it or anything. Nothing of the sort. The decision was made on behalf of the fact that the nature of your jobs was life-threatening. He had his fair share of enemies, and you had yours. And while both of you were capable of holding your own against the opposing forces, there was no harm in taking extra precaution.

Hence the secrecy of your relationship.

Though for the last few days or so, you had been discussing about getting it out in the open. At least to the rest of the Avengers.

At present you were listening to Captain America as he assigned the next set of missions to everyone. There were only a few, and you had been paired with AntMan who had waved at you. You smiled and waved back. You liked working with Scott, he was always fun to be around.

However, you did not miss the way Stephen's eyes found yours. You only gave him a small smile and a wink, knowing how much he preferred that the both of you take on missions together.

But hey, he couldn't always get what he wanted.

Just then Tony asked Stephen a question, to which your husband was a little late with his response. Prompting Tony to gaze quizzically at him.

"Feeling alright there Dumbledore? Don't want you flaking out on me during the mission." Apparently Stephen had been paired with Tony Stark aka Iron Man himself. The realization prompted you to hide your smile behind your hand.

"Stop calling me that." Stephen stated in a deadpan voice, which only served to make Tony goad him further.

"Oh lighten up. Or should I say Lumos?" This time a giggle did escape you, but you weren't the only one. Anyone who got the reference let out a small laugh at your husband's expense.

"You need to learn to take a joke Strange, but think about it? You're a single fella going on a mission where the majority of the population on the planet is female, should double your chances of getting laid wouldn't it?" Since he was already married to Pepper, Tony of course made no mention of himself being in the same category as Stephen.

You frowned, your previous mirth forgotten as you glared at Tony. You knew it wasn't his fault for making such a remark, but you still couldn't help the small sliver of jealousy as well as anger that burned in you at the thought of Stephen being around all those women. Not that you didn’t trust him, you just didn’t trust females you didn’t know.

Stephen, ever the observant husband, was quick to pick up on your mood, even from sitting across the table on opposite ends. Perhaps your reaction was what compelled him to say what he did next.

"I don't know Stark, I'll have to ask the wife."

Instantly the whole atmosphere of the room changed. Everyone, even those who had their suspicions, turned to stare at the Sorcerer Supreme with a gobsmacked expression on their faces. You were one of them. You certainly hadn't been expecting him to come out and say it like that.

Tony was the first one to recover. "You have a wife? You?!" He let out a laugh of disbelief at which Stephen raised an eyebrow at him. "What did you buy her off E-Bay or something?" He continued to joke. Somehow he didn't think it possible for someone so uptight as Strange to have a girlfriend, let alone a wife.

"I mean come on Strange, if you want to lie, at least make it a convincing one." He continued with a roll of his eyes.

Stephen glared at Tony. “And why would I lie about having a wife?” The man shrugged. “You tell me. You’re the one who’s lying.”

“How about I just call her and ask?”

So saying Stephen drew our his phone from a pocket dimension and pressed dial on the number that was saved under your name.

Everyone could hear the phone ringing at the other end. What no one had been expecting was for your phone to start ringing within those first few seconds.

Your gaze was fixed on Tony’s as you picked up your phone from the table and accepted the call. Stephen instantly hit the speaker button, while you raised your phone to your ear and calmly spoke into it.

“The wife says no.” Your voice rang loud and clear, live as well as from the speaker of Stephen’s phone.

The reactions were instantaneous. While some only stared in disbelief, others were more vocal about it. Tony was the former, staring at the both of you, his brain unable to process what had just occurred. You ended the call before standing up and pretended to dust off the front of your skirt. “Husband? Would you mind taking us home now? I believe the meeting is over.”

Stephen stood as well, the triumphant look in his eyes was visible to everyone as he began to walk towards you, pulling out his sling ring as he went and sliding it on.

“Of course, my dear.”

He opened a portal to your shared rooms right behind you. Once he reached you his arm came to wrap around your waist, pulling you close to his side as he smiled at you.

“Oh and Stark? Do refrain from making remarks about my wife in the future.”

“I didn’t know you had one!” Tony defended himself. Which was true.

You smirked at him. “Well, now you do.”

With that you stepped through the portal. Though you couldn’t help but glance back one last time, if only to catch a glimpse of their still stunned faces.

Good thing your husband had a flair for the dramatics just as much as you did.

[frogspond200]

𝚈𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝙵𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚊

Requested by: @hello30135

Ask: Hello there I was wondering if you would like to do a yandere Fiona (Fiona and cake) headcanons?

Warning: General Yandere behavior

Date: 9/10/23

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Fionna’s tendencies are deeply concealed beneath her relaxed demeanor. She appears carefree and friendly to everyone, making it nearly impossible for others to suspect her dark side. Fionna’s first interactions with her S/O are characterized by her relaxed and friendly attitude. She easily wins their trust and affection.

Fionna’s obsession with her S/O is well-hidden at first. She respects their personal space and freedoms, ensuring they don’t suspect her true feelings. When Fionna feels jealous or threatened by someone getting close to her S/O, she remains outwardly calm. Instead of confronting the perceived rival, she subtly manipulates situations to keep her S/O away from them.

As Fionna’s obsession deepens, she becomes increasingly protective of her S/O. She might offer unsolicited advice, buy gifts, or intervene in their life in subtle ways to “help” them, all while appearing nonchalant.

Fionna’s ability to maintain her chill facade allows her to manipulate her S/O’s decisions and actions without raising suspicions. She always seems like the supportive partner on the surface.

Over time, Fionna may gently guide her S/O away from their friends and loved ones, convincing them that they don’t need anyone else but her for happiness. Fionna collects mementos related to her S/O, such as photographs or personal items. She also keeps tabs on their activities, always one step ahead to protect what she sees as “theirs.” Although rare, Fionna may experience moments of intense jealousy or possessiveness. During these times, her laid-back demeanor cracks, and her S/O might catch glimpses of her darker side.

Fionna establishes a secret hideaway, perhaps in a remote location, where she keeps her S/O hidden away from the world. This hideaway is meticulously prepared to provide for their basic needs while keeping them captive. Fionna may use deceit to lure her S/O to this hideaway, such as planning a romantic getaway that turns into a nightmarish ordeal. Her S/O may be drugged or incapacitated to ensure they don’t escape.

In this scenario, Fionna’s isolation tactics become more aggressive. She completely cuts off her S/O from the outside world, removing any means of communication or escape.

Fionna listens attentively as her S/O expresses their homesickness. She appears empathetic, showing understanding of their feelings. Fionna might try to recreate elements of their home environment within their captivity. This could include decorating the hideaway to resemble their room or preparing meals that remind them of home.

She offers physical affection and comfort, such as cuddling, hugging, or holding hands. She uses these moments to emphasize that she’s there to provide the emotional support they need. To divert their attention from homesickness, Fionna introduces engaging activities or hobbies they can enjoy together. This helps occupy their thoughts and reduce feelings of isolation.

Fionna continually reassures her S/O that they are safe and loved in her care. She emphasizes how she’s protecting them from the outside world’s perceived dangers. While providing comfort, Fionna subtly reinforces the idea that she’s the only one who can truly understand and comfort her S/O, further deepening their emotional reliance on her.

[dragonrider9905]

F P W ! 🤗 (for the ask game!)

EEEEkkkk!!!!! omigoodness!!!!! *waves shyly* hello :) I feel like I have gotten spotted by a celebrity!!! Masterjedilena is the first person who I started reading reader inserts from. I love the things I have read of yours so much! I still re-read What Is This Feeling when I need a comfort story!!!!! That was prime!!!!

F: Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

Ohhhhhhhhh this is a toughy!!!! I love writing dialogue and I have a lot of scenes I am proud of...but one that is jumping out at me right now would be from my fic "Death's Darling Daughter" which is a Hunter x Jedi OC story. It is a scene where they discuss his face tattoo. I never saw anything in any story (that I am aware of) that talks about his tattoo like this and I was very happy with how it turned out! Here it is:

“Sargeant, a word if I may?” Leyla moved to keep walking.

Hunter fell into step beside her, “Yes, Commander?” 

She was cryptically silent then for wanting to talk to him. Typical, Hunter thought. What a Jedi move to pull, say you want to talk, then be silent. 

“Your tattoo, a skull, correct? May I ask what prompted you to choose a manifestation of death as a symbol not only for your squad but yourself personally?”

It was Hunter’s turn to side eye the Commander. She was hard to read but he didn’t detect distaste in her voice, only a curious lilt. No one ever really asked him why he got it like that.

“It’s Mandalorian. It is a symbol of danger and dominance. It strikes fear into the heart of the enemy. If anyone threatens my squad, my face will be the last thing they see.” Hunter replied bluntly. 

“So you think of death more as a friend than something to be feared? Most see it the other way.”

“We were made to die, Commander.” He replied so nonchalantly that her unimpressed, sad and slightly annoyed face she made at the remark was pressing. 

“Not to me. I’ll see to it that you don’t any time soon, Sergeant.” 

“What then would you prefer my tattoo be of, Commander? A bantha? Or a little tooka perhaps?”

She stayed quiet for a moment. “Or do you think death is an enemy and by wearing its face, you somehow challenge it? Death can be frightening but it is just another path we take. Life does go on after death. It just changes form somewhat.”

“You still didn’t answer my question.” Hunter half-heartedly teased, feeling a slight bit uncomfortable.

“Nor did you answer mine.”

“We are different. Always have been, always will be. I’m embracing what our squad was made to do. We win the day, bring justice to those who deserve it and cheat death if we can. I suppose your philosophical point of view is somewhat correct but it is also a tease then. Death hasn’t claimed me yet.”

“Mm, and after the war, then what? What do you want for you and your brothers?” Leyla’s tone was never accusatory but remained steady and unassuming, curious even. 

Hunter had to pause. She may not have known it but that was a sore topic. Hunter didn’t know what would happen. How could he? Clones were still not considered people in the eyes of the Republic, how could he hope for an equal future as a nat-born? Or just a slightly better one than he had. He supposed he’d fight until he died—never really considered anything else. Mostly because he thought he couldn’t. Most likely, he’d end up back in Nala Se’s lab for more testing and experimentation. That made him shiver.

Hunter was proud he was able to keep his voice even and slightly disinterested in what he said next. “Commander, assuming we even make it out alive, we’d just stay a part of the Grand Army of the Republic. There is no other future for a clone. We were made to be warriors, what other path is there? Assuming we don’t die in the line of duty, which would be an honor also.”

Leyla hummed again. Hunter could tell she was dissatisfied with his answer but also surrendered to knowing what he said was right. Then she hit him with:

“The future is uncertain. If we all survive to the end of the war, many things could change. Don’t press on the future what is currently true today. Today clones are not—” she sighed, “people in the eyes of many but that doesn’t mean that it will be like that tomorrow. Look ahead, but not too far you can’t see one step in front of you. Look in front of you but don’t be blinded from what lies ahead.”

Then they were silent for a moment. 

“By the way,” Leyla added, “I wouldn’t change your choice of tattoo.” 

P: Are you what George R. R. Martin would call an “architect” or a “gardener”? (How much do you plan in advance, versus letting the story unfold as you go?)

I think I tetter somewhere in the middle. I have lots of things in my stories planned out, big staple things of where I want my stories to go (especially because I don't always think of my stories in order XD Sometimes the ending is the first thing I think of!) but a lot of the in between things, I let unfold and I see where it takes me!

W: Do you like more general prompts, or more specific ones?

I don't get too many prompts from people, but I do love getting them! I think I like them more on the general side; I don't mind specific ones, but when they are too specific, I fear I won't do their idea justice. If they are a little bit more general, and it gives me leeway, I do feel a little better about that. I don't mind getting lots of details they'd like in the story (the more the merrier!) but when the storyline is so detailed and leaves no room for creativity, it gets hard and I get nervous if the person will like it or not.

Thank you for the ask!!!! Made my day!!!! ❤️

Ask game

[link-alou]

@bitt-better (realized I forgot to fix it, so finally did that) HELLO HI. YOUR MIND /POS

Thank you for your interest!!! Genuinely, I haven’t thought too into the au. Though I do feel that Damian may be more prone to bullying? But also another part says not so much because, if we all had animal traits, wouldn’t you be interested if there was someone with a scorpion tail. But also, on my first point, you could technically call him an ‘early bloomer’, since it’s only bad bad situations that cause a person to gain the traits, it’s the body’s last defense mechanism. And some kids are more like to go “lol you’re probably so used to daddy’s money that something mildly inconvenient was your biggest threat ever”. I’d also say adults would be more prone to worry, since, “hey why does the very rich man have a child with animal traits despite him being so young”, though I’m sure the bats could come up with some sort of story as to why.

And the League of Assassins absolutely do try to manipulate what animals are nearby when they have the chance. Though it does get a bit tricky because most adults and teenagers in it have already gained their respective traits. So Damian, and anyone born in the League around that time, were sort of the first test? To see if the body would even accept a controlled variable, simply reach out to whatever seemed fit, or not react at all to a purposeful endangerment. Atm, I’ve been playing with the idea of Damian’s animal being an accident. Perhaps something happened during a spar that put him in genuine danger, and a scorpion was around. Though the idea of Ras wondering if a kid could harbor some kind of poison or stun is rather interesting. I’m playing with all sorts of ideas :3

I’m thinking maybe maybe animal traits can be hidden, though it takes constant focus to keep them away. It’s not something many people practice, no normal person’s going to teach their kid how to balance focusing on looking entirely human and focusing on everyday life. But the League of Assassins may, because what’s more trusting than someone that most defiantly hasn’t been in a risky situation yet. Though Damian wouldn’t hide his traits when meeting Bruce or his siblings, because he’ll feel threatened and in turn want to look threatening. No one wants to mess with a snappy kid that could actually harm you with his tail. So maybe I don’t need to brainstorm anything and Damian just makes himself look ‘normal’ when he goes to school and such. Maybe Bruce asked him because god is that man emotionally constipated and he doesn’t truly realize the weight of his words or what it could cause, or because there really won’t be many scorpion people in Gotham, so if his newest ward is one, and so is the newest Robin, he’ll be pretty easy to trace

In my opinion, I don’t think there’ll be much discrimination. Partially because I just don’t want to write it, and because it’s literally a source of trauma for every person. Sure there’ll always be someone willing to pick fun and push boundaries, but that’ll probably be as far as I’ll ever allow it to go. But if you really want, maybe people with prey animal traits are more wary towards those with predators and/or vice versa. Like someone with bird traits will get a little fidgety around, say, someone with dog or lion traits. It’s because there’s a little thing in their brain, pretty much a small replica of the respective animals slapped into a humans, telling them “danger danger danger” and the rest of the brain pays it very little mind.

You’re welcome to draw or write anything for this! I really love your thoughts and ideas, buddy. Tag me if you want but I might also stalk your page for dc content so I’ll prolly see stuff regardless.

This is all just me babbling, though. Again thanks for the interest, really got the brain juices flowing ₍^. ̫.^₎

Hello I am also in the DC fandom (you can probably tell from my page’s header). Take a quick doodle for a batfam au :3

I don’t remember if I dreamt the fic or if it actually exists, but the gist is: when a person is put in grave danger for the first time, they get the traits of whatever animal is closest to them. It only happens once, and sometimes people try to manipulate what animal another person gets the traits of, though it won’t always work.

Damian is a scorpion. What kind? I dunno! I just wanted to give him a stabby tail.

The art is when he was still getting used to Wayne Manor. Perhaps not violence-prone every second anymore, but still ready to lunge and stab. Due to him still being integrated into the family, there aren’t a whole bunch of clothes for him to wear yet; so I put the guy in an oversized red shirt that I’m pretending is a hand-me-down from Tim (I just want them to be brothers ok ☹️)

[willosword]

the more i muse about the infinity train itself the more i grow to Hate it with a burning passion

[starrconch]

Hello!! I hope you did well on your exams!

