#is my wrist broken? Is it not? Was that silly suspicious bit on the first xray nothing all along?

[ratcandy]

Haha itd be soooo embarrassing if my wrist was just sprained and not broken this whole time haha… like I’d hate that haha omg like how humiliating… I side glance my wrist to see if it’s listening

[stay-midnight]

Royals. II

Hwang Hyunjin x Male Reader

W.C: 5.5K Words (😃)

Triggers: Explicit Smut, Mentions of Marriage, Mentions of Rejections/Stood up.

Things to be noted: Royalty AU, There’s some fluff at the aftercare, some angst too, Slight Seungmin x reader, Slight Jeonglix without context and Binsung with Han being a total flirt.

Kinks/Warnings: Top Hwang Hyunjin, Bottom Reader, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Edging, Degradation, Puppy Petname, There’s some drool-, Consensual, Safewords, Blowjobs (Reader receiving), Marks and Bruises, Slight Possessiveness, Aftercare (This is not a kink, it’s needed) Lubricated Sex, Unprotected Sex / No condoms (This is not promoting unprotected sex, use condoms irl !!), Palming, Slight Master Kink, Hyunjin has a big dick, Mouth Fingering, It’s so messy, Doggy Style and Hickeys (Lots of em)

a/n: Wowow, this is my longest fic yet and it’s a part 2 I— Anyways, I’m sorry for making you guys wait for so long for this~ HSHSHSHS, hopefully it’s good ! If I miss any warnings or triggers please inform me sksksk.

Hyunjin clenched his fist as he stared at the two princes laughing at the distance.

Why? He asks himself at why is he pressed about them, talking. Hyunjin wanted to rip the brown haired man away from you.

His jaw tightened in frustration in this feeling of his — was it jealousy? But he barely knew the guy in the first place, but noticing him at the corner of his eyes in the crowd at his speech makes his heart race.

He doesn’t believe in love in first sight — Heck, Hyunjin barely believes love exist. All those princesses were completely head over heels for him since he was young but never gave them attention as he knew that money or his looks is all they care about. It doesn’t sit right with him.

. . .

Hyunjin did nothing for the past thirty minutes but just stare at the face of the man who he seems attracted too.

He was also a bit salty at the fact that a prince was now giving head pats to you, he didn’t like that one bit. He accidentally let out a growl which did not stay unnoticed by his siblings.

“Jin?” A male voice snapped him out of his darkly clouded mind.

He snapped head towards the speaker, alarmed at the sudden call of his nickname, it was his older brother, the brother suddenly placed his arm on his shoulder, “You okay? You seemed distracted..—”

A laugh emerged from a woman near him,, her eyes twinkling with curiosity — Curious to why his brother, Hyunjin seemed a bit out of his head for a long time earlier.

“Yeji?” the eldest brother asked, turning his head slowly to her.

“What’s funny?” he continued, looking at her with a raised eyebrow, his lips frowning slightly.

“Nothing. Just wondering what’s gotten into Hyunjin...~ He was staring into the distance for a long time.” Yeji spoke, eyeing Hyunjin curiously — a hint of smirk playing at her lips.

Hyunjin froze.

“Uh, I was just watching what’s happening.” Hyunjin smiled as casual as he could, before grabbing the water from the near table to hydrate himself.

Yeji looked at him in question, not buying his response. “Whatever, birthday boy is being his boring self.” she shrugged off before standing up and going somewhere.

The eldest brother was very confused about what’s happening so he just sat back down and yawned.

“Hey! I’m older than you!” Hyunjin shouted before mumbling curses at her sister’s impudence before a bell suddenly rang.

. . .

The host stepped back upon the stage and bowed, “The ball will now begin, masks will be distributed in a little while, as requested by the prince — This will be a masquerade ball. Every one, enjoy your time at the palace !”

The male host smiled in content before leaving to the backstage.

You and Seungmin have been conversing for a while, unaware of the eyes that has been raking you from across the ball room.

. .

A lot of formally dressed occupants came out, holding stacks of differently designed half masks.

One of them suddenly approached you and handed you one. A white half mask, with gold lines and swirls remarkably designed by the maker.

