#duck nail Journey

[bratti-naomi]

Shine

[deadtired-highkeyenergetic]

Rain

Sike, this fic is not the sequel to Feelings. I happened across a brain worm for this fic and so it came into being. Here's one more for all you young Silco fans

Summary: It's just had to rain while you were outside, luckily your saviour is here to shelter you

You hate it when it rains. Water floods the streets, raindrops patter on roofs and splash onto the ground below. The rain soaks through everything — your clothes, your boots, chilling you to the bone. Usually, you would try and be under shelter when it rained, but today the rain caught you out in the open, leaving you a shivering wet mess.

"Stupid rain," you mutter, kicking a nearby pebble. Water drips off your hood into your eyes and you wipe it away, leaving a wet trail from your eyes to your cheek. A sliver of rain drips into your mouth and you make a face, the water tastes terrible. You spit into the river and pick up the pace, eager to get to The Last Drop for a drink to wash your mouth.

People hurriedly rush past you, splashing water all over. More cold rain soaks your boots and you swear, pulling your drenched coat around you tighter. Merchants holler at others to give way, their carts barreling down the streets and kicking up even more water as wheels crash into puddles. You move out of the way as a wave of water leaps at you, bumping into someone else in the process.

"Watch where you're going!" The person snaps, shoving you angrily with their shoulder. You stumble, shooting them a glare before continuing your journey back to the warmth and dryness of The Last Drop. A warm glass of wine sounds good right about now, and maybe some whisky to add to the fire in your stomach.

A sneeze builds in your nose but you quickly force it down, pushing against the flow of the crowd to get home. The now drenched bag of vegetables you had managed to snag from a bunch of snobbish Piltovians presses against your chest, a spot of chill in your otherwise still rather warm body. You hope none of the vegetables are ruined by the rain, Felicia would be sad but she wouldn't blame you, neither would the two brothers either.

Sighing, you try to cover the bag as much as you can. The only good thing this rain does is wash away the smell of smoke, and well you suppose it clears away some of the polluted air, although it's quite hard to tell since you've been breathing that air since you were born.

You duck and weave amongst the crowd, finally reaching the last stretch of your journey where there's space to move around since merchants don't frequent here. With a sigh, you close your eyes, letting the rain fall on you. Without the noise of the market, it's serene, tranquil even, a sensation that's rare in the Undercity. You can see the lights of The Last Drop, a warmth beckoning you over and smile. You're almost there.

"Whatcha got there, little snack?" Someone blocks your path.

"A middle finger, now get out of my way," you snap back, rudely gesturing at the figure. The rain only makes you more irritable, you're cold, hungry, and someone purposely getting in your way is the last thing on your bucket list right now. Your mind doesn't even register how large the figure is compared to you, or that the size of his palm could probably fit around your throat and snap it with little to no effort until said palm reaches out and curls around your neck.

"Do I have to teach you some manners?" The figure sneers, lifting you with ease. Your precious bag of vegetables fall to the wet ground with a sad plop as you gasp for air, legs kicking. Your nails dig into the flesh of his arm, leaving scratches behind but black spots are already starting to appear in your vision. Each kick and scratch is getting weaker, but you still muster the energy to spit in his face and wheeze out a last insult.

"Anyone — ever — taught you — how — to — say please?" The grip on your throat tightens and the figure snarls in anger, but his face contorts into one of pain and suddenly you're falling to the ground, hitting it with a splash.

You cough, a hand pressed to your chest as your lungs heave, inhaling as much air as they can. The smell of iron is starting to fill the air, courtesy of your saviour. A smaller and more lithe figure dashes towards you, bundling you in a thicker coat.

"What are you doing out in this weather?" A familiar voice snaps. Amidst the raindrops blurring your vision, you can make out sea foam coloured eyes narrowed in a mixture of annoyance and concern which makes you choke out a laugh.

"Taking a shower." Apparently, it's not as funny to him as it is to you because he scowls even harder and pulls you to your feet. Slinging your arm over his shoulder, he bends down to pick up the now very drenched bag of vegetables you had so carefully tried to protect and begins helping you back to The Last Drop.

"This is a miserable shower you're taking," he mutters and you grin back at him.

"It's free." You snigger and Silco lightly smacks you on the head.

"Then maybe I should just leave you out here to take your free shower." He promptly drops you ungraciously into the nearest puddle.

"Wait! No! I want to go back!" You yelp, scrambling to your feet. He simply walks faster and you lunge at him, tackling him to the ground. He lets out a shout as his clothes get drenched while you laugh, straddling him. "If I'm taking a free shower you're taking one too!"

"I never asked for one!" He splutters, quickly moving the bag of vegetables out of harm's way before throwing you off and sitting up. He shakes the water out of his eyes, slicking his hair backwards and glares at you. The puddles reflect the neon lights behind him, framing him in a soft neon glow and leaves you gaping.

"You're not catching any flies like that," he mutters, splashing water in your face. The sudden chill snaps you out of your stupor and you feel your cheeks heat up. You quickly look away, half-heartedly splashing water back in his face.

"I'd prefer to catch someone instead," you mumble to yourself, shivering. Your antics have only served to further drench you, and now the thicker coat Silco had wrapped you in is soaked as well.

"Are the two of you done flirting or should I just leave you both to it?" Felicia stands at the doorway of The Last Drop, arms folded across her chest.

"We're not flirting!"

"As if I'd ever flirt with them!"

Felicia snorts from the shelter of the bar and Vander peers over her shoulder, curious, before smiling and heads back inside.

"Well, once the both of you have had enough of playing in the rain, get back inside and shower while Vander and I prepare dinner." She gives an annoyed huff.

"Wait! The bag! Vegetables!" You flail your hands at Silco, gesturing towards the bag that sat on the wet ground. "Are they alright?"

"They would have been more alright if someone hadn't pushed me into a puddle." Silco bends over to pick the bag up, checking its contents. "Hmm they look alright."

"Vegetables? So that's what you were up to this morning? Bring them in, I'll use them for tonight's dinner." Felicia grins. "Oh but don't you dare set a foot anywhere near the counter, I just cleaned the area."

"Dibs on the shower!" You run towards the door, eager to get away from the cold of the rain and into the warmth of the bar but Silco shoves you aside with his shoulder, glowering at you.

"You? I should be the one showering first! You pushed me into the puddle!"

"You're too slow!"

"Me? Slow? Who's the one who takes forever in the shower because they're just stoning there?"

"As if you don't stone!"

"Not if I'm holding up the queue!"

"Maybe they should just take the shower together," Vander hums.

"No!" The both of you chorus together, causing Felicia to giggle.

"They do indeed argue like a married couple."

"We do not!" You glower at Silco, who glowers back and you flip him off again. He rolls his eyes, taking the opportunity to duck into the corridor that leads to the shower and leaves you momentarily confused, until you realise that he's going to be able to shower first whilst you shiver in your soaked clothes that cling to you like second skin.

"Silcooooo!"

[liiixsturniolos]

dealer!chris bratty!reader blurb

⋆.˚ You keep chris company on a deal. The drive is sooo long, and you decide to play a car game, a dirty one..resulting in chris almost crashing..

(oral male receiving, dangerous behaviour do NOT imitate)

warning! Do not do this. This is fiction! This would be so illegal irl!

"Chrissss.." You whine, twirling your hair around your pointer and middle finger. "Mhm?" He questions, focusing on the road, with his hands wrapped around the steering wheel. "I'm bored. When will we get there?" You ask, referring to excruciatingly long car journey you'd been on (only an hour) but to your dramatic mind that was forever.

"Bout twenty minutes more, baby." He mutters to you, turning his head toward you for a second, giving you a sweet smile and turning back to focus on driving.

"Ugh." You sigh, slumping back in your seat, pouting and twiddling with your fresh pink acrylics chris had just paid for. "Can we atleast play a car game or something.." you roll your eyes.

"Yeah." Chris responds with a giggle, glancing at your bratty pouting face. "Kayyy- let's look for all the red cars." You say. After about five minutes of you both counting red cars, you're again unbelievably bored, your short attention span can't handle it, until you get a better thought.

A bad thought, but more fun than the stupid car game. You slip your hand onto Chris' lap, moving closer to him and rubbing your hand over top of his length. "Let's play a new game." You chuckle. "Mmm-what you doing?" He asks, his eyes shifting between the road and your smirk.

You pull down his pants in a sudden movement, sliding down his underwear. You raise your eyebrows to him, before ducking your head down and and gliding your tongue along his slit.

"Shit!" He cries out, his hands twitching on the wheel. "Want me to keep going?" You ask him, rubbing your finger along him. "fuck-yeah." He responds as you push down your head again taking in his tip.

Your tongue sprawls across him. His driving becomes messier, swerving along the empty road. You continue to fuck him with your mouth, becoming sloppier and his hands struggling to grip the wheel, wanting to push down your head or pull your hair, he let's out deep grunts.

Bringing him to release, you swallow the warm cum that drips down your throat. "I almost crashed-" he starts, "fff-fuck." He stops as you take in his whole length, it hitting the back of your throat, and pulling it back out. "Was that more fun than the dumb game?" You tease. "Fuck yeah." He replies.

You lean back in your seat, wiping your mouth with your pretty new nails and fixing your hair, clicking open the little mirror above your seat as you re-apply your lipgloss.

Chris sits there in shock, his pants still down and continuing to drive the car, speechless as to what just happened, but happy about it.

