#i guess it is like a conscious sticking my head in the sand thing

[stellarcobweb]

if anyone is willing to talk to me abt possible system stuff that would b great btw i have zero ppl to talk to abt it lol

(or if i can be guided to like. idk. server that helps w figuring this shit out)

[undead-potatoes]

I wanna ask that question right back! Which of your OCs is most like you? I'm curious!

I thought about this question for like an hour while trying to sleep last night, and all I'll say is don't do deep self reflection exercises in the dark before bed kids

Also this got kinda long, ops 🙈

Much like you (and I'm sure everyone else) I put pieces of myself into all my OCs, intentionally or otherwise, and so they all have bits of me.

I don't know if it's because he's so fresh in my mind, or if it's because I didn't have too much of a plan going in so he just became a natural reflection of me, but Jay is really high up there on the list.

Loud, talkative, jovial, happiest when he's of help to others, solution oriented and takes most unforeseen problems in his stride. But he's also incredibly self-conscious, and terrified of taking up space or being a bother to someone else, often forgoing his own needs bc it's not THAT important, it's fine. Sorry for existing.

He naturally gravitates towards other people's problems and a wish to help them (whether that's welcome or not), but prefers to stick his head in the sand when it comes to dealing with his own shit. When things get bad emotionally he goes into himself, and can become borderline dissociative, just lost to the void.

He's extremely good at finding stuff other people need but can't find, feeding into this need to be helpful. He's bit of a control freak and perfectionist too, and has to stop himself and call it good enough or he'll go on forever (wow look how topical)

I could honestly keep going but this is long enough as it is 🙈 I have no idea how we ended up here but I guess he's my emotional support self-insert blorbo now, bye.

Still, he's his own character. He's much better with people than I am, especially children, and doesn't have Retsuko-levels of rage bubbling right under the surface at all times. He's more manipulative and mischievous, and small grievances bounce off him easier. I only ignore my problems until I have to deal with them, he actively runs away from his. He's more extroverted than me, and doesn't mind big crowds, while they're the bane of my existence. And so on and so forth.

ANYWAYS this somehow turned into the a Jay post, I'm sorry lmao. His character wasn't really planned at all, I just let him grow naturally from the way I played (kinda like with you and your Aeducan), and once I took a step back and looked at him I was like "hold on a minute, this is just me if I was cool and had extra trauma, what the fuck".

Honorable mentions of pillars of my own personality shoved into other characters go to;

Courier May (F3/NV) - So damn angry all the time about everything, much of it useless and a waste of energy, but it's really hard to turn it off.

Nimri Brosca DA:O) - This applied more to younger me, but I can get REALLY ride or die for someone, like to the point where it becomes a major character flaw.

Pomona Hawke (DA2) - Did you eat? Yes? Are you sure? Are you wearing enough layers? When did you last apply sunscreen? Did you remember to drink enough today? [The mother hen questions goes on for another 5 minutes]. Also everything is always my fault somehow.

Sam Jones (VtM:B) - Just absolutely insufferable about social justice, and the other half of my rage that's an answer to injustice. You've not seen me angry until I've had a whiff of something cruelly unfair.

And because I feel like I've been too negative here;

Ridley (Coral Island) - Hard-working and generous :)c

[xsamsharons]

only one bed - nikolai lantsov.

pairing: nikolai lantsov x reader

genre/warning: just fluff!

words: 1.4k

summary: the age old "there’s only one bed and we sleep as far away as possible from each other but wake up cuddling" trope.

Today had been a rare calm day out on a deserted beach you’d found somewhere along the coast of Ravka, the sun had shined all day without cloud in sight, and the lack of wind combined with the hot weather had made it impossible to stay out of the water for long. Even though the day had been one of the most relaxed one the crew had had the fortune of enjoying in a while, a whole day in the ocean would take its toll on anyone, hence why you were now basically dragging your feet back to the Volkvolny to turn in for the night. You had your shoes in your hands, feeling the now cold sand make contact with your bare feet, your hair salty and your eyes red from the water. Tolya and Tamar were walking in front of you, both absolutely exhausted, causing them to stumble and trip over everything. Genya and David were walking behind you, both whispering to each other and giggling under their breath, and Nikolai was walking right beside you. You were both walking while sharing a peaceful moment of comfortable silence after a day full of annoying each other, though it seemed keeping quiet was a hard thing for Nikolai to do, since he tried to spark a conversation every five steps you took.

You had left everything on the ship in order before you left this morning, already imagining how tiring it would be to tidy everything up when you could barely keep your eyes open. However, it seemed like the universe had other plans, because as soon as you all arrived in one piece to the stowaway boat you had docked on the shore and after various failed attempts to climb up and onto the ship, Tolya collapsed on the couch. You tried nudging him and waking him up, but it was a lost cost given the fact that he had instantly passed out, and none of you were strong enough to move his dead weight.

“Don’t look so sad, darling.” Nikolai said when he saw you standing on your door looking like a kicked puppy. “Now you have an excuse to come into my room and sleep next to me.” he winked, which caused you to roll your eyes. He wasn’t wrong: while you would obviously take the couch, his room was probably the best one out of everyone’s, and you really didn’t have enough energy to argue with him right now. Instead, you just settled for a glare that you hoped conveyed everything you would say to him in that moment if you weren’t so exhausted. Judging by the way his smirk only grew in response to your look, you think it probably did.

“Thanks.” You huffed as he opened the door to his office slash room.

As soon as you stepped into his room and heard him shut the door behind you, you wanted to start crying out of frustration. Or exhaustion - probably both, you weren’t sure. Bottom line is that you wanted to start crying. Nikolai’s couch was a mess. There were pages filled with what looked like ship designs everywhere, the bed sheet on top of it looked like it hadn’t been washed in a month, there was a leftover plate of food on the floor and, was that a sword sticking out of the cushions? Nikolai chuckled from his side of the room.

“Guess you don’t want to be sleeping in there.” He said, sending you a smirk over his shirtless shoulder as he changed into his sleeping clothes.

“It beats the floor.” You shrugged, and it was true. The floor hadn’t been cleaned in ages and you were scared you were gonna fall through it and end up in the middle of the ocean. An irrational thought, of course, but one that your mind considered very possible anyway.

“I mean, we can always share the bed.” Nikolai proposed, and you shook your head, you thought you were already being too much of a bother, and you didn’t think your body could handle a whole night of sleeping next to him. “Oh, come on. It’s not that big of a deal, darling.” he smirked, walking closer to you until he was crouching down to look into your eyes that were trying to focus on anything but his hazel ones..

“Fine.” You sighed in response, and you don’t know how, but his smirk got even bigger than it had been seconds before. After telling him you’d slap his stupid smirk off his face if he didn’t stop, (which got a laugh out of him) you got changed and climbed into bed.

You both made a point of sleeping as far away from each other as possible, even though Nikolai had suggested that he could - in his own words - ‘keep you warmer than the covers ever could’, to the point where you were almost falling off the bed. You didn’t care though, you were exhausted and just wanted to sleep, so that’s exactly what you did.

When you woke up the next morning, the first thing you noticed was how heavy your chest felt. You got worried for a moment, your brain starting to think that somehow you had fallen through the floor and you were drowning, before you glanced down and saw Nikolai’s head resting right under your chin and on top of your chest, both of his arms safely wrapped around your body as his soft breaths made contact with your skin, causing goosebumps to erupt in your body and your heartbeat to speed up. You ignored the butterflies having him lay against you caused you, and instead admired the sight in front of you.

You stared at his face and admired every single feature in it; his long eyelashes resting on his cheeks, his soft lips slightly parted but looking as beautiful as ever, and his sharp nose upon which you were delicately tracing your index finger up and down. His nose subconsciously scrunched up at the contact and you let out a soft laugh at how cute he looked, moving your right hand from his nose and placing it on his hair instead, you started to twirl his curls in your fingers. You kept your other hand on his face and caressed his cheek, feeling your heart melting at the sight of the beautiful prince.

Soon enough, however, you noticed how your body started to go numb from being under him and having his body pressed up against you for such a long time. As much as you hated to disrupt the peaceful state he was in and your own private selfish view of his face, you shook him awake. He let out a groan and nuzzled closer to you, if that was even possible, and you felt your heart do flips inside you.

“Sorry for the bother, your highness, but my whole body is going numb. You aren’t exactly a feather.” You teased in a sarcastic tone, using his title to further taunt him.

In one swift motion, Nikolai turned you both around, still keeping his arms wrapped around you but this time you were the one whose head was placed on his chest. Your heart was already beating at an inhuman pace when he started to trace patterns across your arm with his thumb and you felt your body tense up once you started thinking about how he was conscious now and definitely aware of what he was doing. Nikolai must have felt this because he spoke with a sigh afterwards.

“I always imagined our first morning waking up together would involve less clothing, but this is still pretty good.” He said and you slapped his chest, feeling your cheeks burning up. “Just relax, darling. I can't sleep when your thoughts are so loud.” He concluded, moving to place a kiss on the crown of your head before laying back down.

You smiled softly and nuzzled closer to him, inhaling his scent resting your head above his shirt. You returned his kiss by placing one of your own against his chest where his shirt opened and left an open spot, relaxing against him once again once you felt his quiet laugh come from above you in the form of a huff of air.

Feeling his thumb still drawing patterns in your arms, you decided a few more hours of sleep wouldn’t hurt, and he would still be there when you woke up.

[retrievablememories]

the weekend | jaehyun (m)

title: the weekend pairing: jaehyun x black makeup artist!reader genre: fluff, smut request: “I love the Jaehyun x Stylist scenario can there be a part 2 where it’s like steamy and they are dating in secret with that Noona ana younger guy vibe???👀👀💞💞💞💓” and “Hiya this is the anon asking for a part 2 of Jaehyun and the makeup artist a first date with a little smut thrown in if you are feeling it. Whatever you come up with I'll read and more than likely love it💖💖💖😘😘😘” word count: 4k warnings: car sex, public sex, doggystyle, dirty talk, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, unprotected sex—don’t try at home 🔞 a/n: this is the sequel to style. i think it’s been more than a month since this request was sent in, y’all can throw sticks and stones at me now 💀 this fic is “set” after the release of final round, but let’s pretend it’s actually like november rather than july/august

Even though you and Jaehyun have been together for a few months now, today marks your first date.

All of your “dates” so far have consisted of video chats, phone calls, and text messages—and the occasional sexting session, of course. There’s no denying that you love talking to Jaehyun and hearing his voice over the phone, but you haven’t been able to do much else other than that, which could wear anybody thin.

Whenever you work with him on set, you have to play the part of makeup artist Noona who does nothing more than joke playfully with her client and treat him like a silly younger brother. It’s cute and fun for a while—you are grateful for the time to be around him, no matter how it comes—but you can’t pretend like you don’t want more. Maybe not the full experience of “going public,” but at least being able to be boyfriend and girlfriend around the other staff without it being a huge deal.

Jaehyun, in all his sneakiness, has managed to wrangle you into a supply closet or abandoned practice room a time or two, but there has never been time for anything other than a few stolen kisses. Between your endless assignments for NCT and other SM groups and his comeback activities, you’ve been operating on borrowed time.

But with promotions for The Final Round being long over and your schedule having finally slowed down, now is the time.

At this point, there’s so much tension built up between you that you’re almost afraid either one of you will spontaneously combust if you stay in the same space for long enough. The other boys have noticed and tease Jaehyun about it; even Jungwoo has snitched to you that Jaehyun has moaned your name in his sleep more than a few times.

Even though you’re going out today as an actual couple, you both still have to wear disguises. Lowkey, you’ve never really seen the point of these things; fans can always spot their favorite idols from miles away, but it’s probably better to be safe than sorry. You don’t really know what to expect, but you’re anticipating the date either way, excited to finally get together outside of work.

Jaehyun comes to pick you up that afternoon, and you look out the window to confirm his appearance when he texts you he’s outside. When you go to meet him, your nerves are alight.

You chuck your hat into your lap and pull your mask down when you get inside the car. “Ugh, I don’t like wearing that shit on my head. How are yo—” You’re interrupted when Jaehyun leans over the center console and kisses you full on the lips. For a second you laugh against his mouth at his eagerness, but you let yourself succumb to the kiss.

When he pulls away, it’s clearly reluctant, but he looks at you with his face pink and an overly eager grin on his face. “Sorry, we probably shouldn’t do that out there…” He glances around the apartment complex, but no one is there but you two, and his face betrays the lack of regret he actually feels.

“I don’t mind,” you say, trying to play it cool, though you’re feeling quite the opposite. You’re way too taken in with his dimples and his cute and playful demeanor, and it’s moments like these that make you realize that, despite being his makeup artist, you much prefer his bare face to any of the work you’ve done.

Jaehyun pulls out of the parking lot and you settle into the seat. “Aren’t you glad we finally get to hang out like a normal couple?” His excitement is almost palpable as he taps his fingers on the steering wheel to an erratic rhythm.

“Of course! As normal as it can be when you’re dating an idol, I guess,” you say with a hint of amusement, gesturing to your disguises. Jaehyun sighs a little at that.

“You might not believe me, but I still feel really lucky that you chose me, you know,” he says. “I mean...you could just date someone who you don’t have to go through all this extra shit for, someone you could see regularly, and I’m sure it’d be easier, but…”

“Don’t say that. I don’t care about that, Jaehyun; if I wanted that, I’d have it. This is different for me, but I don’t regret any of this.” You grab his free hand that’s resting on the console and slip your fingers between his. “You don’t have to be self-conscious about it or anything.”

Jaehyun squeezes your fingers between his and gives you a smile in return.

You and Jaehyun go to a restaurant he’s talked about before, claiming it serves some of the best pork belly in the area. It’s a little fancier than you expected it to be, and you would’ve dressed up more if you knew, but Jaehyun insists that what you’re both wearing is fine. It’s not like anyone one else will be judging you, anyway; the restaurant has a private dining room, which he reserved so you’d have some privacy while you eat.

“You really went all out, huh?” you say, giving him a sly look after you both sit down.

“Why not? You only get one first date. Got to make a good impression,” he says, putting his chin in his hand.

“We’re already together, I don’t think there’s much chance of me rejecting you at this point.” You laugh. “But you know I appreciate the effort.”

Jaehyun grips your hand, running his thumb over your knuckles and smiling softly. “Anything for you.”

You and Jaehyun talk as you wait for your food to come, filling each other in on all the things you didn’t get to say over the phone or simply forgot about until now. Even though you talk or text over the phone at every opportunity, you’re a little surprised to find there’s still so much to discuss in person.

“It’d be nice to have a vacation...like, a real getaway. Two weeks. A month. Not just a few days off from recording or filming or whatever the hell they decide to have us do that week,” Jaehyun says wistfully once you eventually land on the subject of your jobs.

“Where would you go if you had that time off?” you ask, clasping your hands together as you anticipate his answer.

He shrugs. “Anywhere is fine, I don’t have a real preference...as long as you’ll come with me, of course.”

“Maybe the stars will align and our schedules will allow it someday,” you say, though you aren’t optimistic that it’ll happen any time soon. You already know a new round of SM comebacks is coming soon, which means you’ll be busier than ever. You don’t work with every group or idol, but just 1 or 2 comebacks means dozens of promotional appearances, which you’ll need to be on hand for.

“If that happens, we could go to the beach...” Jaehyun spins his fork around in his hand as he thinks.

“The beach is very ambitious.” You giggle, though it’s half-hearted. “There are way too many people there. People who could recognize you.”

Jaehyun has that face again, which tells you he wants to say but I don’t really care who finds out, but you assume he’s not actually that reckless. Maybe. “It wouldn’t be impossible,” he says slowly, “if it was nighttime. Or a beach people don’t go to often. Or a private beach.”

“Maybe,” you say thoughtfully, tracing your finger across the tablecloth. You’re both talking about it like it’s some far-off thing, but you can already see the wheels turning in his mind, and somehow you feel this beach trip might come sooner than you think.

Much sooner, actually.

After you leave the restaurant, Jaehyun makes good on his idea and actually takes you to the beach; the closest one is a little over an hour away from Seoul. It’s a last-minute thing, and you’re both exhilarated and anxious at the same time. You pester him with questions about the other people who’ll inevitably be at the beach, although that doesn’t do much to dampen your enthusiasm; taking this trip just means more time with him. And God knows you both need these hours together however you can get them.

“It’s almost winter,” he insists. “Hardly anyone will even be out there to see us. And if there are some people, we can just keep our disguises on.”

“Yes, almost winter, which means it’ll be freezing cold, too.” You shake your head at his smirk, and you know he’s thinking he’s just had the most genius idea ever. You wrap your arms around yourself at the thought of the temperature outside.

“If you get cold, just stay next to me. I’ll keep you warm,” Jaehyun says this like he’s just made some heroic declaration, and you look at him for a few seconds before you both burst into laughter.

“Here you go with the kdrama lines again.” You roll your eyes, leaning against the window as you watch other cars speed past on the highway. “I’ll be waiting for your acting debut, Mr. Jung.”

“Promise you won’t get jealous if I do?”

“Please! There’s no reason to be jealous,” you reply coolly. “I’m the one who gets to have you all to myself, after all.”

When you get to the beach, it’s about as empty as Jaehyun predicted it would be, to your surprise. There are a few stragglers here and there, but they’re too far off from where you are to worry about. You’re decidedly less nervous once you see this, and you let him tug your hand and pull you onto the sand like a thrilled kid.

“This is pretty,” you admit as you watch the waves crash against the shore. There’s nothing but sand and water for miles—enough to lose yourself in. You hold your hat closer to your head as a sudden strong breeze threatens to carry it off.

You and Jaehyun walk along the sand, and you make him walk on the inside closest to the water because you don’t want the cold tide splashing you as it rushes in. He doesn’t care nearly as much as you do about it, which makes you shake your head in amusement. He even takes his shoes off at one point.

“You’ll catch a cold out here,” you say, raising an eyebrow at his bare feet in the water.

“I’ll be fine,” he insists. “Even if I get sick, I’ll get to have you as my sexy nurse, so I’m not complaining.”

“You’ve got a lot of balls! Who said I’d be your nurse? You’d probably make me wear one of those goofy ass nurse costumes straight out of a porno.” You snort at the idea of that, though secretly, you don’t hate it.

“Don’t tempt me.”

You turn your head away from him, holding back your giggles but mostly so you can resist the urge to jump him then and there. “You’re so immature sometimes.”

“You still love it, though.” Before you can respond to that, Jaehyun leans closer to you and plants another wet kiss on your lips. You stumble in the sand a bit, but he slips his arm around your waist to steady you and press your body closer to his.

You quickly lose yourself in the kiss, focusing on nothing but Jaehyun’s lips on yours and the thunderous sound of the waves crashing against the shore. Jaehyun lowers his inhibitions as he deepens the embrace, his hands sliding to your ass.

“Your ass is so soft,” he groans, gripping the soft flesh and pushing his hips into you. You can already feel that he’s hard and straining against his pants.

“Horny bastard,” you giggle against his lips, though you could probably say the same for yourself, unable to part from his mouth for even a whole second. Your tongues slide together, and one of Jaehyun’s hands shifts from your ass to travel underneath your sweater. You don’t want to, but you manage to pry yourself away from him. “Maybe we should go back to the car. I know it’s hardly anyone out here, but I ain’t tryna get arrested…”

Jaehyun sighs, planting a few more kisses on your neck and collarbone. “Do we have to?” You try not to throw your reasoning to the wind as you stroke his hair and bring his face back up to be level with yours.

“Do you plan on fucking here? Because you’ll be washing sand out of your ass for days.”

“Well, when you put it like that...guess you’re right. Let’s go, then.” He finally steps away from you, only to hook his arms under your legs and sweep you off your feet, carrying you back to the car.

“You never quit!” You cling to his arms as if you’re afraid he’ll drop you as he walks you back to the car, with you kicking your feet and laughing the whole time. When he finally sets you down, your shoes touching the gravel of the parking lot, he unlocks the back door and you both slip into the backseat of the car.

Jaehyun shuts the door behind you both, finally closing you off from the cold. He leans over the console to put the key in the ignition and turn the heat on, and you take the opportunity to smack his butt while he’s up. He sits back with a fake shocked expression on his face, and then he tries to grab your arm and twist your body around so he can do the same to you.

You cry out and try to shield your butt from him, but he lands a smack hard enough to sting, and you punch him in the arm. “Ow! I didn’t do it that hard to you!” You two end up playfighting in the back of his car, both your hats flying off in the tumble as you push your hands against his chest in an attempt to stop him from tickling you to death.

You end up lying on your back with Jaehyun hovering over you, his warm breaths hitting your face as he laughs. He pulls his mask off fully so you can see his face, and you do the same.

Jaehyun tilts your chin up and kisses you, his other hand on the hem of your sweater as if he can’t decide if he wants to pull it up or go underneath it. He eventually settles on the former when he tugs it upwards to rest above your breasts, his lips never parting from yours the entire time. With this new access, he gropes your tits, kneading the flesh softly and pressing his thumbs into your nipples through the fabric of your bra.

You push your chest closer into his hands, relishing his gentle but firm touches on your body, and he presses forward more to slide his tongue past your lips, exploring the warm confines of your mouth. In turn, your hands go underneath his sweater and shirt, diving under the fabric and caressing his firm abs.

“Your hands are cold,” he smiles against your lips, sucking the lower one into his mouth after speaking.

“Because you brought me to a beach in the middle of November,” you reply, pressing your fingers deeper into his skin and absorbing his body heat. Your hands drift higher and ghost across his nipples, making them harden in response to your touch.

Jaehyun’s lips move to your neck again, biting at your pulse point and leaving soothing kisses in their wake, although he doesn’t spend much more time there before burying his face into your cleavage.

“No more low-cut tops for me,” you say breathlessly as he practically devours you and leaves marks behind on your skin. You wish to do the same to him, but that would only raise questions from the other stylists and the managers, who you’re not interested in doing battle with. Jaehyun answers that by pulling your bra cups down and sucking your nipple past his lips, swirling his tongue around the tip in a way that makes your legs tremble.