Also, I'm here for a prompt. Can I get,

Angst. no.14- Childe, Xiao, Diluc (can this be an angst but with a happy ending, or maybe I'm asking too much? Sorry I have a weak heart, but I still love angst). Thank you! (• ◡ •)

REGRETS

★ Includes: Childe / Tartaglia, Xiao, Diluc, GN reader, angst to fluff, "Can you shut up for once in your life" prompt from my event

★ Word Count: 2751

★ Master List

★ 100 FOLLOWERS EVENT

★ Notes: Heyo! I hope I did, though it doesn't feel like it T-T... Thank you for the request! This prompt was so much fun to write ahhh

CHILDE

★ The harbinger had a ton of work piled on him by the Tsaritsa, which was beginning to take its toll. Normally he was on top of his job, being productive every day, but now it was getting a little too much and it was beginning to stress him out.

★ You decided to help him with some of the easier and less dangerous tasks, hoping to ease some of the weight off of his shoulders, but you felt as though your assistance wasn’t wanted.

The treasure hoarders you had been tracking for hours finally made a stop for a rest. You and your partner hid behind a rock, listening in to their conversations to get the information that the cryo archon wanted. He had only agreed to let you come because he didn’t intend for any confrontation, and two pairs of ears were always better than one in this situation.

You turned to look behind you, making sure the coast was clear. Coming up over the hill was another group of treasure hoarders, directly in your line of sight. They were going to approach and see you, blowing your cover.

“Childe,” You hissed in a whisper, tugging on his sleeve. Despite your worry and obvious need to talk to him, he ignored you, leaning in closer to listen to his targets.

“Childe!” You tried again a little louder, watching as the treasure hoarders drew closer each second.

“Can you shut up for once in your life?” Your partner turned back to look at you. Where the words wouldn’t have necessarily hurt you, the glare of pure hatred that followed threatened to shatter your heart.

“Hey!” The treasure hoarders that you had spied called, drawing their weapons and running towards you. You drew your weapon as the other enemies you had been watching became alerted to your presence.

Flashing the harbinger an annoyed I-told-you-so look, you charged into battle, heading towards the smaller group to take some of them out. Behind you, you heard Childe do the same, targeting the main group of treasure hoarders instead.

★ The battle was tiresome but not exactly long due to your partner’s excellent fighting skills. It was also made easier by the ambush advantage the two of you had.

★ When the fighting was over, you both began to walk home. Whenever Childe tried to make conversation, you ignored him, keeping an awkward silence.

★ As you got home, you only cleaned yourself up a little and put your weapon away before heading out to Liyue Harbour to get some fresh air, hoping that another long walk would clear your mind.

Perhaps you were being too tough with Childe. He only wanted you to be quiet so he could hear the information being said, nothing more. But did he have to do it in such a mean way? You were only trying to warn him that your cover was going to be blown.

You strolled around Liyue, visiting some shops and seeing some friends in hopes to cheer you up. Even the consultant at the Wangsheng Funeral Parlour, who your partner seemed to be good friends with, tried to console you about your problem, saying that Childe likely didn’t mean it.

Doing this, you lost track of time, only realising when you looked to the dimming sky.

“Y/N?” You heard Childe call in the distance, panic laced through his voice. Was he okay? What was going on?

You rushed over to his location, placing a hand on his back. “Are you-”

You were cut off by Childe placing his hands on either side of your face and kissing you, then pulling you into a hug. “You’re still here,” he murmured into your neck, his arms tightening around you. He’d likely used his fatui agents to get your general location.

“What? Where did you think I was?” You returned the hug, happy that his worries were now dissipating.

“You looked mad at me, so I thought you’d just left me and you would never return.” He breathed in deeply, taking in your scent that he loved so much. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Your arms dropped to your sides, the memories of what he had done returning. “I am still mad at you.”

Childe pulled back from the hug, still keeping you close by resting his hands on your shoulders. “I’m truly sorry for talking to you like that today, I never want to do that again. I was just stressed and trying to finish the mission so I could spend the rest of the day with you. You were just trying to warn me of the treasure hoarders approaching us, that was a good thing to do.”

You nodded, understanding where he was coming from. “I forgive you.”

The beaming smile that appeared on his lips made your heart flutter in your chest. “Thank you.” He tugged on your arm leading you towards some of the restaurants. “Come on, let me take you out for dinner.”

XIAO

★ The two of you had set off early that morning as the adeptus had sensed some karma affected hilichurls in the area that he wanted to deal with. You had offered to help as you didn’t have any commissions that day and you wanted to spend your time with your partner.

★ However, as the day progressed and the more you searched, you couldn’t seem to find any of the enemies he thought he knew the whereabouts of, leaving him in a sour mood.

★ You headed home after searching for nearly the whole day, and to make matters even worse, the lift at Wangshu Inn was broken, forcing you to climb the stairs all the way up.

“Can’t you just teleport us up to the top with your adeptus powers?�� You whined, your shoulders slumped and your feet dragging against the wooden panels. Your body ached from all the walking you had been doing, you hadn’t even stopped for a break as Xiao had wanted to find something to hunt down.

“No,” he snapped in reply, walking in front of you with his arms crossed. “It’s good for your muscles. Quit complaining.”

The adeptus felt his eye twitch in annoyance. He loved you, he really did. But when you had been talking to him for the whole journey back when all he wanted to do was reflect on his mistakes in solitude, he was beginning to grow a little tired of you.

“But Xiao,” you whimpered then sighed in frustration. “How will it be good for my muscles when they’ve already had the most gruelling workout in their lifetime?”

“Can you shut up for once in your life? All you do is talk.” He stormed off ahead of you, taking the stairs two at a time to get away, leaving you standing still.

What had just happened? Sure, you were complaining a little too much, but did he have to be so harsh about it? He was harsh by nature, that was just the way he worked, but as the two of you grew closer, this shield had shattered to reveal his true caring personality. Why had he reverted to his previous self?

You continued after him, not as fast as you were prepared to give him a little space to cool off, but you still wanted an explanation soon. There was also the fact that your tired legs couldn’t even comprehend the thought of chasing after him.

As you walked on, the wooden panels beneath you began to creak. Thinking nothing of it, you ignored it, trying to come up with something to say to Xiao.

All of a sudden, one of the panels broke from under you, making you cry out in surprise and reach out in hopes to grab onto the bannister. You missed, your fingertips just grazing your safety.

With a scream you flailed in the air, panic consuming you. This was your end, after hoping you’d die valiantly in battle with your partner by your side, this was it. You’d die by falling.

Xiao had nearly made it to the top of the inn when he heard a scream sound from below him. At first, he thought nothing of it, assuming it to be one of the guests creating a lot of noise, but it felt familiar to him. It was something he often heard in his dreams, begging for your cries of pain and fear not to come true. It was you.

Without a second thought, he dashed over the edge of the inn and searched for you. He found you with tears streaming down your face, plummeting towards the ground, he didn’t have long left until you hit it.

With all the power he could muster, using his anemo vision to curve the wind so he could fall faster than you were, he dived after you, hoping that he wouldn’t be too late.

You closed your eyes, bracing yourself for impact. This was it. You wished Xiao could find it in him to forgive you for leaving him so soon.

Arms wrapped around your waist and back, pulling you close to a warm body. For a moment you were still falling and then in the next, you were on solid ground again, still clinging on to your saviour.

“Why didn’t you call my name?” The adeptus growled, still holding onto you too. He tried to hide the shaking of his hands, but you could still clearly notice it.

“You told me to be quiet, so I did,” you murmured, feeling ashamed for saying such a thing. It had been a life or death situation. If he hadn’t heard your fall you’d been a goner. But to be truthful, the thought hadn’t even crossed your mind. You’d been too busy panicking about your sudden demise.

“Look,” he began, his voice full of anger at both himself and you, “I’m sorry for saying that to you. It wasn’t right of me. But you can’t just let some petty thing get in the way of your safety, okay?”

You nodded, burying your face into his neck so you could calm your racing heart from its fall.

★ The two of you stayed there embraced in each other’s arms, not caring which guests had made it their business to stare at you.

★ You were safe. That was all that mattered. Xiao refused to think of an alternative.

DILUC

★ The Darknight Hero of Mondstadt had finally found some tracks of multiple abyss mages that he was following, after searching for so long.

★ As you knew how important this was to him, you offered to come along to act as another set of eyes. While he was checking the more obscure clues, you could watch out to see if you were walking straight into them.

★ He accepted your help, knowing that he would be there to defend you (even though he didn’t like the thought of putting you in danger in the first place) and it would help track the mages faster.

Diluc knelt on the ground, carefully looking for the elemental residue that the abyss left while you stood behind him, looking out and explaining your past experience with the group. If you did so, maybe it would give him more clues as to what exactly they were trying to do.

“When they attacked me a while back they were searching for some sort of mechanical component. I think they talked about some eye maybe? Anyways,” you continued to talk, not noticing the way your partner’s jaw clenched as he tried his hardest to search for the tracks he needed.

His hands clenched as he concentrated, attempting to zone you out of his mind.

“They were searching for it in ruin guards, so if we can get close enough to their location we can lure them in by-”

“Can you shut up for once in your life?” Diluc spat, his tone incredibly harsh, not turning around from where he was crouched down.

You were taken aback, shutting your mouth instantly. He was never like this. The man was always calm and collected, never as fiery as his vision suggested. Did he not want you to be here? Had he just let you tag along because you’d be upset otherwise? So, now you were just a nuisance in his way.

If that was what he wanted, you were in no place to deny him of that.

★ Silently leaving his side, you walked back the way you came until you reached the Dawn Winery.

★ The maids questioned why you had come back alone, asking if their master needed any help, picking up on your sad mood. You told them he was fine, he just didn’t need you, and then sat by the fireplace.

★ He couldn’t have meant it, right? You were just overanalysing his words too much. You had to be.

“I think they’re in this direction,” Diluc called out to you pointing towards a thick canopy of trees. After you’d given him some quiet, he had been able to concentrate on his elemental sight, figuring out where they went. However, when he turned around to wait for your response, he found that you weren’t there.

“Y/N?” He shouted, getting up and looking around for any sign of where you could be. When he came to the conclusion that you were gone, panic set in. The abyss mages must have gotten to you while he was too focused on their tracks.

Grabbing his claymore, he set off in the direction he had just discovered they were in, anger filling his veins. If you were injured or worse, he’d kill them all. He would slaughter every last one of them.

★ He searched all day, not stopping for breaks, until he could hardly walk anymore. The moon already shone in the sky and there was still no sight nor sign of you.

★ That was when he decided to head back home to gather up some more people for a search party. You couldn’t be gone, not just like that.

You woke from where you had fallen asleep on the couch, the fire likely kept alight by the maids, you could hear a loud commotion happening by the entrance. Standing and making your way over, to your partner shouting orders.

“I need you to,” he swallowed his pride, shaking his head to get his thoughts straight. “I need you to contact the Knights and get them to arrange a search party as soon as they possibly can. Y/N, they’re…” He couldn’t bring himself to say the words.

“Diluc?” You called from where you stood, quickly walking over to comfort your partner in his dishevelled state. “What’s wrong?” If he was getting the knights involved, it must have been pretty serious. He would usually stay as far away from them as he could.

“Y/N!” He flung himself onto you, picking you up and bringing you close to him, squeezing the life out of you. Diluc didn’t care who was watching, even when he tried to keep affection to the audience of just the two of you, needing to feel you to convince himself you were okay.

You tapped his shoulder to get him to loosen his grasp before you suffocated. “Hey, what’s wrong?” Hugging him back, you rubbed circles on his back, knowing that it usually calmed him down.

“You.” He pulled back from your embrace, cupping your face in his hands. “I thought you had been taken by the abyss mages. Why didn’t you tell me you had left? I wouldn’t have minded.” The lingering tears in his eyes made them sparkle unnaturally.

The memories of earlier appeared fresh in your mind, especially the hurt you had felt. You pouted. “Well, it didn’t seem like you wanted me there, so I left. You wanted quiet, so I didn’t say anything.”

He hung his head in shame at his own actions, holding you tightly once more. “I’m so sorry, my love. Please forgive me for my harsh words. I just wanted to find those mages, think nothing of it. Now all I wish for is for you to be safe.”

You smiled warmly, inwardly cursing yourself for making your partner so stressed. “I forgive you, and I also apologise for not informing you that I was leaving. That was a bad move on my part.”

★ Diluc abandoned his Darknight Hero duties for the night, refusing to leave your side. He’d work to make sure he never upset you in such a way ever again.

[slasherhaven]

Hello it’s me again could you please do Jesse Cromeans x single mother with a child whose deaf and the father of the child is abusive and trying to make the reader’s life horrible then Jesse crimes to the rescue lol hope it’s not too bothersome or confusing

-🖤

Warnings: abusive past relationship

Jesse Cromeans (Chromeskull) X Single Mother with a Deaf Child and Abusive Partner:

You had been working for Jesse’s organisation for a little while but he never really noticed you, since you didn’t work that close to him.

His assistant had been off sick for about a week, and you had been assigned to take over her role until she got back.

That was the first time he truly took notice of you, instantly becoming a little intrigued.

He recognised the signs soon after. The way you acted around him and others despite nobody giving you any direct reason to fear them. How you apologised too quickly, worried about messing up, how quiet you were. You were good at your job, though.

When you had first headed to his office, to introduce yourself and explain you would be his assistant for a little while, he had gone to communicate through text to speech. You were quick to assure him that you understood sign language if he preferred to use that, your hands moving along with your words as if to prove it. 

It had made him smile. 

Placing down his phone, he used his hands to ask how you knew sign language.

“My son in deaf, sir” you explained with a small smile.

A son? Jesse knew he hadn’t spotted a ring on your hand, so you mustn’t have been married.

Over the week you spend together, he quickly learnt how to act around you. How to keep his distance as to not intimidate you, how to alert you to his presence so not to scare you.

But you quickly became comfortable around him. You knew he was a dangerous man but he had never been anything but kind to you.

Eventually you wondered when his usual assistant would be returning, only for him to tell you that you would be taking on the position permanently. A part of you wanted to argue, to ask more about the woman who’s job you were taking, but the pay raise just couldn’t be overlooked. Not when you had a son to think about.

So, you took to your new role easily. You worked closely to Jesse, the two of you hitting it off with a surprising ease. Perhaps it was because you could communicate so easily? He found talking to you less bothersome? You weren’t sure, but you enjoyed his company.

Normally you would greet him with a smile, two coffees in your hand. This morning was a little different.

When Jesse got to the office, his coffee was already sitting on his desk. Still warm. He found you at your desk, hanging your head, hair forming curtains around your face, scribbling something down.

He approached your desk with purposeful footsteps. He knew that you had heard him but you didn’t look up. 

He used the text to speech to say you name. You pause for a moment before looking up at him. 

Even through the make-up you had applied, he could see the bruise that had formed along your cheek. You knew he had seen it, you saw the anger in his eyes and how his shoulders tensed.

“What happened?” he asked simply, getting no response. “Come into my office” some people found it difficult to decipher tone in sign language but you had become an expert, his body language was tense but you knew the order held some gentleness.

You followed him to his office, he closed the door behind you both before guiding you over to his desk. You sat down in one of the chairs in front of the desk, and he sat in the other, not putting the desk between the two of you.

He once again asked what happened, who had hurt you.

You had been working with him for a while now, months, and you had noticed how much safer you felt with him. You could smile and laugh without a care when you were with him, you had fallen asleep in his office once while working on some paperwork with him, and you had woken up to a blanket draped over you.

He had even met your son once. It was after work hours, he had called you asking for a file that he couldn’t find. When you realised you had accidently taken it home with you, you offered to bring it in. He hadn’t expected to see you step into the office with a young boy trailing behind you. You handed him the file and he thanked you for it before looking down at your son. He seemed a little timid, standing just behind you cautiously. 