I think the wildest thing about this fic is that Chris can actually drive... hope u liked this! If you did please consider interacting so ill keep posting. Thank youuuu!! And ask to be added to my taglist any time.

tags! @matthewsroses @chrislilcumslvt @pvssychicken @ivysturnss @mattsbitchh @sturniolo-fann @matts-myloverboy @emely9274 @sophand4n4 @uncannyguava @chrisfavoritewhore @certifiedstarrr

[jmliebert]

♡ little things that would make halsin fall harder for you♡

how lovely you look while throwing the ball for Scratch

how good you are at telling tales, and how many of them you actually know (he could listen to you for hours)

how you appreciate the simplest wonders of life

how you are an adventurer at heart, always ready for the new journey ahead

how you want to talk with every animal you encounter

how you play with his hair, braiding it, running your nails, through his scalp, making him feel utterly peaceful...

how your fingers gently trace his scars

how you desire him both; in his human form as well as in his bear form (if you know what I mean...)

how your eyes light up when he gives you the little wooden duck he whittled himself, especially for you (he's been working on it for so long!)

how you bring him jars of honey, just because once he mentioned to you he liked the taste very much

how you tell him he's rather big for an elf, am I? (he heard it many times before, but somehow with you it hits different)

how you keep asking him for more and more kisses (he can never deny)

how he catches you sneaking glances at him while he is training (making him want to train even harder hihi)

how you keep him on his toes with your witty banter

how you leap onto his back when he's in bear form, having an absolute blast (he's happy as well)

how you want to be his lover, yes- but most importantly his friend, someone he can confide in and trust (someone he didn't have for the longest time)

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

you can find more of my works about halsin ♡here♡

[arrowmance]

— 𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐭 𝐦𝐞 (𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮)

"the simple lesson that comes with life." content: solomon x gn! mc, repost!, fluff, running in the rain.

You wished you could've predicted everything.

The little splatter of droplets against the cement synced perfectly with the sound of your shoes splashing across tiny puddles. Your grip on Solomon's turtleneck tightened, ducking your head beneath his cape.

The sorcerer must've felt your nails digging into the black fabric, as his eyes looked down towards you.

"Shhh, we'll be fine," he whispered, pulling you closer towards his chest.

"Almost there."

The rain continued on, each drop stinging like tiny needles against your skin. Breath hitching; the cold biting wind whipped around as you both ran. The world blurred into a smear of gray and shadow, only there were sounds the pounding of your hearts against the deafening 'splash' of downpour.

He kept a firm grip on your hand, searching for any sign of shade. Cover. Shelter. Anything to secure the both of you. The road beneath you was slick with mud and water, threatening to betray your footing with every step. Solomon wouldn’t let that happen — not now.

How long had it been? It felt like forever. Finding a place for refuge was difficult enough, yet to do it under the harsh Devildom conditions? Only a miracle would grant you leverage to not get sick.

But moments are unpredictable, much like the weather.

Just minutes ago you both were taking a leisurely stroll out in the city square. Then, you were looking through windows as one or the other shared their latest rants or what-ifs. Even the weather wanted to gossip, yet the couldn't hold their excitement any longer.

You felt his breath hitch. Only ever getting a glimpse of the cherry red aluminum roof, but in fleeting seconds you were both in safety.

While a waiting shed is not the most optimal place, it was better than nothing. You carefully peeked out of his cloak, feeling his hands wrap the fabric around your body.

Solomon was shivering. The only reassurance was a small, weak smile.

"I told you," he said with a tiny smirk.

Yet that didn't attempt to hide how breathless he felt. The white-haired man pants, hands on his knees, before collapsing down on one of the red chairs. Utterly Drenched.

You felt bad, but you also couldn't ignore the gush of wind pressing against your skin. Although, it doesn't take a genius to look at yourself.

Your clothes, while crinkled and shriveled up from the constant running, were still dry. In fact, you never felt more than an ounce of water touch anywhere near you: skin, fabric, hair, accessories. . .

Until then.

His clothes clung to his body, his hair and skin dripping wet as droplets sink towards the white tiles. Small shaky breathes escape his lips; a moment to pause. His shoes were stained by the mud, and you could see the drops form small puddles beneath his chair.

He did, didn't he?

You frowned, sitting beside him as you drape his cloak over his shoulders. He was baffled, grey eyes widened at your action. "What are you doing? Hey, you should put it back," he said.

But as soon as Solomon tried to wrap the cloth around you, you gripped his wrist. "You need it more."

He wanted to protest, but he knew how stubborn you got. That pout on your face signifies that you aren't backing down. Solomon sighs, before giving a small chuckle. "Alright, if that's what you want."

You smiled in victory as you sat together. Beneath a shared roof, gazing back at the rain. The subtle smell of dew filled the air, as the clattering down of water against metal filled the otherwise silence.

Once was a foe to your walking journey had turned into an almost endearing sight. While annoying in the past, you felt calmer.

With a deep breath, you rest you head against Solomon's shoulder. The wizard shifts his position, humming along with a hand on your arm.

"When will this end?" you asked, looking up at him with those eyes he'll forever get lost in.

He shook his head, looking back at the rain. "I don't know."

You only huffed in response. Rain never went away, a melodrama of emotions. The intensity, direction, sounds: all would think that rain was a frightening sight. But at the end of it all, even if it coated the both of you a near trip to illness— you couldn't deny how. . .

You asked again, your fingers intertwining with his. "Can we stay like this?" you said, eyes still on the rain.

You may not know what Solomon was doing, yet the faint kiss he gave your knuckles sent a serene wave of comfort throughout your system. He cooed, his free hand gently caressing your cheek.

"Of course."

Perhaps there was something beautiful with the unknown.

© 𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 2024. do not copy, modify, or repost any work as your own.

[hier--soir]

sun don't set

ellie williams x f!reader

rating: sfw, not explicit summary: life in the little house is calm - quiet. days pass in a blur of fruit and sunshine and companionship. slow mornings, afternoons, and evenings. ellie is slowly rediscovering her love for music, and on that journey, she writes a song about you. warnings/tags: late twenties ellie, set years after the events of tlou2, no spoilers or discussions of plot points in tlou2 - except perhaps the description of an old injury but the way it happened isn't described, established wlw relationship, food and eating, brief description of skinning animals for food, soft soft soft ellie. word count: 1.3k masterlist a/n: this short little thing poured out of me after a nice sunny day and it's maybe one of the softest, sweetest things i've ever written. a slice of life type thing based on the happy ending i hope ellie got x [ALSO the song ellie sings is ronnie's song by odie leigh]

The little house lives in the basin of a valley, circled by sycamore boughs and juniper bushes.

A shallow stream trickles close by.

In the mornings, you eat berries drizzled in honey, sipping warm tea while watching the water. The air is still and quiet, filled only with the sounds of the dribbling brook and teeth sinking into ripe fruit. The first rays of sun arrive and they are safe and warm against your skin, and time moves slowly. Gently.  

You sit on the patio in chairs that she built. Ones that creak and whimper as your weight settles upon them; rickety wood and worn old nails. On the armrest, hers or yours, fingers catch and hold. Thumbs and indexes and pinkies looped together.

In the afternoons, she peels an orange. Spindly fingers tear thick skin, pulling apart perfect segments of flesh – one for you, one for her, one for you, one for her. Together you bite and chew and swallow, jaws and mouths and teeth working in sync. In the silence, you relish the feeling of tasting this together. That burst of juice across your tongues. Wisps of pulp that catch in the cracks of your incisors.

When it’s warm you splay out on the grass, stretching and purring like two cats in the sun. She’s a calico, splotches of white and brown and beige, and you’re a tabby, mottled streaks of burnt orange – wiling away what’s left of your nine lives together.

In the evenings, she returns from her walk. Some days empty handed, others with rabbit or duck or deer trailing behind her. On those days you sit with your knees pressed together, sharp knives peeling back hair and skin and feathers. You eat as the air turns cooler and the sun sets over the hill, an almost endless—always wondrous—burst of oranges and pinks that taint the sky before it turns to black.

Often, you turn in first. Tuck yourself away inside the little house, swathed in blankets; keeping her side of the bed warm. Alone, she reaches for the guitar. Takes it outside and closes the door behind her, so that those soft melodies won’t carry to your ears. With heavy eyelids, your ears pique and strain, eager to listen. But she must stray further than the patio, for you never hear a thing.

Time passes and she joins you soon enough. Her long limbs coil around yours beneath the covers; cold toes press into the skin of your calves. Her hand on your back, those fingers tracing a tickling portrait. The tip of your nose rests in the base of her neck and you breathe in the scent of pine and rosemary and honey on her skin. In the darkness, sinking into her warmth, you feel tenderness thicken the lining of your throat. And together you sleep; at peace knowing that another morning awaits you.

Ellie found the guitar in your fourth year together. Deep brown, layered in dust, the sound hole and fretboard decorated with cobwebs. She didn’t say a word as she slung it over her back and carried it the entire way to the little house. Didn’t offer any explanation when she stashed it away in an empty room. And when you caught her one night, long after sunset, wiping away the dust and tightening the strings, you didn’t ask any questions. Didn’t ask if she was thinking about him – you already knew the answer.  

“It’s hard,” she told you one morning, lips and chin shining with berry juice. “Learning how to play again. How to play… like this.”

Your fingers ghost over the palm of her left hand, splayed on the armrest of her chair. Tracing lines and scars on pale skin until you reach the shortened stumps of her ring and pinkie finger.

“Sometimes the hardest things,” you pick up her hand and lay a soft kiss to each finger, lingering a little longer on those two. “Are the things most worth doing.”

She hums a short response, eyes trained on where your lips touch her skin. Then her hand cups your jaw and brings your face to meet hers, and she smears the taste of blueberries into your mouth.

It’s not until a morning in your fifth year together that you hear it for the first time.

She wanders in from the chicken coop, white and brown eggs cradled in the well of her palms. The wind tousles that short auburn hair, loosening it from behind her ears, and carries her voice through the door to you.

“She’s my… I’m… she’s a coffee cup, I’m tea.”

Your fingers still against the page of your book, and you glance up as she walks through the door, still murmuring under her breath.

“What’s that?” you smile.

“Eggs?” She holds them up, eyebrows pinched defensively—secretively.  

“Ellie,” you laugh. Dog ear the page of your book and tuck it away on the kitchen counter. She nestles the eggs carefully into a bowl and sidles up beside you, hooking an ankle neatly around yours.