You move down towards the waistband of his pants and unzip them, pushing your hand into his underwear and gripping his dick. It twitches in your grasp, and his breath comes out hitched as you squeeze and stroke him as best you can while his jeans are still on.

“Fuck,” he says as he sits back, separating you from him and undoing your jeans. He pulls your pants off, and you help him shimmy them down in the small space of the car. Your underwear comes off soon after, discarded under one of the seats. You’re already wet enough to be glistening, and Jaehyun decides to take a taste of it, maneuvering you both so he can bury his mouth between your thighs.

You whimper quietly as he licks into you and pulls your clit into his mouth, curving his fingers inside you just like he said he would in all those nasty messages you sent to each other. Your mind and body are electrified with how good it feels, your hips pushing up to be closer to his mouth as he indulges in you, making a mess of his face.

Before you can come, though, Jaehyun pulls away from you, which makes you curse. You reach for him, though he’s quicker than you and shies away from your grasp. “Get back here before I kick your ass.”

Jaehyun pushes his pants and underwear further down, revealing his hard dick to you. “I’ve got somethin’ better for you. Get on your hands and knees for me.”

More shuffling ensues as you balance yourself on your hands and knees on the backseat of the car, Jaehyun settling in behind you. “This ain’t very comfortable.” It’s not the worst thing in the world, but there are definitely better places to fuck than inside a cramped vehicle.

“Sorry, babe. I promise the next time we have sex will be on a feather-lined King-sized bed, but until then…” The tip of Jaehyun’s dick slides across your ass and then through your pussy lips, nudging at your entrance. He teases you by pushing it in and then taking it back out, and you quickly grow tired of his games, wanting him to fuck you for real.

“Haven’t we both waited long enough?” You wiggle your ass against him and try to back up so he’ll slip inside, but he holds your hips in place and continues rutting against you like it’s the only thing he wants to do.

Finally, he acquiesces and slides inside of you, and you both gasp into the heated air of the car at this raw contact. Your fingernails make little imprints in the fabric of the seat as you hang onto the material, letting a shuddering breath pass through your lips. Jaehyun is hard and thick inside you and stretches you out nicely around him, filling that space inside of you that needed to be satisfied.

Your head hangs low as he begins thrusting into you, a little slowly at first and then more steadily as he gains a good rhythm. You keep your moans to a minimum, afraid to alert anyone outside to your presence in the car—even though they would most definitely see you before they hear you. Jaehyun isn’t having that, though, as one of his hands sneaks around to your front to stroke your clit; the added sensation makes you push back against him harder, wanting him as close as possible.

“Why are you hiding those pretty sounds, Noona?” he asks teasingly. “You told me all those times over the phone how you wanted to moan for me...why aren’t you doing it now?” He rocks his hips into you a little differently, rubbing against your spot, and you can’t help the groan of pleasure that slips out after that motion. You press your sweaty forehead against the seat, trying to gather breath. You never thought of yourself as being someone who gets off on honorifics, but in this context, it’s doing something to you.

“We’re in the middle of a parking lot, if you didn’t notice,” you say through gritted teeth, trying to keep your voice low and steady as he keeps sliding against that spot, the soft slap of your bodies being the loudest sound in the car.

“A nearly empty parking lot at night,” Jaehyun retorts, pressing his fingers more firmly against your clit. His hand slides lower to where you’re connected, and he uses your wetness to help him circle his fingers more smoothly. You can only roll your eyes; he has a response for every argument you try to bring up. You can’t be bothered with that, though, as your mind gets increasingly hazy from how he continues fucking into you without a single worry.

Your attempts to stay quiet become more difficult as Jaehyun’s pace increases, like he’s purposely trying to overwhelm you with stimulation. The one hand that was still holding your hip comes to your front like the other, though he reaches up higher so he can grasp one of your breasts, pinching at your nipple.

“Fuck, baby,” Jaehyun grunts, pushing into you hard enough to make you yelp. “We waited too long for this. Should’ve just fucked you in the practice room.” A moan slips out at that, even though you try to hide it, and of course Jaehyun doesn’t miss it. “Do you like the thought of that? Want the whole group to see you taking my dick? Little exhibitionist.”

You can’t deny how your pussy throbs at the idea, even if you won’t say it to him. Not that you would need to; he can probably feel it. “That’s y-you! Th-this was your idea, pervert.”  

“Stop acting like you don’t love this dick.” It’s getting to the point where you can feel yourself climbing that summit towards your climax, yet you still need that extra push to get you to the top. If there’s anyone else in the parking lot right now, it’s already too obvious what you’re doing inside the car, so allow yourself to forget about trying to be inconspicuous and freely push back on Jaehyun’s dick, whining at how deep it reaches inside you.

More sweat gathers on your skin, and you’re sure the windows must be steamed up by now.

“Hope you’re gonna soak me,” Jaehyun says, pressing himself closer to your body so he’s draped across your back. The hand he was using to fondle your tits darts to your lower body, and he wraps his arm around your hips so he can hold you in place as he hammers into you. This move pushes you off the edge you’d been clinging to, and you scratch the seat’s material and moan loudly as your walls clench around him and draw him further into your willing body, trying to milk him for his own release.

“God, Jaehyun, please fuck me, please, yes.” You chant this incomprehensibly, uncaring that he’s already fucking you—you’re still going to ask him for more. You haven’t felt this blissed-out in a while. Jaehyun keeps pushing into you after the first orgasm and pulls another gush of pleasure out of you as he searches for his own end.

It finally comes with him hurriedly pulling out of you to spill his cum on your ass, stroking his length to get every last drop out. He groans deeply as he expresses his pleasure, and his sounds make you clench around nothing, wishing he’d come inside you instead.

Jaehyun wipes his cum off you as you slump against the seat and regain your breath, feeling more content than you have in months after finally unwinding that ball of tension within you. Jaehyun seems to feel the same way he keeps covering you with kisses even as you try to pull your clothes back on, satisfaction coloring his features.

“Look, if you want round 2, you’re gonna have to take me to an actual bed.” You playfully wave away his advances, but not before giving him one last long kiss.

“Say no more.” You both climb back to the front of the car and Jaehyun easily pulls out of the parking lot in search of a nearby hotel, readying yourselves for a long night.ahead.

[captainillogical]

Home Ch.1

The domesticity of living with an alien who hasn't quite had the chance at a normal life. 

Distant Lands sequel.

Spinel/Reader

collab with my lovely wife @firstofficertightpants​ 

thanks for still reading my shit, love you all

You slam the fridge door, taking a swig out of the bottle of water in your hands that you had just grabbed from the top shelf. It’s hot as hell out this afternoon, and you’ve just finished grabbing the last of your stray belongings to move across town.

“-and you need to make sure to keep your phone on, I’ll be sending you calendar updates to your current schedule. Things have been moved around twice for next week, so expect your lesson times to change again.”

“I appreciate all this Pearl, but you’re acting like I’m moving farther than 5 miles and a single warp away.” You say to the gem lecturing you off a list she’s made on her phone.

“I just like to be sure.” Pearl narrows her eyes at you slightly. “I know you’re capable of handling things on your own, I just worry.”

“You fret like you’re my mom.” You retort with an eye roll, taking another sip of water. Garnet grins at that, leaning against the counter. It’s just the three of you here in the kitchen.

“Well, I have known you for quite a few of your formative years.” She huffs, cheeks tinting blue. “I remember when you first responded to that ad Greg put up, you walked in and-”

“Pearl, oh my god, please no.” You cut her off, capping your bottle, it crinkling slightly in your hands.

“I think she’s getting empty nest syndrome.” Garnet says with a small chuckle.

“Y/N, you are sure about this, right?” Pearl ignores Garnet’s comment. “I know that living on your own can be fairly difficult as is..”

“We talked about this extensively yesterday, Pearl.” You sigh, giving her a specific look. “I’ll be fine. I’ve been through hell already enough as is, this will be a walk in the park for me. Besides, I’ve got Spinel.”

“That’s kind of what I’m worried about.” She replies, levelling her gaze with yours.

You try not to sigh out loud at her again.

Okay, so. Really, it's been less than a week since you've solidly been back on Earth. You can't reasonably expect Pearl of all people to be one for quick adjustment. But you did spend a long time with her the day prior going over all her questions about the surface of Golgotha for an updated gem archive entry she's working on. You were kind of hoping it would calm most of her worries about this in general, but you feel like based on some of your responses it might've made her worry even more. Not to mention paired with that incident in the kitchen the other day with Amethyst..

Even if it was a little painful for you for multiple reasons; like having to re-live terrifying moments in detail - it wasn't as painful as the BARRAGE of questions she pummelled you with about the nature of your relationship with Spinel once she got you alone. Fucking mortifying, that was, when Pearl had the audacity to ask if you two had been like this prior to coming back to Earth. You tried keeping much of it to yourself as possible as you aren't super well-adjusted to everything yourself. Like jesus fucking christ, Amethyst and Garnet accepted your text message without much question, other than a thumbs up from her and a solid wall of emojis and expletives from the shorter gem. And maybe a couple roasts about it that you're not going to mention. But they had managed to accept it without embarrassing you much, why couldn't Pearl be less.. Pearl about it?

“What do you think is honestly going to happen?” You retort flatly.

“Well, I don’t have-” Pearl stops to spare a glance at Garnet, who barely even reacts.

“Future-vision is cheating.” She says, lips still forming a wry smile. “She will be fine as long as she remembers to make sure the oven is off.”

“You’re gonna make me paranoid..” You groan. “And see Pearl? I’ll be fine.”

“If you say so." She says like she's waiting to be proven right somehow. You know her enough to not be offended by it. "You didn't forget about your stuff in the bathroom, did you?"

"Nah, but it's not like I won't be back, y'know, in-case you maybe find my missing rubber ducky." You say, feeling your stomach rumble. "And while I do love you both, really, I've got to go get some food in me and finish the lesson plan for next week.."

"Fiiine, go! Clearly we're just here to nag you." Pearl says with a bit of a huff, slight pout on her face, but you can tell she's mainly doing it for the dramatics.

"Don't be like that." You hold back rolling your eyes at her, even if you really want to. You grab the bag with the rest of your things off the counter, shouldering it.

"Did you give me sitting in and watching your first class any more thought?" Garnet asks, resting her hands on her hips. You can't see her eyes, but you know if you could she'd be studying your face for an answer. "It might help with the nervousness you're feeling."

"Yeaaaaaaahhhh," You let out a breath a bit nervously, having given that exactly zero extra thought. "I'm still pretty sure that you'd just give me performance anxiety. Give me a few more days to think about it."

You say your goodbyes for now, toeing your shoes on and heading out the door down to the beach below.

Ugh. It's hot, and so is the sand.

You should think about finally replacing your old car. You know, the one that died last year that Peridot said was worth more in scrap metal? You miss that old junker. You'd have to save up a considerable amount of money you don't have, but, ugh, you'll think about this later.

The breeze makes your hair fly into your face, and you're annoyed the entire walk over to town. Your stomach growls again, and you decide on pizza for your afternoon lunch.

It's kind of a no-brainer when your feet lead you to Fish Stew Pizza, and your hand is already on the door handle and opening it when you subconsciously realize a small hangup, possibly, just as the door opens.

Kiki's inside and manning the counter, and she's the only one in the establishment at all currently. You let out a breath of relief.

"Weeeeeeelcome." She greets you without even looking up from her phone.

"Afternoon'." You say in greeting, feeling awkward preemptively. Kiki looks up immediately when she hears your voice, and her facial expression is completely surprised at yours at first before she quickly schools it to more of a casual, neutral one.

Ah. Lars came through.

You see.. after that first day back you utterly loathed the idea of explaining why you're now pink to literally everyone else, and Lars offered to send out a couple quick informative texts. What a fucking bro. You should probably help him out sometime just for the effort alone.

"Y/N, it's good to see you." Kiki says, trying not to be too obvious that she's giving you a glance-over.

"Thanks, you too." You hear coming out of your mouth, the air conditioning of this place cooling you off rapidly. God you even SOUND awkward. "It's pretty empty in here for the time of day, that's kind of odd."

"Yeahhh, but I'm not gonna complain about it. I'm covering Jenny's shift right now and I'll take the slowness if it means I can just be on my phone.." She's staring at the scar on your face, and you feel.. weirdly self conscious about it.

"Typical Jenny. You gotta stop going easy on her." You reply, leaning against the counter.

“Oh, I wasn’t going easy. She’s doing my chores this week because of this, so actually she’s the one getting the short stick out of this. I had nothing planned with my time off.” She sets her phone down, and oh my god, she will not stop staring.

“Will you just say what you’re thinking and get this over with?” You spit out, impatient. She reels back for literally only a split second before leaning forward eagerly and getting right into your space.

“Lars wasn’t fucking lying, huh. That place messed you UP.” She reaches over the counter to touch your hair, and if it were nearly anyone other than Kiki you’d punch them in the face. But she helped you deal with her sister back then, so. “I saw you maybe a week and a half ago, and now look at you! Pink like Lars and with a giant scar on your face to boot! What didn’t happen to you there?!”

“I er, didn’t get the face scar there, and it wasn’t the only one I gained.” You say with a grimace. Your stomach growls again. “How much exactly did he tell you?”

“What!? I mean he told me about you being kidnapped by a deranged gem and that you died, but that was about it!” She replies, expression bewildered.

You sigh. God. Okay. That’s not the worst thing he could’ve told people. But he’s not making this any easier for you anyway.

“Listen, can I order a small plain cheese pizza? And then I’ll enlighten you.”

“Yeah, you got it.” She grins, getting this spark in her eye while ringing you up and even giving you a hefty discount. It’s why she’s your favorite sister of the two.

You move to sit by the window table, setting your bag down on one of the other chairs and pulling out your lesson notes.

You don’t really feel super up to this right now, but you should probably go over a few things by yourself that Pearl gave you some pointers on. You’re nervous, like really nervous about teaching this class, if you’re honest with yourself. But you also think it will be fun, and interesting, even. You’re only giving two hour-long lessons a week for right now, as the others wanted to see how well you’d fair. Your first lesson is in just a few days. Also, the class currently has 43 gems signed up for it, and that’s quite a bit of a hefty crowd.

You were expecting an interest of maybe.. 4 gems total. This is a little unnerving. You only have the one flier posted up with the other new classes on that board, so you’re guessing word of mouth was how it spread.

You feel your phone buzz a couple times in your pocket, and you pull it out to see who it is. When you see who the messages are from, you can’t help but feel a smile break out on your face that you have a hard time suppressing. Oh, and whoops, you forgot to reply to her earlier messages while you were being lectured by Pearl.

[14:13] Spinel: uuuuugh i just want today to be OVER please

[14:13] Spinel: i think bismuth enjoys sending me to help peridot like some kind of sadist

[14:13] Spinel: its like she knows i dont want to hear about camp pining hearts for the third day in a row? i get peridot needs assistance but i haven’t even seen this show and now i have no need to ever physically watch it

[15:42] Spinel: you can’t ignore me in person Y/N

[15:42] Spinel: i haven’t seen you in two days and this is how you treat me?

[15:42] Spinel: like an afterthought?

[15:42] Spinel: hurtful

You roll your eyes to yourself, still grinning. You can feel affection coming through the words even if that isn’t what they’re saying. You’re also ecstatic at the concept of the others getting on with Spinel quickly enough to annoy her on purpose now. You miss her face, and feel a little silly about it, considering it hasn’t even been that long. It sucks, but at least she texts you fairly often. And as of today, well, you get to live with her.

[15:43] Y/N: Rest assured, I can ignore you in person.

[15:43] Y/N: Dramatic ass.

[15:43] Y/N: I’m going to be seeing you in like, an hour anyway. Chill.

“Why are you smiling like that?” You hear, jolting upright in your seat as Kiki sets down your personal pizza in front of you with a glass of water. It smells heavenly. “You never smile like that.”

“Uh,” You reply, caught off-guard, and set your phone down. “Was just replying to something funny Steven said.”

“Sure.” She says in a tone that screams ‘I don’t believe you whatsoever but okay’.

You reach out for a slice of pizza and take a bite, cheese almost dripping all over the lesson plans in front of you. Kiki moves the papers aside for safekeeping, and you mutter out a quick thanks.

“So,” She starts, resting her chin on her hand. “You gonna enlighten me, or what?”

You finish chewing your slice of pizza, and grab another. And then you indulge her questions. All of them.

She has a lot.

You leave out all the details of what happened between you and Spinel, you’re really not ready to have those kinds of conversations yet. Dealing with Steven giving you shit for it has been more than enough to want it from anyone else, and you haven’t even told Lars about it - even though you told him you would whenever you finally confessed to her.

Also.. uh. You won’t lie. Between the both of you being pretty fucking busy almost right off the bat, you haven’t exactly, er. Had the girlfriend conversation with Spinel yet. Other than that one night, people are always around you two. You know you gotta just talk to her about it to clarify, but shit, you’re stupidly anxious about it. Part of your brain is literally screaming at you about being stupid about it, because sure, you had the most nerve-wracking love confession of your life and you two boned and also she definitely said she felt the same way, but what if this is just real casual to her?

Oh my god, you over-think fucking everything. Get it together.

You think not seeing her for two days in-person might be driving you nuts, a little.

"Lars didn't really tell me anything about Spinel. He gave me the jist of it, but told me to ask you for everything else whenever you seemed okay with it." She lets out a long breath, and you watch her eyes focus on you. "Imagine what would've happened if you weren't there with him that day. Do you think she would've killed him?"

"I'm not entirely sure. Honestly? She definitely had the strength to, but it doesn't really matter to me now. She wouldn't harm a hair on anyone's head." You reply, trying to not mull over the Spinel you experienced when you first met.

"You seem to have full faith in her." She states, a small smile forming on her face. "You didn't treat any of the other gems that tried killing Steven with any kindness for at least a month. You're less forgiving than Pearl."

"I spent a month with her alone on a planet, Kiki. I had to learn how to work with her, and she saved my life." You retort.

"Yeah, only cause you put yourself in danger for her." She narrows her eyes at you. “And you’re moving in with her today?” Kiki asks, expression a bit suspicious, smile still on her face. This makes you uneasy.

“Yeah?” You reply, confused. “It’s not that weird, is it? I moved in with Steven fairly quickly.”

“Yeah, except that was a different type of situation, you were a guardian for him. And this is you we’re talking about here.” She levels you with a look. “I feel like I’m missing something you’re not telling me. Like a key part to all of this.”

“L-like what?” You shove another slice of pizza into your mouth to shut yourself up. Not fucking today, dammit. Not today.

“I dunno, there’s just something..” She trails off, her eyebrows drawn together on her forehead as if she’s got a thought within her grasp. She looks at your hand, grasping your phone, squinting her eyes. She then shakes her head. “Whatever, you’ll tell me eventually. It’s not as if you’re sleeping with her.”

You choke on the slice of pizza you’re currently chewing, and violently so.

Kiki’s eyes go wide, and you put a hand up as if you can stop whatever thoughts are racing through her head. Her jaw drops.

“Wait,” You manage to choke out, gasping for air and finding it very difficult. You can't tell if you can feel your face going red from the lack of air, or from this conversation.

“Y/N.” Is all she says, voice dripping incredulously. “Y/N!”

“Kiki, you have the wrong idea-”

“I cannot believe you.” She says, mouth still open. She’s got half a grin on her face like she’s just unearthed the most juicy gossip, and you are SO not here for this. "Wait until Jenny hears about this."

"Kiki!" You wail, and sputter out another cough. "Kiki you can't tell anyone!"

"Why not!?" She cackles. "And besides, I don't even know if she'd believe me anyway. Y/N of all people?!"

"Tell her, and I'll tell Sadie you had a crush on her for a year." You spit out in a panic.

"You wouldn't!" Kiki narrows her eyes at you, face of mock betrayal.

"I would. Watch me." You state, grabbing your phone off the table pointedly.

"Okay okay! Sheesh." She puts her hands up in surrender. "So you gonna tell me the dirty deets or what?"

"No, I don't kiss and tell." You scowl at her, but she doesn't seem put off by it at all.

"Knowing you, that doesn't surprise me." She grabs your glass of water, taking a sip of it. You're not even annoyed. "Guess you and Greg have something in common."

She laughs at her own joke, and you can't help putting your face in your hands and groaning loudly and dramatically. It only makes her laugh harder.

"Shut uuuup." You sigh, grabbing the glass of water from her and taking your own sip.

The two of you talk for awhile as she grills you about Spinel, and you share what you're comfortable with. Eventually, she gets a family of customers in that she has to attend to, and you busy yourself with what you had come here originally to do.

Time passes and you lose track a bit, until your phone vibrates on the table and shakes you out of your concentration.

It's a couple texts from Spinel.

[17:04] Spinel: it'll be a while until I'm free

[17:04] Spinel: there were some ISSUES apparently

You stare at your phone. You try not to be irritated at the situation.

It's not like you haven't seen her in a hot minute or anything. You weren't eager at all to be able to see her face or hear her voice. You sigh, and text her back.

[17:05] Y/N: It's fine.

You stare at your phone for a little bit, but she seems busy enough to not have the chance to respond quickly.

Fuck it, it's not like you have anything else to do. You're tired of the papers and notes in front of you. Might as well make your way over to little Homeworld and wait for Spinel to be free from Peridot's tiny demon hands.

You pack up, and make sure to say your goodbyes to Kiki, who yells at you to text her as you leave the shop.

It doesn’t take you that long to get to little homeworld, and thankfully you know where Peridot is usually working as of late.

You pass by the town center, and the glass in some of the taller buildings glare in the evening sun. There's quite a few gems around, working and building, many conversing with each other. There's a couple humans intermingled with them as well. The general atmosphere is pretty lovely here. You like it.

A Rose Quartz bumps into you on the sidewalk and your bag flies off your shoulder, spilling the contents onto the ground.

"Ah! I'm so sorry!" She spins around, arms out to make sure she didn't shove you off of the sidewalk as well. "I'm just so clumsy." She says, pushing her long pink hair over her shoulder and grabbing for your things on the ground before you can even think to scoop them up yourself.