From what Jesse had assumed, the boy didn’t have great male role models in his life and he knew he was an intimidating man anyway. You couldn’t help but smile when Jesse gave your son a small wave, which he politely returned. But when Jessed signed “what’s your name?” your son’s face lit up in a smile before telling him his name. Jesse also introduced himself. 

All of that just to say that you felt that you could trust him.

So, you told him everything. How you had broken up with your boyfriend, your son’s father, a long time ago because of how abusive he could be, you didn’t want your child to be put through that. How, for a while, the father stayed out of your life, seemingly disappearing. How he recently started calling and showing up at your door, demanding to be a part of your son’s life. How he had harshly slapped you for denying him access to your home only the night before.

You weren’t sure when you started crying, but you weren’t surprised that you had. Jesse moved out of his chair, kneeling down in front of you as you lifted your head to look at him.

“Is he still bothering you?” you nodded. “Has he called you today?” you told him that he had been blowing up your phone so you blocked the number but that wouldn’t stop him from coming to your home again. “Are you sure you’re safe at home?” he asked and you paused before giving him an unconvincing nod.

Of course you weren’t safe at home, but you didn’t want to burden Jesse, your boss, with your personal life.

But he knew you were lying, and he wasn’t about to send you back home to deal with him. 

“You can stay with me for a while” he offered as he stood up, your eyes widening as you looked up at him.

“No, I can’t do that. I’m fine really” you didn’t want to be any trouble, even if his offer was very tempting. You would be safe, your ex would never guess you were staying there.

You argued and protested some more but Jesse kept insisting, and you eventually gave in. The offer was generous.

He let you use his bathroom to wash your face and clean up in. The two of you finished work early that day and, since you usually take public transport to work, Jesse opened his car door for you.

He took you to your home, where you packed two bags. One for you and once for your son.

He then took you to pick your son up from school once the school day was finished. Your son seemed excited to see Jesse again, running up and hugging you hello before signing his greeting to the well dressed man beside you.

“We’re going to stay with Jesse for a little while” you knelt down to your son’s height, a little surprised but glad to see his bright smile.

Jesse also smiled, this being one of the few times you had called him ‘Jesse’ despite how many times he had told you to do so.

Jesse’s home is grand and modern and impressive, it managed to stun you a little. But your son was nearly jumping up and down with excitement.

“Do I get my own room?” your son signed up to you. You looked to Jesse for an answer, and he nodded.

Jesse didn’t have a kid’s room in his home but he did have some guest rooms, one of which he gave to your son. “It’s the biggest room” he had told the young boy, making his smile grow even more.

That night, your son went to bed with ease, having worn himself out, and you returned to the lounge where Jesse was sitting with a drink.

“Thank you, Jesse. You really didn’t need to do all of this, it’s very generous” you sat down beside him.

He told you that he considered you to be a friend, that he refused to sit by and let your ex harass you. He wanted to look out for you and your son, you were his assistant after all.

For a while everything was going well. You and your son were still staying with Jesse, the three of you getting along well and adjusting easily to your new living situation. 

Jesse found that he enjoyed having you both there. He was aware that he had developed some feelings for you and was fond of your son, so he really didn’t mind you staying with him. In a way, he was getting what he wanted.

Things got a little worse when you went to pick your son up from school one day, finding your ex waiting for you both. You had instantly called Jesse, waiting by the school for him to arrive so that your ex couldn’t bother you too much, it was too public.

When Jesse’s car pulled up in front of you, your ex was talking to you. Your son clinging to your hand, both of you clearly afraid.

As soon as your son saw Jesse stepping out of the car, his face lit up. He released your hand and ran over to the man, who gently guided the child to stand behind him. Jesse’s stance protective.

“Are you ready to go?” Jesse signed and you nodded, quickly walking over to him. 

Of course, your ex had never bothered to learn sign language, so he didn’t understand any of it. He was quick to start snapping at Jesse, asking who he was and to leave you all alone, to mind his business, he was just trying to talk to his son. Your ex has always been foolish and hot-headed, trying to pick a fight with a man so much larger than him.

As your ex got closer, Jesse placed a hand on his chest, pushing him back harshly. He looked over his shoulder and nodded at you, you quickly ushered your son into the car, getting in with him. Using the text to speech on his phone, Jesse threatened your ex. You couldn’t hear, you could only see that he was using the device, but he was threatening your ex to stay away from you and your son.

Your ex backed off and Jesse got into the car, driving the three of you home where you could comfort your son and he could comfort you.

It wasn’t too long after that when Jesse went on his first business trip since you started living with him. It felt strange to be living in his home without him but it had started to feel like your own home. Jesse made sure the two of you stayed in touch, talking everyday.

He returned home after about two weeks. As soon as he stepped through the door, your son had run up to him with a huge smile to greet him with a hug. The two had become close. Your heart warmed when Jesse lifted the young boy up into an embrace, flashing you a proud smile as he kicked the door shut behind him. 

So domestic, how a child should react to his father returning after two weeks away.

That night your son had asked if he could stay up late because Jesse was home, you couldn’t convince him to go to bed, but Jesse convinced him by promising to do something special on the weekend. It had you smiling again.

You and Jesse did stay up a little longer that night, talking and catching up. He asked if your ex had given you any trouble, you told him that he hadn’t. What you didn’t know was that your ex would never be bothering you again, Jesse had made sure of it.

That night you confessed that you had missed him, that your son had as well, and Jesse confessed that he had missed the two of you too.

That night was the night that Jesse finally kissed you, finally feeling that you had become comfortable enough around him, that you returned his feelings and didn’t think you owed him anything for his help. And you had returned the kiss instantly, glad that he finally made the move.

Jesse had already proven to be the best partner you had ever had, the best father figure that your son had ever had, and he seemed to want to be those things. You truly believed that the three of you could make this work, that this could be good for all three of you. 

You had fallen hard for Jesse and as he pulled you closer to him on the couch, deepening the kiss, you were sure that you had never felt this way about somebody before.

[the-trash-eating-llama]

Hello again! I have returned wiþ a new chapter, extra lengþ included due to me taking an extended break!

I don't expect to ever have a consistent schedule of upload, but rest assured, ðe next chapter is coming well on it's way.

But I've gotten ahead of myself, here is chapter 7!

Nemandi whirled around to see who was behind them, almost as fast as Gripur darted to Nemandi’s side, placing one claw on the bench that the voice stood on.

“Hello, Ofsóknarbrjálæði, what do you want?” Spoke Gripur through a gritted beak. Gripur’s tone gave away how annoyed she was immediately, which couldn’t be good.

“Please, eagle, call me Ofsóknar, and I would just like to see how the spawn of our best protector to ever live, the one who’s inventions have kept us safe for millennia, has brought a hairless monkey into Heim. Such an instance would be worth a report to Rauðer, wouldn’t you say?” Cawed the eavesdropper. Now Nemandi understood Gripur’s reaction. Nosey, small, and threatening were not a good combination.

The bird was mostly black, with white covering the stomach regions. Similar to Pelíkan, orange made up the beak and legs of the rude interloper. One of the main differences was the size, which put the bird closer to Rauðer than to Gripur, but also the equipment they carried. While Pelíkan had very little gear, save for a small pouch for berries, Ofsóknar had a bandolier of pelts wrapped around their middle, holding various sharp implements.

“If you dare to threaten me or Nemandi again, I'll shove an explosive pebble down your beak, then we’ll see who’s catching oysters, won’t we?” Loomed Gripur, easily three times the size of Ofsóknar, which would have been effective regardless of how plausible the threat was. Nemandi had seen her takedown an attacker before, they knew this was a serious threat.

After a silent count of three, where both birds stared each other down, the tiny oystercatcher lost their nerve, and ran before flying away.

“What if they tell Rauðer, Gripur, what could happen to me?” Whispered Nemandi, now nervous of what could happen if they got kicked out. Could they even survive outside? They wouldn’t have anywhere to go, their whole life was uprooted at the turn of the season, now they would surely face peril if such action were to take place-

“Nemandi, are you okay? I knew that bag of droppings would mean nothing good.”

Gripur was sitting down next to Nemandi, trying to bring them back to the present.

“Huh? Oh, uh, sorry, what could happen if they reported me?” Gasped Nemandi, trying and failing to mask their fear, they were practically shaking.

The eagle cooed at the sight of the child, so scared they looked like they might curl up and start sobbing. So, she sat down next to Nemandi, wrapped her wings around and comforted them. “You needn’t worry, Rauðer already knows of your presence, we met them in the entrance remember? It was even him who approved my visit to your home to save you. The most Ofsóknar can do is be mean and waste Rauðer’s time, and if there is anything that red bird likes more than making and using weapons, it’s using their time efficiently. I bet the next time we see Ofsóknar, he’ll be missing half his feathers.”

This helped, immensely in fact. Perhaps Nemandi missed home more than they thought, but this adventure hadn’t even begun yet, so it was time to get started.

“I’m… ah, sorry, it’s just-”

“You needn’t apologize, he’s gone now and we can stay here as long as you need.”

“I… would like to hear about that work, the stuff Rauðer mentioned?”

“Yes, probably something manageable like sorting books in the library I’d imagine, or perhaps helping Pelíkan with managing the food supplies, I wouldn’t imagine it would be too dangerous either way, you have only just arrived after all.”

“Oh, so, no more adventure?”

“Well, I would still call any visit to the library an adventure, but I wouldn’t hope you’d be protecting anything worth attacking, at least not without me there to help.” Spoke Gripur softly, letting Nemandi collapse into her feathers.

They would stay like this until Nemandi was ready.

(~~~~~~~~~)

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN FULL QUEST??!!?” Yelped Gripur, exasperatedly.

It had been a couple hours since leaving the bench. Now standing in Rauðer’s office, Nemandi had received the full description of their job. They were to be a protector, a wielder of magic and power, but first, they needed their tools. They were to enchant a quarterstaff with the power of focus, so that Nemandi could use the “power of ice” which they understood little of. The only way to enchant the staff was with the help of Gripur and a local temple keeper, outside Heim.

Nemandi’s palms began to sweat.

“You know what I mean Gripur, this is the best course of action for everyone, even if I or you don’t particularly enjoy it. Our people grow flustered knowing another human has entered Heim, and this one obviously has the spirit of ice in them. This adventure won’t happen right away, I think in 10 days should suffice, so I suggest you both get prepared.” Warned Rauðer gently.

The tiny bird had a point, Nemandi had already seen one angry town member, they didn’t want to overstep the hospitality of the people like Pelíkan. Besides, they had Gripur, how could they possibly be scared if they had someone like her to protect them?

“10 days? Only 10 days? This is because of Ofsóknar, isn’t it? That meddling twig-“

“I have made this decision of my own accord, Gripur, I can assure you. Now, leave my office, I won’t count this evening as a day, so enjoy it. Maybe you two could start by researching Children of Ice in the library.” Interjected Rauðer, his demeanor growing colder, stonier, cueing them to leave. The bird had spoken.

As they left the office, tiny white lights shone through the inky black of the sky-ceiling, all the birds that were flying around had finished their tasks and gone to their perches, nests or houses, leaving the atmosphere cold, arid and captivating.

Nemandi was the first to break the uncomfortable silence that loomed over the two.

“So, what do we do now?” Asked Nemandi, nervously.

“I suppose… we follow the advice we were given, let’s go search the library.”

And ðat is all!

Some more world building is up ahead on ðe road map, some fresh sights as well, and what was ðat about a temple? All will be revealed soon.

As for ðis reblog chain, I'm planning on just posting each future chapter instead of making ðis post forever longer. Don't forget you can look for my work under ðe "#llama writes" tab!

I will rap up ðis chapter wiþ ðe inspiration, which ðere was no shortage of!

@decoysender @blunt-force-therapy @jellyfishslurper @skyethebisexualwolfwizard @ivyclawthewolfski @thewizardmus @cephalopunk1 @sealisstupid @wanderingsins @naviofortido @moistgermany @and-this-gun-i-found @septicake @dearest-yeosang @photogenic-strawberry @faewyld @indecisitivity @river-of-corn

As for all who chance upon ðis post, and all oðers, I have been yours truly,

Llama

Hey, I've finished ðe 1st and second chapters of my new book. I'm posting ðem boþ here, as I can't find where I posted ðe first one when I first made it.

I will be tagging ðis post as "llama writes" from now on, for ease of access.

On wiþ ðe reading!

As all things go, it was quiet. The season was autumn, the usual browns and greens of dirt and moss that often blanketed the forest gave way to spectacular oranges yellows and reds. Yes. Reds.

The red of a new flower, the red of a fallen leaf, and the red of painted wood. Nestled in between the exposed roots of trees long since fallen, lay a door, red as a dying sunset, circular in nature, with a shiny brass doorknob, protruding from the bottom of this now horizontal birch tree. How quaint.

And as it were, this was not just any fallen tree, nor just any door. No, this was the house of a woman, and no ordinary woman mind you, as she was possibly the toughest woman to ever dare live, for she harbored a curse. This, is her story.

Once, a very long time ago, the woman was but a boy, who carried water in a bucket for his mother, who needed that water for her bread. The bread was not easy to bake, it could take swaths of time to make one handful, but it was always necessary to have some, for it was never eaten immediately. The bread was used to make pies that could last for weeks.

The boy never understood why his mother would spend so much effort on making bread she never ate, as it was for the boy’s sister, who would bring the meat home. After a long day of hunting, she would carry the meat back home and have her mother put them in the pies, and eat some leftover soup with bread on the side.

The boy on a bright day walked down the dirt road, into the local hunting forest, through the brush, over a small creek of stones, and plopped down on a stump of a recently fallen ash tree, and pondered. He liked pondering, he found, the time he spent on that stump was often his most favorite time awake. Certainly better than carrying heavy buckets of water, he would think to himself.

But eventually, we all tire of the questions we have going unanswered, so after spending some time out there, a kindly tree near his spot would drop a leaf on his head, to tell him to go back home, and so he would. And he would ask his tired mother about his questions on the way of it all, and he would get told he spent too much time questioning the way of things and not enough time submitting to their forces. And then he would ask his wise sister about the general way of it all, and she would simply describe how things worked and what would happen if, but the boy never did find interest in the what will, only the why.

And so, he would find himself walking along those trees the next time he awoke, slumped on his stump, stumped by the general way of things. But this is not where the story ends, merely begins.

For, you see, one day, the winds began to change.

The boy, after a long day of carrying his bucket, he asked his mother why the leaves were a new colour, and his mother, who had not seen the trees that week, looked through the small window in her work house, and right jumped out of her skin. The leaves had changed, but much sooner than she would have hoped.

The mother took a moment to calm herself, for now was the hardest day of her year, autumn. Now, to most, autumn is but sweaters and scarves, but to her home, it was death.

The mother told her boy to get some rest, and take an extra blanket with him, for it would be a long night. The boy had little concept of night, but knew it was the part you slept through. So off he went to bed, wrapped in not only his sleep clothes and soft white fur blanket, but also in a new musk ox blanket handwoven by his sister to keep even the bitterest of frost out.

The boy slept well, but when he awoke, did not find a usual sight. Unlike the often bright window sill he was used to, spilling light all over the interior of his small room, it was dark, as if someone had draped blankets over his window, like his sister would do if the wind started to pick up and throw rocks at their house. The boy never did like those nights.

So the boy thought to himself that perhaps the time he was asleep was long enough to see, or rather miss, the beginning and end of a nasty storm. Reasonable as this conclusion was, when the boy reached out to remove the blanket, he only felt glass, as there was no blanket, and there was no storm.

For the boy had long since understood day, it was time for him to understand night.

With a sudden creak from nearby, the boy was awake, but had yet to see, for the room was blanketed in darkness.

“Hello?” He asked to no one in particular, and much to his chagrin, they answered.