“It’s nothing,” her nose brushes against the apple of your cheek, lips chapped and dry from the morning air as they lay a kiss to your jaw. “How do you want your eggs? I’ll make a fire.”

Months pass after that, and you hear it as she bathes. Hear it as she hangs your socks on the clothesline.

“She’s the salt,” she sings faintly. “And I’m the sea.”

Hear it as she builds her arrows, hunched over the table, tired fingers fiddling. Hear it grumbled through a mouthful of mint as she brushes her teeth.

“She’s a dog, and I’m her fleas.”  

One day in Summer you walk together, following that little stream all the way to the lake. You hear it then too. Softly, under her breath, your hand held loosely in hers as the sun turns her shoulders pink.

“If she’s creamer, then I’m jooooe,” the voice you love purrs, her thin lips pursing and parting as she drags out the vowel. “Sun don’t set, wherever we go.”

And then one night, as the two of you sit admiring the sky and all of its pinks and blues and yellows and oranges, you abandon your chair for hers. Slink two steps across the patio and into her lap, welcoming the way her arms drape around your shoulders. She kisses the bone at the top of your spine, the sloping side of your neck, and watches the sky from over your shoulder.

And then she sings quietly, her voice a delicate and hoarse thing against the back of your head.

“She’s a pistol.” A breath in and a breath out. “I’m a bow.”

“Is that from your song?” you ask, voice a hushed whisper. Scared to break the softness of the moment; the sunset trance that rests in a warm shroud over the patio.  

“Hmm?” she murmurs. You feel her lips trail the shell of your ear, the edge of your jaw. You shiver and go lax in her lap.

“Will you sing me your song?” you say louder, eyes focused on the waning horizon.

“My song?” Ellie laughs. One of her hands slips from your shoulder to play with the hairs at the nape of your neck. Twisting a strand around her finger and tugging gently. “It’s your song, babe.”

“Well, I’d like to hear it,” you murmur, and you can hear the smile in your own voice. “Properly, I mean.” Feel the heat that rises in your neck at the mere thought of it. Your song.  

“What about…” she says, fingers thrumming a beat against your stomach now. “What if I sing it for you in the morning? I think it’ll be warm. Sunny. We can see if those strawberries you planted are ready to eat.”

You consider it for a moment—her lips stained pink; eyes bright as she croons your song in the morning sunshine.  

“With the guitar too?”

A pause.

“With the guitar,” she agrees.

You nod once and turn to kiss her. Smile into her mouth.

“Okay,” you whisper. “Strawberries and my song in the morning.”

thank you for reading! x

[ariseur]

This is a stupid request so iUEOE IF U DONT LIKE IT ITS FINE but . A cloud x reader where Cloud, even after months from the start of their relationship, keeps getting a bit flustered, all blushy, whenever he gets kissed? ITS STUPID ITS LILE. IT COULD BE A DRABBLE TBH CAUSE ITS YEAH. BUT YEAH . Sow wy.

red kisses 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

cloud strife x fem!reader

┊ ˚➶ notes ｡˚ 🎼

ughhh this request was so cute!! i made it into a fic instead because i just had some ideas :) hope you guys enjoy 💕!!

┊ ˚➶ warnings ｡˚ 🎼

mentions of kissing, cloud gets flustered, intended lowercase, tifa teasing cloud for having a big fat crush on you, reader is referred to as clouds girlfriend, lmk if i missed anything!!

┊ ˚➶ word count ｡˚ 🎼

1186 words, 6519 characters

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄

“shit!” you yelled, ducking under the rapid gunfire on the shinra infantryman. your hand reached for your sword before a gloved hand came to stop you. eyebrows furrowed, you looked back at cloud who just shook his head before pulling out his buster sword and stepping out into the gunfire, using his weapon as a shield from the bullets as they ricocheted off the metal.

you watched in awe as he cleared out the group. you knew he was always good at his job but seeing him in action never failed to make your jaw drop.

“hey, you comin’ or not?” he called out for you, his extended leather clad hand beckoned you after the coast was clear while numerous infantrymen laid on the ground unconscious below him. snapping out of your thoughts, you peeked your head out from behind the storage container and jogged your way towards him, beaming.

“my hero.” you extolled, leaning closer to lay a quick chaste kiss on cloud’s cheek before skipping over towards a metal door, eager to continue your mission. he made a noise of surprise, hand ghosting over where your lips had touched his face as a shade of pink tinted his freckled skin. his eyes followed your footsteps as he turned around and caught up with you, quickly following behind just in case you were caught off guard. you couldn’t help but smile as you heard him pitter-patter after you.

you definitely noticed the faint blush on his cheeks when he returned, and thus began your journey to flush cloud whenever given the chance to.

more time had passed, and cloud had actually gotten to know you. even if you never let him forget that one instance on the mission to the mako reactor.

and here cloud sat— in a bar stool at seventh heaven drinking the strongest of whatever tifa’s got while she talked about the newest mission avalanche was planning. she cut herself off mid-sentence, noticing how cloud continued to swirl his drink around while his eyes stayed glued to the ripples created in the glass, mind clearly elsewhere.

she put her arms behind her back as she leaned forward and tried to get his attention. “cloud?” she called, causing his eyes to peer back up at her. he made a small ‘hm’ sound in response.

“what’cha thinkin’ about?” she asked, inquisitive smile still painted on her face as usual. resting her arms on the wooden bar countertop, she watched as cloud contemplated to say what was really on his mind right now. he exhaled through his nostrils as he took another sip of the red liquid in his glass, “nothing.”

tifa’s brows raised as she finally understood. “so,” she began, “thinkin’ about your girlfriend, huh?”

“what makes you say that?”

“every time she’s around you, i never hear any of that ‘hard-ass’ complaining you’re always doing, as wedge would call it.” she grins, now knowing she hit the head right on the nail. “it’s like she placates you.”

“‘m just tired, that’s all.” he huffed, throwing his head back and downing the liquid as a weak attempt to try and hide the growing blush that grew across his face.

tifa simply laughed, standing up straight and greeting marlene as she walked in through the double doors with her dad, squealing about whatever new things she found today. always so excited to explore even in the slums of midgar. he placed a few coins on the bar counter as a payment for the drink, walking out of the bar and praying that tifa didn’t notice the money on the counter in hopes that she wouldn’t try and sneak it in his room like last time.

as for your new “mission” of trying to fluster cloud, it grew harder for him to ignore as everyday you’d press a kiss to his jaw or his hand or even the tip on his nose. he started to take his behavior into consideration after what tifa said. did he really act all that different around you?

your goal started making more progress as time went on and your relationship got more serious. often, your invites to your place ended up just being a torture chamber for him as you had managed to root yourself deep within his brain. he couldn’t get you out, and although he acted like he didn’t care, it haunted him. you were everywhere around him. but maybe, he thought, just maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing to get close to someone.

he’d look at marlene and his mind would think back to you. the way you’d sit with her and talk to her about her weird dreams where she’d become a dolphin or something like that. barret would throw a glare at him and all cloud could think about was how you mentioned how barret scares the absolute shit out of you. you were everywhere, your presence, your perfume, your—

“hellooo—?” earth to cloud?” your hand came into view, once again snapping cloud out of his thoughts. he hummed.

“space out there?” you smiled at him, and ugh, that smile. it made him feel obnoxiously warm. he never got used to those butterflies that would travel along his stomach, even if you guys had been together for a while.

he huffed as he looked away, lolling his against the soft pillows you had on your bed. “yeah, uh.. yeah.” he finally said, eyes trailing off as he narrowed his eyes at shinra’s public service announcement that broadcasted on tv. cloud let out quiet groan at the man’s face and turned it off, the remote dropping from his hand and onto the blanket as he turned back to you.

“you always seem to glow, cloud. did you know that?” you blurt out, finger tracing the taut muscles of his arm.

“well.. maybe it’s just because of the mako—? SOLDIER, remember?”

“no, not like that,” you giggle behind your hand, “i’m just saying i think you’re handsome, cloud.” that makes him let out a small noise of surprise, stiffening as he’s unsure what to say next.

“oh.” he said, ears heating up as he looked away from your intense gaze. he crossed his arms, trying to avoid the way your head craned to try and see his face.

“and you’re so fit,” you lifted a finger up with each compliment you listed, just trying to get a rise out of cloud, “and intelligent, and sweet, and—“

“okay, i think that’s enough.” he must’ve been flushed right now, he though.

“and you’re just so breathtaking.”

“you are such a liar.”

you dramatically feigned offense, putting a hand on your chest as your jaw dropped. “how dare you assume such things about me? i am simply loving my boyfriend, is that such a crime?”

he scoffed as a weak smile made its way to his face, “you’re loving torturing your boyfriend, there’s a difference.” however, his eyes widened as he felt your lips press against his jaw. he gave you a pointed glare, “see what i mean?”

“oh hush, you love it.”

[beansprean]

🎶take myyy hand / take my whoooole liiiife toooo🎶

My Familiar’s Ghost part 45

Masterpost

(ID in alt and under cut)

ID: 1a. Close up on Nandor from the front on the beige background of the Panera break room. He ducks chin and screws his eyes shut, shaking his head quickly as if to dislodge unpleasant thoughts. He continues his sentence from part 44: '-But that does not matter anymore!' 1b. Repeat. Nandor ceases his shaking but keeps his head down, eyes opening to stare off down and left, an anxious resolve creasing his brow. He says, 'I am willing to act as your sire now. To start you off on the right path in your vampiric journey.' 1c. Close up on Nandor's right hand from the side as he lifts it, palm up, as if requesting a dance. The panel splits in a strike of diagonal white light, turning to sepia tones as we go back 14 years one more time. There is a close up of past Nandor's left hand in the same position, reaching from the opposite side of the panel. In the present, Nandor says, 'So please...' In the past, Nandor continues his sentence, 'Come home with me...' 1d. Knees up in sepia tones of past Guillermo and past Nandor facing each other in profile on a lightening beige background. Nandor is holding his hand out, lips curling faintly in a confident and reassuring smile as he finishes, '...and in time, I will make you a vampire.' Guillermo stares up at him with reverent eyes and parted lips, cheeks flushed and hands clutched together over his stomach.