The occupants handing out these masks have their own mask on also.

The giver of your mask had a smirk embedded on his lips before bowing.

You looked at Seungmin weirdly after that certain interaction with the masked guy, “Maybe just a creep?” he asks you in wonder.

You jabbed your elbow at him, “Don’t be silly, this is a castle. There is absolutely no way that someone without decency is here.”

“Hm, you never know Y/N.” he says in a serious tone making you stare at him in confusion before nodding.

. . .

Seungmin got his own mask — a dark blue colored one with sapphire crystals decorating the sides. He smiles at you before reaching for your hand, “Do you want to be my partner, Y/N?” he mumbles while you just nodded abruptly.

“Why me though? There’s many princesses out there?” you questioned suddenly, squeezing his hand pathetically.

“I have a more preference for men than women.” he stops and looks at you for any bad reactions before he continued;

“You seem fine and you’ve got good looks.” Seungmin complimented before taking you to the middle of the ball room where most people with partners are already gathered.

Slow and enchanting music started playing, the sensual melody was enough to calm your nerves and remove all thoughts of questioning Seungmin.

A hand was placed in your waist and in your shoulder, alerting you.... But, when you blink out of your own head, Seungmin was staring right at you with smile.

You placed your hands on his shoulder and waist as well, swaying through the music naturally.

While dancing you caught a glimpse through the crowd of a familiar red-head. He had a red half mask on with ruby crystals creating a spinning design on the eyes. A smirk formed his lips as he looked back at you, nodding twice. It was Jeongin dancing with a blonde haired man, his hair neatly sitting in a mullet. Felix.

You didn’t know if you wanted to curse him for leaving you or thank him for a new friend. You haven’t seen nor talked to Felix yet but maybe you will after this ceremony.

. . .

After dancing with Seungmin for a long while; a trumpet sounded which made you sigh as you look at Seungmin, knowing what it means.

Switch in partners.

“Good luck, Y/N~” he said with his signature cute smile that you’ve seen throughout the day.

You let out another sigh before gasping as someone took hold of your right wrist.

“Would you like to partner up with me?” A voice asked in a sexy voice, loosening the grip on your arm.

Swinging your head to the source of the attractive voice, you find yourself staring at a tall man with black hair — it was fairly long. He was wearing a black half mask adorned with dark flowers at the corners. He seems familiar, curiosity now took over your judgement as you nod courtly.

“May I ask for your name?” you looked at him, tilting your head to the side.

He looked up, thinking before looking back at you again with a smile, “Call me Hyun.” he breathed before taking your hand in his.

He then wrapped his other arm around your waist pulling you close to him. Chest to chest. You didn’t really mind because it was just a dance after all. Right?

You place your free hand on his shoulder, swaying to the music.

You stare up into his enticing eyes as if your were entranced by it. Slowly trailing your eyes to his big lips. Now you were extremely curious of what’s behind his mask. “From which kingdom are you?” You ask, mumbling your words.

His eyes peered down to your eyes in thought again, “I’ll answer all of your questions, when I get this mask off.” he whispers in your ear huskily causing you to shiver at his voice.

He didn’t come off to you suspicious or anything but his demeanor boasts arousal which wasn’t helping at the fact that you were slightly into his voice.

Okay maybe not slightly?—

. . .

Dancing across the ballroom and somehow not hitting any other partners was comforting since your own partner held you comfortably.

That is when you caught a familiar purple hair through the dancing figures, it was Changbin, dancing with....

Is that Han? You thought in shock as Changbin was practically being lead on by his partner. The partner suddenly lifted him up, princess style. Carrying him as if he was a feather.

Your partner noticed the constant staring just above his shoulder, “What is it?” he murmured to you, wanting to know what’s caught your attention. “Um, friends.”

He spun you around to get a good glimpse, suddenly a grin was evident on his face after you looked up at him staring into the distance — the direction you were looking at earlier.

No words spoken in between, he lifted you up, princess style — knocking the breath out of you, “Wha—”

You almost let out a shriek from being carried, “Put me down— oh my god, If you drop me, I fucking swear Hyun.” you hiss at him, wrapping your arms around his neck to keep yourself from falling.