“Greetings fine fellow, how may the night find you?” They boy gasped and tried to sit upright in his covers, but unfortunately could barely even squirm.

“Who are you, and what’s going on!?” Wherever the boy thought the voice could have come from, he certainly did not expect a quite large eagle.

“I am your friend, and you are being attacked.” Spoke the eagle, which was very impressive for such a bird.

“Why can’t I move!?” Cried the boy, trying his best to kick, punch, sit up, or much of anything.

“Now you’re supposed to introduce yourself to me, but I suppose that will have to wait for other circumstances.” Announced the eagle, which then jumped on the bed and turned away from the boy, stopping the boy from seeing what little he could of his room.

“Please, help me!” The boy wailed, but the bird hushed him with what can only be described as a ksssssst before a second entity emerged into the room, this time from the closet instead of the shadows.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t the fowl.” Grumbled a voice most grumpily.

“Fyrirboði, how did I guess.” The eagle retorted, it was clear to the boy these two had a history, and he was in the middle of it.

“I wouldn’t doubt your tracking skills for a second, although I can tell you lack a partner still.” The grumpy grumbler grumbled, grumbly.

“My private life is no longer of your concern, and your presence here proves your assertion false.” The eagle defended, which puzzled the boy even more, who were these two, and why were they having such an argument in his bedroom?

“Of course, I simply wished to hear it from you, as you never do own up to your own words.” Fyrirboði stated, a statement that implied a long history indeed.

“Now leave Fyrirboði, I have no need to see you ever again.” Croaked the eagle, clearly on the edge of their limit.

“And that is where you are wrong, but I will heed your request, I always do.” And with a sudden decline of tension in the room, Fyrirboði was gone.

“Can I speak now?” The boy asked the bird, who now faced the boy with tears in their eyes.

“Yes you may, but please stay seated.” And as if the boy’s body thawed from ice instantly, he could move once again.

“What was all that, and what is going on!?” The child once again asked of the eagle.

“My name is Gripur, and I can be trusted, now as you can see, you are no longer safe here, and we must move.” Cawed the bird, answering absolutely zero of what the boy just asked.

“Oh, and before I forget,” continued Gripur. “What is it I shall call you?”

“Nemandi, and I need to tell mother about this.” Replied the boy, dazed and confused from the current situation.

“Well, Nemandi, you are the only one currently in this house, so I suggest we leave it before you disappear too.” Gripur described, leaving Nemandi with not only a degree of emotional whiplash, but also a full bucket of worry. At this rate, Nemandi might need a second bucket, or at least two trips.

“Outside, I can do that.” Nemandi agreed, finally.

“Good.” Replied Gripur. “Because we face more than old rivals tonight.”

So, how did you like it? I just finished it, so any criticism I can get would be helpful.

@decoysender @tangerineflavouredduck @mag150cul-de-sac @cannibalcanid @bigmeatpete69420 @illululusion @lovelythenabeana

Ðank you guys for inspiration!

And I will see you soon wiþ my next chapter.

[nemeseos-noctua]

God I love your work so much?? You guys are amazing .

Can I request how Albedo, Xiao and Diluc react to their s/o pushing them away in attempt to keep them safe from danger? (Eg they may be the traveller who is connected with the fatui and the abyss aand therefore fears for their s/o's safety.

Tysm!! I love your guys' writing style. requesting this specifically bc it's not fair Xiao gets to be to edgy one all the time in the fics🙄 how does it feel to get pushes away now loverboy? (/j!! I love him just thought this prompt would be a neat inversion).

𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: albedo, xiao, diluc (separate) x gn!reader

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: not proofread, blood, mentions albedos story (spoilers), xiao story spoilers, reader is not traveler

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: hehe tysm!! ALSO 100% haha i LOVEEE xiao but yk he be a lil stingy when it comes to safety! i want to tuck him in and tell him it’ll be alright 😔😔

during your travels across teyvat, you have encountered far more fatui and abyss mages than you’d care to count

and some of which— had some, err, not so kind grudges against you

these grudges were so serious that you began to worry for albedo’s safety. you personally did not care for blood staining your hands nor soul—but if that blood was albedo’s... oh boy

so, coming to a conclusion... you decided on the inevitable: keep albedo at arm’s length—for your heart and his

and, it worked. for a month, it worked. your visits to his camp in dragonspine lessened, your chaste kisses and morning voice left his life like... regrettably, his master

Staring up at the whirling winds of Dragonspine, Albedo’s teal eyes trailed over the ice, wishing to see a familiar silhouette among its blizzard.

He had been counting. It has been five days, two minutes, and 54 seconds since you last visited him—

Hah, just kidding. He didn’t count—but it has been five days.

Where were you? Maybe you were busy—the alchemist knew you had a life outside of—well, him. 

It was unfair of him to be impatient, for you had been nothing short of patient towards him. But still, his heart longs and yearns for your touches, his head feels cold without your fingers twisting through his silky blonde hair. 

Dragonspine was cold, but without you, it was colder.

he’d eventually head back down to mondstadt, solely for the purpose of finding you

his mind got the best of him as he spiraled into a brief insanity. maybe he did something to make you mad? maybe you were injured, recovering without his aid? so many questions spinning around his head he almost missed the sight of your [e/c] eyes

“[Y/N]—“ Albedo’s voice cut through the crowds of Mondstadt as the alchemist rushed forward. Adrenaline pumped through his veins, desperation taking over him as he reached a hand out for you.

“Albedo...?” You stopped in your tracks, taking in the sight of your boyfriend’s unruly hair and tired eyes. His lips were still purple—as if he had come back down from Dragonspine recently.

“Where were you?” The alchemist asked, his gloved hand wrapped around your wrist delicately, his eyes scanning all over you as to check whether you were injured or not.

“Ah... I was—adventuring,” You sweatdropped, the coldness of his gloves stinging your wrist, your eyes wide at how cold he was.

he doesn’t believe you—hah. of course he doesn’t, albedo is a genius in fields he wishes to study

he knows you too well to fall for your mindless responses or excuses, he knows your eyes too well to succumb to the smile on your lips or kindness in your touch

he knows, he knows he knows he knows—so why? what are you hiding? why are you hiding? from him of all people?

everyone has secrets—albedo is aware, for he has his own share. but please, can’t you spare his heart? just this once?

“Tell me the truth, [Y/N],” Albedo asked—no, begged. He wanted to know what kept you so far from his reach, what stopped you from visiting him or loving him or just being with him. Was he the problem? Was this the end of your love?

“I...” You looked away, tugging the alchemist against the current of the crowds, seeking an area for just the two of you.

And once you found it, you pulled the blonde into a hug. The coldness of his coat didn’t faze you, nor did the way his eyes widened or the way his arms hesitantly wrapped back around you.

“I don’t want someone like you to get involved with me, Albedo. You’re...” You looked away, your face still buried into the alchemist’s shoulder. 

“... A weakness. You’re a weakness that’ll be used against me.”

albedo is in utter disbelief

he—you—what?!

he’s... your weakness?

albedo doesn’t know whether to be flattered or hurt. he knows you have a dangerous job, he knows about the amount of letters you receive threatening him or you, he knows what you’re doing is for the better...

but—he cannot allow it. he wants to hold you without regrets, he wants to kiss you and eat lunch with you at good hunter...

“[Y/N],” Albedo breathed, cupping your cheeks in the palm of his hands as he stared violently into your eyes. Gaze softening, he couldn’t bring it in himself to scold you for all the worries you brought him to.

“I promise you—that even if Fatui and Abyss Mages disrupt my alchemy, I promise that I want to get involved with you—I, I want to be with you.”

His heart, it wants so much, it wants to have you, it wants to love you.

So please—won’t you let him do that? 

xiao also has many people out for his throat

well, i suppose... the difference between those ‘people’ and your ‘people’ is the fact that xiao’s debts are owed to the dead

the whispers, the screams, the agony. it plagues every part of his mind, like a melody with no beat, like an endless tune that he will hear for the rest of time

and you—you’re like, the charm. the ward and sigil that scares away all of those demons. you’re the sunshine that seeps through the cracks of caves

and now... you’re drifting. like a ship at sea, he wonders... will you be back?

regrettably—you think—maybe, maybe... you won’t return

What is this? The third week Xiao has sat atop the roof of Wangshu Inn? Hoping mindlessly to hear your steps up the staircase?

Hah. Is this who he has become? An adeptus who waits for a mortal like you to come, an adeptus who should be defending Liyue, and yet, here he is.

he’s a bit... put off

like. who are you to make him feel this way, mortal? (derogatory) 

he doesn’t want to admit it... but... he misses you. there! he said it. he misses you. now can you come back, please?

he knows, he knows he is not the best lover... that he is blunt, enigmatic, and sometimes... rude. but— but you, you accept him for that

and he ponders atop the roof of wangshu inn—perhaps, was this ignoring scheme long overdue? have you finally grown tired of him and all of his karma? have you found someone better—someone you can love you, hold you, and care for you like you deserve?

he hopes—the answer is no

but he knows... the answer is probably yes

“Oh, [Y/N]! You’re back!” Verr Goldet’s hushed voice ran through the adeptus mind as his form shot up almost instantly. Staring down from his position on the roof, his yellow eyes stared over at your familiar form, your [e/c] eyes and vision that dangled from your hip.

“Haha, sorry about that.” 

You smiled, but Xiao didn’t miss the way you winced upon doing so. Your arms and legs were wrapped with bandages, dried splotches of red and clothing as messy as could be.

“Your room is upstairs, sleep well,” Verr Goldet nodded knowingly, a bittersweet grin on her face as her mind flickered to the thought of Xiao and his shortening temper.

once you step out onto the balcony, you do not need to look to see who has appeared beside you

“Hello, Xiao!” You say openly, arms outstretched for a hug as the adeptus merely stared at you. Three weeks. Three weeks without you, three weeks too many—and here you were, opening your arms like you had just returned back from an hour long trip.

“ . . . “ Staying silent, Xiao could only cross his arms, glaring at you with mixed emotions. He was relieved to see you back and ‘happy’, but still, he was frustrated and irritated at the way you behaved so recklessly.

“You owe me an expla—“

“—nation,” You finished for the male, an exasperated smile gracing your features as you turned over to the balcony, the setting moon and proud stars soaring like the birds of Mondstadt.

“I was... dealing with some encounters,” Your tone was laced with a malice even he wasn’t expecting, the number of bandages scouring your skin finally making sense as his eyes narrowed into slits.

“Fatui? Tell me where they are, I wi—“

“No.”

Turning over to him fully, Xiao’s breath hitched. Ugh, again—you and your pretty smile and charming features. The simplest things you do made him go insane like the karmic debts that flourished through his mind.

“You can’t get involved, Xiao. They will only go after you. I returned here today to tell you that I’ll be going off for three month—“

“What?” The Yaksha breathed in disbelief. Did he hear right? Were you seriously leaving again?! 

“I said, I am leaving again... Xiao. It’s not you—Celestia no... it’d never be you. It’s just...” You looked around, to anywhere, anyone but him. If you glanced at him now, chances are you’d succumb to his sunny eyes and stay back at Wangshu Inn. 

“... The Fatui. I got on their wanted list and—I don’t want them to use you against me. So I’ll go out and get rid of them, and I’ll be ba—“

“No.”

It was his turn to decline, for he didn’t want to hear anything you had to say. You got on the Fatui’s wanted list?! What?! He...

He was going to kill them. 

“Do you think I am weak, [Y/N]? Eons of slaughter and—“ 

“Xiao!” You facepalmed, raising your voice slightly at the male as he blinked, taken aback that you, a mortal would ever thing of committing such a heinous crime towards a divine being like him.

“You’re not weak! It’s just... I’m weak. And if they find you, they could just threaten me with everything they’d do to you! Even if nothing happened at all...” Your voice died down, your heart hammering against your chest as Xiao’s eyes softened.

Xiao was—speechless. He didn’t know what to say, what to do. Nobody had ever thought of him so kindly before, neither have they ever treated him as something other than a weapon of war.

So, he vowed. Like the night Rex Lapis found him all those millennia ago, like the night he broke free from the chains of manipulation—he vowed, time and time again—

“I will protect you, [Y/N]. For there is no need to protect me.”

[internal screaming]

diluc, of all people, no longer is afraid of ‘grudges’ or ‘debts’ owed to the fatui or abyss order. he dances with evil, masquerading each night for his life

and now, the only light in his world full of darkness, the only fire in the cold icy winds...

left

you left. you left with a little note saying you’d be back in what—five months?

a part of him was... shocked. it was surprised at how abrupt it was. one moment, the two of you were laying in bed, cradling each others’ forms. and the next? you were gone

the other part of him was... worried. did you want to leave him? what was this about? did you owe debt to the fatui? you could’ve told him, he would’ve payed for it all in a heartbeat

but diluc of mondstadt—hah, he was not known for stepping down so easily. so until he figures out why you left so suddenly, he is not stopping his search for the truth

and once he so happens to run into lumine and asks the traveler where you’ve been—he’s shocked

at first, he thinks lumine must me mistaken. what? what do you mean “[y/n] is heading out to fight the abyss herald”, you’re kidding... haha...

(lumine swore she saw her life flash before her eyes when diluc wrapped his head around the news)

diluc feels a bit... guilty. he feels guilty that he didn’t know sooner, he feels guilty that the abyss order is bothering you like how it bothers him, he feels guilty for everything

Wiping some blood that spilled from the corner of your mouth, you grimaced at the metallic taste. 

What was it? Err... day five? This was the first Abyss Herald you have encountered so far, and you could only assume it was the first of many.

Standing up, you sheathed your weapon. Your vision glowed brightly in the darkness of the ruins, the moon illuminating the way out as you sighed, pulling yourself across the stone cold floor.

As you trudged outside and into the moonlight, a twig cracked under a foot that wasn’t yours, prompting you to reach out and materialize your weapon, charging it with power from your vision.

“Who?”

Stepping out from the trees, your eyes widened at a sight you hadn’t expected to see—at least, expected to see this soon.

“Diluc?” You breathed, heaving a sigh of relief as the male took no notice to your words, instead, his vermilion eyes traced over your battered form, his eyes worrying even more with each glance he spared.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked, rushing up to you as he pulled out some bandages, wrapping them around your wounds so he could get you back to the winery.

pushing yourself away from his grasp, diluc watched in hurt as you kept him away from your figure

“i couldn’t—i didn’t want you to get involved,” you mumbled guiltily, looking away from the male as his eyes seemed to berate you silently

“me involved? what do you mean?” diluc asks in disbelief. he of all people should be the one telling you that

“the abyss. i got in a tumble with them and now they’re after my blood,” you murmured, only causing diluc’s heart to pound even louder in his chest, his brain flickering to unpleasant memories as he rushed up to you, securely placing his hands on your shoulders

He’s... speechless. He doesn’t know what to say, what to do. He’s usually the one keeping people at arms-length—yet here you were, stealing his lines and his worries.

“I...” Diluc paused, trying to form words, and yet, nothing came to mind.

“...”

Silence. It filled the ambience and your hearts, yet, it was not the same silence in the abyss, nor was it the same silence before a nightmare.

It was a silence of awe, a silence that you’d hear before a firework would shoot up in the sky—it was calming, a relaxing wave like a seashell pressed against your ear.

A silent love—like the one you and Diluc shared. An unsung melody that played in the beat of your hearts, the breaths of the wind...

A silent promise, like a marriage or a confession, a promise to—

“I will be by your side, [Y/N]. No matter what.”

Through thick and thin, cold and warm, there is nothing but you two, two lovers against the darkness, dancing with ghosts and evil.

— constellations! 💫

[thebadboyfanclub]

It’s Alright Darling (Sherlock x Reader)

Ok... Was this requested? No. Am I writing it cause anything Henry Cavill related makes me feel happy? Yes. Enjoy!