2a. Close up again of past Nandor's hand reaching out from the right, this time with past Guillermo's hand reaching from the other side, placing his fingers into Nandor's as they curl together, pact sealed. 2b. Back to the present - close up on Nandor's hand reaching out from the left. From the right, a large splinter of wood flies into frame and buries itself into the back of Nandor's hand, splitting through his palm as he curls his wrist back with a shout of pain. 2c. Close up on vampire Guillermo's left hand in the foreground, dangling at his side and adjusting its grip on a second stake. The stake is already stained with someone else's blood and his nails are sharpened to claws. In the background, Nandor stands stooped over, clutching the wrist of his wounded hand, which is now freely bleeding. He looks up at Guillermo in startled disbelief, question marks and anxious sweat popping up around his head. He stutters, ' Wh-what? Why-?!' The background darkens behind him. 2d. Knees up on vampire Guillermo, dark brown background spattered with dark red like old blood. A shadow slashes diagonally across his face as he drops into a predatory stance, right hand raised and curled to bare his claws and left hand clutching a stake at the ready. His steady eyes, having never left Nandor for a moment, glow a burning orange as he snarls, grinning at the prospect of a chase. Offscreen, Nandor shouts desperately, 'Guillermo?!' /end ID

[spnbangbang]

Werewolf and the Vamp

Author: queerwerewolf

Artist: sidewinder

Primary Ship: Garth Fitzegerald IV/Benny Lafitte

Other Ships: Past Dean Winchester/Benny Lafitte, Past Garth Fitzgerald IV/Bess Fitzgerald, Implied Castiel/Dean Winchester

Length: 10,098

Warnings: Canon Typical Violence

Tags: Canon Compliant Through Season 15 Episode 10, Canon Divergent/Adjacent, Finale Fix It, You're Welcome, Romance, Smut, Handjobs, Oral Sex, Outdoor Sex, Anal Sex, No Prep, Unsafe Sex, Top Garth/Bottom Benny, Werepire Lovin’, Yes the Title is Meant to Remind You of Lady and the Tramp, Love is a Battlefield, Literally

Posting Date: November 22, 2024

Summary The world is coming to an end, Chuck has gone full blown cartoon villain, and is destroying every universe in a temper tantrum of epic proportions. The Winchester brothers may have a solution, which includes a very special ingredient from Purgatory. The blood of a creature that has been sent to Purgatory twice. It just so happens, Dean knows a vampire with those exact qualifications.

When Garth is asked to go to Purgatory to find this vampire and help the Winchesters face off with the biggest bad of them all, he isn’t the type to say no, especially when every universe is on the line. What Garth doesn’t expect is to find so much more than a world saving ingredient. Excerpt “So, what I’m hearin’ is, you’re single?”

To Benny’s pleasant surprise, Garth’s response was damned adorable, his cheeks coloring a rich red as his heart rate spiked. He cleared his throat and simply nodded, again ducking Benny’s gaze. “Yeah, I… I guess I am.”

With a soft huff of laughter, Benny pursed his lips in amusement. “Don’t you worry, I was just askin’. Meant nothin’ by it.”

Another surprise; Garth then appeared a little disappointed from the journey of his facial expressions. A worried lip that released with a small bounce, turning into an almost pout before his features were schooled to a more neutral position. “Ye–yeah… Of course. I knew that.” The intonation was the first time Benny heard a lack of confidence and assuredness this wolf seemed to exude without any damn effort.

Benny kept his gaze trained on Garth for a beat. Time really was strange in Purgatory, what would simply be a handful of seconds, could feel like minutes… hours even. There was a strained tension in the air, and not just because this place was crawling with cretins and leviathan. Finally, Benny said, “If you want me to’ve meant somethin’ by it, I ain’t opposed.”

Garth’s eyebrows popped up to that ugly hat brim and he quickly pulled the thing from his head, bracing it over his lap as those baby blues widened. His fangs grew a little and Benny could hear the rhythm of his elevated heart rate. It reminded him of a sea shanty from a life once lived. “You… what?”

Damn, Benny really did love him a dense beauty. He leaned in close, using his elongated nails to gently rake them along Garth’s pulse point before he drew him closer by the palm of his hand. “Like I said, I ain’t opposed,” Benny murmured as he closed the gap between them. The kiss was chaste, permission seeking, because while body language hinted at Garth being accommodating, he still hadn’t heard a consensual yes.

Just as Benny was about to draw back, Garth gasped against his lips and wrapped his arms about Benny’s neck, giving him opportunity to deepen the kiss, vampire tongue wrestling with werewolf tongue as they began to explore each other. While this wasn’t Benny’s first time kissing a man, or kissing a visitor from another dimension even… It was his first time kissing a werewolf.

Now, perhaps it was his learned prejudices from his clan’s own misconceptions about werewolves, or perhaps the mere fact that they turned into actual wolves… But Benny had expected a little more of a sloppy kiss. Instead he got an ardent urgency that caused a tingle through a bloodstream that hadn’t flowed since he kissed sweet death all those centuries ago. Garth’s soft lips, tasting of a sweet spiciness that rivaled fresh blood, parted like a split open fig.

Benny’s hands found their way into short, scruffy hair, and he tugged the wolf even closer. The world around them faded into the bland grays and blacks of the eternal background of a supposedly purifying plane. Benny found himself a little lost, nary a breadcrumb in sight, but he felt anything but fear. When he drew back with a soft gasp, he was met with such a vision, Garth, expression dazed with dilated pupils and kiss swollen lips. Beautiful.

[lemonbeemon]

AOT Ship Prompts; Riding on the same horse:

Feel free to reblog or comment additions of your own. These ideas are also free to use for fanart or fanfic if you so choose.

EreMika

The first time they ride together, Mikasa has her hands clasped like a steel trap around Eren’s stomach. She's not totally confident that he won't get them both thrown off, since he's too impulsive and indecisive with how he steers the horse.

After Mikasa gets more comfortable, and Eren has more experience on horseback, she's comfortable enough to rest her head against his shoulder while they ride. If they're out late or she's hurt, it's not uncommon for her to be asleep by the end of their journey.

When Mikasa’s in charge of the horse, Eren is like a little kid who can't sit still. He doesn't hesitate to hold onto her waist as he eggs on Jean or throws out cocky remarks at titans. Often leading so far over or back that Mikasa has to remind him to sit still before he falls off. Eren always gets off the horse first, to the point where he's likely to trip on the stirrups and take Mikasa down with him.

AruAni

They're both extremely awkward. When Annie's in charge of the horse, Armin refuses to hold onto her. Instead he has a death grip on the saddle in a desperate attempt to not fall off.

Annie likes to push her horse to its fastest speed. Leaping over every rock and fallen tree in her path without hesitation. In the training corps, she was given the hardest gelding to handle because he only listened to her. When it was time to join the MP's she was very sad to leave him behind.

Armin's horse is the complete opposite of Annie’s. She's a sweet mare that likes to chew on his hair/sweaters whenever its his turn to clean out the stables. When Armin's steering, he's always careful to not jostle the horse too much. Annie acts indifferent when she sits behind him, but often ducks down behind his shoulder to hide how pink her cheeks are. Whenever Reiner rides past them, he always slows down long enough to tease her.

JeanMarco

Jean's a natural on horseback. He's never been thrown and recovers quickly when his horse startles. Unfortunately, all that control is lost the minute he's not in the saddle. With his chosen horses always refusing to come back for him in favor of rolling in the grass or taking treats from others. When his horse runs off, Marco is always there to help him get it back.

The two work seamlessly together on horseback, with Marco usually being in charge of calling out potential hurdles or incoming enemies. They've mastered transferring the reins to each other, as well as transitioning from siting in the saddle to flying off on ODM Gear. Marco happily rides in the back most of the time, admitting that he's a better strategist than rider.

Marco always has treats on him for his horse and Jean's. Whenever its their turn to clean out the stables, Marco considers it to be the highlight of his week. Once Marco’s gone, Jean realizes it was the highlight of his too.

ReiBert

Awkward. To the point that it just doesn't work. Bertholdt is too tall and Reiner is already almost too heavy for most of the corps horses. The last time they tried it, Bertholdt fell off and broke his wrist.

Instead, the two decide it's better to ride side by side. Reiner always pulls Bertholdt off on remote trails to the point that they both get back home way later than everybody else. Something he always apologizes for by pulling Bertholdt out of his own saddle for a quick kiss.

When the cadets are forced to ride in pairs, ReiBert are always paired off with YumiHisu. Reiner (especially the soldier) has no problem riding with Historia. Bertholdt however, nearly gets strangled or yanked off his own horse by Ymir everytime. Somehow, neither of them ever notice how the scratches he recieves from her nails are gone by the end of every ride.

YumiHisu

A literal princess and her knight. Even when Ymir has the reins, Historia sits in front of her on their horse. Ymir loves the closeness, but is usually blinded by Historia's hair in the wind until she stubbornly undoes her own hair to pull up Historia's with her tie.

After Ymir's gone, Historia can't stand how cold her back feels whenever she's on a horse. When her daughter's old enough to learn to ride, its the first time since Ymir left that Historia feels happy to be in the saddle.

And that's all I have so far. Might add more in the reblogs later but this is already an old draft, so I figured better to post it now than let it rot in the metaphysical closet.

[sporesgalaxy]

what's uppppp I have some backstory writing for Pierre I've been fiddling with for aaagesss & I mostly like where it's at now. so I show you :)

short life history intro + Devil Fruit aquisition origin + little blurb from on the way to the Grand Line. enjoyyyy

warnings: animal death, bfrb (nail chewing)

•••

Tiny Pierra lets ants crawl all over her. She watches them tear apart a dying grasshopper in the garden, piece by piece.