"It's okay, I wasn't exactly paying attention either." You reply, grabbing the papers that flew out of your bag and onto the street. Thankfully, nothing's damaged. She hands you your stuff, and you place it back into your bag. "Thanks."

"It was mostly my fault anyway." She grins lazily, and you watch her eyes wander around the area of your face where you have that scar. "Hmm, I feel like I've seen your face around here before. You hang out with Steven?"

"You could say that." You smile back at her and shoulder your bag. She's got this way about her that makes you think she's analyzing you, but not out of judgement. "Why?"

"No reason! I'll see you around, cutie." She says with a sly grin and a wink, and you're standing there feeling completely taken aback. Your face heats up a little in embarrassment. That was.. okay. Whatever the hell that was.

You keep walking, mind wandering as you try to figure out what the hell that gem's deal was.

You manage to spot Bismuth near a building with more scaffolding than anything else, and she's huddled with Peridot, Lapis, a couple quartz, and Spinel. You won't lie to yourself when your heart does a little summersault in your chest when you spot her magenta twintails.

They're talking loudly and animatedly about something you can't manage to hear from this distance, and you don't bother to get any closer. You duck into the entryway of a nearby building less than a hundred feet in distance from them just to linger for a moment.

One of the Quartz says something, and they all erupt into laughter, and your eyes are trained on no one but Spinel. There’s something about watching her like this that makes your heart swell, and you feel a bit ridiculous over it. You feel your phone buzz in your pocket, and you tear your eyes away to check it.

It's a message from Steven.

[17:37] Steven: can I ask you for a favor? It's not work related.

[17:37] Steven: Connie's parents invited me to dinner

[17:37] Steven: hELP

You stare at your phone, feeling your face break out into a grin. Someone tries to get into the shop you're standing in front of, so you side step to move out of the way momentarily.

[17:38] Y/N: Haha oh buddy.

You look up after sending the message just to make sure you're in no one's way, and you happen to see Spinel just as she's turning her head in your direction, aaaaaand she's spotted you.

Her face brightens up immediately.

She says something to the others, and most of them turn their faces to peer at you. Your face heats up, and one of them cracks some kind of joke that makes half the others howl in laughter as one of the Quartz slaps Spinel's back in jest.

What the fuck are they saying?!

She manages to disengage herself, waving a couple loud goodbyes as the others let her go. It sounds like they make another joke at her expense, they all laugh as she runs to catch up to where you're waiting for her.

She groans as she reaches you, bringing her gloved hand up to her forehead to shield her eyes from the sun.

"What the hell did you say to them?!" Is what comes out of your mouth instead of a greeting. You glare at the others, and you can’t tell if they can see your expressions, but they sure are howling with laughter.

"Well hello to you too," She replies, cheekily scratching the back of her head. “And I didn't say a word! They just.. kinda figured it out?” She says sheepishly, cheeks coloring a bit. “Guess I talk about 'ya a lot, eheheh..”

Oh my god, ugh. You think you're going to have a heart attack, probably. She's looking at you like she’s holding back a lot of affection. Probably for your sake?

One of them catcalls at the two of you, and you hear another whistling. You feel your eye twitching, but the smile doesn't leave your face.

"No, really, what'd you tell them?"

"That you're my girlfriend, you idiot, because they basically knew that already." She retorts with a roll of her eyes. She grabs your hand, and you feel your face heat up even more. "Let's get 'outta here already."

Well. That answers all your insecurities.

You look forward to the next upcoming days.

[lunafaeris-archive]

16 :>

mun views | accepting.

16. On roleplaying in general.

          /I love roleplaying. Even on days where I’m burnt out or just not there emotionally, you can bet that I’m thinking about my muses and how their written interactions with others have shaped and emphasized who they are. And I don’t like sticking to purely one genre either (though I do have a general aesthetic I like to adhere to for the look/feel of my muses). I like writing soft things as a way to wind down after I’m feeling stressed. I like writing dark and/or heart-wrenching things because more often than not that’s where character development rears its ugly head and punches you in the gut, and goddamn if I am not a sucker for a bittersweet resolution (even if it’s not entirely resolved then and there) between characters who have a history, a bond, a ship (major bonus points if it’s a ship because most likely that’s when you know you’re both equally invested, in it for the long-haul and straight-up monsters for making your muses horribly injured, shed tears and/or feel vulnerable: but with a pay-off).

          And heck, even though I’m still a little self-conscious about it, I like writing smut as much as the next guy. Admittedly I’m much more careful when it comes to smut mostly because 1.) for the love of God I don’t want it to come off sounding like cringe and 2.) as a multi-muse OC blog, I don’t have the luxury of having an already widely known and established back story with characters from a popular franchise, major players or otherwise. For me to feel comfortable writing smut, I prefer it when our characters get to know each other first through interaction to see if they have any chemistry and whether or not this is going to be a done deal (this goes for canons AND OCs). Sure, spice is the variety of life and good smut falls under the spice category (mamma mia~), but I want more than just that. If that’s all people are looking for when they approach me, then at that point I start feeling used like my characters are just an outlet for your gratification and nothing else. And that feels slimy to me, idk.

          I went off on a totally different tangent but: I love roleplaying nonetheless and I think one of my favorite things about it is meeting all these wonderful people with similar niche interests, who are passionate about their characters, their series, the fashion, the music, the balls of sunshine, the assholes with hearts of gold, the amoral sexy badass types, the himbos, the girlbosses, the grumpy cats, the tyrannical space overlords, the ‘looks like a cinnamon roll but could actually kill you’ types, the stoic guardian/paladin types, the mama/papa bear types-- you know what, I’m just gonna cut myself off right there because I could go on for days. I guess what I’m trying to say is that I love seeing all these characters and their personalities come together and make fun in this giant sand box we call roleplaying. And I have nothing but admiration for the people who put so much thought, time and effort into making their character and their portrayal truly unique because you know what? That’s their baby. And they should be proud and show them off to the world ♥ .

@kiryuiegerin

[eryiss]

Chapter Five -  The Cut

Summary: Freed and Laxus live incredibly different lives. Freed is a corporate lawyer in the capital city, and Laxus works as a handyman in a countryside hotel. Despite their differences, their lives collide when Freed inherits a house in Laxus’ village, and hires him to make the derelict building liveable. But the closer they get, the more they seem to offer each other. [Fraxus Multi-Chapter]

This was written as my admission for Fraxus Day 2020, hosted by @fuckyeahfraxus​. Hope you enjoy it. Also, this chapter has mentions of bullying and descriptions of blood,

You can read this under the cut, on Fanfiction, or on Archive of Our Own. You can find the chapter masterpost here.

Chapter Five – The Cut

Melancholy wasn't the word. It wasn't.

Freed wasn't the type of person to get melancholy, he had never been governed by his emotions at all. He didn't look back on things fondly, nor did he feel a sense of sadness when parts of his life were over. Yes, of course things did make him emotional, but he was by no means the type of person to feel sad because something was over. Life moved on quickly, and so must he. It was the rational way to live his life.

It was a mantra he found himself repeating over and over again, as he walked through the house.

The nearly finished house.

The place was by no means a model home, but it worked as it needed to. Windows had been fixed, plumbing and electricals repaired, and structure reinforced. Walls were still stripped with remnants of old-fashioned wallpaper sticking to it, and the floorboards were bare, but it was a house again. It needed love, attention, and upgrading for anyone to actually want it. But it was liveable. Exactly what Freed had wanted. So, following the logic he lived his life by, he should want to sell the place instantly and get back to Era and work on his next case. It was the next logical step, and exactly what he should be doing.

Of course, he wasn't. Because despite it being in contrast with how he'd always lived, Freed felt an odd sense of reluctance to leave. He found himself more than once hovering over the call button on Gildarts' phone number, only to return his phone to his pocket with a muttered complaint of annoyance at himself.

It was pathetic really.

He tried to rationalise it, give his feeling a pragmatic explanation. He said it was because the house was an achievement for him. Something he had done with his hands. A practical achievement that stood out to him because most of his notable work was with the mind. And why would he want to leave something like that? It was a monument to what he could do when he put his mind to it, and he was proud.

But that was a lie, he knew that. The real reason he didn't want to sell the house was because it was the only thing tying him to Magnolia. And he wasn't ready to leave it yet.

Yes, of course he didn't need to own a house to visit the town. He had gained a solid friendship with Laxus, and had gained acquaintances with Laxus' own friends, and so he could justify visiting them from time to time. But the issue lay in that he didn't really want to come back from time to time. He'd gotten used to visiting for the weekends, and he didn't want to stop.

And he couldn't do that now. Not without everyone in the gossiping village knowing why he returned. Because they would, they'd see through it like glass, and Freed wasn't able to deal with that.

He wasn't good at being embarrassed. Never had been.

There were few situations in his life where he had actually been embarrassed, something that happened by design. There had been a few unfortunate instances in his teenage years that find themselves replaying in his head on random nights. So he had made a conscious effort to avoid any situation where embarrassment might occur. It was working well, all in all, and yet this village had this effect on him that made him question the choices that had kept him sane so far.

Freed shook his head. He wasn't getting melancholy, and he certainly wasn't getting self-reflective.

It did nobody any good.

He took a small sponge and slowly wiped down the table in Albion House's kitchen. It had been there when Freed had inherited it, and after Laxus had sanded it down and polished it, it was as workable as the rest of the house. Tonight was the first time the table was going to be used for its actual purpose. He and Laxus were going to have a meal together.

That didn't help the situation.

Because, clearly there was something more. Magnolia was a nice town, and the people in it were good to Freed, but nobody got that sentimental over a collection of buildings. People did, unfortunately, get sentimental about other people.

And annoyingly, Laxus was a good person. He was snarky, and had a bite to him, and he could challenge Freed without blinking. But he was also kind, and helpful, and when he was teaching Freed how to wire a socket or plumb in a toilet, he was patient and made sure to keep the mood light; particularly when Freed was on the edge of smashing the porcelain bastard with the wrench. He was a good man, and seemed to know how to handle Freed in whatever situation he was in.

Also, he was beautiful. Freed had withheld that admission for a while, but since they would likely part ways soon he wanted to be honest. Broad shoulders, a thin waist, striking blonde hair and bright eyes. Evergreen had been right; he was an Adonis.

It didn't help he had a rustic charm that attracted Freed more than it should.

Perhaps it was for the best that they wouldn't see much of each other. Freed wasn't the romantic type, he had more important things to do. And his attraction was born out of proximity. Laxus was an attractive man, but he was just a man. In one years' time, Freed would have forgotten about him, and his life would be normal again.

And hopefully those occasional dreams would pass too. Be them the disgustingly sweet, or the more… intense ones.

"Hey," A voice snapped Freed out of his thoughts. "I think it's clean."

Freed frowned, then looked down to the table he was cleaning. One particular part of the table in particular was shining more than others. Freed's hackles rose slightly at the teasing tone in Laxus' words, but he scolded himself in his head. Laxus hadn't known what he was thinking about, all he'd seen was Freed washing a table for far too long.

"Out of interest," Freed said, cautiously. "How long have you been here?"

"Fifteen minutes," Laxus grinned, raising the two pots of Chinese food. "Food might be cold."

"Fifteen minutes!" Freed exclaimed, almost horrified.

"It was like half a minute, moron," Laxus smirked, walking to the table, and placing their take-out on the table. "What were you thinkin' about that hard?"

"A case," Freed lied. He didn't have an active case at the moment, but he was probably going to be helping with one soon. When he went back to the city. Permanently. "It's nothing too troubling, really. It's actually quite an easy case really, but our client is high profile, and they might use our services again should they need it. So we need to be litigious and cordial."

"Can't imagine you enjoy being cordial," Laxus smirked. "Probably out of practice."

"And for that, I don't think I'll pay for my half of this," Freed said, reaching over and taking the pot of food from Laxus' hand.

"Kinda proving my point there, ain't ya?"

Freed smiled a little as he brought the chopsticks to his lips. They were having a meal together as a sort of goodbye evening – not helping with Freed's refusal to be melancholy about the situation. Because not only did it force him to confront the fact he's leaving, he has to do so with the man who's making it a lot harder to do so. Worse still, Laxus had looked so damn charming with a tediously honest smile when he'd suggested they eat together. It had sent a little jolt through Freed.

Bastard. Maybe he was doing it on purpose.

"I saw Cana while I was waiting for the food," Laxus spoke again, garnering Freed's attention again. "She mentioned that her dad's looking forward to seeing what we've done with the place, apparently he's been excited about it."

"Is he interested in buying it?" Freed asked, frowning.

"He's your estate agent, Freed," Laxus said in a deadpan voice, though he was clearly fighting a smile. "You should know that. It worries me that you don't know that."

"Gildarts is Cana's father?" Freed frowned further. "They have different surnames?"

"Fuck, sometimes I forget you ain't from here," Laxus laughed loudly, leaning back in his chair and grinning. "There's a hell of a lot you don't know, isn't there? Well, guess the best place to start is with Gildarts, ain't it. Or I guess a more accurate name is Gildarts, Man-Whore Extraordinaire."

And thus, Laxus began to tell the rumours and stories about what Gildarts was like when he was younger – he really did seem to earn the title Laxus had given him – before trailing off to the other stories about Magnolia. He spoke about his hometown with a level of enthusiasm that Freed enjoyed watching, and found himself getting enveloped in the worlds that Laxus was describing. Though he might not be quite as eloquent as Freed was, he certainly made up for it with boisterous laughter and an odd amount of glee at exposing his friends embarrassing stories.

It was almost enough to distract Freed from what Laxus had said. 'I forget you ain't from here.' It was a little sentence, probably a throwaway thought to Laxus, but it made Freed feel oddly comforted. As if he had been accepted into this little community.

A ridiculous idea, really.

He blinked to stop that train of thought, and focused on the story about Elfman. Apparently he had been dragged into some comic book convention by his sisters and had been forced to dress as a monster from a book series. He apparently hated every moment of it, and Laxus had spent the years following showing the pictures of him in the costume at every opportunity he could. To prove his point, Laxus had pulled out his phone and showed Freed.

It was a better costume that Freed expected. But it revealed far too much for the shy, younger version of Elfman that Laxus had described.

Freed did find himself distracted by Laxus, thankfully. But it wasn't quite enough, because as he listened, he absently lowered his left hand under the table and started to swirl his finger against the palm of his hand. Perhaps he wouldn't have noticed the return of his nervous tick, had it not been for the raised scar that he grazed lightly.

It was new, and when he touched it and thought back to its origin, any lie about not being melancholic was shattered.

~~~

"Shit. Fuck. Fuck."

Freed hissed, pain splitting from his left hand up into his arm. He stepped back slightly, eyes flickering to the large gash that he'd just given himself, along with the thick blood that was fighting to get from it. It was a nasty looking cut, and Freed found himself unable to look away from it.

Laxus, who had been crouching down and pushing new floorboards into place, glanced towards Freed with a slight grin. The expression fell when he saw blood drip onto the floor, and he stood up quickly and walked to Freed's side. He took Freed's injured hand in his own, and let out a small hiss of sympathy as he saw the cut. Ridiculously, Freed couldn't help but note that Laxus was holding his hand for the first time.

"That's pretty nasty," Laxus commented.

"Is it," Freed muttered. "I thought it was a papercut."

"Good, if you can be a dick then it ain't that bad," Laxus smiled. "Come on, we need to wash it."

Not removing his hand from Freed's wrist, he dragged the lawyer from the cottage's sitting room and into the kitchen. Freed didn't fight it, instead focusing on catching the droplets of blood rather than letting them land on the carpet and stain it. It was a good enough distraction from both the stinging pain that was running through him, and the presence of Laxus being so close.

It wasn't a distraction from the embarrassment of the situation. Because after being successful at almost every task Laxus had given him, he cut himself sawing off the edge of a floorboard. Out of all the tools he's used, he was bested by a sawblade.

"This ain't gonna hurt a bit," Laxus promised as he opened the faucet and dragged Freed's hand under the stream of water.

Laxus Dreyar was a lying bag of shit.

"Mother fucking crap-whore!" Freed practically yelled. There was a moment of silence, Freed almost panting with pain, and Laxus biting his lip. A second later, a loud, unabashed, raucous laughter filled the room. Laxus actually doubled over he was laughing so much, resting his hands on his thighs while Freed glared at him from the sink. "I'm glad you're enjoying this so much."

"I'm sorry," Laxus grinned, something almost akin to a giggle slipping out. "I really am."

"No you're not."

"I'm not," Laxus agreed. "It was fucking funny, man. I ain't ever seen ya acting like that. Just caught me off guard," He glanced up, met Freed's glare, and burst into laughter again. "I'll get a bandage. I'm sorry."

"Thank you," Freed muttered. "And try not to fall, impale yourself on a spike and die. That would be awful."

"Don't worry. Only an idiot could get hurt in this place," Laxus laughed again, and if Freed had something in reach, he would have thrown it at the bastard's head.

When Laxus returned to the kitchen, he was holding the first aid kit that he had insisted they keep in the house; no doubt when the humour of Freed's injury and subsequent cussing died down, Laxus would gloat about how right he was with demanding the first aid kit. He carefully guided Freed's hand out from under the stream of water, and patted it dry softly with a towel. Freed winced a little at the pressure on his cut, but didn't say anything.

Slowly, with careful and practiced movements, Laxus wrapped the bandage around his hand. He managed to avoid trapping any of his fingers. Though the white fabric did get stained slightly, it seemed to trap the blood from pouring out too badly. The pain was subsiding slightly now, too.

It allowed him to appreciate how gentle Laxus was being. He wasn't used to thinking of Laxus being gentle.

"How do you know how to do this?" Freed asked, sitting at the kitchen table.

"I used to have to do it all the time," Laxus sighed a little as he spoke, removing his hands from the bandage and inspecting his handywork. He looked up to Freed, who was frowning at him slightly. "I had a lot going on when I was a teenager, got into a lot of fights. Well, that's how I saw it. Turns out I was kind of a bully."

Freed frowned deeper. "You were?"

"Yeah. Didn't think I was, at the time, but I went to therapy for a while and she called me out on it," Laxus shrugged. "But yeah, a couple times a month I'd fight some kid. Had a superiority complex or some shit, wanted everyone to worship me and do what I want. Cringey teenager shit and a lot of aggression, bad mix. Eventually, when the guys started to fight back, I needed to learn some basic first aid."

When Laxus looked up, Freed had an expression of curiosity on his face. It clearly wasn't what Laxus had expected.

"Was it the therapy that made you stop, then?" Freed asked, and Laxus seemed blind sighted for a moment.

"Er, no. Not exactly," Laxus shook his head. "There were two kids that pissed me off more than most, don't know why. So when things were getting bad, I kinda… targeted them more than anyone else. Natsu and Gajeel, you might have met them at some point. Fireman and mechanic. But they got pissed at me for taking things too far, jumped me, beat the shit out of me, then went to the principal and told him all the shit I've done. Got suspended, thought about myself, and started meetin' with Porlyusica; she's my therapist. She basically listed all the shit I've done and made me be better."

Freed took a moment to think through what he'd just heard. It was the best thing to do, he'd found out. Sometimes people let out their biggest, darkest secrets to him – the curse of being a lawyer – and your first thoughts on the matter were often unhelpful. So he took some time, and eventually asked the question that seemed most prudent.

"Your principal suspended you without evidence?" Freed asked.

"Oh he had plenty of evidence," Laxus laughed. "Hard to get shit past the guy when he's your grandfather."

"Makarov?" Freed frowned.

"Yeah, used to be in charge of the school. Only retired because the school board forced him to," Laxus grinned. "He started working at the hotel because he found retirement boring," Laxus smiled for a moment at the memory of his grandfather's sudden proclamation he was buying the hotel, before looking back to Freed, smile drooping slightly. "I just admitted to beating up kids and being a bully, why doesn't that bother you?"

"Some of my clients intentionally lower their workers' wages to increase their own paycheque, and then laugh about it," Freed shrugged. But Laxus nudged him, sensing there was more. "Nobody was there best in high school, I certainly wasn't."

"You were a bully too huh?" Laxus laughed, joking.

"Well, not exactly, but I wasn't the most kind," Freed leant back in his chair. "I was the smartest person there and wanted people to know it. I would start discussions on test results just so I could make sure everyone knew I'd gotten one hundred percent. And there was one boy, he wasn't the smartest, who sat beside me in most classes. Alphabetised seating plans and all. I could be rather… patronising to him. I think I had a crush on him, in retrospect. It was probably a twisted way of trying to deal with it."

"You don't seem like that now," Laxus commented. "Other than when you're joking, but I know that ain't serious. What changed?"

"Evergreen and Bickslow essentially told me that if I didn't get over myself, they'd stop being my friends," Freed smiled. "Other than them, I only had my parents. I couldn't lose them."

They sat in silence, Freed thinking back to the person he was in high school, Laxus perhaps doing the same thing. It was an odd feeling, sitting with someone who somewhat understood what it was like being ashamed of the person you used to be, but knowing you've grown past them. Most people, if they did feel like that, didn't talk about it. It was nice to know that, in Laxus, he had someone he could relate to.

It was also nice to know that he had just come out to Laxus and the blonde hadn't so much as blinked.

"I would have kicked your ass if we went to school together," Laxus declared, smirking.

"You would have tried," Freed corrected, allowing the mood to be lifted. "But, as a child I was also an award-winning fencer. I would have stabbed you before you could hurt me."

"Hard to stab someone when you've been knocked out," Laxus grinned cockily, making a fist. This had the unfortunate side effect of making his bicep flex, and therefore Freed had to avert his gaze.

They chuckled together, enjoying their joke that wasn't particularly funny. It was relaxing to be around with Laxus, and Freed felt as though he could be honest with him in a way that he couldn't be with others. Perhaps that was because he was the first person Freed had gotten to know deeply since his time in school. But that didn't matter, really. Because the important thing was that he enjoyed Laxus.

"Come on," Laxus spoke again. "I don't trust my bandage work. Let's go to the doctors, make sure you ain't gonna get infected or some shit."

And stupidly, Freed's heart fluttered at that.