Being Sherlock Holmes assistant was something a lot of people would kill for and that makes it even better if you think about the irony of it. However, since Sherlock wasn’t a normal person to mostly everything he did, he had decided to hire a woman as his assistant, Mycroft called him mad and unhinged almost every time he brought up her name. (Y/n) was one of the most intelligent people he had ever been around, combining that with a charming personality was the recipe to success.

“Well, well, well I see my brother is full of surprises”

“Hello there Mycroft is so nice to see you again as well”

She spoke in an clearly ironic tone as she took of her gloves, she was never a fan of hats other than the occasions she knew she would be under the sun for hours. As she walked in the living room area for what seemed like their childhood home, Sherlock had requested for (y/n) to arrive a day later than the brothers, knowing that her and his older brother were like oil and water he chose to “prepare the grounds” first.

“Where is the young little Holmes?”

“Inside, talking with miss Harrison”

“Alright... who is miss Harrison?”

“Miss Harrison is an excellent teacher and a friend of mine, come to think of it maybe you should go in and ask her to take you as well... you might be a bit old but I’m sure she can make an exception”

Mycroft found (y/n) intolerant, she was dismissive, unladylike, mouthy and a feminist, he still does not understand what asset do she brought to his younger brother. She only smiled while sitting at one of the chairs

“I will let you know I was an excellent student in all my academic achievements, although I suppose you were one as well that doesn’t really prove someone’s intelligence or manners, right mister Holmes?”

Sherlock let a laugh be heard at (y/n)’s quick response, even though he would never take sides and sometimes wanted them to get along, he had accepted that it would never happen and simply enjoyed the situation.

“Amused brother? Of course you are as mad as her since you didn’t only hire her, you kept her around and brought her in my home”

“Now Now mister Holmes, what type of gentleman would you be if you threaten to through out not just a lady but your younger brothers guest, unfortunately you are just further proving my point about our little quarrel”

Before he had the chance to respond a young girl walked in, wearing a white undergarment dress and looking disheveled. The girl who (y/n) could only assume was the infamous Enola didn’t even notice her being in this room.

“No, don’t do this to me. Let me remain happy, I am happy here”

“You are a young woman now Enola, you need an education”

“Test me, on anything you think I need to know in order to be sufficient for this world”

“If she taught you so well, you wouldn’t be standing in your undergarment in front of me”

Silence fell in the room for a quick second. His disgusting answer to his own sister made (Y/n) get on her feet, Enola quickly let her gaze fall on the young woman that was now in her house.

“Why is that a problem Mister Holmes? Undergarments are scandalous for the men when a woman they are interested in wears them, she is your underaged sister”

“This is a family matter, it does not- I repeat- does not concern you”

“Of course it does not concern me, but it does concern me when a young girl is being held accountable for walking in her home, to her brothers, completely covered and still being shamed for it”

Enola understood by that quick argument the lady was not here because of Mycroft, so it only meant she was Sherlocks company, she is not his wife since if not invited he would have at least informed their mother, so perhaps a girlfriend?

“Enola you have no hopes of making a husband out of your state, neither do you... miss (y/l/n)”

“I don’t want a husband”

Enola claimed, raising her voice at the ridiculous claim her brother made. Even though they haven’t been properly introduced they had developed a mutually liking for each other, at a brief look they seemed to have the same outlook on life.

“And that is another thing you need to have educated out of you”

At that Enola turned to look at her other brother, Sherlock, who had remained radio silent throughout this entire conversation. Enola kneeled in front of him, as Sherlock looked at her and then broke eye contact to look down at the book he was holding.

“Sherlock, Don’t let him do this to me”

“You are his ward”

“Make me yours. Guide me. Teach me. For him I am nuisance. For you-”

“Enola. I’m sorry, but it’s out of my hands”

“Just like his cruelty to our mother was out of your hands”

Cruelty to their mother? No, Sherlock would have never allowed his mother to go through anything, he is a man of honor... isn’t he? (Y/n) felt her stomach tighten as she saw this tragic scene unravel, she hoped Sherlock would have accepted and took her in.

“She is not dangerous. She is remarkable and always has been. And if you still can’t see that then shame on you both”

“So remarkable she left you in my care”

Mycroft shot back. (Y/n) could almost feel the pain the young girl felt, you could see it in her eyes how that was an arrow straight in her heart. (Y/n) decided to step up and try to help, she approached the young girl with a kind smile and placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Come on, let’s get you out of here to calm down. Seems like your brothers don’t share the same love and admiration you do for the woman that made them who they are”

“I am a self made successful man”

“but you wouldn’t be no man if the woman you frown upon had not broken her hips and went through hours of painful labor. Take that as some food for thought before you school me on my manners”

Sherlock looked at her in awe, as she stood proudly next to his sister and became the shield he should have been. Standing up for a girl you haven’t even spoken to or knew before this.

“Let’s go young Enola, seems like a woman’s presence is wanted here only when she does as she is told”

-

“Come in”

“Can I open this door and be promised that I will remain safe or are you holding a dagger and you are ready to take me out of this world?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, dagger you in your own household? I would probably wait to poison you a few days after we leave and write the paperwork of you firing me”

He smiled at her plan as he closed the door in her room. It was already nightfall and the only light here were a few candles, he had let her take a breather after the unfortunate event that had occurred previously. Even though he wasn’t the one that she went toe to toe with, his silence was as obnoxious to her as his brothers loud ignorance towards the female gender.

“You are upset”

“Of course not, why would I be? It’s not like you let that man embarrass his own sibling and talk down to his mother without her being in the room”

She had remained sited in the chair next to the table, a book open that seemed like she was writing on rather than reading it. He was aware she was holding a journal, he didn’t blame her for it, having a job like she did she was in desperate need of something to keep her sane.

“This is a very wary subject”

“I am aware of it, I just can’t seem to understand why not comfort her, try to change your brothers opinion, anything that will show you care for her, you do care for her, right Sherlock?”

“She is my baby sister (y/n), that’s a given”

She closed her book. She ran her hand through her  through her hair and got up from her sit, her hands going in front of her torso at a defensive demeanor, even when Sherlock should be cold or show his higher position to her, he couldn’t help but seek some type of truce with her, how could he not? She looked so beautiful even when she mad at him, the eyes he was so caught up in looked at him with fury, her delicate feature went harsh and she was dressed more... lightly now.

“I spoke with her earlier, she was in the garden”

“I know, I saw.”

“She asked me about you, asked me if you were my lady”

Her eyes went wide for a split second before regaining her composer and turned her back to him. She approached the window before she spoke.

“If you think of how she became familiar with me, she was probably certain I wasn’t even friends with your holier than God brother”

“You mustn't be angry at me”

“And why is that?”

“Because other than my sister and mother, I care for you and for your opinion about me”

She remained silent. Not only because she was caught off guard by his comment, she also didn’t know what he was talking about. Sherlock stepped closer to her, his steps making her heart flutter and her palms sweaty. He stopped when he was right behind her, he wanted to hug her, caress her, kiss her, still he was uncertain of how she would react.

“I still remember the night you got kidnapped”

Someone that Sherlock had helped uncover had escaped prison and kidnapped her. Luckily, she was retrieved safely yet again she was still shaken up by the scary experience, when Sherlock found her awake next to the fireplace she was so vulnerable and grateful to be alive she launched at him and kissed him passionately.

He shared his bed with her, in the middle of the night though she had gotten up and left, when morning came she acted like nothing had happened, barely even looked at him in the eyes for a week.

“Please Sherlock don’t pick at my brain”

“Why did you leave that night? Did you regret it that much”

“That night... was the most blissful I have ever been.... However you are still my boss Sherlock”

“That’s all I am to you? Your boss?”

(Y/n) turned to look at him, tears welling up in her eyes. Those eyes would be the death of him, it was with no doubt the window to her soul, that pure gentle soul of hers.

“What am I to you then Sherlock? This wasn’t just about me”

“You are.... what I never knew I needed”

His hands went up to her forearms instinctively, a soft caress that made her think his hands were made out of the finest silk, she felt goosebumps as he touched her. Her lips parted slightly as she took in a heavy breath, her eyes searching for a hint of a lie in his words.

“Sherlock”

“Shhhhh, It’s alright darling. You don’t have to say anything”

At that he slowly leaned in, his lips on top of hers at a shy and gentle kiss. Her hand went to his neck, bringing her torso to touch his as the kiss deepened, her entire body felt a rush go through it as they should the passion they held for each other with this kiss. As she pulled back her fingertips traveled to his face, taking in his attractive features

“I had almost forgotten how good of a kisser you are”

“Oh love, you will never forget it ever again”

[erule]

The frat party | t.h.

Title: The frat party

Pairing: Frat boy!Tom Holland x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1823

Warnings: frat boy Tom, angst, nakedness (nothing sexual though, no smut in this chapter), mention of sex, implied smut, cliffhanger at the end, jealous Tom, language, OC Oliver, violence (one punch), blood, plot twists.

Summary: Tom and the reader met at a frat party, but a year later they broke up because of some reason. Now, rumor has it that the reader is dating one of Tom’s friends and he gets jealous.

A/N: Hello hello, I’m back! Have you seen Tom’s recent pics in Monaco?? He looked amazing! Anyway, I don’t know why, but I just had to write a fic with frat boy!Tom, so enjoy!

If you wanna be tagged in my Tom Holland fics, just let me know in my ask box! You can also find me on AO3 and Wattpad. Feedback is always appreciated by a writer!

Main Masterlist

Tom Holland Masterlist

Peter Parker Masterlist

Chapter 1

Break up with my ex girlfriend

Frat parties. Am I right? Worst part of college life. A lot of people drink to forget about their grades and how their lives went wrong, while someone’s just hoping to have some fun with them (if you know what I mean). For the first year, I hated them with passion, but it was before I met him. At a frat party. Oh, the irony! And then, frat parties were the only chance I had to actually talk to him. It didn’t take us long enough to start dating. I think that adults tell you fairy tales to make you grow up with a hope, the hope to find your real happy ending, your true love. Well, I wasn’t used to believe in them, but the year I spent with Tom… that was close to the definition of happy ending. The problem with happy endings? They don’t tell you what happens after them. And that’s because they’re a nightmare.

“Tell me that now or you’re not gonna find me in this bed tomorrow”, he says and there’s a part of me that wants to die right here and right now. I shake my head. I don’t want to do that. Not because I don’t feel anything for him, but I’m scared that this will complicate things between us and it’s the last thing I want. “Are you serious, Y/N? You really think that saying something like that during sex doesn’t count? Calling someone on the phone means something, even if you’re drunk as Hell. So tell me what you really feel about me right now or I swear, I’m out of this room. I’m out of this kind of weird relationship that’s going on between us for years,” Tom says and the veins on his arms draw a beautiful map on his body, in which the moles are cities and his eyes are volcanoes. They’re burning, unlike my skin, that is freezing because I’m not wearing anything at the moment. Except for my shame, perhaps. My insecurities, that never leave me. Even in front of Tom.

“You don’t mean that,” I try to say, my mouth dry. But he’s insanely angry. In another situation, it would be hot.

“I do, Y/N,” he replies. I swallow. His expression softens, like he’s in pain. He comes closer to me, brushing my cheeks with his hands. My eyes are full of tears. His words feel like a prayer on my skin. “Please, tell me”.

And even if I don’t wanna do that, my hands are tied. Even if that’s a lie. I remain in silence. One second after that, he’s gone. Tom always keeps his promises, after all.

2 months before

Harrison sat down with a strange look on his face. It only meant one thing for Tom: trouble. He sighed, throwing away the third cigarette of the day. Jacob raised an eyebrow, trying to get rid of the stench of smoke with one hand.

“I thought you wanted to quit smoking,” Jacob said.

“Relax, I only smoke before finals now,” Tom said. “What’s up, mate? Come on, talk”.

Harrison raised a corner of his lips in a smirk.

“Rumor has it, that Oliver’s got a girlfriend,” he said.

“No way!” Jacob exclaimed.

“Oh, fuck me,” Tom said, laying on the grass with his hands behind his neck, glancing at a couple of girls who were passing by.

“I haven’t said the best part yet, though,” Harrison continued. Jacob urged him to speak further. “He’s gonna throw a party for his birthday and he’ll introduce her to his friends. But since we’re his friends, I was wondering why I haven’t told us anything about this gal in weeks. So I played Sherlock Holmes for a couple of hours and I found out that… we actually know this girl,” he said.

“I bet she’s someone of the campus,” Tom joked, as if it was obvious.

“I bet she’s someone’s ex girlfriend,” Jacob replied.

Harrison remained quiet, but he was smiling.

“You gotta be kidding me,” Tom said, astonished, while sitting on the grass again.

“I won!” Jacob yelled.

“Who’s she? I hooked up with…”

“Ex girlfriend, Tom. It’s not some random girl you hooked up with. She’s someone you remember very well,” Harrison said.

“So we’re talking about me, uh? Well, let’s see… is it Janine? We lasted two weeks, I wouldn’t be mad about her,” he shrugged. Harrison swallowed.

“It’s someone you would be mad about,” Jacob guessed. “And there’s just one person that you would be mad about”.

Tom’s eyes widened at the realization.

“He’s fucking dead”.

Two days after that conversation, here they were: the three of them were laying with their backs on the wall like they were sustaining it from falling down. Tom had threatened Oliver with a Dare to explain, mate?, but his answer was just an I’m sorry Tom, but she’s just your ex. I don’t have to ask for your permission. Or does this mean that you’re still not over her? So, since Tom values too much his pride, he said that he was over her and that Oliver was right, he didn’t have to ask for his permission. Oliver apologized for not telling him that before and then walked away, leaving Tom to smoke the whole pack of cigarettes. Tom was watching Oliver talking with Elizabeth, one of your friends, when he saw you and Zendaya arrive at the party. In his opinion, you were stunning. You immediately caught his gaze. You just never failed to amaze him, even after a year. His heart ached at the view, but it ached even more when you greeted Oliver. You gave him a kiss on his cheek, clenching your hand in a fist. It seemed like you were uncomfortable. So, he came up with a plan to save you.

“Wait for me here,” he said to his friends, then he walked fast to reach you. “Hey mate, happy birthday!” Tom said to Oliver, who hugged him.

“Thanks, Tom. I think that you already know Y/N, Lizzie and Z,” he said and you smiled along with your friends, even if you looked more surprised than happy.

“Of course, I do,” Tom said, looking directly at you. You looked down. “Could I please talk to Y/N? We haven’t been in touch for quite some time and I’d like to catch up with her,” he asked.

“Sure!” Oliver said, while Zendaya seemed looking at you with a concerned expression. You winked at her.

Tom made you move away from Oliver by brushing your back, walking to the next exit. He lowered his voice in order to talk with you only, speaking to your hear: “You look ravishing, darling”.

He noticed that you closed your eyes for a very long second, but you didn’t say a word about that.

“Are you here to show that you still own me or something?”

“I don’t own you, darling. You’re absolutely free to do anything you like,” he said, lighting a cigarette outside the building.

“Z said you wanted to quit smoking,” you said, furrowing your eyebrows.

“I only smoke before finals”.

“Finals were yesterday,” you replied.

“Are we here to talk about me or you? I noticed that you were uncomfortable with Oliver, but I thought that you were his girlfriend. Wouldn’t it be weird?”

You smirked.

“Oh, now I get it. You’re jealous”.

“Nah, If I’d be jealous, you would know, trust me,” Tom said, with a playful tone.

“What would you do?” You asked, curiousity eating you alive. You wanted to know so bad if he still had feelings for you.

“Don’t play with fire, darling. You’re gonna burn your pretty hands, otherwise,” he replied, running a finger over his lip. Shivers ran through your spine, but you hoped that Tom didn’t notice it.