Pierra looks with wonder in her eyes at a rotting fish covered with maggots. At a dead baby bird that fell from its nest too soon. At a bag full of bloody ducks her father shot.

Pierra gets too upset sometimes, and too frightened frequently. Pierra hides as often as possible.

When Pierra starts getting big, she wishes she was still small. She used to like squeezing into tight spaces; inside a box, under a small desk, under a bed. She doesn't fit anymore. Sometimes she feels like she's stopped fitting anywhere at all.

Pierra sneaks into places she is not supposed to be when she's alone, just to look around. Just to hear the silence.

Pierra takes food she is not supposed to eat, just to get away with it. Just to test how far she can go without being noticed. Just to be unnoticed on purpose.

When Pierra is 16, she goes to the market with her mother. While her mother speaks to someone, Pierra breaks off a tiny piece of the most interesting fruit at the stand. No one notices her do it this time. Pierra chews and swallows the piece of fruit, and it tastes bad, but Pierra is pleased to have learned what it tastes like without permission.

Later that evening, alone in her room, Pierra thinks she is dreaming, or maybe losing her mind. She wonders half-heartedly if the fruit was poisonous and she's dying. Then, she does what she always does when she thinks she is losing her mind: distracts herself and waits for it to pass.

It passes, eventually, but this won't be the last time. She learns that it's not madness, but the curse of a Devil. She learns she can't swim anymore. She prays for forgiveness. She tells nobody.

When Pierra gets too upset and admits it her mother a year later, she is begged never to transform again. To hide it forever, for her own safety. Human traffickers could be anywhere, her mother says, and Devil Fruit users fetch a high price. Pierra promises to keep hiding. Pierra wonders if it will be easier now, having someone who understands.

Pierra's mother goes back to acting like nothing ever happened. It doesn't get much easier.

----

Pierra Piper is currently one of many passengers on a large Navy escort vessel, which is in the process of entering the Grand Line through the Calm Belt. Pierra is trying very hard not to look at the water or think about Sea Kings. Her nose is buried resolutely in a short book.

The book isn't exactly comforting, though; it's about a man who transforms into a bug and finds himself useless and helpless and burdensome to his family, unable to continue working at his job or caring for himself. Pierra knew the book was about this, and chose to read it anyway. She reminds herself of that as she bravely turns the page rather than closing it.

It still feels surreal that Pierra is making a once-in-a-lifetime journey into the dangerous waters of the Grand Line for something as droll as her lab assistant job.

Pierra digs her nail into the book's spine restlessly.

She wonders if somehow, the Marines who interviewed her had known. Had been able to tell, just by looking at her, that she's been cursed by a Devil Fruit. Maybe there's some dead giveaway that she just doesn't know about.

More realistically, Pierra had been chosen for transfer despite her inexperience simply because she's big. She isn't especially athletic, but maybe being 7 and a half feet tall was deterrent enough for some pirates. Or maybe it was about being sturdy and able to reach things in a large laboratory.

Pierra chews her thumbnail and makes a great effort not to think about the sorts of biological research experiments she's read about the World Government allegedly subjecting prisoners to, or just how many prisoners the Marines have access to on the Grand Line. Those reports might not even be true. Pierra's thumb begins to bleed.

She wishes she had turned this job down. She wishes her mother hadn't been so encouraging despite the danger. She wishes her dad hadn't sounded so happy for her. She wishes the job didn't pay so much. She wishes it didn't promise a free return trip in 6 months. She hopes she'll meet a rich Zoologist while she's on the Grand Line.

[sustinentiae-spei]

Bri's LOTR Musical Memories Part 2

Featuring a blurry picture of me hey-daying with Legolas aka Tilbert Bracegirdle aka my third cousin twice removed on his father's side.

Part 1: here.

Can we talk about that opening scene in Bag End?

Sam is so pure. He sounds so earnest as he talks about all his gardening plans.

Frodo's enthusiasm. The man literally hops off whatever he was sitting on. "My [hop] feet have got a journey longing!" And the actual longing in his voice as he talks about wanting to see the mountains and beyond. I truly believe that he is Bilbo's nephew.

When Rosie showed up and she and Sam had their whole exchange about what food they were excited for...Sam's little "Oh" was almost, dare I say it, sexual. The tension was very real. Real enough that Frodo stood there just awkwardly looking back and forth from one to the other and it was such an obvious third-wheeling scenario that everyone cracked up.

The hey-daying is, of course, adorable.

The affection between Gandalf and Frodo was so obvious. The way Spencer always ducked a little to hug Gandalf, to emphasize the height distance between them, while essentially body-slamming Gandalf, was so perfect.

Gandalf's explanation was fantastic. He was grim but not grouchy. He knew he was relaying bad information and he knew he had to do it very quickly and I've seen their conversation described as two people who are clearly very used to having a teacher-student sort of relationship, and that is so true. Frodo was so respectful with his listening and his questions, but also Gandalf seemed respectful in his explanation. He clearly respected Frodo enough to tell him some scary stuff.

Sam's evesdropping! He popped his head over the fireplace and was hauled bodily into the rest of the room and it was so cute.

Sam backing desperately into Frodo in fear of being turned into something, and Frodo laughing and clearly not being concerned, yet putting his arm around Sam and giving him a reassuring arm-rub all the same, just nailed one of my favorite things about Frodo and Sam: they are very different people, but they care about each other so much. Sam trusts Frodo to protect him from a wizard, and Frodo is caring enough to reassure Sam even though he doesn't believe for a minute that Sam is in any danger.

When they decide to go Adventuring, both of them seem so excited. It's quite a deliberate difference from the movies and it's fun. We get to see a more lighthearted (and very bouncy) Frodo, and we get to see more of what their friendship looks like when they're not under duress, and that's Important.

Their overly-exaggerated "After you, Mr. Frodo" / "Why, thank you, Sam" was such a sweet way to add a bit of comedy (and show the depth of their friendship) with a line that could otherwise have been played perfectly straight, and it is one example among many of the actors choosing to go above and beyond with the script.

[justalonelybitch]

Luxurious Love, Lust & Lies

Chapter Three ~ Curiousity Kills

~ Series Masterlist ~

A twisted tale of the young and rich attending an elite private academy for academic scholars, the finest athletes and aristocrats. Follow these upperclassmen on a journey to uncovering the dark secrets their academy has fought tooth and nail to conceal from the public. No one will make it out unscathed, for everyone is at risk of falling for the deceiving facades of those around them.

Multiple K-pop Love Interests x F!Reader

“Do you hear that?” Mr Kim’s mistress whispered, pulling away from his embrace with a look of panic reflecting in her eyes. He quickly shook his head, too caught up in the moment, rushing back to press his lips to her once more, addicted to the taste of her lips. But she pushed him back, sinking her teeth into her bottom lip with growing concern, glancing around the area. The faint whistled tune in the distance alarming her, eyes widening as she shooed him away, forcing him to take a look.

Upon hearing their panicked whispers, you picked up your pace, rounding the corner of an old school building. Assessing the area with a sense of panic, your eyes flickered towards an conveniently opened window glancing into one of the abandoned classrooms. Upon hearing what was undoubtedly Mr Kim’s heavy footfall as his shoes scuffed along the dirt path, leaves crunching beneath his feet, your brows furrowed contemplatively. Heaving a sigh, you reluctantly climbed through the window, rushing to pull it shut and duck out of sight just before Mr Kim could reach you. You released a breath of relief upon observing him wander past carelessly, completely unaware of your presence.

Once you were sure the coast was clear, you reached forwards to push the window back open, but much to your dismay, it wouldn’t budge. Taking a moment to glance around the room, you scrunch your nose up at the dust covered desks and cobwebs that had crept out from the corners. “Gross,” you muttered upon catching sight of magnets swarming around what looked to be rotten fruit and someone’s mouldy old sandwich. Pausing, you debated options, opting against breaking the door open, that would draw too much attention. Inhaling sharply, you traipsed towards the classroom door, prepared to further explore the building.

Your brows raised in curiosity upon catching sight of a faint change in dust patterns along the tiled floor. Head tilting in confusion, you squinted in the darkness, eyes lighting up in realisation. Someone had been here recently. Following the indistinct trail, you found yourself venturing further into the old building, ignoring the eerie silence. The faint flicker of light that inconsistently lit up under the door of a locked storage room raised the hairs on the back of your neck. Picking up the pace, you skipped up the stairs, struggling to follow the near invisible footprints in the darkness. You resisted the urge to shout in surprise as quiet music crackled to life on the speakers.

Briskly walking up the final steps, you arrived in front of a barricaded door that led to the roof. Only the wood was broken by an undeniably strong force, wind blowing the door ajar with a loud creak that left you wincing. You hesitantly stepped forward, slipping through the gap and coming face to face with a cloud of smoke. Suppressing a cough, your gaze darted to the source, brows furrowing as you were greeted by a familiar leather jacket clad back. “Jeon Soyeon?” You questioned into the darkness, approaching your classmate who sat on the ledge, legs dangling in the breeze.

“Kim Y/n,” she hummed in acknowledgement, not sparing you a glance as she stared into the distance, joint between her lips. “I thought I told you that was bad for your health,” you muttered, swinging your legs over the edge, occupying the space beside her. “You did,” Soyeon merely turned to you with an uninterested stare, lips parting as she blew the smoke into your face. Scrunching your nose up in dissatisfaction, you shook your head in amusement, holding your hand out expectantly. Huffing, she handed over the joint, her mouth tugging up in a proud smirk as you brought it to your lips. 

She chuckled in amusement, punching your shoulder with her ring clad fingers. “What about all that health crap?” She asked, shoving her hands into her pockets as the wind picked up.  “It’s bullshit,” you huffed, gently massaging your throbbing forehead. “I’m glad you’ve finally come to your senses,” Soyeon smirked, tugging the joint from your lips. “Just when I was beginning to think you were boring,” she hummed, ignoring the faux offence that graced your face. “Rude,” you grumbled, crossing your arms over your chest. You perked up at the faint sound of rustling leaves, forgetting all previous thoughts.