“I won’t. Trust me.” he said as he carried you throughout the dance, you clutching him as if your life depended on it. Trust is not you have with a stranger, what the hell

. . .

Music stopped playing as the people stopped moving.

You sighed in pure relief, almost worried for your back to be broken. The man, named Hyun finally put you down and allowed you to take a breather.

“You still up for that offer of meeting me later to answer questions?” he asked smiling, to which you nodded in agreement. “Meet me at the gardens in 2 hours” He whispered to your ear, hot breath leaving his beautiful and sexy li—

“The royal gardens of the Hwangs?” You asked flushed from his teasing. The outside of this huge ballroom should be off-limits. “That isn’t allowed though right?” you took a small step back to reduce close proximity.

“I got permission from the Hwangs.”

You were a bit skeptical, “Well... If you say so...” you agreed nonetheless, not wanting to offend the other.

He nodded happily before walking away, waving his backhand at you.

You spot Felix at the corner and rushed over to him, wanting to talk to one of your best friends.

. . .

Atleast 2 hours had already passed and your energy was pretty much drained from conversing and watching Han flirt with Changbin or trying out Felix’s recommended shark meat. Jeongin was there too, pretty much being his evil self and saying stuff like: “Oooh, is it the Kim prince or that mystery guy, huh. Pick a lover, Y/N.”

Seungmin also kinda joined the friend group to with you introducing him to them, Jeongin had a mischievous smile during introduction and if you were to bury him 10 feet to the ground, you wouldn't mind. Ugh.

You realized that it was time to meet the masked man, so you excused your self from your friend group and sneakily rushed towards a door out of the room, remembering the structure of this place and where the garden is.

. . .

After some twist and turns in first floor hallway, you come face to face with a glass door, the sun that was setting was reflecting through it. You could see the tall and trimmed bushes outside as you step out. White roses were neatly sticking on the walls as the vines were all over it.

You hum as you walked around, “He didn’t exactly say where to meet him..” You scratched your head, trying to catch a shadow or a person. You eventually had to explore it a bit, sighing in annoyance as you saw a maze, “Hyun!” you shouted with all you could muster, knowing that most should be inside the party.

Birds fly out from tree at the heard noise...

Long minutes had already passed and not a single soul has been seen by your eyes.

You hung your head low and scanned the huge garden as a sigh escaped your lips, “Yeah... This is the worst.” you sulked slightly.

It’s worse to be stood up than rejected.. Atleast the person has the humility to show up when rejecting someone.

A shiver went through your spine as a cold gust of wind flew by, clutching your own arms. Disappointment was shown in your frown as you wanted to stay for a few minutes longer in hope.

. . .

You sighed, running your fingers over your scalp. As you were about to go inside, small footsteps were heard from the distance causing you to freeze in your steps and slowly turned your head to the miniscule noises.

A tall figure was walking towards you as you squinted your eyes to identify their face.

No way.. Is that...?

Fuck, it was the birthday boy — Prince Hwang Hyunjin, as if already admiring his face from earlier wasn’t enough, you had to see his pretty face again.

You were about to run inside when the Hwang shouted, “If you move, I will call the guards on you, Prince Y/N.”

Fuck.

Frozen dead in your tracks at his threat, you watched as he lurked closer, a hint of smirk dancing on those gorgeous lips.

“Prince Hyunjin, apologies but I thought someone was to meet me here..” you tried to reason out, hoping to not embarrass yourself any further by lying or trying to run.

You half-bowed to him, knowing that even though you were also a prince — He bears the name of Hwang, one of this continents, four largest kingdom.

As much as you wanted to keep your pride, it was disrespectful for a lower royal to not bow to a higher one.

He reached you and grasped your shoulder before pulling you up straight, he pulled you in by the waist causing a unintelligible sound to come out of your throat.

Familiar.

You looked at him, shocked, your mouth agape from the sudden distance change and his warmth. He held your waist tighter, pulling you impossibly closer.

Chest to chest.

Seeing your eyes he laughed, “So, what questions are you gonna ask?” he said, one of his eyebrow raised up in question.

Hyun.

. . . .

. . . .