“Don’t try to seduce me, Holland. You’re not gonna win this time,” you said, chuckling. “And for the record, we’re not dating. He’s just insistent,” you explained.

Tom looked inside and saw Oliver staring at the two of you. An idea came up into his mind and he couldn’t quite get rid of it. It was smart, but also terrifying. It was very dangerous, yet he had to try.

“We could be in a fake relationship. It could fool everyone,” he proposed.

You turned to look at him, astonished.

“Even after what happened?”

Tom’s eyes were locked with yours, but his facial muscles didn’t move at all. If he still was hurt by the reason that made you two break up, he didn’t show it to you.

“He’s coming here,” he said instead, glancing at Oliver.

“Tom, this is insane,” you kept going. “You said you couldn’t forgive me after…”

It happened all too fast. All the lights went out at the same time. Tom's lips were on yours in an instant. Everything was on fire, every inch of your body. Every cell your flash was made of exploded like a dying supernova. A moment later, someone snatched him from your hands, leaving you in the cold.

Oliver hit him. Tom laughed, nervously, but then he grabbed the collar of Oliver’s shirt and slammed him against the wall, angrily. You pounced on Tom, trying to pull him away from Oliver. At first, Tom looked at you confused, thinking that you just wanted to keep Oliver safe from him, but your eyes told him another story: you prevented him to be kicked out from the campus.

“I told you, you’d know,” he said, while wiping a trickle of blood from his mouth, pretending to be the tough guy he wasn’t.

“Guys, I think we should leave,” Jacob said, while Harrison was taking Tom away from Oliver by his arm.

“I thought we were friends, Tom,” Oliver said, an inch of hurting in his voice tone.

“That was before you came after the only thing I care about,” he said harshly. And then, he left with Harrison and Jacob.

That night, while Tom was cleaning himself of blood in the bathroom, Jacob was staring at him worried, while standing with one arm against the door jamb.

“You never told me what happened, you know, with Y/N last year. Haz doesn’t want to tell me, he thinks it’s up to you. You said that you were over her, but I don’t think you are, since what you did tonight,” he said. Tom kept wiping away the blood from his shirt, ignoring Jacob’s words. “Why have you broken up with her, Tom? It seems pretty obvious that you’re still in love with her”.

Tom gulped, while looking at himself in the mirror. He had tried to bury all of his memories deep down, but it seemed that now the demons wanted to come back and play with him once again. Maybe it had finally come the time to confront them.

When he spoke, his voice was low and hoarse: “Because she cheated on me”.

Read chapter 2 here!

[oonajaeadira]

Long Fall Into Oblivion (Ezra x reader)

(header by sirtadcooper - check out the whole beautiful set here.)

Rating: Mature. 

Pairing: Ezra (post-Prospect film) x f!reader

Warnings: Non-explicit sex. Some swears maybe (think there’s a f*ck in there somewhere, my GOODNESS). A lot of gooey, syrupy, soft fluffety fluff. Author attempts at writing Ezra dialogue. A lot of chewy prose.

A/N: I can’t believe I’m posting this, but here goes. I love Ezra. He is a man of questionable morality and an insufferable tongue and I really shouldn’t. But I really do. I just wanted to give him a try. I’ve softened him up here, putting a few years on him so maybe he’s fluffed up some since the events in the film. Also I just ignored the fade or assumed that aurelac mining was still happening because scarcity/demand. Doesn’t matter. Just wanted to go exploring.

Summary: You take a job as an aurelac prospecting trainee and Ezra shows you the ropes. You’re gonna fall in love with him. That’s it. That’s the whole thing.

TAGLIST: you can always request to be on the taglist for this or any of my work. If you’d like to be on taglists for upcoming fic, please sign up here –> TAGLIST

MASTERLIST

________________

Bakhroma is one of the smallest gas giants in the sector, but as you stand on the surface of the Green Moon, it dominates the entire horizon, pulling your focus, threatening to engulf everything around it. You almost feel sorry for the lush moon as you walk through its undergrowth, so gentle and full of beauty, destined many years after you’re gone to give its life to her.

A moon is an orbiting admirer, and what is an orbit but a long fall to oblivion?

There’s a painful, sour ache in your heart as you walk back to the camp in twilight, watching the back of Ezra’s helmet bob along in front of you. You’d spent two days digging that claim only to find the weakest aurelac nest you’ve seen yet, only three viable nodes. You’d dug through one of them by accident and completely melted another like an incompetent fool. Kevva’s ass, you were such a disappointment. Three months in the Green and you still can’t cut a blister out properly. Not even once.

Ezra’s shoulders are wide and tense, his one hand splayed out as he walks, running over the tops of the tall ferns, catching one every now and then only to rip the top away, twirl it between his gloved fingers and toss it impatiently aside.

The other two members of your team headed out on a sling this morning, another two will be arriving in a few days. And you wonder if Ez regrets just not cutting his losses and leaving with them, or at least sending you back in exchange for another kip.

You think about shifting through the comm channels, hoping that he’s chattering away in one of them, switched without your knowledge, but it’s a lost cause. You can hear him breathing on the channel between you. It’s not often Ezra has nothing to say.

________________

You thought your father was leaving you an inheritance. It’s not the reason you took care of him through his illness, but you’d dropped everything to be back home with him through his final months. In a way, it was a blessing, a reason to quit the Dasha factory and the terrible working conditions there, come back home and focus on your dad, relive good memories, just spend time. The reconnection lifted your heart, but his death sank it low again. When you learned he had nothing to leave you but a small house and some old vehicles, you sold what you could and traded in the rest.

Then you had nothing. No family, no job, little savings, questionable future. It almost broke your spirit. But the last few months with your father rekindled your love of him as he told you about his years in the Fringe, mining and prospecting. And your heart had said, “what the hell, let’s try that.” So you listened.

It took some time to track down the right inroads, but you were able to find some ads for prospecting teams, in particular those who were willing to take on members in training for a re-distributed cut. With all provisions included--other than suit and gear, which your father’s inheritance neatly covered--it seemed like just as good of a deal as any, and an adventure to boot.

But the reality was, every team you met with was full of hardened men, and while you were not a soft Central woman, you also weren’t overly versed in weaponry and didn’t know if you could defend yourself out in the Fringe against attack if things got crusty.

You were just about ready to admit defeat when you walked into yet another conference bunker and found your match. The first thing you noticed was that he was standing when you arrived, waiting for you politely rather than manspread at the table. Second were his eyes. Deep, brown, and sad. Maybe sad was the wrong word, certainly it seemed by the lines in his face, possibly by the missing arm, that he’d seen enough sadness, but toward you, it read more as concern. You wouldn’t know it until later when he confessed his feelings about this first meeting, but he was worried you wouldn’t choose him. Ezra had a hell of a time hiring partners. He may have been one of the longest-working aurelac diggers out there, but young kippers saw his greying beard and seasoned diggers saw his lacking arm and they all tended to turn around and walk out before he even said hello. So he’d tried to put himself out there as a trainer, show that he had something more to offer.

It didn’t hurt his feelings when you admitted to him later that those qualities were exactly why you chose him. He seemed the opposite of threatening. And his eyes were bright when he smiled at you. With his thrumming baritone and his Fringe twang and his mixed deck of mosaic words, he had a way of speaking that felt like a fluffy blanket curling around you, your brain vibrating with comfort at every new monologue. He was eccentric and perhaps a little jarringly rough in his humor at times, but there was something about him that you trusted immediately, even though you’d come to learn later you probably shouldn’t have if you were being overly cautious.

Not that your judgement ever came to detriment. Not that he ever proved you wrong that way. Not when it came to you. But the man was dangerous when he had to be in a way you hadn’t initially picked up on.

________________

You hadn’t been out in the Green two weeks before you looked up from the bottom of a dig hole to see Ezra standing over you with a thrower.

“You get down and you stay down, understand?”

“Ez? What--”

“I said stay down! Do not make me waste words on mere repetition!” The fuzzy blanket of his voice replaced suddenly by a snarling, snapping brush wolf, a quick change hitting you like a slap in the ear.

There’d been pops and whizzes as shots rang through and you did as your trainer said, face down, the view of your visor giving you nothing but dirt. Your helmet was a chorus of quick breathing from both of you and sweat rolled down your neck as you begged the eyes of Kevva to look down upon your partner. When the crossfire faded, you’d heard Ezra stalk away. Then there were a couple more shots. Then more footsteps returning.

“You are permitted to stand, trinket. All is well as it can be for us. But not so much for our dearly departed friends.” These words were as soothing as much as his previous ones had burned, and he simply went back to working at the dig at hand as if he’d just come back from taking a leak. It wasn’t until you left the site that evening that you tramped past two rotting raiders, gaudily outfitted with broken face shields, left to let the Green take them.

Ezra whistled as he stepped over them, stopping only to harvest their filters and munition rods, which he tossed your way to stow in your pack, and then continued lazily down the path toward camp. Just another day on the job. 

He may be a little peculiar and not someone to trifle with, he may have just killed two people without remorse or further comment, but his lack of reassuring words told you that this was just part of the deal. You wear the suit, you use the air scrubber in the tent, you follow the landing pod instructions as written, and you defend yourself against those who wish to harm you. Survival by any and all means is paramount, mundane, and something he has no qualms with on any level.

There was something deep down inside of you that instinctually pulled you to follow him, not just down the literal path before you, but whatever path Ezra chose to wander.

________________

Before you’d left the station with him, he’d taken you to a thrower range to gauge your skill which was decent in theory, but dismal compared with what he could do. No matter, he still patiently taught you how to properly clean and charge a weapon and the best way to breathe and pull the trigger; “like you’re taking hold of a man’s...well... Just go easy and firm.” He suggested you should come and practice every day before lift off and then hope to Kevva that you didn’t have to rely too heavily on it.

“If I find myself in a coffin of my own suit, then feel free to defend yourself as a final means of preservation. Otherwise, when it comes down to shots fired, best to let me do the dirty work. Might as well keep the blood where the blood has been.”

You’d been a little nervous about sharing a freighter pod alone with him, but Ezra was...well, not so much a gentleman as just a comfortable soul. 

He always waited until you were hungry to eat, thinking it rude to eat alone in front of you. He never moved around the pod while you were sleeping, content to keep still with a book in his cot. And if you couldn’t sleep, he was always willing to read to you from whatever impossibly dense old world classic he was digging through for the umpteenth time, letting his voice come up from the deeps and pull you gently under. If you asked permission to turn on the radio, he’d ask you “why Isn’t it on yet, woman,” quietly tolerating your taste in harsh and gleeful babblecore pshcyopop. In the later days of the journey, he’d even come to dance with you from time to time, although both of you were dismal at it and ended up with you in a fit of giggles. It was a sure-fire way to cure a case of the pouts you carried through from the morning fitness sessions when he beat you at pushups. Again.

When it came to privacy in the tight space, he had a habit of turning away without having to be asked or stopping his stream of talk when you went to change clothes, just happily chattering away until you called the all clear. Although he was not squeamish about his own state of undress, should you happen to catch it by accident. While he was respectful of your privacy, he seemed to need none of his own, but neither did he flaunt anything. You might look up from studying the flight manual to notice he was changing into a fresh pair of compression pants, tugging them on haphazardly with one hand, more concerned with telling you the overwhelmingly disgusting manufacturing process of Bits Bars than his own ass hanging out where you might see it. At least he always changed facing away from you which was a kindness.

Until it wasn’t.

After you realized you’d fallen quietly in love with him--a sudden, soft moment on the Green--then you’d admit only privately to yourself that you wouldn’t mind if you accidentally saw a little more than the occasional shirtless attire he might wear around the tent.

But in the pod, the only part of him that had caught your curiosity was his stump, and you’d known Ezra intensely enough over the past couple of weeks where you knew he wouldn’t take offense. Especially if you asked him the right way.

“Will you tell me a story, Ezra?”

“I feel that it is my duty to do so whether you ask me to or not. Shall I choose, or is there something in particular you would like to hear?”

He was sitting cross-legged on the floor, propped up against his cot, going through his kit, cleaning his gear. You waited until he noticed your lack of answer and looked up to meet your eyes. When he saw that you had put your manual down and were focusing all your quiet attention on him, he stopped his busy work. 

When Ezra gives you his attention, it is absolute. When he knows you seriously need something from him, that becomes his immediate main priority and all else can wait. It’s only gotten more intense since that day, but there is a trust that resides between you when you look into his eyes, gathering your words as he waits patiently every time to hear whatever you’re going to request of him. There’s always hope there in his big browns, always something specific he’s waiting for you to ask, and every day you get a little bit closer to understanding what it might be. But until then, any question is a welcome one, any query is met with his wish to provide.

“Will you tell me how you lost your arm?”

At first you thought you may have gone too far, that maybe you insulted him, as his eyebrows peaked together and he looked down at his hand. But then, “That is a tale that may cause you some consternation, trinket. The Green is dangerous and unforgiving, and there were times I may not have been a man worthy of fair opinion.”

“My father was a prospector, you know. I’ve heard stories. Have you ever killed anyone?”

He clicked his tongue and screwed up an eye, causing the thin white scar on his cheek to twist. Then he sighed and returned to your locked gaze. “To be honest, I have. Though I have never done so with pleasure, I have killed in defense and out of desperation, and it was out of dispatching a man in this way that I came to lose the second favorite of all my appendages.”

“Second favorite?”

“Well, it depends what you classify as a limb.” He huffed a small laugh, a spark in his eye, trying to diffuse the harsh subject in his own way.

His leaning into baseness never bothered you. There was something earthy about it, gritty and rough, but never lewd. You rewarded his crassness with a smile. “Do you plan on killing me out in the Green?”

“I would hope my murdering days are behind me, and if they are not, you would see me aim a thrower at everyone but you in the course of my spree. You are under my tutelage, and for that, I owe you a duty of care. That is my word by Kevva.”

“Then tell me the story. I like your stories. I promise not to judge now-Ezra by then-Ezra.”

A dimple formed on his cheek, a punctuation mark framing the approaching anecdote on his lips. “Then I will declare myself absolved of any sin heretofore and regale you with a clean and grateful heart.”

________________

You can see the tent through the trees and you realize with some horror that it’s just you and Ezra for the next few nights. If he’s angry with you, and this is how he is when he’s upset, the silence will be unbearable.

Even that little girl he helped out here years ago was probably more capable than you. You feel so lost in this moment, and it’s only made worse by his silence. You fumble with your communicator and hit the mute just in time to choke on a sob.

This isn’t like you. You’re not one to cry when things get rough. You hardly shed a tear when your father died. But the thought of that just brings another sob and as acting as your own psychologist you realize that you are experiencing some displaced sorrow, the odd need to please the leading male in your life, the one that’s walking ahead of you, away from you. If he’d just turn around and throw you his worn weary smile, if he’d just start up a conversation you’d know that there was hope for you, you’d know you didn’t give up everything to be here in a job you couldn’t hack.

You gotta stop this. Or it’s going to be an uncomfortable night.

Shake it off.

Once you enter the tent, the usual dance happens. Ezra reaches up to turn on the air scrubber and you unhook his filter tube from his helmet. When he turns to you, you pull open the zipper cover on his suit and start his zip for him before lifting his helmet up and off. He can pull the zip the rest of the way, but you generally pull the left collar down for him so he can get his arm out. He’s on his own from there as you turn to fuss with your own gear. 

________________

You remember it starting easily enough. He was telling you a story about the breeding habits of the Tokovian Musk Owl and you could see he was having trouble with his suit zipper, yanking at it and trying to look down at it even though it was under his chin and his helmet. Without another hand to keep the fabric taut, the zip didn’t want to release, so you simply batted his hand away and started it for him. He didn’t even stop his yammering, just threw in a “thank you” somewhere in between “could hear them screeching” and “for a fuck.” He’d right out asked you the day before if you wouldn’t mind disengaging the filter tube just because it was delicate and he didn’t want to mangle the expensive part trying to pop it out one-handed day after day. And while he could manage the helmet fine enough, his prominent nose thanked you for a smoother removal for sure. 