Glancing down to the ground, you squinted, struggling to make out a faint silhouette in the darkness. “What is it?” Soyeon asked, following your gaze curiously. “Not sure yet, hand me your phone.” She rolled her eyes at the absurd demand, but nevertheless she passed over the battered device. Tapping away at the screen, you open the text chain between you and Soyeon before clicking the camera icon. Leaning over the edge eagerly, you zoomed in, snapping a picture and sending it to yourself. A rough grip on your collar pulled you back, keeping you from toppling over the edge in your excitement.

“Idiot,” Soyeon muttered, snatching her phone from your grasp, gazing at it intently. Swinging your legs over the ledge, you planted your feet on the roof, wandering towards the opposite edge of the building. “Hey Y/n?” Soyeon called after you, hands stuffed into her pockets as she followed after you. “Yeah?” You hummed, glancing up at the tree that towered above the roof. “How did you know my password?” She questioned, brows raised inquisitively. “Lucky guess,” you excused with a shrug, carelessly climbing onto the ledge. “Until next time, Jeon Soyeon,” you saluted with a smile, stepping backwards to gracefully fall over the edge.

Soyeon’s eyes widened as she blinked in shock, rushing towards the ledge, curiously leaning over. She let out a relieved laugh upon seeing you dangle from a feeble branch by one arm, waving up at her with the other. “You’re fucking insane Kim Y/n,” she chuckled, shaking her head in disbelief. “You know there's a ladder, right?” She asked, watching you nod dumbly, wondering what possessed you to suddenly jump from a roof. Letting go of the branch, you landed on the ground with a thud, dusting off your uniform before casually strolling away, hands stuffed into your pockets. “I was wrong, you’re far from boring,” Soyeon muttered to herself as you disappeared into the darkness.

~~

Sooyoung stared perplexed as you held your phone up to her face, brows furrowing at the blurry image. “What does a photo of Kim Yerim have to do with any of this?” Your roommate huffed, plopping down on your bed with a confused grumble. “The photo of Mr Kim and his mistress, she took it the night this photograph was taken.” You explained simply, shrugging nonchalantly as you flopped down beside her. “That still doesn’t explain why you have it,” she groaned, abruptly gripping you by the shoulders, attempting to shake some sense into you. “I made a new friend,” you grinned, paying no mind to Sooyoung’s bewilderment.

“And she just handed you a photo of your teacher with his tongue down a student's throat?!” She yelled in disbelief, forehead creasing as she tried to wrap her head around the perplexing situation. “Well, I’m simply borrowing it for the time being,” you uttered, glancing down at the crumpled photograph. “For fucks sake! you stole it, didn’t you?” Sooyoung accused, eyes narrowed as she awaited your answer. Carefully contemplating, you tilted your head to the side, scratching your head thoughtfully. “I suppose so,” you muttered with a nod, wincing as Sooyoung landed a slap on the back of your head. “Idiot,” she grumbled, falling back against your mattress.

“I still don’t understand any of this,” Sooyoung complained, raking a stressed hand through her long dark locks. “You don’t need to,” you muttered, leaning back against the wall. “I want to though,” she huffed, briefly letting her eyes flutter closed as she tried to piece together this unique puzzle. “You always do weird shit like this, I’m just finally curious,” Sooyoung mumbled, by weird she meant suspicious. “I’m doing someone a favour,” you revealed, watching as the gears in her head began to turn. “A favour? For who? Why?” She questioned rapidly, abruptly sitting up straight. “I received an anonymous letter on the first day of school, I thought I’d play along for a little fun.” You explained calmly, staring out the window and into the starry night.

“Just what have you gotten yourself into, Y/n?” 

~~

Students flocked around the auditorium doors, flooding inside as excited chatter bounced from the walls. You shuffled mindlessly through the crowd, arm linked with Yerim’s, who had caught you by the arm amidst the sea of students, dragging you past endless bodies. “Best seats in this fancy old building,” Yerim declared as she plopped down on the red velvet chairs. “I’m not so sure,” you muttered doubtfully, pointing a lazy finger to the private balcony above, reserved for various significant figures within the academy. “I beg to differ,” she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest defensively.

“Shouldn't you be up there with them, miss student council historian?” You teased, eyes swirling with curiosity as she gazed longingly at the balcony above. Hints of red and gold accents travelling up the pure white walls, historical patterns adorning each pillar supporting those who sat above all others. “That privilege is reserved for senior council members,” Yerim mumbled with a wistful sigh. The students all quietened down at the steadily paced clacking heels that captured the attention of the entire student body with a mere eight twelve steps. The headmistress cleared her throat before leaning forwards to speak into the microphone that sat atop a podium perfectly centred on stage.

“I know you’re all excited, but I’d appreciate it if I could have your attention.” Taeyeon requested, patiently awaiting the stall of hushed chatter. “I’m sure you’re all well aware of the upcoming annual sports festival,” she paused, quirking a smile at the excited cheers that echoed through the auditorium. “The board and I have been discussing factors for a while now, and I’m pleased to announce that there will be an additional incentive this year!” The headmistress declared proudly, prompting cheerful claps from those on the lower seats, while the privileged merely sat stoically above. “The champions of the rigorous battle between homeroom classes will earn an advantage in the next competition.”

Taeyeon’s announcement earned a rally of cheers and joyous shouts. While academics were incredibly important values to an advanced academy, they also believed in challenging their students in ways most schools couldn’t dream of. The school year consisted of several advanced trials that tested the students' individual capabilities and teamwork throughout the years. The academy’s annual sports festival was only the beginning of this year's various trials; you could only assume there would be plenty of twists and complexities to come from such a highly regarded school. You’d only heard whispers of challenges from the past years, but the serious nature in which the seniors viewed it told you there was much to anticipate.

“Thank you all for your time, you may now head back to your regular classes.” Your eyes wandered to the crowd as Taeyeon droned on, curiously flickering up to the loges in which the esteemed bunch were seated. The President sat stiffly, eyes hardened as he stared ahead. A stark contrast to the Vice President seated beside him, her shoulders relaxed, an easy-going smile adorning her lips. Your eyes then found the familiar face of your Swim Captain, who nodded along with the headmistress's words, listening attentively. Lastly your gaze landed on Kim Jennie, her arms and legs crossed, expression reading as uninterested.  

You blinked in surprise as her intimidating cat-like eyes met yours, her brows raising as she tilted her head upwards ever so slightly. Daring to hold her gaze, you stared blankly at the girl who matched your expression, inquisitively raising a perfectly sculpted brow. It was as if the devil herself had challenged you to a staring contest, one you couldn’t bring yourself to look away from. Jennie’s sharp features staring back at you with an unreadable expression, one you tried tirelessly to decode, but to no avail. Brought back to the real world by a soft tug on your blazer, you briefly glanced away, looking curiously at Yerim. 

“Everyone’s leaving,” she grumbled, pushing you out of your seat to follow after the bustling crowd. Stumbling forwards, you craned your neck to glance back at the balcony in wonder. Your brows furrowed as your eyes landed upon the now empty chair that Kim Jennie was seated in mere seconds before. Interest peaked within you at the strange encounter with the Student Council Treasurer, blindly following behind Yerim as your mind wandered back to the exchange. Something about the feline eyed girl was oddly familiar, but you couldn’t quite place your finger on it. A harsh tug on the back of your collar yanked you from Yerim’s grasp, tugging you through the crowd as you struggled in protest.

“What the fuck,” you exclaimed, shrugging off their hand before whipping around to face them. “Watch your language,” Kim Hyoyeon scolded, shaking her head in disappointment. “Watch my language?! You just dragged me by the neck and I’m not even allowed to swear?” You seethed, glaring up at your professor and swim coach in disbelief. “I had no choice, you weren’t replying to any of my messages.” She reasoned, voice lowering as she glanced around the corridor cautiously. “I was busy,” you huffed incredulously, feigning ignorance to the numerous messages you’d received days prior. “What did you say to Taeyeon?” She questioned, arms crossed over her chest authoritatively. 

“Straight to the point as always,” you rolled your eyes, leaning against the nearest wall. “Just answer the question, Y/n. I don’t have time for your games today,” she gritted her teeth, lips drawn into a scowl. “No fun,” you whined sarcastically, a faux frown plastered on your features. Hyoyeon shot you a warning glare, taking a menacing step closer. “You're worried,” you observed, brows furrowed pensively. “Something’s off, I haven’t seen her like this since..” Hyoyeon trailed off, biting her tongue as she watched your jaw clench in vexation. “Whatever the problem is, it hasn’t got anything to do with me.” You grumbled, spinning on your heel, but Hyoyeon caught you by the wrist with a firm grip.

“It has everything to do with you,” Hyoyeon pressed, releasing your wrist as you slowly turned to face her, eyes narrowed. “Let me rephrase. It’s not my problem to deal with, she can fix it herself.” You seethed, hands curled into tight fists. “But you know she won’t,” Hyoyeon tried to convince you, but to no avail. “I don’t owe her anything,” you didn’t fold under her now pleading gaze. “Now if you’d excuse me, I have to get back to class Professor Kim.” You spoke formally, releasing a sigh of relief when she didn’t stop you. But just as you were about to round the corner, Hyoyeon tried one last time to sway you in her favour. “She’s your sister, Y/n,” her voice echoed throughout the corridor, but you didn’t bother to face her this time.

“No she’s not. Not anymore.” You whispered, but Hyoyeon heard you loud and clear, her shoulders sagging in defeat.

~ Previous | Masterlist | Next ~

[goddessofroyalty]

Fandom: House of the Dragon

Finally at my computer again after posting another chapter of Blood for Blood so take my favourite part of it - Luke looking Aemond dead in the eye while telling him he named their latest kid Harwin.