~~~

"You really are distracted, ain't ya?"

Freed looked up from his hand, which he had placed on the table and was fiddling with, and towards Laxus. The blonde had an expression unknown to Freed, something between being amused and contemplative. Freed frowned.

"I suppose I am," Freed agreed. "I'm sorry. You wanted to do this and I'm being terrible company. What were you saying?"

"It ain't important," Laxus gave a half shrug. "You wanna tell me what's bothering you?"

"As I said, I've got an upcoming case that could be very good for my company," Freed quickly lied, because the truth was now completely untellable. "It's getting to me a little, but it's not as bad as you might think. I just need to rationalise everything."

"Right. So when I texted Evergreen a second ago and she said you don't have anything planned at work, she was lying?" Laxus crossed his arms, and Freed's eyes narrowed.

"You and Evergreen talk?"

"You can bullshit me all you want, but I'm gonna be able to see through it," Laxus said, ignoring Freed's question. "And you don't have to tell me what's actually bothering you, because if it ain't my business then it ain't my business."

Freed wanted to snipe at him. Ask him why, if he believed his words, was he still talking?

"I'm just gonna say this," Laxus continued. "Nothing has to be done if you don't want it to be."

And, in a way, there was the reality that Freed had been hiding from. Because, as much as he didn't want to leave Magnolia behind, he also didn't want to let himself think he could stay. The hard line he had always drawn with the house was that, once it was functional and sellable, he would sell it and get back to his normal life. Not only was it a goal for him to achieve, but it had also turned into a rule he had to follow.

Because his fondness for both the town and Laxus had been gradual, and it hadn't gone unnoticed by Freed. He told himself he had to leave the place behind at some point, and doing that once the house was sold was a way of holding himself accountable. Once the building work had been completed, there was nothing else for him to do in Magnolia.

But that was a lie.

And the only person keeping him true to the rule was himself.

"I always said that I would sell it once everything was fixed," Freed stated, voice flickering into the lawyer tone he denied having.

"Then say something else," Laxus retorted, as if Freed could do that. "Look, I don't know what your life is like when you're in the city. But I know you seem to like being here. So why don't you just keep coming?"

"I-" Freed paused. He needed to think. "My real life is in the city. I can't-"

"Who says that your real life is just in the city? You've been coming here every weekend for months now, it's as much a part of your life as anything," Laxus stated, and his smile made Freed's resolve crumble slightly.

"I told myself that once the house-"

"This isn't about the house" Laxus insisted. "This is about you, fucking idiot. I think being here makes you happy. And if something makes you happy, why stop because of some bullshit rule you set yourself? That ain't smart."

Freed thought, for a moment.

It was almost nauseating to hear Laxus speaking like this, and Freed couldn't explain why. Well, perhaps he could, but the explanation wasn't something he was willing to entertain. Because the only real reason Laxus would be so insistent on Freed returning to Magnolia as he had been doing was because he wanted to keep seeing Freed. He wanted Freed to stop coming as much as Freed wanted to.

But Freed couldn't allow himself to accept that. Because if he did, he'd start wondering why. And then maybe he'd trick himself into thinking that his silly crush was reciprocated. He couldn't.

"There is… more work I could do," Freed spoke without thinking.

"I guess there is," Laxus nodded. "So you're sticking around? For the house"

"For the house."

It wasn't for the house. They both knew it.

[tamakiamajikistentacles]

Apples & Cherries {Katsuki Bakugo}

A/N: Please be sure to reblog, comment, review, and like if you enjoy! Feedback is what keeps me motivated! This is pretty self-indulgent and the fact that my island is named Isla Nova makes even more obvious lol but I hope you’ll enjoy regardless. Also I chose to ignore that the Japanese version of the game apparently adds Island to whatever name you put because I really didn’t want to change what I had in mind!

Never a stranger to late nights in the dorms, she wasn’t surprised to see the lights on in the common room or hear the faint digital noise floating into the kitchen where she stood searching the freezer for a popsicle at almost 1am. Once she had the treat in hand she turned to see who was playing what, but even slouched low on the couch, the shouting gave them away.

“How the FUCK am I supposed to catch this shitty fish if it doesn’t fucking SPAWN?” he complained, grey smoke rising in a thin line from beyond her view.

On the screen she could see a bouncing blonde villager with a fishing rod standing halfway down the pier jutting out into the dark water. In the distant corner of the screen she could see an object floating lazily to the left, and her original idea of walking away was overcome with the need to see the prize within.

“There’s a balloon coming in from the right,” she said, apparently startling him as he sat up quickly and whipped around with a crackling palm. Upon seeing her he lowered his hand with a click of his tongue and turned back to the television, his villager running up the large expanse of beach to shoot down the balloon. In his pocket, a single gold nugget was unwrapped.

“Don’t sneak up on people,” he grumbled, slouching down again.

She nibbled on her popsicle, the cherry flavor pleasant on her tongue. “What were you trying to catch just before I came in?”

“Why do you fuckin’ care?” he snapped, his villager gathering shells on the shoreline.

“I play too and I’ve caught all the fish leaving at the end of the month,” she said as she scuffed her slippered foot against the carpet. “Maybe I could help?”

“Don’t need help,” he said bluntly.

Crunching another piece of her popsicle, she stayed quiet for a moment as she watched his villager stalk the beach for fish to catch. At one point her eyes wandered from the screen to the TV stand itself and she nearly choked on her last bite.

“You got the limited-edition console?!” she nearly screamed, coming closer to where he sat on the couch. “I wanted one so bad but I didn’t have the money to preorder!”

Bakugo sighed and set his joycon butterfly to his left, turning to face her once more with a tired expression. “Are you just going to stand here and bother me until I tell you what I’m trying to catch? Because if that’s the case it’s the blue fuckin’ marlin. Now go away.”

“You were yelling about how it wasn’t spawning, right? If you make a shit ton of bait and keep using it off the pier you can force it to spawn.”

Picking up his joycons he silently resumed his search for more fish. Figuring he truly didn’t want her help she sighed and moved to go to the elevators; she had her popsicle and that could be her victory for the night.

“How much is a shit ton?”

She stopped, teeth sunk halfway into the frozen treat. Turning back to him, he was still facing the TV but his head was cocked as if listening for her answer.

“It depends,” she finally said. “It took me about forty to catch a tuna.”

“Forty?!” he said loudly, moving to meet her gaze. “How the hell am I supposed to farm forty fucking clams and craft bait and it could still not be enough? I’ll be up the rest of the damn night!”

“I…” she cleared her throat and tried again, “I could help you. If we both take a side of your island we can get a bunch and then while you use it I can keep digging. But only if you want.”

He was quiet for a moment and she finished her popsicle as he considered her offer. Finally, his eyes determined, he nodded.

“Alright. Bring shit to make extra shovels because you aren’t chopping any of my trees if yours break.”

She nodded eagerly. “Yeah, sure, just tell me your Dodo code!”

Bakugo watched her sprint into the kitchen to get rid of the popsicle stick before returning to stand by the couch, her hesitance to sit next to him obvious. But even more obvious was a greater threat to his mission for the blue marlin.

“Where’s your phone?” he asked casually. When she furrowed her brows and pulled it from within her shirt as he’d expected, he followed with, “If you’ve got your Switch in there too I’ll actually be impressed.”

Her face went red immediately and she pointed behind her weakly. “I-I’ll just uh…”

He ignored her stuttering and started digging up clams, allowing her to trail off and run to the elevator where she let out a frustrated sigh as the doors closed. Why couldn’t she keep it together?

Going into her room she grabbed her Switch, slightly self-conscious of her choice of cherry blossom custom skin but she pushed it down as she started the game. Once it was loaded and her villager had stepped out of the house she ran back to her orchard and gathered six of her native fruit, an additional offering to her explosive classmate.

She boarded the elevator and was able to gather enough materials for three shovels just in time for the soft ding to sound and the doors to open at the first floor. Rushing back to the common room, she found Bakugo still on the couch but shifted to lean against the right armrest. Before she could think too much about their close proximity she took a seat to the far left and entered her airport.

“Got enough materials to make three more shovels,” she said. “And I grabbed some of my native fruit in case you didn’t have any. They’re cherries.”

“I could use ‘em. You got a thing for cherries or something?” he asked, remembering the scent of the popsicle and eyeing the red stain on her lips.

“Oh, uh, yeah. They’re my favorite fruit,” she replied. “You can judge me if you want but I reset my game until I got cherries. Got ‘em third try!”

Bakugo shrugged lightly as his villager went into his airport. “I can’t judge. Did the same thing to get apples.”

“Are they your favorite?”

“No.”

“Oh, then why did you want them?”

“Are you going to ask this many questions all night?” he asked as his game connected to the dorm’s wifi for a code.

She sighed. “I’m just trying to be nice and make pleasant conversation. I’ll shut up now. Sorry.”

He was quiet, glancing at her as the screen displayed the code and she typed it in, and then exited the small lobby to stand at the end of the ramp to wait for her. They both watched her descent and arrival to his island, her villager titled as an Untamed Lass smiling cutely in a green dress and black beret as she also exited the airport and met him on the grass, dropping cherries and standing back so he could pick them up.

“I wanted apples because when I got my quirk, the first thing I ever blew up was an apple. My parents couldn’t decide if they were excited for my quirk manifesting or upset that they had to give me another bath.”

“That’s kinda the coolest,” she giggled. Catching sight of the black flag with an explosion symbol in the corner of the screen she added, “Your flag’s really cool too. Anyway, do you want me to take the left side of your island’s beaches so you can stay near the pier?”

“That’s fine.”

She set off to her assigned beach, a printed shovel in her villager’s hands. Just as she was stepping onto the sand, she gasped at the sight of a certain squirrel sitting on the beach with a sandwich in hand.

“You have Marshal?! I’m so jealous!”

“First one at my campsite.”

“I love that little blonde bastard.”

His eyebrows lifted at the fondness the would-be insult held but didn’t comment on it as she fell silent, the soft music coming from her console almost synched with the tune coming from the dorm TV. Every so often he could make out the sound of her shoveling up a clam and excited notes trilling at the discovery.

The quiet peace continued between them as they crafted bait at two benches set aside from the pier, her dropping the finished product for him to begin using and then dashing away to find more clams to continue her little farming operation. He gathered the offered bait and stood at the end of the pier to drop the little flakes, backing up when the fish’s shadow seemed large enough for the blue marlin.

It was slow going a first, the bait seemingly wasted as a majority of the shadows were too small to even be worth casting out his line. When he did actually see the right size, he wound up with a ridiculous amount of seabass and the odd olive flounder. He was beginning to understand why she said it could take a while as the sixtieth bait gave a tiny silhouette sure to be a seahorse or clownfish.

A frustrated sigh escaped him as she dropped twenty more bait on the beach before setting out for more. He put them into his inventory and resigned himself to the fact that he was going to be on the couch the entire night tossing bait into the water. Taking his place on the pier he dropped the flakes only to see a large shadow appear, his hope returning just a bit as he cast out but deflating when the harsh vibrations of a good catch didn’t begin as it bit. Then, as if catching a seabass wasn’t bad enough, his fishing rod disintegrated in his villager’s hand.

“For fuck’s sake I hate this,” he growled, eyes closed and fingers pressed to his temples when his joycons were cast aside.

“Here.”

He looked to his left and when she nodded toward the TV he saw the small red toolbox in the sand behind him.

“Thanks,” he grunted as his villager picked it up. “For this and the bait, I guess.”

She shrugged. “It’s nothing.”

Bakugo knew it was just a bunch of addicting pixels they’d paid entirely too much money for but he felt like it was something. He was an unpleasant bastard to be around and he’d snapped at her half a dozen times already in just the last thirty minutes but she’d offered to help and actually done it; it definitely wasn’t nothing so he resolved to be more cooperative if only slightly.

Shaking away his thoughts, bait number sixty-two was thrown and he cast his line, perking up at the heavy vibration in his hands. He didn’t want to get his hopes up when it was likely just an oarfish.

‘Yes! I caught a blue marlin! Listen to this fish. It’s got a point.’

“FUCK YEAH!”

She jumped at his shout but her face broke into a wide smile when she caught site of the large fish in his villager’s hands. She was happy he was able to check it off of his list and even happier that she was able to help even if it was only by digging up and crafting bait.

“You got it with plenty of time to spare!”

“It’s in the critterpedia and once I take the bastard to the museum I don’t give a fuck if I ever catch another one again!” he said.

She chuckled. “Well now that you’ve got your marlin I can head back to my island. Do you wanna kick me out or should I go back to the airport?

“Go back to the airport. Grab some apples on your way out.”

It was progress.

“Thanks, Bakugo.”

After that night their relationship changed from classmates to some semblance of friends who sent each other items in Animal Crossing. Bakugo had asked for her Switch code a few days later and added her through there and through the game to be best friends a week after that. Their text thread was created and almost explicitly used for the purpose of exchanging furniture and alerting the other as to when something was happening on their respective islands to interest them.

He had let her know when Redd showed up with all real art and a white rattan armchair which she had searched for since the game was released. She in turn sent him the black imperial bed he’d been praying would fall from a balloon each time he’d shot one down.

It was a good system, and one that allowed them to get closer to one another in real life too through conversations had about the game. Since the first night when she helped him get the blue marlin she had learned of his quirk manifesting to blow up an apple, that he spent extra for expedited shipping for an Apollo amiibo coin from the UK because he loved the eagle villagers the most due to a book on birds he had obsessively read when he was younger (he also wanted Queenie off of his island—“I kicked that bitch out the second I could!”), and his favorite activity was mountain climbing which is what inspired the jagged cliffs and custom made signs to indicate the sport was welcome on GroundZero.

“What’s the story behind your island’s name, if you have one?” she asked over their voice chat one night as they played. He’d gone home for the first half of the weekend while she stayed in the dorms but he was coming to her island to sell fish and get a model from the ridiculous beaver they both hated.

“You first,” he replied after a long minute.

She shrugged even though he couldn’t see her. “I picked Isla Nova because I think space is cool and novae are beautiful. A bright burst and then a slow fade is tragically poetic.”

“Bring the mood down why don’t you.”

“Your turn,” she reminded. When he was quiet for another drawn out moment, she furrowed her brows, ready to ask if he was still there. He finally broke the silence as she opened her mouth to call his name.

“The world watched All Might’s career end in the heart of Kamino that night,” he said softly. “You know the statue they put up? They called it the statue at ground zero and that it would stand as a reminder of the last act the Symbol of Peace had done to protect everyone. To… to protect some punk ass kid trying to be a hero who got himself kidnapped.”

Her heart broke at the subtle crack in his voice. “Bakugo…”

“That statue is gonna be there for the rest of my life as a reminder that I should’ve been stronger. All Might can tell me it wasn’t my fault until the end of time but I can’t stop feeling like it was. So if that statue is there to remind me that I wasn’t strong then, my hero name is gonna be there to remind me why I have to be strong now and exactly what type of hero I need to be.”

She wasn’t sure what she should say, her mind working to process everything she had just heard. It was no secret to those who paid attention that Bakugo had blamed himself for All Might’s retirement and was self-conscious of the fact the League had sought him out for his potential as a villain; he carried a lot of guilt for things outside of his control. And now he had taken one thing he had control over, his hero name, and built it around that guilt to resolve to be better. The name Ground Zero was his beginning as a real hero and he was willing for it to be his end.

“Does anyone else know about your hero name?”

“Not the backstory, no. Aizawa knows it’s what I put down for my provisional license. I told Best Jeanist first and Kirishima knows too, but other than that you’re the only one who knows the reason behind it.”

Her heartbeat sped up. “Thanks for telling me, Bakugo.”

“Whatever. Are you gonna talk to this buck-toothed asshole or what? He’s by the climbing walls.”

Just like that the mood shifted once again and the calmness of the game enveloped them both. Rainy weather was perfect for fishing and getting the most bells possible for their catches at the late hour, their villagers running about in their raincoats with hers a dotted light blue and his solid green. It was a nice escape, and she enjoyed the peace until she was back on her island and their call had ended.

As she was turning her light off to sleep, she returned to their earlier conversation around his island name and ultimately his hero name. It was strange to have a serious conversation with Bakugo and for it to hold as much meaning as it did made her shudder. On the other hand, it made her cheeks flush to think that he trusted her enough to speak about something so important to him. In two months they had gone from classmates who rarely spoke one on one to friends.

She had to sleep before the grin on her face stuck permanently.

It did return the next day when she found out that her island would play host to shooting stars that night and she eagerly texted Bakugo to let him know, well aware he hadn’t had a meteor shower since they started playing together.

All day her excitement had her wound tightly and hyper, her love of both astrology and space being indulged by Celeste and the beautiful event not able to happen soon enough. Once the blonde came home in time for the class to gather for dinner, he was teasing her for her jitters but happily making plans to meet in the common room around ten to play.

When the time came the common room was empty as expected, their classmates taking a night to themselves in their room after spending so much time with one another. Despite the television being free neither of them docked their consoles to play on the bigger screen, instead opting to play handheld and find a classic rock channel to provide background music to the stars.

Bakugo could admit to himself that he enjoyed this. Quiet music drifting through the air and bright stars across the dark blue sky on his screen was peaceful, something he didn’t get to experience often. He knew the girl sitting beside him was also a big reason as to why it was so nice. Strong, pretty, and sweeter than the nerikiri Sato had served after dinner, he was happy to have her next to him.

They sat together in comfortable silence wishing on the stars, each making their own wordless wishes and wondering if the other was truly making a wish and if so, what was it?

In truth, there were multiple wishes they each made. She wished that she continued to improve with her quirk training, for an opportunity at her preferred agency after the impending summer break, for a safe training camp this year. Bakugo wished for the skills to be number one, for the training to pay off and make him stronger, for the opportunity to redeem himself from Kamino. But they also shared one wish too—I wish there could be more between us.

Nearly an hour after they had sat down Bakugo turned to ask if she wanted to split the last few pieces of desert left over only to find her eyes closed and breathing steady, grip on her joycons slack around a darkened screen. Chuckling to himself, he gently took it from her hand and unlocked it. Tilting the screen up to the sky he held it in his lap next to his own and continued wishing on the stars falling across both screens.

By midnight she hadn’t woken up and his eyes were starting to droop. He kicked himself off of her island and saved her game as his villager returned to his own island, saving once he was able to. The noise of him turning off the TV woke her, her face scrunching cutely as she gained her bearings.

“How long was I asleep?” she asked with a yawn.

“’Bout an hour. I kept wishing on your game so you don’t miss out on any fragments tomorrow,” he said.

She smiled tiredly. “You’re my hero. Thank you, Bakugo.”

He didn’t think her calling him a hero should feel as amazing as it did, igniting a fire in his chest and warming him from the inside out. He wanted to be her hero just as much as he wanted to be a hero in general. He wanted to be her hero, but not as Bakugo. He wanted to be her hero as Katsuki, and maybe the way to get to that point was presenting itself.

“You don’t have to thank me, but if you really want to, how about we go to breakfast in the morning?” he suggested quietly, placing his Switch into it’s carrying case.

A grin bloomed across her face and she nodded eagerly, planning to meet him back in the common room at nine the next morning. He agreed easily. If their friendship could start in the common room, maybe a relationship could too if that’s where they met for a first date.

A/N: Please be sure to reblog, comment, review, and like if you enjoy! Feedback is what keeps me motivated! If you’re curious about all of Bakugo’s villagers, I did make a list but couldn’t find where I wanted to mention it so he has: Coach, Shari, Apollo, Bluebear, Lolly, Hugh, Marshal, Blanche, Rod, & Chrissy. “She” (to continue the self-indulgent nature of this lmao) has Lyman, Katt, Nibbles, Flurry, Olaf, Lobo, Filbert, Francine, Julia, and Papi!

[roseherondale]

Where do you Think You’re Going? (Kit in Thule Part 1 of 2)

Summary: Day 5 of Whumptober 2020. In Thule, Kit was imprisoned for months. Now, he makes his escape, but at what cost? This is part 1 of 2 featuring Kit in Thule. Part 2 is Whumptober Day 6.

Word Count: 2261

Warnings: Major character death (you have been warned), implied/referenced torture, drug use and kidnapping

Read it on AO3 here

His feet ached and his heart pounded as he stumbled along the pavement beside the buildings. After several months of capture, he was unused to exercise and his mind was still hazy from whatever drug he had been repeatedly injected with. Kit huddled as close to the buildings as he could, in order to support himself and to prevent the demons from seeing him.

Thule was overrun by them; they were of every kind, each as hideous as the next, circling through the red skies. Kit needed someplace to hide, but first he needed to get as faraway from Sebastian Morgernstern as possible.

For a moment, he longed for his father; the only familiar person he knew, but he was dead; killed by demons that Sebastian had sent after him once he found out that Johnny had been hiding the descendent of the First Heir from him. Although his father had been stern and cold, he had died protecting him, and it had all been for nothing. Kit was determined to make sure it wasn't in vain.

He had been planning his escape for as long as he could remember. When the fog in his brain cleared long enough for him to think, he had made note of his cell and the people who visited. He had gotten complacent, and gradually they sent less and less people to him; convinced that he wasn't a threat. Though, he was pretty defenceless, with no Shadowhunter training (not that it mattered anymore, since they were all gone), or other skills; he was cunning and smart, and he used that to his advantage.

Within the span of his capture, he had waited and observed, endured taunts of "half-breed" and derogatory terms towards faeries, as well as the physical abuse, until he had the right time. He had heard the guards outside the cell, talking about a celebration that Sebastian was holding on the beach, and knew that it would be the perfect time to escape, as there would be less guards at the compound.

When one had come in to drug him, he had fought back, and managed to drug and lock him in the cell instead. It would only have given him a small headstart but he hoped, with all his heart, that it would be enough.

Each step was painful, like walking on knives, and Kit staggered along, pulling himself up using the building. Exhaustion took over him, and with a spike of panic, felt like the drug. There was no worse feeling than being conscious but unable to think or move, and being overcome by nightmares and memories of the worst kind. He couldn't go back to that. He would rather die.