It wasn’t the only routine dance you’d concocted. 

There was the harness dance.

While dig days were excruciating, you always looked forward to helping him attach the harness for his prosthesis--a kind of rigid pole attached to a shovel so you didn’t have to do all the hard digging alone. There were a couple of straps that came around his torso with multiple latches and you’d come to really enjoy wrapping your arms around him to fit the straps on. Sure, you could do the job just as easily from behind, but if you embraced him at the front, he’d usually raise his arm and let it come to rest around your shoulders while you worked. If you let yourself dream, it would be easy to imagine that he might be pressing you into him just a little bit.

And there was the harvesting dance.

On a dig, you were the one to mix the fazer and Ezra did the pour. He fished the sack, you cut the cord. You sliced the outer casing and held it open while he did the extraction. And with the flesh-covered stone, he told you every time to “hold it like you love it” so he could cut away the slippery blister before cleaning the gemstone.

It was a beautiful harmony. And the only way it worked. Because once on every dig he urged you to do a solo extraction, and on every dig, you pierced the blister and lost that stone. And on every dig, he squeezed your shoulder and told you it was a wondrous try, that he was proud of you, and there would always be another turn. There was no sarcasm, no pity, just a warm smile and ceaseless optimism even though you just lost both of you thousands in pay.

These were the first touches, these shoulder squeezes that ran down your arm on the let-go. Sometimes he would just reach out and grab onto you like a pole to help himself up, or he might stumble off balance on uneven ground and without the counterweight of his right arm he’d throw his hand out onto you to steady himself. He wasn’t beyond lightly touching the small of your back to encourage you down a path or to take your next try at a gem pull. 

This was all part of something you’ve secretly named the left-handed-lover’s dance. Basically, that you keep on his left whenever you can in case he needs your help or has the inclination to reach for you. It started out as just trying to be a good partner. Then it became a passing hope that it was more than just a friendly bond. But you were both here to do a job. He was here to teach you to be an independent prospector and you were here to assist and learn. That was evident at the end of the day; once you were both in the tent and out of the suits he never touched you, never so much as bumped into you or grazed your hand in passing an item or clapped you on the arm after a good joke. 

But out in the field all zipped in and helmets on, there was nothing more natural than his gentle hand guiding you or reaching for your assistance, including the day you realized you loved him.

________________

Before you can turn away to strip off your own coverings, Ezra catches your arm, spinning your face into the light. You try to shake him off, not wanting him to catch your eyes puffy from crying and your cheeks still streaked with tears, but his grip is not so gentle now and he yanks you back around to his stormy glare, chin up, brows low. His intensity paralyzes you, rendering you unable to continue your struggle when he catches your eyes with his.

When Ezra gives you his attention, it is absolute.

His gaze travels back and forth between your eyes, waiting for an explanation, a minute so stringent it breaks you down, dissolves you into the tears you’d tried so hard to hide.

“I’m sorry, Ezra. I really am trying... I don’t know why I’m such a scuffer at this and I know it would only be right to release you from the contract and tell you to send me back but I don’t want you to, I really wanna stay, I really wanna learn and I’m so, so sorry.”

Your words have an immediate effect, softening him, pulling his glare into concern and wonder, his lips parting just the tiniest bit in surprise.

“This is the reason for your heavy mood? You think I am provoked by your proficiency in the field?” 

“I crusted up good today and it seems like you’re not happy about it. Just...know that it means so much to me that...I don’t wanna let you down.”

“Oh, trinket, no.” An incredulous huff jumps out of him and his grip on your arm loosens, becomes a splayed warm support behind your shoulder, moving in soothing patterns and you’re instantly relieved that your assumptions were wrong. “You have done no harm in my book. It is not an easy thing to deliver a gem of this ilk into the world unscathed. Your opportunities have been few and scattered and it takes many sticks before a lover becomes a lothario.” He knows the crass humor will make you laugh, knows what to say to lighten your heart, to get you to soften, and bring you into his intimate, conspiratorial mood. “To be perfectly honest, I am selfish to an unrighteous degree, for every gem you burn keeps me in value to you. A worthy sacrifice to guarantee you mightn’t be so quick in your need to fly away from me until your training’s complete.”

This causes a hitch in your breath as you see the welcome turn the conversation he’s taking and you follow the path he’s making for you. “I don’t want to leave you, Ez.”

A smile creeps up one side of his mouth. “Well then I am a happy man. A bargain is struck! Partners it is.”

“Partners it is.”

A moment hangs between you as he rubs his thumb in slow circles on your shoulder. There’s that look in his eye again, the one where he’s waiting for you to ask the question he wants to hear from you. So close now.

Still, you’re unsure. “I guess I’m lucky I found the one person who wants an incompetent partner.”

“No, I do not, nor is it what I have and I must express my objection to your self-debasement. This work is not for the shiny, and you have not once complained about taking on the meat of the digging or the crawl of my schedule.”  His hand comes to your helmet shield and he rakes his thumb across it as if he ached to wipe away one of your staleing tears. “Those bright eyes of yours got a penchant for spotting deposits more skillfully than I could ever manage and that’s not something that can be taught; that’s talent, girl. The blistering?” He shrugs. “Even I can’t manage that without the steady help of your fine hands. You may think that your blunders in education are causing us some financial ruin, but our fortunes are creamy. I assure you, we can afford it.”

That look is still there. He’s waiting. “There’s some ‘us’ and ‘we’ in there, Ez.” Your hands drift to his sides, taking fistfuls of his compression suit top, willing him closer.

The edges of his eyes take on the crinkle you’ve come to find so much comfort in. “So there is.”

You’re almost there. You know what he wants. “Why were you so quiet on the walk back?” 

“Because for the next few days we are alone here and I have a mind full of questions I do not know how to ask you.”

“Then let me go first.” A yearning happiness settles in his brown eyes; finally. Finally you’ve found out what it is he needs you to request of him. “If I take this helmet off, are you going to kiss me, Ez?”

His eyes close in contentment and he nods, “Yes. Yes, little jewel. Yes I am, that and more. I hope I have inferred correctly that it is your wish that I do so, because I am in free fall. I feel my orbit ending and my pull to you is complete.”

_______________

“A moon is an orbiting admirer, and what is an orbit but a long fall to oblivion?”

Speculating days were some of your favorite times, just wading through the brush and looking for the telltale signs and shoots of an underlying deposit. Sometimes you came upon nests of strange groundling insects or flowers that only grew in secret. There were treasures underfoot on this poisonous moon, but if you remembered to look up as well, you might find some dangerous beauties there too. 

On that day--the one where you finally understood your heart--you’d looked up to find that you were on a cliffside overlooking a valley, the canopy a million different hues of green, the gas giant looming over half the sky in a big pink and orange semi-circle. There was a fallen log that served as a perfect seat for the perfect view and you knew Ezra wouldn’t mind if you stole a few moments to sit and to take it in. It’s just the kind of thing he’d appreciate. And you were proven right when he came up behind you, putting a hand on your shoulder to steady himself as he swung one leg then the other over the log, finding a perch next to you, spouting pretty words through the channel link--soft and low--about moons and orbits and obilvions.

“That glowing beauty is Bakhroma. She is quiet and fierce, made up of the unfathomable and the unknowable, always within sight, but out of reach and untouchable unless one would trade the honor with great sacrifice. She reflects the light that is given to her with a patience that is heretofore untold. And the Green Moon upon which we ride follows where she goes like a lovesick fool, spinning around her in a heady kind of adoration, full of secret treasures buried deep down that will ultimately one day belong to her, falling incrementally over eons until he finally loses himself in her, all his glories gladly forfeit to her welcome and inevitable embrace. Alone but together, seemingly eternal, pulled as one by the laws of a mysterious universe.”

The void that came after those words was filled with the beating of your heart, and you were sure he could hear it through the channel.

When he’d landed there beside you, you’d registered how his hand slid off your shoulder, diagonally down across your back, coming to rest at your waist, his arm draped lightly around you. Natural. Easy. Everything was warm--the colors of the sky, the care with which he kept you close as if to better hear the honey sweetness in his prose, the fire burning in your lungs and neck.

Ezra probably didn’t know that you spoke a little Vayok.

Bakh being the Vayok word for adornment. Ornament, Gem. Roma was a modifier, a diminutive. Small. Dear.

Bakhroma. Sentimental bauble. A little jewel.

In other words, a trinket.

All you wanted to do was sit down to take in the view of an entire world for a few moments, but by the time Ezra took your hand and helped you to your feet, all you saw was him.

________________

The helmet is barely off before his lips are sealed to yours in a press of greed. Even if he can’t form words when he kisses you, he can’t help but express his deep relief in a heartbreaking moan. It’s a fight to release yourself from the suit when he keeps pulling you against him and every time you try to get some space between you to work the zipper, he chuckles into your mouth, enjoying the tease and the struggle. It’s simultaneously frustrating and thrilling and you give in for a few moments just to give him what he seems to want so desperately right now.

Ezra kisses like a man starved for air, long, hard, and full of need, peeling his lips away only to come back for another breath of you until his initial want is slaked and he slows, allows for more time between his taking, his mouth starting to mumble against yours, praising you with pet names, telling you how perfect you are to him, how long he’s “fought against my more dubious natures to respect your womanly virtues and take them only when you could see in me a man worth bestowing them on.”

You’re able to use his weakness for monologuing to turn around in his vice-like embrace, finally freeing yourself of the suit and he takes the opportunity to drawl more pretty words in your ear, warning you that “I’m afraid I have been enamored of you overly long and may be extra eager in my attentions. So you just say the word if you need a slow down, gentle one, and I will do my best to comply. Although I will admit it will be a difficult endeavor indeed as I feel I am entering your atmosphere and nothing might quell this burn but finding some drowning place to land.”

Your first impression of him was of a man whose age and temperament and body would not be able to overpower you.

Your first impression was wrong.

Of course, it helps that you are willing.

It doesn’t take long for him to strip you down, and then himself. To kiss you down onto the floor. To find exactly where you like to be touched most and how long it takes for you to break from it. He has so many words for you, so many praises to sing about every part of you that is round or soft or wet, comparing you to things that are sweet and plush or celestial and holy. And when you take his favorite limb in hand--as wondrous as the rest of his body--and guide it to its fit, he plunders and harvests all you have to give him, filing you with himself, for as long as you call for it, as long as you let him. He loves you like he speaks to you: rough and drawn out, full of beautiful tangents and meandering plotlines, but in the end it is beautiful and fulfilling; you may be just a little bit confused how you got to the ending, but you’re completely in awe.

When you lay breathing heavy, staring but not seeing the ceiling of the tent, your consciousness seemingly lifted to see through it to the stars, to the glowing face of Bakhroma, you run hands through rough-chopped hair on a head laying on your chest. He’s listening to your heartbeat, waiting for it to slow down so he can start again. The air is thick--even the air scrubber can’t keep up with all your humidity--and there’s a halo around each bulb of the string lights just barely illuminating the darkness.

“How long, Ez?”

“Hm?”

“How long have you been waiting for that.”

“Most likely since the day you walked into my interview. I am a man of simple wants and you had all the right parts for my preferences.”

“For real, Ez.”

He tipped his head up to find you. “What you ask has many true answers, and I stand by the first. I have no qualms telling you of my weakness for a pretty succulence and a kind smile the likes of which you possess. But if you are asking when I knew I would have it, well, that may have been the first day you danced. Or when you asked me to read you to sleep. Or when I understood I wouldn’t let those bastard raiders get near enough to take their turn at your qualities when I had not had them myself. Or when you finally saw me as a viable person to drape your affections on; maybe it was that day too.”

“When I finally saw you as....”

“I have read many tomes and verses but none so full of beautiful passages as your face that day on the cliff. There is a difference of knowing and being. I knew the feel of your pull that day, but found I’d been in orbit all along.”

How he can live this way, twist everything into a tossed away poem...it should be exhausting. Yet you feed off it. You breathe it like air.

After another long cycle of frenzied entanglement and violent euphoria, you ask Ezra if he’d like to move to a cot, maybe get some sleep. “I’m not sure if I’ll be able to walk to the dig tomorrow morning,” you confess.

“No need to worry about tomorrow,” he says, wapping his arm around you and dragging you back to him, grumbling into your ear. “We are the only prospectors in this sector and the aurelac will wait. Until our new compatriots arrive, we are officially on hiatus. Recreational mining only. Restricted to the confines of this tent. By order of your supervisor. In the interest of more precious treasures. And I intend to strike it rich.”

“Well. I’m here to assist. And learn.”

“When it comes to this dig, trinket, you are more than competent. I am no longer your trainer. Partners it is.”

“Partners it is.”

The new contract is struck, signed and sealed in kissing and in touch and a long, slow fall into inevitable oblivion.

[anaiswriterr]

The Dragon Kings Queen

Pairing: Dragon King!Bakugou x Queen!Reader

Rating: M

Warning: This is part four, I’d like to point out be aware: 𝐬���𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝗼𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝗺𝐞𝐬, 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐮𝐞, 𝐠𝗼𝐫𝐞, 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐭𝐜. Please don’t read if you are not comfortable with it, and if you’re under the age of 18+ I will give a warning when it becomes NSFW but at the moment it’s SFW.

<masterlist>

Synopsis: ➪ When the word marriage crossed your mind, you believed you’d marry someone you loved. Not this brute of a King. So here you are standing at the end on an alter, pushing away the urge to run and fight. Possibly start a new life, instead of being dragged into a loveless marriage. But for the sake of your people.. They say he’s not what rumors make him out to be, but how can you believe that when his eyes burn into yours; just as fiery as before. How could you, ever love someone as barbaric as him…

- chapter four: gifted dagger -

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You clutch hard onto an old bladed dagger, it digs into your palm and slices a long line against the soft skin. Droplets of blood pools onto the gravel below you, heaving you throw the weapon into a tree bark. You groan out in frustration when it doesn't latch onto the wood, "I can't do this!"

"Don't say that, it's your first day. Try again," Kirishima urges, bending down to grab the dagger off the ground, handing it back to you placing the blade down into your palm; you seethe in pain. Swallowing down the yelp that threatened to escape passed your lips, Kirishima notices your stained palms before snatching the dagger back from your grasp.

"We'll pick this back up later, don't want you getting an infection."

Perhaps he was right, the blade was only slightly rusted - it's been over an hour with the blade constantly digging into your skin; if you didn't cover it up soon then an infection was possible. You shrug, "An infection compared to getting eaten by a bear, or an ogre is nothing in my eyes; so don't worry about me. We can continue," You reach out to grab the dagger out from his hands, but he hides the blade into his holster. Nodding his head side to side, "No can do, my job is to make sure you are safe 24/7 and if that means making you go to the infirmary then so be it."

You arch a brow wiping away the sweat beads off your forehead from the hot dewy morning, "Is that a request?"

"Your Highness, will all due respect, it's an order."

"Fine, but I quite frankly would like to survive so if we could continue this on later-"

"Of course," he smiles, "Now, go fix your hand. I was told Bakugou would like to speak to you-"

"That will not be necessary since I will not be speaking to him." You pour a cup of water over your palm, attempting to clean off the dirt. After yesterday's events you have vowed to not utter a single word to him, he's clearly a hard head who never had anyone stand up to him. As his "wife" what better then to punish his actions then using the silent treatment towards the temperamental brat. Kirishima scratches the back of his head sheepishly, fiddling with his weapon. "Well you know Your Highness-"

"Y/N will do just fine. Please no formalities between us two."

"Right. Um well, you know. Bakugou is a hard kinda guy to work with, it was hard for even I to get to be as close as I am with him. He hates silence, he might ask for it. But radio silence might not be the best answer between the two of you.. considering you two are on thin ice right now."