Pairing: Aemond/Luke

Warnings: omegaverse, mpreg, uncle-nephew incest, abelist comments (I tried not to go too hard but I also needed to keep it in character)

-------------

Aemond is not surprised it is his sister waiting for him and not his mate when he finally makes it back to their home. Luke has the seemingly never-ending responsibilities of his seat to keep him busy while Helaena only has her insects and her children.

“How are they both?” Aemond asks as the two make their way towards the main hall where Luke is hearing petitions from the various peoples under their rule. He never likes leaving when Luke is pregnant but rebellions are more easily quashed by dragon-fire and it is better to remind others who may think of also trying to buck their Lord of exactly how out-powered they are.

“They are both well,” Helaena says with a nod that’s almost a bow. “You have another son.”

Aemond nods at it. They have a good spread of both genders among all their children and hopefully will see all three designations as their children present. But it is good that both Luke and their latest made it through the birth.

Helaena glances away from him, picking at her nails in the nervous habit she picked up from their mother.

“What’s happened?”

Helaena ducks her head again, muttering something under her breathe before daring to meet his eyes.

“It is not my place to say. Just, promise me you won’t be mad at him, okay?” she asks and Aemond is suddenly back in the early days after his father died when everything and everyone was at risk.

Halaena had said they were both well so surely that meant their child had not been born sleeping. But well still leaves a wide space. Aemond is well, but he is still forever missing his eye. Even their family is not immune from children born deformed.

“Of course.” There is nothing even a dragon can do against the gods wills. They just must hope that this is not an omen of more bad things to come.

Halaena eyes him doubtfully but doesn’t say anything as they finish their journey. Entering the main hall as they are announced.

Luke smiles at them both at it. Standing from his seat and gesturing at one of the maids to bring their child over to him as Aemond approaches his Seat.

“I assume you were successful in your venture?” Luke asks as Aemond kneels to him with well-practiced ease.

“Yes. I doubt there will be even any whispers of rebellion from the region for at least a generation.” Aemond had made sure to leave a painful mark on the landscape itself to ensure that anyone who stepped foot in the area would know what the price of going against their rule was.

“Good. I do regret I had to leave it to you alone.”

“You had more important duties to tend to,” Aemond says standing again.

“I suppose,” Luke says with the cheeky smile that he will apparently never grow out of. “Do you want to meet him?”

It is a stupid question but there is no doubt in Luke’s voice. He knows Aemond will want to. The pride of a child born from them something that does not fade with each birth.

The maid brings the babe over to him as soon as he nods. A boy still young even if no longer new born. Weeks of his life Aemond missed because of the traitorous rebels.

“What is his name?” Aemond asks as he runs his eyes over the light eyes and dark hair of their child.

“Harwin,” Luke says and Aemond hears the maid gasp at the look he shoots his omega.

Luke stares back at him with unflinching eyes.  

“I named him in honor of the man who was loyal to my mother until the day he drew his last breath,” Luke continues. Which sounds perfectly reasonable if not for the fact that Luke had named their child after his true father.

It’s just short of a declaration of the truth of the bastard claims.

You promised Helaena mouths when he glances over at her.

“What do you think of it?” Luke asks because he knows Aemond can’t say what he is actually thinking. Not without admitting to the treason they are all complacent in.

“It is a good thing we have our dragons.” Anyone foolish enough to use the name as a rallying cry to try and take the Seat from Luke will die by dragon-fire.

[spinchip]

NEVER THE DARK

Chapter 8

Read on Ao3

Prologue - Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7

warnings: body horror, grief

GRIEF IS NOT A FEELING// BUT A NEIGHBORHOOD.

Jay wakes up to the smell of something savory wafting to his nose. He sits up slowly, stretching his arms over his head until his joints popped loudly, swallowing against the dry taste in his mouth. He looks over the campfire. A small pot has been strung up over the flames with a series of branches tied together with black lichen, a thick brown soup bubbled away inside and gave off a frankly mouth watering smell.

Lloyd is sitting at attention, stirring the soup every few seconds.

“Morning. You made breakfast?” He asks, running his hands through his hair to de-tangle it.

“Absolutely not.” Lloyd informs him, “Birdy’s the brains of this operation. He went to forage for spoons.”

“Spoons?”

“That’s what he said.” Lloyd shrugs, “He and I caught some fish this morning, and he dug up some beans too. He’s been preparing it for hours.”

Birdy appears a few seconds later holding a bouquet of flowers.

“Are those for me?” Jay jokes, “Or should I wake Cole?” He teases, smiling as Birdy ducks his head in embarrassment.

“They’re for everyone.” He tells him, sitting down and breaking off a petal. It literally snaps free from the stem, “Spoon flower. They get stiff near the end of their season, perfect for make-shift utensils.”

“Huh. That’s pretty cool.” He comments,”You sure know a lot.”

“I have been here a while,” Birdy reminds him, popping off the rest of the petals, “And it was not all my findings. There’s a self-proclaimed polymath high up in Oasis’s hierarchy. Samiras right hand man. He has made a lot of significant discoveries… Hopefully you never get to meet him.”

The smell of food finally rouses Cole, who sits up already drooling, “That smells amazing.” He hums, inhaling deeply.

“I don’t have bowls, so we’ll just have to split the pot.” He says apologetically as Lloyd wakes Nya and Kai.

“Hey, I wasn’t expecting anything. I’m not complaining.” Cole says easily, scooping up the first bite of soup and tossing it down the hatch. “Oh, wow! This tastes like pot roast.”

“Fish here is more like a red meat.” Birdy nods, pleased as the others dig in.

“So what’s the plan to avoid Oasis?” Lloyd asks once everyone ate their fill and camp was sufficiently broken down.

Birdy brushes any leftover sand off his pants, “There is no plan. There is only one exit that will not detour our journey by weeks, and it leads directly into Oasis’s territory. We are relying on pure luck that a patrol doesn’t stumble on us coming out of the caves. If we’re caught, they will take us directly to Samira.”

“Luck.” Jay echoes, “I don’t know if you know this, but it was our lousy luck that got us stranded here in the first place. I think we’ll be making an appearance in Oasis’s jail today.”

With a shake of his head, Birdy starts to lead them through the tunnels. The river at the bottom swells and shrinks randomly, to the point where there are times they’re wading through it. Jay drew the short straw of the bunch, which really was just him realizing too late the team was splitting into pairs. Kai and Nya were walking side by side behind Cole and Lloyd, leaving the only empty spot right next to Birdy. His spot. It’s not like he doesn’t like the guy- he’s been nothing but helpful this whole time- but the mask is… well, it’s creepy. And Birdy is awkward. All attempts at conversation outside the oddities of the realm had really fallen flat, and if there’s one thing Jay liked to do it was talk.

He looks around the caves, swiveling his head every which way, trying to find something to catch and keep his attention. He so badly wants something to fidget with. He finds himself rubbing his hands together and caving around the urge to pick at the skin around his nails. His mood darkens as they walk. He can’t help but think that this shouldn’t have happened. The museum fight was just such a mess. She ran right past them for FSM’s sake…

“Are you alright?” Birdy asks near silently, able to speak lowly enough that the others don’t catch on.

Jay feels himself bristle, “Oh, Yeah,” He snorts, “Like i’d spill my heart to you. You won’t even show us your face.” He lashes out. Birdy flinches barely, just enough that you wouldn’t have noticed if you weren't a specially trained ninja with eyes like a hawk.

Birdy moves on quietly and doesn’t say anything else unless it’s a warning about treacherous ground. Despite himself, Jay starts to feel bad. He wasn’t technically in the wrong. Birdy didn’t really have the right to ask about that stuff. He’s a total stranger! Just because he’s leading them through the Realm doesn’t mean Jay has to spill his heart to him! But he can hear his moms voice in the back of his head- You could at least be polite, Jay! We have manners in this house! There’s no need to get snippy.

“We… lost someone a few years ago,” He starts quietly. Birdy turns his head ever so slightly, enough to signal to Jay he’s listening, “He was home. He kept us all together. We’ve just been going through the motions without him, pretending to be this big happy family and no one acknowledges that we’ve been barely hanging on since he died.”

Birdy crosses over a wide branching path from the river, reaching back to grab Jay's hand for stability over the wet stepping stones, “You are not happy here? With your partners?”

“I…” He sighs, “It’s different now. I love Cole and Kai with everything I have, but it’s not right without Zane. We aren’t balanced. Kai moved out of our bedroom. When we argue Cole never has my back anymore.” Jay struggles to find the right words.

Birdy stays quiet so Jay can finish, “I just don’t think we’ll ever have the strength to fight without him. Not for our relationship, and certainly not as Ninjagos greatest heroes. Even this mess here and now is proof. We only ended up in this place because we still haven’t compensated for his loss.” He looks down at his red nails beds, bitten to bleeding, “And then what? Do we die too? What’s the point of that?” he says bitterly.

Long moments pass as Birdy waits. Jay doesn’t go on. He actually thinks Birdy isn’t going to say anything in response- which, well, fair. It was kind of a lot. Pretty heavy stuff. He hadn’t meant to spill like that, but once the ball was rolling he couldn’t stop it and Birdy was just so surprisingly easy to talk to. He opens his mouth to apologize when Birdy finally breaks the silence.

“It is hard,” He begins slowly, “To feel so alone.”

Its Jays turn to flinch. Birdy sliced right down to his core, looking at the things he said and picking out the root of the problem instantly.

“I understand.” He says carefully, “When I was sent here, I lost everything. My family. My home.” He runs his thumb over the handle of his staff, feeling the grooves in the metal, “I spent so much time just surviving, putting one foot in front of the other. I had no one in this world, and I never will. I was truly alone- but there is understanding in loneliness when there is no one around. It is a unique type of pain to feel lonely surrounded by the people you love. Hiding behind grief, Putting up a barrier and pushing them away, it feels better because at least then the loneliness feels justified.”

Jay doesn’t look at him.

“When you saw the beast in the forest, you were ready for a battle.” Birdy says meaningfully, “It did not look like you wanted to run away.”

“I was just surviving.” Jay parrots simply, for once at a loss of words.