Kit had grown up in LA, but seeing it now, he didn't remember any of it. It looked so different to the city he had lived in his entire life, and he hated how Sebastian had taken everything he loved and manipulated it into darkness.

The streets were deserted, and although it was likely more advantageous for Kit's escape, it made him feel uneasy and anxious. He glanced around often, and back over his shoulder; twitchy and nervous. Sebastian would have to know by now, and he would come after him.

Kit didn't know why Sebastian insisted on keeping him alive. He would not turn him into a member of the Endarkened because of his faerie blood, but it did not explain why he was still alive, especially since Sebastian was heartless and had no qualms killing anyone.

Kit ducked into an alleyway between two buildings and saw a path that led down to the beach. He ducked his head out and looked, but it was deserted. Sebastian's Endarkened had moved on, and Kit had a sinking feeling that they were after him.

The last place they would think to look would be the beach, and so he scrambled down the rock as quietly as possible, and headed along the edge, avoiding the sand, as it would leave footprints, and sticking close to reduce the chance of him being seen.

He had been travelling for a while, when he saw a cave entrance. Ducking inside, he let out a small breath of relief and dragged himself in further. There was a rocky wall further in and Kit groaned; it wasn't far enough in to provide shelter from the Endarkened if they came looking. Too exhausted to move any further, he lent against it, but fell through, as if it were an illusion.

Although the fall was short, it was painful, as if the drugs he had been given had made him more susceptible to pain. He staggered to his feet, unsteadily and was met with a sword pointed at his neck.

"Who are you and how did you find me?" There was a woman on the other end, her hand steady as she held it. Her skin was pale, and had a grey tint to it, as if she hadn't left the cave in years, and her brown hair fell past her shoulders, knotted and greasy. She wore a simple dress, though it was tore and stained in places.

"Please don't hurt me; I'm not one of them." Kit gasped, trying to move back from the sword. "I'm Kit. Kit Rook. He captured me and I escaped and I just lent against the wall and now I'm in here." He stared at her eyes, "please."

She lowered her sword. "Alright." She placed it against the wall, and came to his side. "I'm Tessa Gray; let me help you."

"Thank you." He whispered.

She led him to a chair in front of the fireplace and laid him down. It was warmer than he would have expected, and glancing around the cave, he was surprised by the amenities inside. There was a small kitchen, with a range, doors that he presumed led to a bathroom and a sleeping area, and the main space was furnished with chairs, cushions and rugs.

"It's not much, but it was the best I could do." She said.

"It's amazing." Kit said, honestly, and she smiled at him, slightly.

"Let me get you some food and water." She disappeared behind him and came back a few moments later with a tray. She took off the cup of water and handed it to him. Kit hadn't realised just how thirsty he was until he handed back the cup to her, empty. Smiling softly, she handed him a plate with bread, dried meat and apple slices, whilst she replenished his drink.

Whilst Kit ate, she sat on the cushioned floor, opposite him, studying him, though he pretended to ignore her. He had many questions adding up in his head; he was curious as to who she was and why she was hiding and how she managed to avoid the Endarkened.

Immediately after he finished eating, she spoke. "What's your story?"

"My story?" He asked, confused as to how much she wanted to know.

"What happened to you?" She asked, softly.

"Oh. I used to live with my father; he was quite shady; he knew everyone's business, including Sebastian's. He did some work for him; found out some information, I don't know what. But when Sebastian found out that he had been hiding me, he sent demons to kill him and Endarkened warriors to bring me back to him. For the last seven months, he's been keeping me locked up and drugged but I managed to get out..." He trailed off.

"You poor thing." Tessa said, sympathetically. "You must stay with me; we can keep each other safe, okay?"

"Why do you want to help me?" He asked.

"I don't know how many of us are left, and I think we should stick together, don't you?" She paushed, then added, as if an afterthought. "I had children long ago; James and Lucie. You remind me of them, somehow." Her voice was tinged with such sadness and heartbreak, that Kit didn't expand on that, nor did he want to ask her any potentially triggering questions. It was obvious, if not from the fact that she was living in a cage, from her empty eyes, that she had been through a lot, likely more than him, and if they were to live together, he wanted to make it work.

"Thank you." He repeated, quiet and sincere. For the first time in months, when the exhaustion caught up to him again, it wasn't tinged with fear, but was a warm blanket of comfort. He curled up on the armchair and rested his head against a cushion, allowing himself to close his eyes. Tessa took away his plates and he listened to her quiet humming as he drifted off. Right before he left consciousness, he could have sworn he felt a hand stroke his hair, and he sighed contentedly, drifting off.

<>—<>—<>—<>—<>—<>—<>—<>—<>—<>—<>—<>—<>—<>—<>—<>

The next few days passed in a blur of joy that Kit had never expected to feel again. Both he and Tessa had been starved for comfort, and having each other was like a lifeline; a single buoy to hold in an ocean that spanned for miles in every direction.

He stood beside her at the sink, a tea towel in hand as he dried the dishes she passed to him.

"Will and I named our daughter after Lucie in a Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens." She said, continuing their conversation.

"Seen that movie." Kit quipped.

"Read that book." She responded at once, rather obviously. "Have you really?"

"Yeah. My dad had a bunch of old films on VHS tapes that I would watch in the evenings, when he went out." He stared down at the plate, ensuring it was dry before placing it on the counter. "What made you name your daughter after her?"

"We both loved the book. He quoted Sydney Carton at me a lot," she smiled, "I loved it and I guess it grew on him a lot."

"Who was James named after?" He asked.

"James Carstairs. He was Will's parabatai and my fiance but he became a Silent Brother before we could marry, and then I married Will. We stayed in touch though; he was important to both of us, and as Brother Zachariah, he died a hero, sealing the Mortal Sword inside the Silent City to protect it from Sebastian."

"I'm sorry." He said, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"There is not a day goes by where I don't think of any of them; my family. There's not a day that goes by where I don't think about joining them," she admitted. "But, now we have each other, and that's enough for now. Something to live for."

He rested his head against her shoulder. "I'm glad we found each other."

"I'm glad you trespassed in my home." She joked, clearing the darker mood into something light and easy. Everything with Tessa was easy; she was the best thing that had happened to him, and if he had to be kidnapped to find her, he would gladly go through it all again. She was a star in the darkest sky; bright, constant and steady, keeping him grounded but full of hope that things could get better with each other.

Suddenly, she froze, eyes widened and alert. "Get behind me." She ordered, just as the Endarkened entered the cave, Sebastian at the front, his eyes cold but twinkling, and knowing his disturbed mind, Kit knew that it couldn't be anything good.

"Christopher, did you really think you could escape from me?" He asked, smirking as though it were all a game to him; as though Kit was nothing but a pawn to be moved around as he saw fit.

He refused to answer. Both he and Tessa were defenceless; the sword was on the other side of the room, and her magic had been weakened.

"Seize the child." Sebastian ordered, bored. At once, one of the Endarkened broke away from the pack and reached towards him. He threw Tessa to the ground and grabbed Kit. Outnumbered, he didn't even try to struggle; in an enclosed space like Tessa's cave, there was no way he could win.

"Leave him alone!" Tessa cried, lunging to her feed and moving forward, crazed. Kit saw her as a sisterly or motherly figure, even after just a few days, and if she felt the same, she now moved as a mother; willing to sacrifice her own life for her child's.

And that was what she did. The sword pierced through her stomach and Kit screamed as he saw it protrude through her back. She gasped, her hands falling to the wound as she fell to her knees. The Endarkened warrior that had wielded it, pulled it out, and the cry that escaped Tessa's mouth would haunt him for the rest of his life.

"Tessa. Tessa." He repeated, struggling to escape their grip to get to her. She couldn't die alone.

A prick stung his neck and he shook his head, pulling away. "No, no, no." He said, his voice immediately becoming distorted, and vision blurring. Though he could only see fuzzy shapes, he saw Tessa fall back, her hand that was outstretched to him, fall to the ground.

Through tears and blurriness, he stared one more time, before being dragged away. Whatever his fate, at least Tessa was back with her loved ones; with Will, and Jem, and James, and Lucie. He could only hope that whatever waited for him, that it spare him quickly so that he could join them.

Thank you so much for reading! I really hope you enjoyed it. I personally haven’t seen anything of Kit in Thule (though I haven’t looked) and I think it’s such an interesting concept that I’m glad I could explore.

Part 2 will be up tomorrow for the next Whumptober prompt. If you liked this and want more Kit in Thule, then please let me know - I’d love to make sure I’m writing things that you all like too. See you tomorrow!

[tattersofthequeen]

Buried Treasure: A Love Story

Inspired by the true, hilarious, story of Pharaoh Tutankhamen. I kind of ran out of steam near the end but WHATEVER I’M TIRED OF LOOKING AT IT.

-----

Alisdair Massom wanted to go home.

The wind whined through the trees bordering the oasis. It smelled of baked stone and desiccated plant matter. The desert wasn't all one kind of landscape, instead ranging from stony hills to pure sand. The ground wasn't as pleasant to sit in as one might suppose: since this wasn't dune country, it was hard as rock beneath a layer of sand, dust, and pebbles.

He scrubbed at his nose with his sleeve, trying to stifle another racking sneeze, and only succeeded in smearing more grime across his face. Everything out here was dusty, from the tents to the people, unless it was flooded. His neck itched abominably where it met the collar of his khakis; he suspected he was starting to get a rash.

On paper, the idea had been thrilling: a month-long trip with Cat, excavating the tomb of a long-dead Egyptian king, had set his imagination on fire. He still remembered sneaking into the Cineplex with her as children and huddling in the dark, her warm hand in his, staring wide-eyed up at the midnight showings of The Mummy's Curse, or Antony and Cleopatra. The glow of the screen had made her face look like an illuminated sky.

He wondered if she knew how many of those trips had just been an excuse to spend time with her, braving his worries that somehow they'd be found out. He wondered if they meant as much to her as they had to him.

The fact that their flight left at an unholy hour of the night, and their assigned seats were three rows apart, ought to have tipped him off that the excursion wouldn't measure up quite as well as he hoped. The fact that he had barely been outside of the same area code, much less the country, should have been another. Still, even after the abundance of forms, the interminable waiting for passport clearance, and the mad scramble for the gate (huffing and puffing under the weight of Cat's luggage), his enthusiasm remained undampened. He'd rested his head against the window of the plane for most of the ten-hour flight, picturing golden idols glittering in the dark, his name in the papers over an unprecedented find, Ca'tra flinging herself into his arms in celebration.

The reality -as he discovered almost from the moment their plane hit the tarmac- was less glamorous.

"Having fun yet, bro?" Archi called, his back set nonchalantly against the trunk of a dead tree. He had to shout a little, to be heard over the clinking of chisels and the calls of the archaeologists gathered in the dig site. Unlike Alisdair, he seemed entirely unbothered by the dirt and the relentless heat, idly juggling a handful of dried dates. Not waiting for the answer, he softballed one at Alisdair's face with a jovial cry of 'catch'.

"Oh, yeah." Alisdair rolled his eyes expansively, and tried to fumble the date into his mouth and not the sand. "Between the bugs and the dirt and the saliva, I don't think I'm ever going to want to go back. How are you not dying of heatstroke?"

Archi rolled his head back with a long belly laugh, slapping his hands against his midsection loudly enough to make the camels shift and grumble in complaint. His grin was a half-moon glow of chemical white against dark, tanned skin. "Oh my god, you should have seen your face, man! I don't think I've ever seen that much spit come out of anything!"

Alisdair folded his arms huffily across his midsection, his face warming as he hunched his shoulders. "It's funny when you're not the one who spent all night cleaning mucus out of your hair," he muttered, and cast a baleful eye at the offending camel. It chewed placidly on the missing lower third of his sleeve, and stared unblinkingly back, daring him to provoke a rematch. The blond's frown deepened, and he shuffled another cautious step toward the dig. Just to be safe.

"Have you seen Cat at all?" he asked. Other than shifting the topic away from his recent humiliation, he'd barely seen her at all since they arrived. It seemed like they'd only just gotten through customs before Tenax- before Professor Almaizan had smarmed his way in ahead of him, and chivvied off his 'field assistant' to discuss the itinerary for their trip.

No matter where he turned, it seemed, their chaperone was always there, watching him intently with sharp amber-gold eyes and full lips quirked in what the younger man was sure was contempt. He could barely get a bloody word in edgewise with her, much less an invitation to sit with her at dinner, or maybe to hold her hand- to help her across the street, of course; God knew what these people spent their money on but it clearly wasn't city upkeep. Any time he'd tried to steal his way up to the second floor of the hotel, where the girls were rooming, Tenax had blocked the way with an unctuous smile and a long, elegant, firmly barring leg. "Terms of the contract," Alisdair's ass.

Worse, all she ever seemed to talk about anymore was how excited she was to be working with the creepy old foreign professor, and how much help he'd been with her thesis. She barely even glanced at the blond youth when he'd squawked in pain at the temperature of the Turkish coffee- much less listened to his concerns.

Alisdair kicked at the sand, his lips pursing at the memory. It simply wasn't fair.

Archi shrugged, pulling his attention back to the present as he nodded across the base camp to the foot of the tomb. "Hasn't come out since they started, I guess." He cast a long, sly glance at Alisdair's dissatisfied fidgeting, freeing a tattooed hand to smooth his beard back into shape. "I mean, she's probably having the time of her life, right? Did you know she licks the rocks she digs up?"

"She does not!" Alisdair gasped, scandalized, his eyes wide. He gave the sand pile another kick, for good measure, sending an industrious dung beetle scuttling for cover.

"Oh yeah, bro, she totally does. Rocks. Bones. AND all those little brushes. She just sticks 'em in her mouth." Hand raised, fingers together, Archi moved his chin up and down behind his hand in a slow, wicked nod. "I've seen her do it. Go check if you don't believe me. Bet she's already licked your old man's shaving whisk."

Alisdair thought about the possibility for a moment, toeing at the sand. There was something under there, he thought, shifting under his boot. He hoped it wasn't a scorpion. "Man," he said at last, "it doesn't even matter if she did. It's not like he ever uses it." Despite the gentle nudges he and his mother had given, the senior Kallus' facial topiary continued to grow, and the expensive father's day gift gathered dust in the bathroom cabinet.

"God." Archi's face scrunched like one of the dates he was juggling. "Do you think he's got.... you know, a second sideburn growing on his chest or something? Just.... taking everything over?"

"Oh," Alisdair shuddered, wishing -not for the first time- that his parents had elected to install a second bathroom. "He does, actually. It's a whole thatch. Thanks so much for reminding me."

A date rebounded off his shoulder as Archi missed his toss with a look of horrified glee.  "Bro, are you fucking serious? Are there pictures?!" His grin widened until it threatened to eclipse his face, visions of blackmail dancing in his head.

Alisdair rolled his eyes, stooping to retrieve the fruit. It wasn't a conscious decision: years of hearing his mother's vendetta against litter had him moving almost mechanically. He wasn't even sure where to throw it once he had it; it wasn't as if an Egyptian desert had compostables bins lying around. His fingers closed around the date, and brushed against the object he'd felt before, just under the sand.

On a whim, he worked his fingers deeper into the debris. It was hard, flat, and rigid: definitely not a scorpion. It didn't feel like much of anything he recognized.

For a moment -just for a moment- the embers of his fantasy caught light again. He saw himself pulling a jewel-studded length of belt free from the sand, or an ancient scroll containing a map to forgotten treasure. He imagined Cat's eyes widening at the sight of it, her mouth falling open in astonished wonder at his luck and talent, apologizing profusely for not having seen how valuable an addition he was to the team. Yes, that would do nicely.

Rocking back on his heels, he opened his hand, dusting away the last of the grit to discover-

"Izzat a piece of beef jerky?"

Archi leaned over Alisdair's shoulder, squinting down at the object. It was not a Pharaoh's belt. It was not a scroll case, either. Instead, he was holding a coal black, withered stick the length of his hand. His nose crinkled in disappointment and revulsion, hand dropping dejectedly to his side. He nearly dropped the thing into the sand before Archi plucked it away from him, bringing it up to his nose like he might an expensive Cuban cigar.

"Blech! It smells like my Uncle Rau's attic!" His friend jerked his head back, expression curdling, and leaned close to shove the object near Alisdair's face. "I mean, I'd still eat it, though. Bet me twenty bucks?"

"Archi, I don't want your-" Alisdair had only just managed to get his feet underneath him before his nostrils were assaulted by something both acrid and faintly herbal. He retched, slapping his hands over his nose, then retched again as he realized the smell was clinging to his palms. "Oh, god, that's VILE!"

"I know, right?! About that bet...."

Alisdair swiped the jerky from his hand, dropping it into a pocket of his khakis, not so much because he actually wanted the disgusting thing anywhere near him as wanting to keep his friend from following through on the threat. "I'm going to go find Cat before you find anything else to shove into your mouth."

Turning sharply on his heel, ignoring Archi's braying laughter, he lengthened his stride across the hard-packed earth toward the dig. He tried to think of Cat's bright blue eyes, her dark curls flecked with glittering dust, and not early memories of his father or the possibility that Archi's little sister had graduated from licking rocks to sampling the shaving cream.

At one point -back when it was first built, Alisdair supposed- the tomb must have been truly magnificent. Sandstone pillars lined the front entrance, still standing firm despite their age, each section painstakingly hand-shaped and still sporting the chisel marks of the artisans who'd sculpted them.

Cat had tried explaining, over the groaning of the camels, the particular types of pigments that would have once decorated them- but he'd been too focused on keeping the constant sway of the animal beneath him from upsetting the contents of his stomach to listen. Now they were the color of dust, the same as everything else in this wasteland.

Most of the structure was still intact, but the section Professor Almaizan had them working in had been dug out in the past year. The pillars near the opening listed slightly, either displaced during the previous excavations or by age.  It made them resemble the bones of some ancient, long dead beast, or the nave of a ruined church, open to the moon. Here and there, colored thread was strung out in careful grids, marking off grids for the researchers to work. Near the northern corner, he could just about glimpse the lean figure of Professor Tenax Almaizan as he inspected their work, his dark shalwar kameez billowing in the hot, dry wind.

Steps had been carved into the excavated stone, or cobbled together from what wood they'd managed to cut, leading down into the guts of the structure perhaps some twenty (steep, gritty) feet. If there was any consolation, he supposed, it was that at least there was shade below the first level. Sweat cooled on his forehead as he passed out of the scorching midmorning sun. The shade smelled of hot bricks and chalk dust.

Steadying himself against the wall with a hand, he tried to picture what it would be like to be the first person to set foot in the burial chamber: torchlight glittering off ancient golden idols, gems the size of his hand, his archaeologist companion pressed close for protection as the withered old pharaoh began to stir-

A hand clamped down on his ankle.

Alisdair's undignified squawk echoed from the walls as gravel crunched under his feet, boots skidding on sand. The attempt to correct his balance, far from serving its intended purpose, nearly sent him over the edge and into the excavation pit. Hands flailing, he grabbed for the scaffolding and dug his heels in, a flush of embarrassment and adrenaline flooding his already heat-blotched face. "Ca'tra," he gasped, voice several octaves higher than he'd intended. "Don't grab me like that!"

Ca'tra Akaata (graduate student, aspiring archaeologist, current leading cause of premature heart attacks) was exactly where Archi had said she'd be: sat in the dirt, having the time of her life. One leg braced beneath her, she stretched the other out as far as it would go, marking her place with her toes as she arched up to grin at him. "Hi, Alisdair! Don't come down, I'm still finishing this section." Her voice was oddly muffled.

Lips twisted into a pout at her clear and total lack of remorse, Alisdair ignored her admonition, edging down the last set of steps- though, as a concession, he was careful to avoid the dig points marked out around her.

As she came into clearer focus, he realized her brother had been correct on another point: The horsehair shaving brush WAS in her mouth. Lengthwise, to be specific, teeth clamped firmly on the mahogany handle. He suppressed a wince at a fleeting image of his father, mouth downturned in a perplexed grimace as he loudly asked where the indentations had come from. Turning her head, she casually spat it into her hand, wiped it clean on a corner of her brightly patterned head scarf, and set it back down in the toolkit. "If you step on anything," she warned, "I won't be held responsible for what the Professor does to you."

Tossing his hair, Alisdair let out what he hoped was a sufficiently dismissive snort. "Oh, what do I care what that musty old pedant says? I was just making sure you didn't need to be rescued from traps or flesh-eating scarabs." Cat blinked at him for a second in mute astonishment, then threw back her head and laughed, dimples forming at the corners of her mouth. The movement revealed a stray, coal-black curl escaping the confines of her hijab. His hand twitched, resisting the urge to tuck it back into place.

"Scarabs don't eat people, Alisdair," she said, once her ebullience had faded enough to talk. "That's just the movies." Her teeth flashed, lower lip pinned in concentration as she picked dirt from a tiny clay figurine. "Then again, they might make an exception for you. Skittering around in the dark, hankering for your succulent flesh." She wiggled her fingers at him. "Skitter skitter."

Alisdair swallowed, hard, and stood up on his toes, shuffling a little further away from the nearby hole in the wall. Not that he believed her teasing, of course, just that he had heard that. Snakes. Liked to hide in holes in the wall. That was it. Just to be safe.

"You are so mean," he huffed. "At least tell me you found old Pharaoh What's His Nuts so we can go back to the hotel and celebrate."

The young archaeologist hummed, gently blowing the last of the dirt free of her figurine, and glanced up at Alisdair with arched brows. "I hate to disappoint you, but old Pharaoh What's His Nuts was excavated years ago, as I told you repeatedly on the way over.” She paused, and hummed thoughtfully, in the back of her throat. “Most of him, anyway."

"What?!" Alisdair gaped down at her. His knees sagged, back dragging over the rough stone as he dropped into an undignified squat at the edge of her workspace. "But I- but you said-" The champagne and press conferences he'd envisioned evaporated like a heat mirage, leaving him suddenly very aware of how hot and dusty and tired he was. "I thought you said this was exclusive!"