“So, Prince Y/N. Care for hanging out with a Hwang?” He confidently asked with a smirk engraved on his lips, before he slowly reached and traced his thumb on your bottom lip. Relishing on the expressions you create.

Just a simple touch on your lips felt like a firestorm was raging inside, warmth spread across your body as heartstrings were pulled at his words.

. . .

“Sure...?” you whispered out unsure after a long silence as another gust of wind hit your back causing you to slightly shiver.

You still couldn't believe that he danced with you earlier, posing with a fake name. Though he said that it was because he didn't want to scare you off.

He was dangerous in a way, fooling with people on the higher end of the royal hierarchy is one dangerous feat.

But for some reason, you craved for his touch at this very moment, you didn’t know if it was because you maybe longed for him in that opening ceremony or that you barely have someone touch you intimately.

Hyunjin started feeling you up more while also undressing you with his eyes.

It started with light pecks to your jaw, transitioning into bodily touches like waist grabbing and slight groping. You were writhing because his touches — struggling to speak as every peck, every touch keeps your mind adrift away. You didn't even notice the bulge on your bottom garments starting to get noticeable.

“I—” you tried to catch your breath at his advances, “I d-dont think we should do this here, we might get caught..” you trailed off, tapping on his shoulder as a pleasured sigh left your mouth.

“Hm? So you want to do this? Here I thought, you were going to reject me.” He mumbles as he kissed your neck lightly.

“Don’t get the wrong idea, ah~ You are going to finish what you started..” You whispered out, moaning in the middle of the sentence when he suddenly palm your bulge with a bit of pressure.

He trailed his lips to your ears, “You’re a needy slut, huh? Don’t worry, I intend to finish what I started...~ And by the end of it? You’d want more of this.” He bit your earlobe while kneading your butt with his right hand.

You bit your lip, wanting to keep embarrassing noises from coming up your throat.

“We haven't even known each other that much, yet here you are. Presenting yourself to me like a whore.” he degraded with a smirk after pulling himself away from your ear.

You weren’t one to fuck around but Prince Hwang is one of a kind — extremely sexy and intoxicating.

You want more of him.

“Cat’s got your tongue, little pup?”

“Fuck, I don’t care — J-Just not here... Might get caught.” You hiss pathetically as he squeezed harder on your bulge, grinding into his hand.

“Hmm.. Okay.” he said, looking in to your eyes with his own bearing hints of burning lust. He took your hand, leading you back inside.

. . .

“Wouldn’t be people be worried, that you were gone from the party? And it’s your celebratio—” you breathed out as he pinned you to the wall suddenly, suprising you as you stare at him with wide eyes.

“I don’t care about that right now.. What I care about is you on my bed, all spread out and ready to be used by me, hmm?” he mumbles lowly, kissing you on the lips — with you yelping at the sudden warmth and softness on your lips.

You wrapped an arm around his neck while you pulled on his long hair with your free hand. He groaned against your mouth. “Room, Hyunjin— p-please..” you mumble against his lips, pulling away after a second.

After Hyunjin pulled away he opened a door at a short moment’s notice before grabbed you and pullled you in. You didn’t even manage to look at the room's structure or designs as he already started to remove articles of clothing from you one by one.

“You know, how hard it was — seeing you from the crowds earlier talking to another royal, one that flirted with you at best? Maybe I should remind him who you would belong to now huh?” he looked at your naked form, licking his lips before slowly pushed you towards and down the bed.

You moaned at his words, even though you know full well that Seungmin didn't flirt with you one bit but just talking about interest. His hint of possessiveness turned you on highly.

He slowly removed his royal wear, exposing his own milky skin, smiling at the way you examined his body with your mouth slightly watering at the mere sight of it, he was without a doubt one of the most — if not the sexiest man you’ve laid your eyes upon.

His eyes turned to one of the drawer of his nightstand, he reached over and took out a small vial. “What is that?” you ask, eyeing the vial suspiciously.

“It’s rose oil, to reduce the pain.” he answered, leaning down to press a small bite against your rib, laughing lowly when he heard your breath hitch.

He placed the vial, on the sheet — next to you.