“No,” Birdy says immediately. He reaches out and grabs Jays hand, stopping him from picking as his nails, “You were fighting for your family, and you must let them in so they can fight for you too. Do not throw this away, Jay- You do not want that.”

“You don’t know anything about me.” Jay reminds him sharply, jerking his hand back defensively.

Birdy pulls away and looks straight ahead, ”I know.” He moves forward several long strides and Jay has to half-jog to catch up.

"What about you?" Jay pivots, "You lost everything. You're basically in hell. Why keep going? Why go through the trouble of helping a bunch of strangers?"

There's another long pause, this time Jay's sure Birdy's not going to respond when he breaks the silence, "This isn't hell." Is all he says, and nothing more.

He jogs forward suddenly, breaking away from Jay fully. In front of them, a wall of vines has grown thick and long, tendrils dragging along the stone floor. Birdy pulls them aside like a curtain to reveal a thin shaft of natural light, and a tall cavern climbing sharply into the sky. A few feet above Birdys head the purple-gray stone transitions to dirt and earth where the walls are covered in deep black holes. Jutting out of the patches of soil between burrows are long, fat tubers. The ends are sliced down flat while still allowing a substantial chunk to poke into the corridor above them. At the very top Jay can see the now-familiar rolling clouds.

“This is our stop.” Birdy announces, craning his head up to the sky.

The others filter in through the vines, the hole wide enough for them all to fit comfortably. “So where’s the elevator?” Jay asks.

Birdy dips his head in a way that implies a courtesy smile before railroading on, “We climb.”

“Oh, this’ll be a piece of cake!” Cole grins, stepping up to the wall and prepping the best pathway up in his mind.

Reaching out to stop Cole's hand from touching the wall, Birdy chokes up on his staff and informs them, “You must not put your hands or feet into the holes.” He says seriously before sticking the tip of his staff into the closest one. Immediately a spray of fire lights up the cave, a slender headed animal darting halfway out before retreating back inside, huge slicing claws leaving gouges on the side of its burrow. “Magma Moles. They do not attack unless threatened, and encroaching on their home is the easiest way to do so.”

Cole gulps, “Noted!” He laughs awkwardly, restarting with a different pathway in mind. After a moment, he nods to himself and leaps up into action, scaling up the wall like he was born for it.

The others go after him. Birdy starts second, using the vegetables as hand and foot holds to haul himself up on the other side of the pit. It’s a slow, arduous process. Jay takes a deep breath and starts up, pacing himself because the climb is a long one. He glances around at the others, all of them in different stages of the climb. They’re all doing as expected despite the slickness of their handholds. Steady progress. Cole leads Kai and Nya up slowly and carefully while Jay skitters up after Birdy.

In the mouth of the burrow right next to him the darkness shifts. There’s half a second of fear before Jay realizes he’s not under attack, “Aw, hi little fella!” He greets, face to face with one of the mole-like rodents. It’s far tinier with any adult with fluffier spotted fur- a puppy!

It’s not one of his smarter moments. He can admit that. He reaches out and pets it.

The little thing allows it for a moment before it gets a good whiff of Jay's human-stink and connects the dots that the loving stroke is not from a beloved family member. At this realization, it lets out a long high pitched squeak, one that makes Jays ears ring- and below them, the cave erupts into fire.

“Climb!” Birdy orders frantically, “They are pack animals, that was a cub's distress call!”

AKA, they just threatened a baby, and now the village was ready to roast them alive. Jay's heart rate jacks up as he begins to scramble up the wall, dodging streams of fire by a hair's width. Despite the panic, he realizes there’s a pattern- about 3 seconds of fire max with a 5 second minimum cool down time. He watches each hole and, in the brief moments after the fire stream stutters out he uses the holes as launch points to haul himself up quicker. Cole grabs him by the hand the moment he’s close enough and yanks him out of the hole hard enough to make his shoulders ache, the others clawing their way up heart beats after.

They scramble away as the moles all synchronize their next blast and a pillar of fire shoots up from the pit, scorching the trees on the edge of the clearing they found themselves in.

Kai groans as the fire putters out and flops on his back, exhausted, “Way to go Jay!”

“No one warned me the babies would be so cute!” He defends where he’s sprawled out in the dirt, trying to breathe.

Birdy on his feet, leaning on his staff. “You forgot the first rule already.” He laments.

Nya and Lloyd huff out a laugh, leaning against each other. The cave entrance is only just now returning to dim darkness, the streams of defensive fire finally dimming as the animals chitter and chirp to each other. The light, however, was a beacon to anyone who might be passing by. It would have been less obvious to shoot off a flare gun and announce I’m over here, come get me! Through a megaphone.

They hear them coming moments before they see them, the thick forest hiding them from sight for a few precious moments. Birdy straightens and adjusts his grip on his staff, but when he glances back, his grip loosens. Jay looks at them- exhausted from the mad scramble, singed or burnt, tired because well, let's face it, sleeping on rocks wasn’t exactly comfortable… they weren’t the strike team they usually were, and the band of warriors approaching them sounded fresh and ready for a fight.

There is a familiar swishing sound that Jay registers half a second too late to warn anyone about. Birdy hisses in pain, dropping his staff. The throwing knife thankfully bounced off his fingers instead of severing any, but Birdy still has to shake out the sting as the patrol group finally emerges from the woods to surround them.

The apparent leader of the little group swaggers forward, “Well well well, what do we have here? Little Birdy's come back to play?” He’s a wolf armed with a huge morning star in one hand, but what sticks out most to Jay is that he sneers at them with teeth that have grown together into chunky blocks of bone. His mouth doesn't close right because of it, the smirk lopsided.

“Wox.” Birdy greets, squaring his shoulders and standing tall, “You’re looking well.”

Wox throws his head back and laughs, the roof of his mouth studded with more rows of flat bone teeth, “Flattery won’t win you any mercy, mate.” He crosses his arms, and it’s only now that Jay realizes that what he initially thought was a flail was just the man’s hand, the bones of his fingers fused and studded with random claws and bits of shattered bone.

This is the first set of people since Maurice that they’ve gotten to see the effects of entropy in action. Wox is not the worst off of the group. Jay has to will himself not to flinch as he continues to notice new and unique ways the people around them have been mutated horrifically. The girls to his left- he can’t look at her hands. He thinks he might be sick. Exposed bone, extra limbs, Cronenberg body horror that will haunt his dreams he’s certain. He’s sweating.

The others in the patrol spread out, and the Ninja get to their feet immediately. They huddle together as the crew herds them into the center of the clearing like sheep. Jay's hand rests on the handle of his weapon, but Birdy glances back and shakes his head minutely.

“We’re just passing through.” Lloyd explains, stepping up beside Birdy.

“Passing through?” The girl at Wox’s side snorts, her jaw hanging on by only a few thin pieces of elastic looped around her head, “You can’t just pass through Oasis, greenie. You gotta talk to the boss, get permission, you see?”

Wox steps forward, “Which Birdy knows, don’t he?” He says pointedly, glaring at the man. “But I suppose that’s where you were heading, weren’t ya- to see Samira. You wasn’t gonna just sneak on by, right?”

Birdy stays quiet, thinking. “…That is correct.” He says tensely.

“Well good. We’ll lead you there, make sure you arrive safely.” Wox uncrosses his arms, the mass of bone that was one his hand dragging across the dirt.

Birdy glances back at them, holding the look like he wants desperately to tell them something but can’t, before turning back, “Lead the way.” He grabs his staff off the ground as they’re wrangled through the woods.

Jay’s close enough that when Lloyd turns his head to Birdy and asks, “What’s the plan?” He can plainly hear when Birdy says nothing at all.

They pass through the trees in tense silence.

Jay squares his shoulders and prepares for the worst. That's how it always goes, after all.

[hosannan]

The girl who gifted golden flowers. Maria spies her again to a shining backdrop, though this time it is a tapestry of what feels like endless sky. She leans back-- 'hup!'-- and throws her legs out and her weight forward, descending from her perch on a storage crate and letting momentum carry her at a trot.

"Hello, Princess Nanna!" She ducks forward again, turning as she does, and sporting a grin as she emerges into view. Her hands, at first clasped behind her back, come to land upon the railing with only a pause to giggle and to wave. "It's really nice to see you again!"

Rosy eyes flicker toward the ocean, then back to her. "How are you?" Not seasick, she hopes. "Have you ever been to Jugdral? I haven't, but I'm really curious about it!"

"...Maria!" It's a wonder that the sky hasn't reached down to kiss the young girl's cheeks. Last she saw of Maria, she dawned a billowing sunset and a cute headband to finish, but she was no less bright now in her lively trot across the deck. Guilt struck Nanna's stomach, curdling with a lack of admission—but what could she admit when they were just rumors? That the school would have to organize such a large expedition to Jugdral to investigate issues that should have been stamped out ages ago... And for volunteers from different lands having to come in and assist...? "I wish we had reunited under better circumstances." The confession was pushed from her lips, apology on the cusp as well.

"I am in good shape, and I must thank you for taking this journey with me. With us." She physically shook the anxiety off of herself, letting it roll off her shoulders. Though it dug its nails deep into her back, she felt Maria's sweetness balm her worries until they were but light bruises in her heart. "It is my home, after all. A lovely one, full of life and prayer. I can only hope that we find the reports false, so this excursion could be far more promising."

"Oh, Maria, there's just..." Clasping her fingers together, she swings her heart open for the girl to see. Eyes glittering, remembering her home. "There's so much out there! The long, beautiful strips of grass lands. The boats coasting along seaside villages... There's a Tower that juts straight into the holy gates, where you can pray to the gods directly. And the children all have stardrops in their eyes..."

"I have never wished to part from it."

She does not look towards the horizon, despite the colors transposing over her memories. Because her time at the academy had not crossed her as simply transient. Maria was a living sentiment of it. "I wish to learn more of your home, too." Her eyes make Maria part of the sun's glaze.

"Won't you tell me?"