Cat rocked back on her heels, resting her forearms on her knees, and gave him a look that might have been pity. "It is exclusive, Alisdair. This is one of the most important digs of the decade. It's a miracle it hasn't been stripped completely bare by looters, or other archaeological teams. It's an amazing opportunity to get hands on experience in the field. I don't know how the Professor pulled it off."

"I think I've had quite enough experience in the field for one lifetime, thank you. I honestly don't know what I was expecting, but it certainly wasn't scorpions, or heat rashes, or all this sand. I don't like sand, Ca'tra."

Cat put the toothbrush back down with rather more force than was strictly necessary. "It's a desert, Alisdair. It's going to have sand. If you weren't prepared for some rough conditions, you could have just stayed at the hotel."

"I wanted to come with you!" Alisdair's voice rose, threatening to become a whine. "I know Professor Musty thinks I'm just a glorified pack mule, but I didn't think you agreed with him."

She sighed, expansively, rubbing at the bridge of her nose. "I know you don't like him, but he's really taking a chance with me on this expedition. It's not my fault someone got here before us."

Alisdair knew he couldn't really argue with her reasoning, but it didn't quell the bitter disappointment pooling in his gut.  It threatened to rise into his throat and choke him. He stared down at the toes of his boots, hands fisting at his sides, and tried to convince himself the stinging in his eyes was just from heat.

"Oh, your professor's so great all right," he snapped. "He's so great that you've been ignoring me this entire trip and dragged me out here where there are scorpions and snakes and heatstroke and spit, and you and your professor'll go on to become rich and famous, and I'll probably die from the curse and all I found out here was a piece of ancient beef jerky!" Without thinking, he plunged his hand into his pocket, flinging the leather down in the midst of her carefully plotted workspace.

Cat's face flushed with anger, her eyes seeming even more intensely blue against the darkening of her cheeks. Snatching the object from among her grid stakes, she pulled her arm back, clearly intending to hurl it right back at him.

Then, abruptly, she stopped dead. Her arm was still poised, fist wrapped around the leather in preparation to send it back in his face. Slowly, she lowered her hand, staring down at the stick in utter bewilderment. "Beef jerky?" she repeated. Before he could stop her, she raised her hand to her face. He had a nightmarish vision then, of her tongue flicking out, flicking out to taste-

"CAT, NO!" He lunged at her, nearly ploughing into her dig, feet skidding as she shot him a murderous look. He teetered at the edge of the colored twine as she brought her hand up to her face again, sniffing once, and then again, more deeply. The flush faded from her cheeks as her eyes went wide.

"Alisdair," Cat said, her tone slow and deliberate. "Where did you find this?"

His brow furrowed in confusion as she held it out to him. "Lying in the sand, who cares, Cat, it's just a piece of jerky. I was going to throw it away."

"Alisdair." Her expression sharp, she leaned forward across her workspace to lock eyes with him. Her hair had slipped even further from the hijab, shading her eyebrow; he took the jerky from her in bewilderment. "Where EXACTLY. Did you find this."

"The entrance to the tomb, I guess?" Alisdair glanced down at the sad piece of leather and wrinkled his nose in renewed disappointment. "It’s hardly the royal jewels, isn’t it?"

But Ca'tra was looking at him now with an expression of astonishment that didn't look like it was born out of mockery, eyes flicking back and forth at some internal dialogue. "No," she breathed, the hints of a smile beginning to grow on her face. "It's so easy. Oh, my god, that's so stupid, I don't believe it."

"Cat?" Alisdair eyed her, warily, his hand still poised in front of herself. He nearly jumped as she lurched to her feet, crossing the dig in one long bound and reached out to grab his shoulders. Silently, she shook him, her face breaking into a grin to rival Archi's. It scared him more than her anger had. "What are you talking about?"

Cat shook Alisdair again, and grabbed his wrist in excitement, her expression very nearly gleeful. "It's been a mystery for years, Alisdair, ever since the Pharaoh was moved from the burial chamber. All those theories! And it was right here the entire time, I could kiss you!"

Alisdair felt his face heat, his anger and frustration leaving him in a rush. His palms prickled as she threw her arms around his shoulders, almost knocking the jerky from his hand. "Oh, well. Um. You're welcome," he mumbled. "What... um. What is it, then?"

"I said they found most of Pharaoh Khem-Adas. Most of him." Cat pulled back, holding him at arm's length, her eyes twinkling. "You said it yourself, Alisdair. The royal jewels! The royal jewels of Old Pharaoh What's His Nuts!" An hysterical laugh bubbled in the back of her throat. "The embalming, the composition, its size- stay right here, I'm going to go find the professor!"

For an instant, still suffused in rosy warmth as he was, the words failed to sink in. Repeating them back to himself, however, Alisdair felt a trickle of dread coil up his spine. He stared down at the mummified leather in his hand, small and roundish and not altogether unlike the treats he sometimes gave Mrs. Almaizan's pomeranian.

Treats that were made of.... of....

"Cat!" His voice cracked slightly, as his flush was replaced with a sickly greenish pallor. He could feel bile rising in his throat. "Are you saying this is.... that I'm holding a-"

“Don’t worry, Alisdair!” She grinned at him, wide and wild, pausing with her hand on the scaffolding. “I’ll make sure you get your picture in the papers! PROFESSOR ALMAIZAN, GET THE CAMERA!"

For such a small woman, Cat's voice echoed across the tomb- across the entire base camp as her feet pounded up the rest of the steps to the upper levels. As his vision began to tunnel, Alisdair thought they could probably hear her all the way back in Cairo.

"ALISDAIR FOUND PHARAOH KHEM-ADAS' MISSING PENIS!”

[blue-honeycomb]

Quiet Devotion 4 [Hawks x Reader]

I'll edit this at a later date...

Summary: Part 4 of the 'Quiet Devotion' series… Somehow this story's managed to wring yet another part out of me. What am I doing with my life?

Reader Details: Emotional, humble, loyal, introspective, independent.

Quirk: Life Fiber (A.K.A Soul Silk).

Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

---

---

Six Years Ago

---

Fast doesn't even begin to cover the sheer speed the winged hero is capable of, and coupled with his reaction time and environmental awareness he seems down right inhuman at times. As far as you can tell there are few skills he's incapable of executing mid-combat and you find it all the more admiral that a considerable amount of that talent is focused on support and rescue work. It says much for his character that life takes precedence over the promise of glory

Memories of darkness and pain nip harshly at the back of your mind, the fear that'd overcome you when the car fire had finally died out was printed red on the backs of your eyelids. You can still smell the stench of burning gasoline and the heavy tinge of sweet iron, the feel of sand in your hair.

You dream of it sometimes, even a year later. You don't usually get back to sleep afterwards either, despite the tear inducing exhaustion riping painfully though your body. Instead you pull up the 24/7 Hero News website and hope that you'll catch a glimpse of red feathers flashing across the screen, hear that smooth, masculine voice quipping at his comrades, snarking at his opponents.

Anything to make you feel safe again. Anything to remind yourself that the dark of your room is only temporary, that the blankets tucked tightly (too tightly, always too tightly) around you are soft and pliant under your hands.

The news plays in the background as you finish washing the night's dishes, reporters droning on about Hawk's exploits in a seemingly endless stream of praise and condescension. Rapidly cooling water drips down the front of the kitchen sink and soaks the front of your shirt despite your best efforts, and you take a moment to unstick the cloth from your skin with water-wrinkled fingers.

The fabric is sopping in some places still, heavy and discolored with dish water despite the wringing you give it. The rain outside seems to somehow add to that feeling of dampness despite you having not been outside all day, the pitter-patter of icy droplets battering your window like icecubes caressing your spine.

It's as you lament the condition of your clothes and the weather that the beginnings of a though begins to take root in your mind.

'If only my clothes were made from my quirk.' You thought exasperatedly, not for the first time, while entering the livingroom to watch the rest of the report before you had to do laundry. 'Then I'd never have to worry about wet clothes again.'

On the news Hawks stands before the cameras with his trademark devil-may-care smile on his lips, eyes half-lidded and entire hero persona picture perfect but for the way his clothes seem to sag and darken unevenly from the rain. A more aggressive reporter manages to sneak in a baiting question about the teenager's glaring inexperience in the field and the winged hero quips back in response, water dripping from the tips of his long deflated hair.

He looks miserable standing in the rain, the bright colors so characteristic of him dulled and darkened by the gray overcast, by the rain soaking him to the bone. Even as he's smiling you can tell it doesn't reach his eyes, barely even manages to fully form on his lips as question after intrusive question is hurled at him from the hoard of intent faces. You don't miss the way he glanced to the side occasionally, towards a rail thin man standing quietly beside him, meeting the teen's gaze every time with a narrow-eyed stare.

You don't think you've ever seen Hawks so unhappy before. Not on the battle field with hellfire raining down around him, nor any of his interviews with a panel of venomous snakes breathing down his back. Not even when he'd misstepped during his first solo multi-villian battle and had more than half of his left wing exploded right off his back.

No. You'd never seen him looking so miserable before and more than anything that quiet discontent in his eyes racked your soul with a sad, profound longing. Without conscious thought the tips of your fingers begun to warm and turn black, dark roots creeping up the veins in your fingers and fading at the knuckles. Moments later the beginnings of your silk spilling forth onto your lap and latching onto your pant legs catches your attention.

It did that from time to time when you got overly emotional. Frankly, the lack of control was embarrassing and never failed to remind you of why you were never able to train it past its current potential. Your doctor had said it was nothing to worry about though, and that you could maintain a normal life even with the occasional accident.

You'd thought about going to a quirk specialist shortly after you'd hit your current limit, but ultimately decided against it when you caught sight of the price tag attached to each visit. You reasoned that even if you managed to start producing more silk there'd be little use for it besides having readily available materials on hand if you ever felt the need to sew. So you dropped the matter entirely and carried on with your life.

Until a year ago, that is, when your whole world came crashing down around you.

You quickly shake those thoughts away, instead focusing on detaching the silk from your clothes before they can weave into the fabric they're touching. Yet another oddity you've had to learn the hard way. For the first twenty or so seconds before it cools and solidifies, the silk will try to latch onto any available surface and meld to it. Honestly, it was more annoying than anything and sometimes you regretted not being able to get it checked out by a specialist.

It took a few moments but you eventually managed to get the silk separated into their individual strains. They're each around ten inches long, though some had managed to stick together at the ends to more than double their length.

Exasperated, you pluck up the longest of the bunch with the tips of your darkened fingers, holding it before you with a frown. The black strands remain stuck together and you knew from experience they'd now be impossible to disconnect.

The flash of red on the television catches your attention for a moment and your sight blurs as it attempts to refocus. In that brief second, however, the black of your silk melded seamlessly into the darkened cloth of Hawk's soaked jacket and undershirt. In that exact moment, the quiet thought came to your mind.

'My quirk has never been useful to me. But maybe, with enough patience and effort, it can be of use to someone who deserves it more than anyone.'

And so begun the trials of your labor. The physical manifestation of your unspoken devotion.

---

Present Day

--

Hawks wasn't sure what expression had managed to slip past his usually perfect control, but whatever it was must have been fearsome indeed because the young researcher before him was sweating bullets beside his mentor. Said mentor was glancing disappointedly at his assistant and had yet to step in, instead opting to shake his head and cross his arms with quiet exasperation.

"So." Hawks begun in a slow drawl, still smiling but for the way his eyes narrowed. "We're just throwing civilian names into hero politics now are we?" The assistant lowered his head, but remained silent. "Making sure to break all those confidential clauses, huh? I've got to admire your spirit though. Go big or go home is the name of the game in this industry, after all." The winged hero clapped a hand over the other's shoulder, making sure to look him right in the eye as he finished. "How's it feel to be the uncontested winner?"

The assistant took a deep, fortifying breath before finally speaking. "I got carried away. My actions were a direct violation of Proper Hero Agency Conduct and I understand there will be repercussions. I-" The young man pauses again, almost breaking eye contact but the hand tightening on his shoulder quickly made him reconsider. "I let my pride get in the way of proper procedure and it's potentially put a civilian in danger." The assistant grit his teeth and closed his eyes. "I didn't win anything. I fucked up. Knew it the moment their name came out of my mouth."

There was a tense silence before Hawks himself broke it with a loud, exaggerated sigh. "It can't be helped I guess. Chicks gotta break a few eggs before they can grow after all." Everyone pointedly ignore the fact the Hawks was only a few years older than the assistant. Most of all the assistant.

The winged hero threw his head back, letting his entire posture slump and his face crumple into an irritated frown. "They're probably having a heart attack right now."

--

You were panicking. Inwardly, for the time being, but you weren't too far from having a total breakdown. For three hours your phone has been blowing up with an unknown number of texts and calls, half of them demanding your compliance and the other your service, all of them wanting your attention. None of them were making much sense.

The bit about various hero agencies wanting you to work for them was clear, what wasn't though was the why in this situation? The only thing you could think of was the uniform you'd given Hawks (you were well aware you'd probably been on camera the entire time you'd been near Hawk's agency), but such things were dime a dozen in the hero industry and you didn't believe for a moment Endeavor's agency was hurting for costume designers.

The next thing you could think would prompt this response was that there was something about your quirk you were unaware of. Something, apparently, heros deemed valuable enough to look for. What it was you weren't sure, but you knew enough about yourself to know your quirk, while fairly simplistic, was still an unknown to you in many regards.

Still, the sudden influx of unexpected messages was stressful enough. Add that to the fact most of them were from distinguished hero agencies with members that could literally demolish mountains and you were feeling more than a little pressured. Even a little frightened by some of the more demanding messages you'd managed to glimpse before retreating to the other side of the workshop.

You could barely move your furniture across the room most days, what could you do if the likes of Best Jeanist or Gang Orca decided to pay you an unexpected visit?

Okay, that was the panic talking. Not only was that scenario completely illogical, the jab at Gang Orca for having a stereotypical villian aesthetic was uncalled for. Time to recenter yourself and get some much needed fresh air into your lungs before you start accusing All Might of fraud or some such nonsense.

It takes a few minutes to get the muscles in your back to loosen and your mind to stop spitting out half-coherent worst case scenarios, but you manage with a few intense rounds of breathing exercises. By the end of the ordeal you're exhausted, even a little sore from the lack of air before hand. You're functioning again though, and that's what matters.

Now in better control of your thoughts the most obvious solution to your current predicament comes to you with little prompting. You don't even hesitate. There is not a single doubt in your mind as to what you must do.

This is your chance to finally pay back the man you owe your life too. This may very well be the only chance you'll ever get and you've learned that life is far too short to squander the moments that matter.

Your slip on your coat and gloves, making a few last minute adjustments around the shop before stepping out the door and locking up behind you. With your purse on your shoulder and your eyes lit with hopeful determination you walk out into the world with renewed purpose.

You leave the phone.

Nothing they have to offer matters. It never has and you doubt it ever will. They could offer you jewels and they'd collect dust, the world and it'd keep on spinning. They could grant you eternal life and you'd have given it up in a heartbeat for this one chance.

He's the only one that matters. The only one whose attention means something.

He is your priority. He is your only priority.

[grifters-roadie]

so martin and jon both perceived it being potentially Very Telling that martin was safe in the Web’s domain, right? both of them have been very conscious of the likelihood that martin has been marked by the Web?

and martin - racked with paranoia and anxiety that his thoughts and motivation are not his own, but are influenced - makes the decision to not find out and know for sure... because getting confirmation that he is being manipulated would only undo him? like, this is him in “I’d rather not know” denial?

if it is true, i don’t wanna know bc that’ll be terrible and i’ll never trust myself again and feel like all of my life was a lie plus itll undermine this relationship which is the only thing we have

if it isn’t true, i don’t wanna know bc in feeding my paranoia by checking, i will always wanna check and never trust myself plus the power imbalance in handing over my mind to jon

kinda cool that martin isn’t ruled by Beholding’s desire to Know, but im really stuck mulling over his reasoning for not having Jon confirm once and for all whether or not the Web is pulling his strings. feels a little like a stab of strength, of defiance to not check, and i wanna better understand how to frame it that way, but it also feels like sticking his head in the sand and just delaying some awful knowledge.

i guess him not letting jon read his mind is a very very valuable way of maintaining anything resembling equal footing with jon. it’s not right on a typical relationship level, to have to Full Disclosure everything to your partner, and it wouldn’t be right in this universe for jon to lowkey feed through access to martin’s mind. even though martin is still just a human and jon has transformed into something more/less than human, the mutual respect and the boundaries gotta stay.

[horselesbian]

Round One: Hiyasu Shimokizu vs. Senshi Yasashii

@taiyuu-high-oct

it’s later than i wanted but it’s done and i think i like it we’ll see in like three days i guess

They’d been sent off to change into their gym uniforms with little other instruction, but even glancing at the shorts told Shimokizu that she couldn’t wear them. She tugged at her sleeve, and put them back. 

For whatever they were going to do, her uniform pants would have to suffice. 

Tugging at her sleeves again, she ventured out of the locker rooms, trying to watch everything at once and avoid being spotted by her teacher. 

Aurora-sensei seemed to be nice, but she was breaking the rules. There was no changing that. She would be in trouble. 

“Hiyasu! Why are you wearing your uniform pants? They’re going to get dirty, you know.” 

Shimokizu yelped as Aurora noticed her almost immediately, and tried to duck behind Yacchan, except they weren’t nearby, so she couldn’t. She had to face whatever punishment Aurora had head on. “U-um… I can’t… I’ll be too cold if I… um, with shorts. Sorry…” 

“Oh, alright. I’ll see what I can do about getting you some gym pants for your uniform. Why didn’t you say something sooner?” 

“I didn’t… I didn’t think, I’m sorry, sensei…” 

“No need to be sorry! We’ll take care of it, okay kiddo?” 

Shimokizu nodded. “Thank you, sensei.” 

Aurora smiled broadly at her, then went over to stand next to Wolfsboon. 

She tugged her sleeve, confused but grateful at the lack of punishment. “Stupid, stupid… breaking the rules on the first day…” she mumbled, wishing she could just curl up and disappear. 

“We’ll be going in the order you see here!” Aurora said cheerfully as she explained their upcoming sparring sessions. She indicated a board that had a list of thirteen pairs of 1-A and 1-B students. 

She was ninth, against Yasashii Senshi. Yameru was seventh, against Fuji Hotaru. 

Two fights in, however, she was getting nervous. “Everyone is so good… I’m nowhere near their level…” 

“You need to have more faith in yourself, Mocchan.” 

She jumped at the sudden voice, but relaxed at its familiarity. “Y-yacchan…” 

“Do your best and you’ll be fine.” 

She nodded, grabbing Yameru’s hand. “Okay.” 

After that, she watched each fight with rapt attention, gathering every small bit of information she could from each fight, about her classmates’ fighting styles, quirks, and even touches of their personalities. 

She didn’t know a thing about her opponent, aside from their name. She didn’t even know which of the students was Yasashii Senshi, though the options narrowed slowly as 1-B students were ruled out by process of elimination. A spectrum of colors filled out the space as she learned more about each person, some colors drew her in, others grated at her. 

She could almost get excited about pinpointing each of her classmates’ exact shades, what colors went well with theirs. 

“Mocchan, it’s my turn,” Yameru said quietly, and Shimokizu quickly let them go, embarrassed. 

“G-good luck Yacchan!” she said, louder than she meant to, later than she wanted to. She knew she was blushing, and buried her face behind handfuls of her hair. “S-sorry…” 

No matter how many times she watched Yameru fight, she was always enraptured. The way she could sometimes watch a move in so much more detail and sometimes she could barely see what was happening… there wasn’t anything else she could watch that could possibly compare. 

There were only six students remaining that could still be her opponent. The five others she’d seen in her class. As Yameru fought, Shimokizu nervously looked over the students from 1-B. She was slowly associating names to faces, but she was sure she’d forget at least half of them by the next day. 

Yameru was exhausted when they stepped back to stand next to Shimokizu. She tilted her head just enough to tap into their arm, to show her support without being a distraction to anyone else, and they patted her head. 

“Alright! You’re up, Hiyasu Shimokizu!” Aurora called, as Wolfsboon called for her opponent. “Good luck!” 

“Good luck, Mocchan,” Yameru said, quieter than she had been. 

She was wringing her hands as she walked to the ring. There, she faced her opponent, Senshi Yasashii. 

Still, she bowed. “T-to a good fight, S-senshi-san.” 

They bowed back, quiet, though there was something that might be disappointment in their eyes. 

She shifted her feet, shuffling a bit in the sand. She glanced Senshi over, gathering what she could before the fight started and figuring how low the temperature could go safely, given the factors at play. It wouldn’t be long, and as long as she limited the range… no, it would distract her too much. 

While she was thinking, Senshi took the opening and made the first move. They swung towards her with their staff, and Shimokizu took that as an invitation to start the fight. She slid under the swiping attack, sliding her stance wider and ducking down. The force ruffled her hair, carefully pulled tight into a ponytail, some strands catching and being tugged along with the weapon. She held carefully to her quirk so she didn’t go too low or too sudden and hurt anyone. Dropping would hurt everyone, and it wouldn’t be a fair fight. 

“I won’t be losing this fight.” 

Shimokizu blinked, catching a follow-up blow. “Wh- does i-it matter th-that much?” She pushed the staff away with all her strength, then rushed in close. 

“Are you serious?” They caught her jab, but the following kick connected, separating them as Senshi leapt away from the strike. “Of course it matters. I can’t be… weak.” 

Shimokizu scrunched her nose in confusion, but followed Senshi to keep herself close enough that their hand to hand would continue. “I-it’s j-just a… j-just pra-practice…” She saw that the chill was getting to Senshi; they retracted their staff and shifted away from her again, though not without attempting a quick punch that she easily dodged. “J-just a de-dem-demons...” She huffed in frustration, the chill closing words from her again. Stupid, stupid… words shouldn’t stick in her throat just because of her own stupid quirk…

They were about evenly matched at hand to hand, which meant keeping close was to her advantage. Shimokizu winced as her opponent struck her sharply in her right side, then responded by kicking at Senshi’s shin. “Just practice…? Is th-this a joke to you?” She ducked under a particularly harsh and fast blow and surged upward, only to be pushed back by a quick shove before she could make any hit, skidding slightly and almost wavering in her footing. She regained her balance quickly, the lack of traction of her boots being compensated for with a small twist of her ankle. 