“You know, I had doubted you with your fight with your own knight. Never thought that I would find you willing to spread your legs open for me.” He says, not holding back on his cockiness.

Which guiltily made your cock twitch to which he responded — by taking a hold of your throbbing length.

“My pup liked that huh?” He said a grin forming on his lips — teasing, riling you up more.

“Pathetic.” he said in a chilling tone — massaging your left pec with his free hand. He brushed a finger tip on your nipple, before he leaned down and bit a circle mark on your now puffy bud.

You bit your lip, holding off any sounds to not boost his already huge ego. Squirming underneath him, shallowly thrusting into his hand that was grasping your cock.

His own dick was hard too, you could feel it poking your thighs in the slightest, its tip barely brushing against your skin.

Hyunjin didn’t like the lack of sounds one bit, he used his now free hand to place it at your lip, you looked at him confused.

When your mouth suddenly opened, breathing against his fingers — he took the opportunity to insert his slender fingers in your mouth.

“Hold in your sounds again, and I’ll make you choke on my dick. Got that?” he threatened, eerily glaring at you — his eyes were burning holes into your own.

You nodded submissively, to which he then turned his head into your leaking and throbbing cock. He leaned down — taking your cock in his mouth, sucking earnestly and running his tongue on the veins at the side.

You thrusted up into his mouth — a mix of whining and whimpering against his fingers that he was shoving down your throat.

His teeth brushed a tiny bit against your sensitive head causing you to cry out, sounding muffled by his fingers.

“C-Close..” You gurgled against his digits, he removed his mouth instantly from your length, a trail of spit connecting his mouth from your slit, smirking at you.

You let out a whine and tried to close your legs but Hyunjin was faster, he immediately placed his knees between your legs, keeping it open and spread.

“Tsk, Sluts don’t get to cum.” he growled, “Especially pathetic ones like you.”

He slowly pulled out his fingers from your mouth, coated in your own spit coating around it. He wiped his fingers on your sheets.

He look down at you as if you were prey to him — a small cat in a lion’s den, his eyes were heavily clouded with lust. He was itching, excited to claim you and your body, especially since you were willingly serving to him yourself in a silver platter.

He flipped you on all fours so that he could have easier access to your entrance, He smiled seeing you in such a vulnerable state, “You want this?” he mumbles leaning down to mouth at your shoulder, you whimper pushing back against him as you felt his dripping and hard cock press against the side of your ass.

You nodded twice as an answer to his question, he gripped your hair tightly, pulling on it. “Answer me, pup.” he growled deeply.

“Y-Yes.... fuck me, my—” You cut yourself off with a moan as Hyunjin touched the head of your overstimulated cock roughly. “Your what, pup?”

Dizzy from pleasure, you said the first thing that popped into your mind, “M-Master?” you moaned shortly after as he squeezed your hardening length.

“Mm, I’m your master, and you’re my slutty puppy. Aren’t you?” he said in a teasing voice, removing his hand from your cock before he prodded at your rim with a dry thumb. Applying pressure but not enough to breach the soft skin.

You let out a whimper, pushing against his fingers multiple times like a bitch in heat.

It was pathetic really, at how much willing you just want to be fucked by him already, you wrapped your own hand around your leaking length to remove some pressure — only to be met by the harsh grip of Hyunjin’s palm, “Touch yourself and I’d make sure you won’t cum tonight for a second time.”

You whined at his words and slowly remove your hand as your pre-cum started to drip down and dirty the sheets.

He finally took the vial of rose oil that he sat aside, opening it with a pop sound — he poured a generous amount of it on his fingers before prodding your entrance with two fingers. “Say ‘Red’ if it gets too much, pup, okay?” he said, showing off a softer side of him.

You looked at him wide eyes at smiled lightly before nodding.

You let out a thrilled moan as two fingers, quickly made work to stretch you out, you saw his cock and it looked like it won't be an easy fit unless you get properly stretched.

. .

Two fingers slowly turned to four after awhile, increasing the sound you were making and decreasing Hyunjin’s patience. He just wanted to fuck you at this point on, but for safety of you — not yet.

Hyunjin was purposefully avoiding your prostate, he didn't want you to cum yet from his fingers especially since you were dripping a lot.