You arch a brow in question, wiping the sheen layer of sweat off your brow bone. "What do I do then, Kirishima. How do I win over a beast who doesn't attempt at all?"

***

To say you utterly hated Katsuki Bakugou was an understatement.

For one night he managed to put on a mask that nearly caught you in a rope of curiosity for the man - maybe he was just misunderstood. Like hell, his mother had the same fighting and burning spirit one of a dragon meanwhile his father was more calm, well rounded, wise like a dragon. So why was Bakugou the mean one of the bunch.

'You can't fix everyone, Y/N.'

Well that sentence surely did not age well, you wince as the healer places an alcohol soaked cotton ball onto your wound. Biting your lip back in pain it takes up all your strength to not pull back and away from the old man.

"I'll be right back, my Queen it seems like you may need some herbs from the garden and recently I've run out. Don't worry it'll only take me five minutes." The healer reassures you, you nod in return pressing the cotton ball into the cut, cleaning the area in the meantime.

"That's alright, take your time." You smile.

The stinging pain slowly subsided when you finally became accustomed to the clear liquid, to handle a dagger will be much harder now. You are determined to prevail, just a small bump in the road nothing quite serious. A knock on the infirmaries white door retracts you from your thoughts, eyes wondering towards the window that overviewed the garden shows it's not the healer.

"Come in."

Short blonde hair with ruby red eyes strut in, Mitsuki, your mother in law smiles down at you. "Hello dear, I heard you were in here.. I wanted to speak to you. Are you okay?"

You can feel your heart nearly drop, your mother in law was as sweet as a ripe strawberry in season but the aura she carried screamed and resembled Katsuki. You nod, greeting her with a formal cheek kiss, "Oh I'm fine just a tiny cut is all. What would be the problem?" You wave off her worry.

"Oh no dear, there is no problem. I'm glad it's just a cut, I was worried it was far worse. I just wanted to spend time with my daughter in law - I wanted you to know that though this may be a hard time, I went through this. You will be just fine. I also... heard your and Katsuki's fight last night.. I didn't mean to intrude I was just on the way to find Melody when I stumbled upon you two, how are you feeling?"

Oh dear. She knew, did anyone else know? Of course people know the two of you were practically testing who can yell the loudest - this is embarrassing. He really did manage to get a rise from you.

You stare down at your palm, this was the first time anyone here has actually asked whether or not you were fine.

"I-I'm okay, he's just hard to get to."

The bed of the infirmary dips slightly beside you as Mitsuki's takes a seat beside you, "Yes, he can be a handful most days. Katsuki doesn't exactly know how to be... nice? It's probably my fault, I was constantly pushing him as a child. You know, he turned out to be a fine warrior; a fine commander." You nod listening to his mother, "I guess the two of you are no longer on speaking terms. I get it, I moved from a neighboring kingdom to here. It was hard to get his father to open up," Mitsuki sighs.

"But the two of you fell in love."

"You are very right, but like all love. It took time."

A silence falls between the two of you, she was the only person who you could remotely relate to right about now. She was the only one who could even fathom how scared you are, you were served with a silver platter all your life nearly always spoon fed and suddenly thrown into a tribe you knew nothing about. "How did you do it?"

Mitsuki arches a brow, "What do you mean?"

"H-How do I survive in that forest? What do I have to expect even after? How did you do it?"

The former queen sighs, eyeing your injury. "Well, from my kingdom we had similar principles I already had the basic knowledge of outdoor survival. To keep it short," She grabs your free hand in comfort. "I'm sure they haven't bothered telling you the objectives, the point system.. the tribal ceremony for those who make it out of alive. You must come out with a Goblin heart, no exceptions. Afterwards believe it or not you are placed on a pedestal at midnight the day you arrive back where you must eat the entire muscle, uncooked. The blood is told it'll bring great fortune and fertility. The process.. was nevertheless grueling I felt like a caged animal with all the drums and cheering. Y/N you must not, and I repeat my not throw up during the feasting."

You nod intently, stomach curling at the thought of a eat raw heart. But tribal traditions and regulations must be met, your heart pounded. It seemed like no matter where you turned there was always a set back, a catch. You survive the forest and now you must feast in front of the entire kingdom?

"Stay high, on top of the trees are the best option. Don't make a fire at night - I know, it'll be tempting. It'll grow cold as night falls, but the most dangerous creatures come out then and are attracted to light. You'll be dead before you even know it." Mitsuki lectures with a stern gaze, tightening her grip around the palm of your uninjured hand. "Find running water, a stream, lake, river. Whatever, it's freshwater. You'll catch your fish there, berries and nuts are also located near there. If you'd like to start a fire I suggest start when the sun rises, the creatures of the forest will retreat since they are nocturnal."

You store this information into your head, such valuable keys of survival. You are determined to return breathing, to return alive.

"Goblins are tricksters - never trust a single word that utters from their mouths. It's poisonous. They are most active during the day, but during sunlight stay low and stay quiet, follow the wind and it'll guide you. That is all I can say, I wish I could say more. Personally, I attempted to change this law for years. It never seemed fair, I pray I see you again Y/N."

"Thank you. I hope to see you as well." You smile sadly at the blonde woman who carried a guilty expression, her hands finally let go of your free one. "I'm terribly sorry, Y/N. I have one last thing to gift you, It's not much. Katsuki was supposed to give it to you this morning but it appears the outskirts have called upon him once again." Mitsuki reaches out for a golden box to the left of her, the velvet embroiled box calls your attention.

"It's said to be a gift from the gods. The gods who birthed dragons, carried down by generations. All Dragon Queens have used this, a sacred weapon to help kill the beast and restore balance; Katsuki has made the executive decision that you get to receive this gift." Mitsuki's hand fiddles with the locks of the box, the top lid opens with a flick of her fingers.

A blade, shines in the light.

Cleaned and sharp, the Queen's dagger passed down from hundreds of years worth of battles.

Is gifted.. to you, by the king.

"I-I can not accept this. This gift, I do not deserve this. It's sacred-" You babble, waving your hands you gently push away the box bestowed to you between the spot that separated the both of you. Two queens of the Dragon Kingdom. "You can, and you will. I was gifted this dagger two months after both I and Masaru's wedding. Katsuki wanted you to have this sacred weapon now. He has chosen you, please take it."  

You nod in response, hands trembling as you reach out for the velvet box. The handle of the dagger stings in your possession, the bleeding in your right hand has finally stopped when you hold the blade with two hands. It was much more easier to carry, sharper, and even thinner - as light as a feather, fit for a Queen, fit for battle. It was your husband who bestowed this gift to you, "When you are out there, Y/N. Remember.. to fight like a dragon."

"And how must I manage to fight like a dragon? I don't even know how to throw a dagger properly - at a still object, may I add." You show her the deep cut in need of stiches on your palm, "Dragons, my dear, always find a way to win."

***

Your palm is tightly wrapped with herbs to protect the freshly new stitches, meeting Kirishima in the backwoods where training took place. You managed to learn how to build a fire, a makeshift knife if your original weapon were to ever be kicked away from you, how to catch a fish and how to determine which berries were poisonous and which were safe for consumption.

You wince at the feeling of sharp branches scratching against your bare legs, dressed with royal training gear you wondered if you could actually make it to the finish line. You take a bite of a berry, it's tart yet semi sweet flavor cleans your palette of fish. Kirishima watches from the side with a satisfied grin, nightfall was quickly approaching and since this morning you have requested no sort of rest. You drink away at your makeshift cup, the leaf holding only a handful of water you eagerly drink away at.

Kirishima looks up to the darkening sky, hews of purples, pinks, and blues paint the sky as stars begin to appear.

"I should probably get you back to the Palace," He says wiping his hand away from dirt he collected off the tree bark he leaned against - watching your crouched and exhausted figure warm your hands over the mini fire you created. You look up, "I suppose you're right," You reach over to the stream beside you cupping a handful of water and watering down the fire, stomping it out with wet breaches and leaves. Patting it into the ground to stop the embers from continuing to burn.

Kirishima fiddles with his swords and daggers, "You did great today, Y/N." He praises you, proud of how far you've come in just a day. It took him hours to catch a fish when he was just a child, when his parents were alive. You thank him, moving beside him as the two of you walk down the backwoods trail. Only sharing small talk and friendly conversation.

You hum at the story he told of both him and Bakugou, "Well.. how exactly did the two of you meet. You two seem so close to one another, not to mention.. Kirishima you're very loyal to him - his family. What's your story?" There's a visible hitch in his breath, his shoulders tense up as he stumbles upon his words. "I-I'm so sorry! If you don't want to talk-

Kirishima chuckles waving off your worries, "No, nobody has ever asked me. We were just.. brothers. I met him in the mountains, I was just eight years old and back then Dragon hunting use to be a huge problem. Hunters, Poachers - they would all terrorize Dragons who lived peacefully with no mercy murder entire hoards. My parents.. were hunted and killed along with the entire clan and neighboring tribes. I was running, miles away from my home for days. Crying, hungry, thirsty, I was to afraid to fly because they would see me."

You listen intently, nodding along to his words, saddened by his past. Feeling guilty for even asking, he continues.

"Bakugou, can be mean, a brute, barbaric, and even sometimes cruel. But I promise you he has a good heart; so easily he could've turned his back away from me in the mountains. Let the Goblins and Wolves feast on me, instead he took me in. Into the Royal campgrounds, his parents welcomed me in. Cleaned my wounds, gave me a hot meal, warm milk to combat the winter, fresh pair of boots and clothes, even a warm bed to sleep in. Bakugou didn't talk, didn't even introduce himself to me after a few days. However if he didn't take me in then I would've died alone in the cold. And for that I am loyal to them, hell he even let me hold onto his toy for a while." He chuckles.

A silence grows between the both of you, with only snapping branches beneath your boots. Its crunches sooths the silence until he spoke once more.

"I hope you know you're going to be okay, Y/N. I believe in you, and in three days time when you have to walk into that forest; I am convinced I will see you also walk out.

"Thank you Kirishima, I-I'm sorry for what happened to your family."

The redhead waves you off once more smiling to you as the castle gates approach, "It's okay, things happen for a reason. Now go clean up, Melody should have your bath ready. Sleep tight your Highness." He bows gesturing for you enter passed the gates. You press a small kiss to his cheek watching a dark red blush spread throughout his face, "Goodnight Kirishima."

Walking passed him and into the handmaidens arms, Kirishima watches you. A hand pressed hard onto his sizzling red hot cheek that burned out against his palm, smiling sheepishly, gushing over the lingering feeling of ghost lips that once pressed against his cheek. Turning away with his back foot, he hears two pairs of heavy boots stomping against the ground, royal guards heave - catching their breathes.

"What's wrong- where Bakugou?" Kirishima quickly asks eyeing the guards who ran all the way here from the stables in search for him. "Sir Kirishima, King Bakugou has requested your immediate arrival at the outskirts-"

"It's the eggs, sir!" The other interrupts, "The Dragon eggs, the four Gardina left behind."

***

"What's the problem? What happened with the eggs, I thought they were fine."

"Since Gardina's sudden death the eggs need warmth, there's talk from other kingdoms across the seas even, that people are thinking about stealing them, selling them for one million gems on the magical black market." Bakugou grimaces, his arms crossed over his chest. "It seems that we should pay a visit, remind them who we are."

Kirishima nods his head, moving along with his friend passed the campfire where soldiers sat. "What can I do to help?"

Bakugou moves the curtains of his tent, "After you train Y/N, the same day as the games I need you to take the eggs and hide them away as far as possible, I don't care where just away from  here. Hide them with the others in the mountains if you'd like - we can not afford them to go missing. Far too dangerous for anyone else." The blond commands, tiredness seeps through his voice as he rubs his eyes to combat the sleep he's been in desperate need for. "I'll give you the green light when to bring them back, I won't return to the Kingdom until the day of the games. Did my mother give Y/N the Royal Dagger?"

Nodding to himself Kirishima smiles, "Yes, she was given it this morning just before noon."

"How did she do?" Katsuki rubs the back of his neck, "Rocky as first, but the girl picks up fast. Will you be here to send her off?" Kirishima tilts his head crossing his arms, "I don't know if she wants me there."

"If you care about her coming back alive, you'll be there." ***

- 3 days later -

The carriage ride is slow, dangerously slow as you remember the long tight hug Melody gave you before your leave at the sunset, Former Queen Mitsuki sits in front of you, her hand clutches onto yours in comfort as you shake in fear in your seat. Kirishima is waiting outside the enchanted forest where it was the most safest - a crowd has formed of simple tribe and clan members outside their homes as they attempt to try and get a glimpse of you; their Queen.

You have yet to meet them, only knowing the castle walls and the workers who served.

You can feel your dagger inside it's brown leather hostler dig into your thigh; but it's fine. It's the only thing keeping you distracted from your pounding heart beat against your chest and the clamminess of your palms. The stitch's finally healed by a magic teller.

You don't even notice the purple hews of the setting sun turning pitch black with only the moon and stars to prove it's light on the passage way;  you breath deeply through your nose. Watching how you approached the enchanted forest quicker then you anticipated. Queen Mitsuki and King Masaru insisted you sleep, but you respectfully declined. How were you supposed to sleep when you were being forced into the most dangerous forest known to mankind. They could've just simply pushed you into a hungry Dragon's nest.

The carriage stops and the horses neigh signaling your arrival, a part of you wishes your mother had declined the offer of King Bakugou it would've been nice if he were to even apologize. But since you do not live in a fantasy world, you are reminded this is real life. And you are most certain no prince dressed in armor will come to your rescue and insists he runs off with you. You're stuck here.

You look back nervously at the former king and queen who both bite back their bottom lips, "I will see you in three days time. We both will."

The door to your side of the carriage is thrown open by Kirishima who holds his hand out to grip yours, "M'lady."

Hesitantly you let go of Mitsuki's hand, bidding the two goodbye and latch onto Kirishima's calloused rough ones. Your boots settle into the ground when you let go of his hand, eyes catching a pair of vermillion orbs, ones you haven't seen in three days. His necklaces of teeth he's collected over the years frightens you, will you have a necklace like that one day? "Are you ready, my Queen."

His eyes.

They say nothing at all, just a simple red gleam. He watches you approach the entrance of what seemingly looked like a one way ticket to death, is he going to say anything all? Probably not.

His malicious words still ring clear in your mind, "You wont be a Queen if you're dead."

Death is something you refuse to meet, at least not yet. You turn to face him, he has no emotion and the tears that threaten to spill are wiped away by your wrist. The only people here to witness the games are him, Kirishima, a few men from the counsels parliament, royal soldiers (who you suppose are only here to protect the king and stop you if you decide to run) and both Bakugou's parents who insisted on staying in the carriage. Bakugou's quiet glare is something most would be terrified of, but you refuse to be belittled and underestimated.

"Y/N? Are you okay?" You hear Kirishima ask, your eyes detach from the blonds. Nodding you wipe your clammy hand against the leather hunting skirt you were dressed in. "I'm fine, I'm ready."

You're scared. That's an understatement, "Time starts as soon as you enter, retrieve the Goblin heart and come back here the third day at sunset. If you are not here by then we will assume you have died." A counsel man announces, you hold back the urge to flip him off - he didn't know you. Nor did you know him, to throw your life away as if it were never meaningful to another was plain cruel but there was a thing you refused to do.

Give up.

"I'll see you later Y/N."

'I will not die'

You set out into the forest, without looking back, with the feeling of two vermillion eyes staring into your back.  

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AUTHORS NOTE: Personally one of the worst fucking chapters I’ve produced, anyways yooo Bakugou kinda feels guilty Y/N is going through this but you know this is going to be a strength building exercise for her. The ceremony after is based off of GOT so iykyk. Anyways my eye has been shut for like three days it just keeps watering and so irritating to write with. Okay I’m done ranting, I hope you liked it.