She frowned, slipping the temperature downward a bit faster. The fight was dragging on too long and she was getting close to becoming too cold to stay focused. “I-I t-take ever-every fight s-s-seriously. I-it wou… would b-be r-rude n-not to.” 

Likely noticing the increase of her quirk usage, Senshi rushed her. She didn’t catch the nature of the feint until it was too late, and jumped back, wincing in pain from the solid punch to the stomach she’d received. 

In the moments she was recovering her focus and barings, Senshi had grabbed their bag, and flung the first thing they’d grabbed from it at her. 

Pencils scattered across the field at her feet, and she nearly missed adjusting her footing so that she didn’t step on them. Suddenly distinctly more conscious of her ill-suited, though warm, footwear, she kicked the pencils out of her way, then froze when she shifted her focus away from the ground and  noticed the water bottle in her opponent’s hands. 

Then she cursed herself for freezing, because there was no reason to suspect that she had any adversion to water except from her reaction, so stupid, SO STUPID you can’t make mistakes like this and she skittered back, trying to avoid the splash of water as best she could. 

She didn’t succeed in that endeavor. The water made her sweater itchy against her skin, weighed her hair down differently than it was before, and, worst of all, worsened her chill. She gasped from the shock and lost her grip of control on her quirk, the temperature dropping suddenly further down. She allowed herself to ignore it, even though she swore she heard someone gasp and something snap, instead watching for Senshi’s following move. 

It was a good thing she did, since they had been just about to shove her the last few feet out of bounds with their staff. She pulled herself to the side, slipping a bit on the balls of her feet and just barely dodging the weapon’s path. 

Before they could retract the staff, Shimokizu grabbed it, then dug her heels into the ground, praying that her footing would hold. “S-sorry,” she said, then twisted, forcing her grip to hold through shaking hands and quivering arms, and somehow, some way, used the staff to swing Senshi out of bounds. 

The whistle blew, but Shimokizu had already stepped out after Senshi, extending her hand. “Y-you… you’re a g-good f-fighter.”  Stupid, stupid… stutter! Just say the words, you know how to say them, it’s not this hard! 

Senshi stared at her. She tried to smile kindly, but it no doubt fell short. Wavering and uncertain, like always, be better, you idiot! 

They took her hand, and shook it. “Tha-thank you.” 

“I-I a-almost th-thou-ought y-you h-had m-me! I-I-I wa-was s-sure y-you g-got me w-with th-the w-water… Y-you w-were at th-the a-adv…adva…” She wrapped her arms around herself. “S-sorry…” 

“H-how cold… are you?” 

“A-ah, I’ll…” She sneezed. ‘’M f-fine.” 

“Hiyasu, you’ll get sick if you keep that soaked sweater on. Go ahead and change back into your regular uniform.” Aurora smiled at her, warm, kind, and wide. 

“A-ah, th-thank y-y… th-thank yo-ou s-sen-sensei!” Shimokizu bowed quickly, then hurried off. 

“If she can’t ask for what she needs, she can’t succeed as a hero.” 

“Shush, Kuzu. Give her time.”

[minstrivia]

; sangria | m.

— a/n: this is the first fic i released on this website. so like spare me.

— pairing: min yoongi x reader

— genre: smut, pwp, jealous!yoongi

— word count: 3k+

— warnings: dirty talk, creampie, exhibitionism (basically fucking on a beach), pet names, unprotected sex 

— summary: a day at the beach has yoongi hornier than he’d like to admit.

Admittedly, Yoongi had bought the skimpy bikini set for Y/N to use in closed facilities, like their own pool, or their bedroom. Not in actual public where wandering eyes meet her figure continuously. He doesn't even know why he let her leave the house, he should have stood his ground and demanded she changed. But she has a way of talking, like promising to suck him off when they get back home. Yeah, the argument was pretty much over after that. But it didn't mean he was fine with it. He doesn't even know what possessed him to buy it. When he'd seen it the shops he knew it would look good on her, he'd imagined the way it would wrap around her curves deliciously, but even his imagination can't beat or compare to reality in the slightest. 

She looks like pure, hot, sex. And he can't keep his eyes off. In fact, he hasn't. He's been observing her heatedly as she talks with a smile on her face to the bartender. He doesn't miss the way the boys' eyes linger below her face from time to time, and Yoongi knows exactly what he's thinking because he's thinking it too. Yet, she's oblivious to the whole ordeal. Her eyes crinkle as she laughs at something he's said and Yoongi has half the mind to stomp over there and drag her away.

But before he's even pushed himself off the ground she's strolling back towards him, two glasses in hand and his anger simmers momentarily as he admires his fiancée. 

Yoongi’s always admiring her. The way her engagement ring glints in the sunlight to remind him, they're forever. The way her legs go on for miles and if he squints hard enough, he can almost make out the purple bruise on her inner thigh. And the way she fits him, so snug and right on his body, like she was made just for him.

“What were you talking about?” He asks, subtly jerking his head in the direction of the bartender that's still sneaking glances at her.

Y/N takes a seat between his outstretched legs, crossing her own Indian style. Her brows furrow and she glances up at him whilst trying to steady the glasses on the book she brought.

“Jason?”

He frowns glaring at her accusingly. Yoongi knows Y/N, she's a flirt, plain and true, entirely out of habit though. Most times she doesn't even mean it or realises she's doing it. But she'll do it, and it always succeeds to piss him off. 

“First name terms already?”

Y/N shrugs not really understanding the bitter tone in his voice. She hasn't done anything yet so she won't let him spoil her day like he'd tried to this morning. “He asked if he could get my number—”

Yoongi raises an eyebrow. How was she so nonchalant about this? “Oh—he did, did he.”

“Yeah—” She says, a teasing smile accompanying. He's definitely jealous. “—had to tell him I didn't think my fiancé would be too understanding.”

Yoongi grins planting a kiss on her lips that leaves her breathless. That's his girl.

Y/N rolls her eyes. “Anyway, he gave me free sangrias and told me to tell you that you are a very lucky guy.”

He is lucky. Very lucky indeed. He doesn't know where or what he'd be doing if she hadn't given him another chance. All he knows is, he'll never stop loving her. And well, that wouldn't have been good for him without her. 

“Hm, I am aren't I?” He encloses his arms around her waist pulling her set against his chest. “Justin's a very smart guy.”

Y/N slaps his arm holding back her smile. “Jason,” She corrects knowing full well he hadn't forgotten but instead insisted on acting like a jealous bastard. 

He doesn't care. He shifts her hair to one side and brushes his lips over her shoulders. She smells enticing. A concoction of apples, almonds and him. He can definitely smell himself on her. 

“Have I told you how beautiful you look today?” He asks, not really expecting an answer. 

She giggles. He always makes her feel like a giddy high school girl again. “Really, you think so?” She doesn't.

He hums.

She leans back into him and her eyes flutter close. The sound of waves rippling, laughs and chatter fill her ears and her lips stretch up.

“You know what I just realised?” She pops an eye open to check if he's listening. He is. “I haven't been to the beach in like—” She holds up her freshly painted white nails. “—2 years.”

Yoongi grimaces. It's not like she didn't want to go to, well to some extent she didn't, she's not the biggest fan of the place. Y/N hates the way the sand sticks to her body, amongst other things. But mostly, she just hasn't felt as body confident as she used to since she had Hye. 

“It's been that long?”

“Yeah—” She chuckles nervously feeling as self-conscious as ever. These girls on the beach are young, skinny and single. She wouldn't be surprised if Yoongi found someone else more up to speed to go with. “I'm so old compared to all the girls here.”

“I hardly believe 23 is old. If you’re old then 25 must be ancient.”

She laughs. “Yoongi, you’re a grandpa you don’t count.”

He squeezes her tightly with a scowl.

But the point still stands, ever since she gave birth to Hye, her body changed. For one, her breasts are bigger than they used to be which she guesses is positive because Yoongi claims he likes it a lot. 

However, the stretch marks, no matter what Yoongi says, she doesn't like. Sure, they're faint because she'd been avidly using Aloe Vera on them like Google had told her too. But they're still there if you look properly. And she hates it.

Yoongi strokes her stomach, thumb painting his name in ghost ink. He can practically hear her think and it isn't hard to discern what she's thinking. Sure, the girls are pretty but they're also bland. They're not his Y/N.

So, he decides it's the best time to tell her what's been running in his mind for far too long.

“You know, I would really like to fuck you right now.”

Y/N releases a slow breath. She's expected this from him, ever since he almost cancelled the day trip when he saw what she was wearing. She's been waiting for him to speak his intentions, but she hasn't come here for this.

“No way.” She sits up and turns to face him with the sternest face she can muster. Yoongi thinks she looks adorable. 

“Can you see how pale I am? I need to tan.”

He splays his hand on her thigh and grabs firmly. 

“Well, I don't think you need to.” He murmurs, tracing the magenta bruise he'd left on her the other night and she shivers visibly. He catches her earlobe between his teeth. “Plus, I like the way my marks show up on your skin.”

Y/N shakes her head, shuffling off of his lap swiftly and turning on the towel to lay on her stomach before he can manipulate her with his words like he's done many times before. 

“Yeah...well, I want to tan.” 

She releases the clasp of her bikini bra and he groans at the way her breasts spill out invitingly. The bra itself is only held by a flimsy knot around her neck. If he just tugs it with his finger it'd be off. Which isn't putting him at any ease.

“You can tan later.”

In Yoongi’s head, if she really wants him not to touch her, then she's not presenting her case very well. And having her rounded ass in his face isn't helping his growing hard-on either. Mainly because he remembers the way he pounded into her from behind last night as she ground against him, crying for more. 

He rearranges his shorts awkwardly. He needs to fuck her. And he's going to.

He rests on his side facing her. 

“Baby, look,” He starts, trailing a finger languidly down her spine. “You can sit on my lap. I could just pull your bikini bottoms to the side—” 

Her breath hitches and he smirks, he's almost got her. “—and no one will notice.”

It does sound tempting. In fact, if he had caught her at another time, she would already be on his lap. But now, she really does just want a day to relax and tan without having sex. So, Y/N ignores him.

“What d'you think Hye’s doing with your parents?”

Yoongi grumbles and lies back on the towel. Is she being serious? 

“I don't really want to think about our sons' whereabouts when I have a very fucking painful boner.”

Y/N glances at his shorts. He's shifting around uncomfortably and it does look painful. She almost feels bad. She huffs, her resolve weakening by the minute as she thinks about having him buried to the hilt inside her as he fucks her brains out.

“I am not about to have sex with you on the beach.”

“But baby, you look so fucking good,” He whispers in her ear, kissing the skin behind. “And you know how much I love being inside of you.”

Y/N knows, she loves him inside her too. He's so big and his cock is so perfect. She nibbles at her lip, biting back a moan. Why does he always have the right words to get her worked up. 

All she wants is one day when they're not going at it like rabbits. Is that too much to ask for?

Apparently, to Yoongi, it is.

He sits up with a scoff picking her up easily and settling her on his lap again, back pressed against his chest. 

“Y/N... if I want to fuck you. I will.”

She sighs. He's so stubborn, he won't give up for anything. She grabs the towel she'd been lying on and covers her lap with it. 

“Fine.”

Yoongi’s face is already buried in her neck when he smiles and squeezes her waist. “Thank you, princess,” He mutters against her, sucking and biting harshly at the creamy surface. “I'll fuck you so good.”

After he's done with her, he's gonna send her back to the bar, marked up and sweaty, so that the boy can see who she belongs to. 

She's his and will always be.

Y/N rests her head back on his shoulder with a muted moan, allowing him ease of access as her eyes flits around the area. Apart from the few people at the bar hut and the people playing around in the water, she'd say they were safe. At least, as safe as they could be on a beach anyway.

Yoongi isn't even taking precautions like Y/N, he's visibly excited that he's about to fuck her on a beach. He tugs his shorts down quickly.

His cock rubs against her covered pussy as she grinds down against him impulsively. “You need to be faster than this Yoongs,” She whines.

“I'm coming—” He shifts the towel around their body in place, knowing it'll probably make Y/N feel more sheltered. “I'm coming, hold on baby girl.”

He draws her panties to the side and his cock twitches as he strokes himself against her slit. He lets out a shaky breath, her juices coat his tip almost immediately and he wants to eat her so bad. But he can't. Not here.

“Shit my baby girls so wet for me, isn't she?”

“Christ.” Her eyes roll back as she gasps. She's incredibly needy now. She has to force herself not to move without his command. She knows her Yoongi. And she knows as riled as he is, he'll leave her horny if she disobeys him. “Just fuck me... please.”

God. She's so pretty and good to him, particularly so when she's begging for him. He loves it when she begs, makes him feel in control. 

“Look at you.” He sniggers. “Weren't you just so adamant on me not being inside you.”

She denies it.

“You sure baby?”

Y/N sucks in a sharp breath as he sinks her down on his cock slowly until all of him is buried inside her warmth. And her jaw slackens, a whine escaping her mouth. He always fills her so goddamn well. 

She can't control the noises that leave her lips, and as sweet as he finds them he's gonna need her to stop. Even though he doesn't want her to. He wants to hear every whimper she makes.

“Try to keep quiet baby girl. We don't want to get caught,” Yoongi urges breathily and cups a breast from underneath her bra in his large hand. “Now, I'm gonna need you to ride me yeah...”

Y/N nods fervently, hurriedly digging her fingers into his thigh painfully and he bites into the skin under her jaw with the same intensity. 

Both are numb to the feeling, revelling in the steady rhythm her hips make as she lifts herself up and sits back down, burying herself deep on his cock each time. Her breast bounces in his hands and he rolls her nipple between his fingers.

They're both short of breath, panting and groaning like dogs in heat. The sun beats down on them in sweltering heat waves and their bodies are slick with sweat. 

They'd never fucked so publicly before and the thought of someone watching them arouses her to no end and Y/N can't take it anymore.

He feels so good filling her completely like his cock was made just for her cunt. Her stomach tightens, she wants him to pound into her so bad.

“Sh-Shit Yoongi, I need you to—” Her knees buckle as she rocks desperately against him. “I can't.”

Yoongi grabs at her waist. “You've been getting so greedy recently. Don't you dare fucking even think about stopping,” He growls in her ear. He plants a hand into the sand around them, steadying himself as he begins to thrust up into her.

He's driving into her hungrily, forceful and keen strokes set out to impale her swollen pussy. His name leaves her lips like a memorised mantra, the lewd slaps of her body against his entirely too loud for the beach but he loves it all. 

“Fuck, my girls always so good at taking my cock, isn't she?”

“Yes—” She exhales shakily. “I love taking your cock so much.”

“God, you’re such a fucking cock whore.”

Her hair scatters across her face as she shakes her head. “Yes— Yes, I love your cock. I love it when you come inside me—”

Yoongi grins against her jaw. “Yeah? You like it when I fill you?”

Y/N struggles for breath, choppy, short and strangled puffs each time he pushes. “Uh huh—I love it when you watch your cum seep out of me as well. Makes me feel like a good girl for you.”

“Jesus Christ, you're so fucking filthy, who's letting you keep talking like that?” 

Y/N doesn't have to say it. They both know that it's him. Yoongi’s letting her speak like that. And she's so overthrown in the bliss that the words just flow out naturally.

“It's because you fuck me so so so good.”

“I do, don't I?” He grunts, huffing and puffing to catch his breath. “It's 'cause my girl knows how to take her cock so well.”

She's hysterically trying to keep her grip on his thighs but he's treating her like a rag doll, and she can't wait to see the bruises his hands make on her waist.

“Yes— fuck, yes!”

“So, will you be a good girl and keep it all in you then?” Fuck, she's clenching so hard on him, and her walls are so tight he can barely move. He grits out with clenched teeth. 

“I want to see you talk to that boy again with ruined panties a—and my cum running down your thighs. Can you do that for me, baby?”

Y/N’s agreeing before he can even finish. “I'll do anything you want. I just— I just want to feel your cum stuffing me full.” 

Her head is dizzy with pleasure as his thrusts stay unrelenting. There's no empathy in them and fire pools low in her abdomen. And he's shaking.

“Fucking hell princess.”

Yoongi can't believe how lucky he is to have such a naughty girl like her, he will reward her though. He knows her body like the back of his hand. 

He lifts her off of him much to her complaint and turns her around, so they're face to face, he rests his forehead against hers giving Y/N ample time to breathe before slamming her body down towards him.

“Oh god, right— right there.”

Yoongi smirks, pounding into her again and again. Aggravating slow and controlled strokes that has her covering her silenced shrieks with a shaky hand. 

“Here?” He mocks.

“Yoongi!” She throws her head back and he relishes in how beautiful she looks for him. Her face is flushed, strands of brown hair stuck onto it and her lips are bright and swollen by the way she's been biting at them with her teeth.

He shushes her. “Don't worry baby, I've got you.” He's always got her. 

Y/N’s overcome with all emotions at once, her eyes sting with unshed tears. It's the pure incredibility of how well he's fucking her on a public beach and she knows she can't go back from this. Nor can he, he's gonna tick this off his bucket list and boast to the boys.

“God—I love you so fucking much Yoongi.”

He kisses her throat, soft and loving despite his thrusts. “I love you too—so much.” He means it. He's always meant it. 

“Fuck, I'm gonna—”

Y/N hooks her arms around his neck tightly, or else she's sure she's gonna flop back. Her back arches as she pushes her breasts flat onto his chest and he captures her lips in a bruising kiss. It's messy and sensual, tongues massaging together, and it just manages to mute out her clamorous moans. 

His pace speeds up, frantic and careless strokes into her as he chases his release. “I want you to cum around my cock princess,” Yoongi says heatedly. “Want to feel it so bad.”

And Y/N can't hold back anymore, the blue skies fade to black as she writhes against him, dissolving into blinding pleasure. Her walls tighten around him, the sensitivity of his vigorous strokes causing her to jerk and jolt.

He groans holding her firmly, his muscles contracting and relaxing when he goes still. His seed splatters against her walls, pump after pump of warm cum filling her so right. Like he always does. And they know it's messy, it always is.

“Fuck, my angel did so well—” Yoongi leaves sweet kisses on her jaw. Y/N hums, looking completely ruined and so rightfully his. Just like he's so rightfully hers.

Her body is flimsy as Yoongi lifts her up gently, pulling himself out of her. He fixes her panties before their juices trickle out of her slit too quickly. 

“Now try to hold my cum in you, and go talk to that bartender boy again.”

Y/N laughs. “Christ— you love this don't you.”

Yoongi curses as she does up her bra and stands to her feet. His hands and mouth have left prominent marks on her skin and he can already see his release beginning to run down her thighs.

 She sighs, “At least let me wear a shirt.”

all rights reserved ©️ minstrivia

[365daysofsasuhina]

[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day One Hundred Sixty-One: Swimming ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata ] [ SasuHina, drowning ] [ Verse: Of Monsters and Men ] [ AO3 Link ]

The memory has always been foggy.

Even now, ten years after that fateful day, Sasuke recalls very little of what happened. One minute he had been swimming in the shallow edge of the ocean with his brother, enthused and excited to finally have a family vacation. His parents were always so busy, but at last, they had a few days to just...be together. Have some fun. Even Fugaku had been smiling.

And then...he went under.

Water. Flashes of blue and white, short gasps of air, flailing limbs, not knowing what way was up or down. It seemed to go on forever, struggling to breathe just enough to stay alive before being pulled back down.

It was like the current had him by the ankles, determined to pull him to a watery grave.

...but then...it stopped. He surfaced. Swam a few desperate, amateur strokes in his youth until his feet touched a sandy floor.

Where…?

He was in a strange formation of stone. Almost like an egg from the inside, with a hole at the top, bright blue with sky. Around one edge was a belt of the fine earthen granules, golden and soft. A few plants grew along the edges. And there, to the other side, was a dipping abyss.

It looked like it went...under the stone? A tunnel out, maybe?

But he’d been far too frightened to try to swim back under - to make his way back out to his family. Instead, he cried for help. Cried until his voice went hoarse. And then finally, blessedly, someone looked in through the top at him. Lowered a rope with a slat of wood to sit on, like his swing back home. Clinging to it and shivering, Sasuke had been pulled up through the gap and back into the panicked arms of his family.

Itachi blamed himself. Said he’d let Sasuke wander too far. The younger brother had tried to explain that pulling feeling, but...no one would listen. Told him it was a current, not anything conscious or seeking.

...but still, the conviction remained: something had pulled him down there. And then...something had saved him. Put him safely into the strange cove beyond the ocean’s reach.

One would think such an experience would drive a primal fear into him...but instead, he did the opposite. A drive to conquer the water rose in him. And so, Sasuke joined his junior swim team in school. And progressed with it through middle school, and into his final four years of primary education. Now no longer a high schooler, he steps into his final summer before college begins.

And he’s back at the beach.

In his family’s eyes, it’s no longer a welcoming place. He has to wait until his agemates choose it as their last class-wide getaway before he can return. It takes many assurances that he’s going to be fine, he’s no longer a child, before his parents agree to let him go.

It’s...changed since he was a boy.

There’s now a fancy hotel, the beaches far more crowded and trafficked than before. Where they once vacationed with little interruption, there’s hardly a place to sit in the sand.

But in truth, the beach isn’t exactly what Sasuke’s looking for.

He wants to find the cove.

It would be easy enough to climb to the top, but...getting down would be dangerous. No...if he wants in, he’ll have to swim back through the gap under the stone.

Why?

...he has to know. What dragged him down? Was he really just imagining things? Or is there something lurking in these waters?

Managing to ditch his classmates, he makes his way down the beach to the strange cove. From here, it just looks like a rock outcropping. But in truth, it’s perfectly hollow: like a bowl resting on its edge. Wading out to his knees, Sasuke has only a pair of goggles to let him see through the murky water.