Hyunjin kept pumping his fingers inside of you, while also ravishing different parts of you, getting into work of marking every part he could find — from your shoulders down to your pretty thighs. Almost every mark is either a dark purple hue or bright red bite.

“I’m ready, fuck... Hwang just fuck me already.” you said impatiently at how long he dragged on the teasing. Hyunjin laughed at how vocal you now were, quite the contrast to the babbling mess you were earlier.

“Don’t be impatient.” he said, glaring at you and taking a firm grip on your ass, squeezing it tightly. You scoff at him, reaching back and sneakily taking ahold of his cock — it leaking slight pre-cum on it’s tip.

“Like you aren’t impatient.” you retorted back even with his fingers basically deep inside you.

He growled deeply and pulled his fingers out — you letting out a clear moan at the rough movement of his digits. Your hole clenched around nothing, it slightly gaping from being stretched around four of his fingers.

“Pups should learn their place.” he said coldly, getting the vial and pouring all of the remaining contents on his hand before slowly jerking himself off to slick up his dick.

.

You heard some shuffling before suddenly the air was knocked out of you, “Fuck. Fuck.” you chanted as Hyunjin moments ago fucked into you, his hands flew into your hips as he already started a harsh pace turning your mind hazy.

“You like this already, huh?” He mumbles, gripping your hips tighter, as he deeply thrusts into you. He was still avoiding your sensitive spot all this time.

“Such a good cocksleeve for me.” he hums with a smirk as he finally hit your prostate — known by you letting out the loudest moan yet.

Ah ah ah coming from your lips and his hips loudly slapping against your ass was the only thing you heard in the room, you were getting the best fuck of your life right here.

You could feel every vein — every ridge on his cock against your walls as he thrusts into you mercilessly, fucking the words out of you. It felt amazing and exciting at the same time.

Your body has given up trying to hoist itself up, so you collapse on the bed in a slumping position. He was still harshly gripping your hips, using your hole for his pleasure. You were whining against the sheets and messing it up with your drool. You were close as he hit your prostate a third time causing you to moan loudly.

“No more words to answer back, Y/N? Or are you already fucked that dumb?” he says, speeding up his pace, wanting to chase his release.

He was splitting you in half and you just nod slowly as your fists were squeezing the bedsheet, He let out a breathy laugh at that and continued his thrusts, relishing at your tired moans and pretty whines.

You pushed back against his thrusts, increasing the friction by alot.

He hit your prostate one last time and came undone untouched and without his permission. You moan loudly, barely getting muffled as you dig your head further into the pillow nearby. Your cock was getting milked for all it’s worth as he reached out to jerk you, wanting to make sure to get every last drop.

His thrusts were getting sloppier by the second, before moments later — he finally came with a groan, spilling himself into you and coating your walls with his white cum.

You whimpered as you felt him pull out, feeling some of the white substance drip into your thighs, “I-Inside, want you..” you mumble with him barely hearing it.

“Shh, I’ll clean you up first pup.” Hyunjin said, leaving and going into his bathroom to find a damp cloth.

While he left for the bathroom, you laid there on your chest — sighing.

What happened to the 'no fucking around' rule that you seem to follow, you promised yourself that ‘Y’ was the first and last. You rolled over to your side, wincing at how the cum drizzled out of your swollen hole. He had a lot of cum suprisingly.

. .

On a short moment’s notice, Hyunjin finally arrived to find you laying to your side, your eyes signaling that you were deep in thought.

“You okay? Did I go too hard?” He walked near you to which your eyes drifted to his face slowly to which you gave him a small smile.

“No.. I had fun time, thank you for taking good care of me, Prince Hyunjin.” you answered him, keeping the small smile before you turned to him.

He nods, “Just call me Hyunjin, no need for formality.” he moves closer to you, sitting down next to your back. He trailed the towel in his hand near your hole — removing the cum around your ring of muscles gently.

“One problem though...” you whispered, looking up at him with tired eyss before eyeing the bruises and marks on your body made by the dominant prince.

He grins sexily, “Keep it as a reminder to you ans to people who’d dare sleep with you.” He said, touching the marks softy after wiping your hole that was seeping with his cum.