From here, he can’t begin to see what he’s looking for. He’ll have to search, first.

Taking a deep breath, he goes a ways further before leaving his feet and swimming. Smooth, clean strokes take him easily out into deeper waters, sticking close to the outcropping before starting to dive in search of the opening.

After fifteen minutes of diving with no luck, he surfaces and treads water, thinking. He can’t really remember what side of the cove he came up through...once he was taken out, his father had scooped him up and taken him back to the car, and his orientation had been lost. He could be searching on the wrong side, but...this was where he was first pulled under.

...maybe there’s no way back unless he’s taken.

It’s risky, but...maybe worth a try.

Doing his best to relax, Sasuke takes several preparatory breaths...before letting himself sink beneath the waves.

For a long moment, there’s a calm weightlessness as he just...floats between the ocean floor and the surface.

But then an ankle tugs, and he can’t help a partial exhale of surprise - precious air lost as he watches the light of the sky above him quickly darken.

Struggling to look down and regain his mobility, he can’t quite see if something really has him...or if it’s just an undertow. Seaweed soon brushes past him, tickling at his skin and obscuring his vision. Slowly his lungs begin to burn as his oxygen depletes.

Then...the pull suddenly stops.

Hovering in a forest of kelp, he slowly strokes with his limbs. This...is unnerving. He can’t see anything, but - there! Something just swam past! It...it’s not a shark, is it…?

Dark eyes flickering, he cautiously starts making his way to the surface, only to jerk as something grabs his wrist! Rather than up, he’s pulled forward, and the water turns pitch black.

Is...is he…?

No...there! Light! A surface! Freed from whatever grasped him, he strokes in desperation to breach, gasping as he hits air. Struggling forward, he eventually finds sand, crawling up before collapsing on his back.

Silence, save for the muffled calls of gulls, and the gentle hiss of the ocean.

“...it’s you again.”

Stilling and feeling his heart stop, Sasuke stares straight up. Who...who said…?

“That was...a very foolish thing to do. I almost lost you.”

Slowly, ever so slowly, Sasuke pulls himself upright, sitting along the sand and looking to the water.

There, leaning on her elbows in the shallows, is a girl. At first glance, there’s nothing abnormal, but...her legs aren’t legs. It’s...it’s a tail. Like a dolphin’s. And her eyes are a strange, solid plane of white. No pupils. Webbed skin clings between her fingers, the shells of her ears long and frilled, like fins.

It had been only a dream. A figment of his imagination. Something seen so briefly, even a child barely dared to believe it, dashed quickly by the stern words of adults.

There’s no such thing as mermaids.

But he remembers, now. She’d pulled him in. Disappeared in a flash...but he saw her on  his way up, clinging to that rope and board.

...she saved him.

And now she’s done it twice.

Her head tilts, wet curtain of amethyst hair slithering over her back. “...why did you come back?”

“I...I had to know.”

“...know?”

“That you were real. That I wasn’t crazy…!”

“They won’t believe you.”

“I don’t care! It’s not about them...it’s about me.” Struggling to stand, he starts to pace. “I told them...I told them something pulled me! Saved me! But no one believed...so neither did I. But now...now I know.”

Staring at him, the mermaid then asks, “...now what will you do?”

“...I dunno. Go back, I guess.”

“You won’t try to tell anyone?”

“No. You’re right - no one would believe me. I just had to prove it to myself.” Taking his turn to look at her, he adds, “...thank you for saving me. Twice.”

Her lips lift in a smile. “...you’re welcome. You like my little hideaway…?”

Gaze moving around the strange formation, he nods. “Never seen anything else like it. Or like you.”

“...Hinata.”

“What?”

“My name. It’s Hinata.”

He brightens. “Sasuke. Nice to...officially meet you, Hinata.”

“Likewise.” Again her head tilts. “...will you ever come back again?”

“I dunno...maybe.”

“I would...like that.”

“Yeah? ...me too.”

“But...you are not alone now, are you? They will come looking.”

“...yeah, probably.”

“I should take you back.”

But he just got here, just met her…! Just finally proved to himself he’s not insane! “...all right.”

“Keep hold of my tail - I’ll show you the way.”

Obliging, Sasuke watches as she carefully makes her way out, quickly heading for the surface. As he’d suspected, they’re far farther from shore than he’d initially thought.

“See this stone, here? It marks the way. For when you return. Stay close to the side, the current won’t find you.”

“Is that really what dragged me down?”

...she doesn’t reply.

Treading water, he hesitates. “...well...guess this is goodbye for now.” This all feels so surreal, just...talking to her. Like she’s any other person.

“Yes...for now. Take care, Sasuke. The ocean gives and takes as she pleases. Don’t tempt her again.”

“...I’ll try not to.” Taking her advice, he makes his way around toward shore. It’s gotten late, the crowds thinning a bit.

“Hey, there he is!”

“Sasuke! Where you been?”

Making his way up the beach, the Uchiha pauses. “Just...doing a little diving.”

“C’mon man, we’re going out for dinner! Fresh seafood!”

“...be right there.”

                                                             .oOo.

     Not much to say about this one besides...mermaids! Mermaid Hinata, specifically. And almost-drowned Sasuke, lol      Not as fleshed out as I'd like, but it's late and I'm tired, as usual - someday I'll do these when not exhausted =w=;;;      Anyway, my eyeballs are screaming - time for bed! Thanks for reading~

[zardoru]

Clans of the desert

Part 3, Chapter 6

"Goooooooooooooooooood morning!" A piercing shout resonated across the walls of the cave as everyone, with the exception of Mud, begrudgingly lifted their heads to see Tija. Fri was glad Tija was back in spite of the rude awakening.

"Awfully rude," complained Astra. "You could've waited outside."

"Wow, you're the one to talk," said Joy.

"The difference is that we don't have to hunt this morning," said Astra.

"Tija," said Tuga, putting both claws against her forehead. "I was just dreaming of you. That, or your shouts just pierced right into my dreams."

"I'm sorry, I just wanted to surprise you," she said.

"Well, Queen Desertwalker, you did," said Astra, moving the left leg spread to the side below her, lifting her head from her right leg, and sitting as she let out a yawn. "Oh, you're not in the best of moods, are you?"

"No," said Tija, changing her enthusiasm for solemnity. "It wasn't the greatest of trips."

"Well, at least one of us is having a good rest," said Joy, looking over Mud, who was sleeping belly up, front legs on the air, kicking her leg against the air with some drool coming to the side in an uncomfortable posture. "So how did it go?" She continued, "you used to be super excited to go to the desert."

"Well..." said Tija, making short furrows on the ground with her claws, grimacing. "It's complicated."

"Don't talk about anything you don't want to, Tija," said Astra. "These things are never easy to talk about."

"Oh, I cannot... not tell you. Which is to say I must, because..." Tija paused.

"Our impression of you will not change," said Astra. "Go ahead. We're here to support you, no matter what."

*What could have been so bad? *Tija was uneasy around us for the first time since Fri could remember. It must've been bad. At least, for her.

Tija nodded solemnly. "Okay, here goes."

I never told you why I wanted to go to the desert. It's not the first time I had been there. I was raised there, by two loving parents. I had a brother too. When I escaped in a tantrum I thought I'd live on my own for the rest of my life, but I couldn't stop thinking that I had left them. I've spent the last few years thinking of meeting them again. Since we had a few months to gather everyone, I thought I had time. I did, but I also didn't.

If you've never been to the desert, you should know that the dunes are always changing, and it's not hard to forget where you are. Every other grain of sand looks like every other grain of sand at a distance, even if they are all completely unique.

Hah. I thought I would be over them after all this time. I found you all, you became my new family; and we've already achieved so much! But my feelings kept working against me. As much as I proved myself successful on my own, I miss them. And I never will really have the chance to ever tell them that I'm sorry for leaving them...

Because all I found was bones. Bones of animals. Dragons. Even scavengers with their empty water flasks, that most likely never knew where to find any water. It's all mostly silent and quiet, with the occasional dry, dusty wind shifting the sands. No matter how much the dunes reshape themselves, the desert is still a desert.

I think that's why I kept going.

Maybe with the trinket Fri gave to me --- besides this weird scorpion tail --- I'd eventually find them. If the desert stayed the same, and I also couldn't let them go, there was a chance that I could maybe find them again.

The river. If they were anywhere, it'd be on the river.

The oasis. If they were anywhere, it'd be on any oasis.

You saw the number of dragons that lived in the desert; we're easily the smallest tribe of all. It's impressive, even in the arctic lands of the continent you found more dragons than I did. Most of what I found was corpses, picked off by the vultures already so long ago. Every body far from water.

I wonder what made them wander here when they were clearly not as prepared as I was to the heat, or the thirst, having grown here. Though, among you, eating cows, so close to a river, and with so little fighting with other dragons compared to when I saw my family fight for the right to have some water off a band of dragons, I had grown a little soft.

I followed the stirring glow of the piece of amber I got from Astra. Its direction didn't change for a long period of monotonous flight, until I saw some holes in the sand that seemed to go from some far away place, and go all the way in the direction I was heading to. Someone must have traveled from far away in a minuscule period of time, I thought.

I had no hope that I'd find anyone I had cared for, but I wanted to. I followed the trail all the way to the end, to find a dragon carrying one of their clan-mates to their part of the river.

You see, back then, I remember my parents explained that we organized in clans, different groups of dragons that competed for all the different so--- I already explained this! So, these two were very badly hurt. One of them --- the one that was conscious --- was bleeding from one of their missing wings. They had opaque, yellow scales. The other one was missing all of their claws, with darker, mustard scales.

"Who are you?" I asked.

"Flightless and Clawless," explained the one without a wing. They were reluctant, because they clearly would've tried to fight me believing I would've attacked them, but they didn't have the energy. I like to think that I'm still a bit menacing even if I am not the fighter I used to be.

I grimaced at their response, though. "Why those names? Who could've named you something so cruel?"

Flightless snorted at me, and dismissed answering, drinking some water and trying to wash their partner's freshly cut off talons. "Are you going to ask stupid questions, are you going to kill us, or are you going to help us?" they finally responded.

*Oh, what an idiot I am, *I thought. I helped them lift the other dragon from the sand and helped them suspend their friend on the water. Flightless stared at me with a piercing gaze, probably thinking I'd harm them while they're down. I avoided making eye contact and laid their brother in the water to clean up the wounds. "I never expected that I'd ever see help from anyone, much less of a dead clan," they explained.

A dead clan, I thought. That was worrying; I still expected to be able to see my family, as well as the rest of the clan. I didn't know what of me gave it away, so I asked.

"It's the golden coloration of your scales," they explained. "They're a dead giveaway." I never believed that something so trivial could meant something to others. And come to think of it, my own family often rejected other dragons that were willing to give their lives for us if only we allowed them to stick with us. Three moons, we killed some dragons only on that basis.

I wasn't as eager to meet them after that.

"You asked about our names, didn't you?" asked Flightless. "It was that bunch of cowards, the Windraiders, attacking us at night, right at our home."

That name woke up some unpleasant memories. That bunch always played dirty. I heard that they had an artifact they stole from the... As Tuga described, "the white dragons," like you, Fri.

"They stole from my family?" said Fri. "Did you learn anything about them on your journey?"

I did, but not much. We eventually managed to convince one of them --- the one who stole it --- to tell us about them, but all he said is that they were being protective of the only egg they had in years, which I presume is yours. He said he'd threatened it, and with that they let him go without any further discussion. The parents were livid, he said. "Let him take it! If this is the dragonet you were really talking about, these items will be completely redundant! Just please, don't give our child's life for a stupid trinket!"

Anyway, the artifact I brought with me, and it's supposed to let you speak with humans, but I'm not sure how to use it. Maybe you'll be able to figure it out, Fri. Though, with your ability to enchant, I don't think you need it, but it could be good emotional support, nonetheless. Your parents really loved you, didn't they, Fri?

We have a few things in common. Neither of us can tell them we felt the same way after all this time.

... So anyway, the Windraiders.

"What happened to your clan?" I asked.

The look on their face changed to resignation. "We're all that's left of the clan, now. And these snakes, they let us live, only to shame us with our names; they cut my wings, and took his claws," they said, with a slow buildup of rage. "And neither of us can make them pay, as we are. We were just the last two to die, and they wanted to desecrate our clan's memory as much as they could when they realized they had killed almost all of us."

So I guess I remembered my mission, and I figured we'd have to face them at some point anyway, so I offered them, "Hey, just about everyone hates them, and I and some friends are just going to take down humanity, so how about you come with me? I'll have to make them come around at some point or probably get rid of them if they resist, anyway."

"You? On your own?" they laughed. "It's far more likely that it rains than that you could take them down on your own."

"I'd demonstrate," I said, "but I think neither of you are in conditions. Besides, my plan is far simpler than whatever you've got in mind."

"What are you thinking of?"

"Well, uniting all the clans against them, of course!"

And they stared at me with disbelief. I guess with good reason. Haha.

"How are you going to do that? And how could we help like this?" asked Flightless.

"We'll figure out a way," I said, not with anything in mind yet.

Flightless eyed my tail suspiciously, and I had to explain to them your enchantment thing, and showed them the magic artifact. They saw the thing stir around and point someplace else now that I had met them, and I explained how it worked.

"Is that one of the artifacts from the white dragons?"

"Well, yes and no, it's from a different one, a friend."

Fri chuckled.

Flightless asked for my permission to look at it, and I allowed them to play with it for a bit. They were fascinated, almost like a dragonet playing with dying prey: they juggled a bit with it, gave it a nibble, a lick, a smell, and even rubbed it against them. "It is so mundane, yet so magical." They hoped to meet you at some point.

We cleaned up Clawless. Once he woke up, Flightless ran over to help him get up. Clawless complained about how painful it was to stand up at all, and so he sprawled himself on the floor so that the ends of his limbs wouldn't support his full weight. The poor guy wasn't doing too great.

"Can you move?" asked Flightless.

"I'm sorry," he said with an unexpected high pitched voice. "I'm not sure I can walk like this."

Flightless snickered at their mate, and said, "Well, I can walk, and you can fly, so that makes us one whole dragon."

Clawless merrily sighed and bumped snouts with them.

Flightless explained the situation; they also introduced me, noting that I was a friend of the white dragons. Or just you, really. Flightless asked me for the amber piece and showed it to their partner. He gave it a brief, dispassionate examination, not bothering to take it away from Flightless' talons.

"What are we supposed to do?" he said. His voice was heartbreaking, grieving and defeated. I could understand them well. Not being able to fight here is a death sentence, but they may not know how to live anywhere else. Living away from what you're used to can be tough, and even more so when hunting like you always have can prove... challenging.

Flightless tried to be as encouraging as they could, and pointed to me a few times saying that we'd be fine if I had managed to be on my own for this long.

They didn't know I hadn't been on my own at all, but I had to pretend that I was a hero, one that could live on their own and was leading the initiative to end with humans and unite the clans of the desert.

We chatted some more just to know each other a little better, so I told them that I had abandoned my family when I was younger, and that I regretted it some, but they assured me that doing so was wise, as none of my kin ever showed up around them; they firmly believed there was no chance of them being alive.

But you know, that's not the end of that, at all.

We followed the amber piece until we saw smoke during the cold desert night rising from between the dunes, with me walking alongside Flightless, Clawless aloft with the seeking artifact. We climbed the dunes and only peeking our heads in case someone in the basin caught a glimpse of us.

There was a long river that seemed to reach all the way from the east to the west. The opaque, yellow dragons slept underneath these wide, bushy threes with bright greens that seemed white under the dim moonlight, but closer to the bonfire they'd made in the middle of their makeshift camp, had a yellowish reflection. You could see some of the alligators that live on the river sleep right next to some of the dragons, as if they were old friends or even couples.

But then, I saw them --- my siblings --- living alongside this body of dull, sleepy dragons that could've easily been assaulted as they were so obviously overconfident; with numbers that big, they must've relied on being possibly the largest of all the clans around now.

I guess the union of the small clans had already been over before it had really started for me, or I hoped so. Challenging the leadership should've been enough.

That reminds me, I presume we're going to preserve that, right? If my rule is strong, nobody would challenge me, and if it is weak, a better leader will surely rise from the aftermath of the duel. It makes sense, doesn't it?

Anyway, we waited until the next day. I told the other two that we'd try to mix in with the group, though I was eager to try to talk to my brothers and sisters, it'd surely have to wait until I figured who was in charge.

Flightless and Clawless were, in contrast, anything but. They noted it was dragons of this clan that had left them in the state they did; were they to be recognized, it would surely cause trouble. I told them that it'd be the perfect opportunity for me to seize the leadership, as a challenge to protect them is the most honorable way of proposing a duel.

They didn't like the idea very much, but they didn't have many options; they could try to leave for the mainland and adapt to their situation on their own, try to find a clan that will have them, which, generally, don't like giving dragons in their situation a chance even though they absolutely deserve it, or try to live on their own and most likely die. I explained it so to them, and they found themselves in agreement, so as undignified as it seemed, they had found a strange purpose.

We followed this newfound clan that seemed too numerous to notice that we were there at all, and so, they organized themselves in cells day by day, where small groups would perform different tasks throughout the day, and I found myself following my siblings' cell only to know what they were up to. Of course, I didn't let myself known, though my tail barb made me very simple to identify; enough that eventually, I was called "The Scorpion," which is funny to me. Though that happened later.

My siblings weren't doing any good things, of course. They'd learned the ways of the desert, and intimidating other groups and threatening them with the whole clan being thrown at them, bullying, clawing and biting the food out of the smaller clans after they managed to hunt some large lizards --- much like vultures, except those are scavengers, not bullies.

If they deemed it necessary, they killed off those that stood up against them --- which weren't that many. It was enough of a deterrent to say "We're from that large clan by the river, fear us."

So the worst part of it is, I just didn't seem to know them, or care much about them; they weren't the warm caring dragons I lived with, these were as far off from my memories as I could've thought. It was disappointing, but I was ready for it; I already thought they were dead.

Flightless and Clawless caught me staring and tearing up because of them, and quickly put me in my place. I wasn't here to know the fate of my family, because, as I explained to them, the Fire Wing was my family, not this band of hooligans. I was here to give them all a better life, and maybe, if they do change their ways after we manage to ensure our living spaces, and bringing everybody in, I could possibly bring in this new vision we've had together of thriving instead of surviving.

So, we left to stir up some conflict.

"We don't want to stand back and let you do this on your own," said Clawless. "We deserve to fight for our own vengance."

I stared at both of them thinking how the snake they were going to do that. They clearly noticed.

"We're not going to do this on our own," said Flightless. "All we ask is that you let us deal the fatal blow."

Oh, how was I going to let them, they deserved it and I was not in a position to stop them. "Go ahead," I said. "The fight is going to be over in seconds." I waved the barb at the end of my tail back and forth just to hint at what I had in mind.

Well, my pride wasn't going to let me just use it right away. That'd be boring. I hadn't had a fight in years, and I wanted to make sure how much my own two claws could damage this stupid leader that decided to use their strength to subjugate other clans instead of helping them. I knew what I wanted. I knew I wanted to draw it out, make the coward bleed.

The call wasn't so dramatic. I openly called the leader to a challenge after waking everyone up extremely early; I was surprised to see that their leader was an old and feeble dragon. But not just any dragon.

"Tija!" he said, confusing me because I had no idea how he knew my name. "My daughter, you are alive!"

My heart sunk. Suddenly everything made sense; why her siblings were there, though I cannot guess why they didn't tell him earlier, I am most certain they knew I was there, but that's why they didn't attack Flightless and Clawless on sight, or so he explained. I had to stick my arm in my mouth not to scream at him why the hell was he attacking the other clans.

"We thought they had taken you away," he explained to me. "This was our vengeance, to do onto them what they might've done to you a hundred times over."

Well, that was unexpected, to say the least. I always thought they were dead, but of course... this wasn't just any clan. It was where I came from. "It's us! Your mother went on a quest so long ago to find you, but we found her corpse on the dry desert, bleeding out and being eaten by impatient vultures; all because these snakes attacked her."

But none of them deserved it. I ran away. It wasn't their fault. And my mother died because of me, that is to say, I was not having much fun in my journey back home at all. I know for a fact that if I had stayed with them none of it would have happened, but I would've acted the same way had my own child disappeared under my nose.

I asked him why they thought why the other clans might've done whatever he thought they did to me.

"It was the small corpses of the hatched dragonets they tested out in the desert, leaving them to die," he said. "I always thought one of them might've been you, dead in one of their barbaric tests."

I chuckled, because obviously, he tried too hard to protect someone that already was able to hold on their own. It's almost infuriating. I made a promise to Flightless and Clawless, however, and now that was weighing heavily on me. I said the only thing that could be said. "We need justice for the clans you've wronged."

His scales went pale as Flightless and Clawless came to my sides, bloodthirstier than ever. I explained to them that he was my own father, and to wait for a moment. Father trembled as I hesitated until the very last moment, whether I would actually kill him or not, and then I remembered what our objective was.

We are going to kill all of the scavengers who had wronged us.

I don't need to tell you what we did to him next, because I already told you. We killed him; I stabbed him in the head with my tail, and Flightless and Clawless bled him dry for his wrongdoings. He begged me for forgiveness during the last moments of his life. I didn't want to hear it.

He was responsible for the death and agony of countless others, and I could not let that go with impunity.

We invited the rest of the clans into submission, promising a life without violence. Almost none of the clans accepted, but they'd come to us soon enough. We acquired control of the water with ease, which is as non-violent of a method as I could manage.

My siblings protested, of course. It didn't take much to strike them down. It's almost not worth mentioning.

I am not sure if I did the right thing. Not at all.

Tija looked at the ground. "But that...is what I did."

Loud noises interrupted everyone's astonishment at Tija's decision to kill her own father; making the small group, with the exception of Tija, look outside as a flock of dragons with scales with tints of orange and red, large wings, and an exceptional discipline of formation loomed above.

The loud dragon had arrived.