You groaned in annoyance, “I’m serious, Hwang.” you shot back to him with an impatient glare. You click your tongue as no answer came out of his mouth.

He grabbed a small vial of ointment from his drawers to make sure your skin wouldn’t have any problems from his bruises and to make sure it would heal. He hummed while he applied it on the marks.

You sigh and allowed to treat you before he opened his lips to speak, “I’ll go over to your kingdom tomorrow.” he mumbles, wiping his hand on the sheet as he grabbed an underwear from his drawer.

You watched him put it on, looking away from him a bit shy, to which thank god that he didn't notice.

You looked up at him questioningly, “Hm? Why?” you tilted your head like a puppy to which he moved closer to pet you.

“I want your hand in marriage.” he said straightforwardly with a smile plastered in his face. He grabbed your chin making you look up at him, he leaned down and kissed you before you squeak embarrassingly.

You look at him dumbfounded and shocked beyond belief — your mouth hanging open with eyes wide, “Hwang, what? You’re going a bit too fast—”

He grabbed your hand suddenly and kissed the top of it before looking up at you, “Nothing’s too fast when I already like you and I want you.”

You groaned, knowing he won't let this go. Your parents should reject since they know that you’re not ready for marriage yet. Right? Hopefully, you prayed silently that your parents for once reject something so outrageous.

“We’ll talk about this tomorrow, I’m too tire—”

“HYUNJIN! IT’S TIME FOR YOUR END SPEECH, OH MY GOD, I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU LEFT YOUR OWN PARTY.” Someone with a female voice yelled while banging on the other side of the door. You froze at the sudden noise.

“Tch, my sister doesn’t know the meaning of staying calm half of the time.” he mumbles, brushing his hand across his long hair.

“I’ll come down in a few!” Hyunjin said loud enough for the lady give a last hit to the poor door before leaving.

He looked at you before grabbing his clothes from the party and slowly dressed himself up, “I’ll see you, Y/N.” he said after getting fully dressed, he looked back and winked at you before smiling a bright one.

You sigh as you get up from his bed and limped to collect your clothes around the room, sighing once more as you dressed yourself up. “Marriage... hm.” you were having troubling thoughts about this, sudden marriage proposal — especially with someone you just met like 3 hours ago.

“Time to go fetch the dumbass and leave, I wanna sleep.” You said annoyed, referring to that stupid knight of yours that went missing when the event started.

You look at the closet mirror and fixed your hair also trying to cover the visible marks but to no avail still failed to do so. You were gonna sneak out of here, and hopefully Hwang just forgets what he said earlier.

.

.

.

.

.

Extended Scene

“Lino, I swear why do you look like a weirdo right now.” you said, looking at him with your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. You were referring to how he looked like dumbstruck with love.

He hisses at you, “Shut up, why do you have hickeys then huh?” Minho answered you with another question as he looked over to you and rolled his eyes.

You huff, “I’m telling my parents that you were disrespecting me early in the party.”

He smirks and looks over to you with one of his eyebrows raised, “Then I guess you wouldn't mind what fun you did in the party, I mean with the limping and stuff.” he threatens back, chuckling.

“You little shi—”

[yandearest]

MTOBEIYF Planned Ending

Apologies for not writing in a long time. I haven’t been able to work on my fic due to personal reasons. Not sure if I will have time in the future but didnt want to leave people hanging so here is the planned ending:

May come back to this one day, so obvious spoiler warning

CH 8 Hide and Seek

The girl from 6 attempts to kill YN but YN wakes up hearing the sound of twigs snapping as she climbs the tree. She feigns being asleep only to swing her knife when 6 gets close, causing her to lose her balance and fall from the tree to her death.

At the sound of a canon Hoseok awakens – immediately seeing Athena, Namjoon and Yoongi all still in the tent. Realizing it could only be 6 or YN Hoseok rushes out and starts screaming her name over the edge of the fall. When there’s no answer, he immediately grabs a bag along with bow and arrow, and leaves camp. Namjoon says he’s coming too and this time they won’t return without her – brings a sword.

Athena notices the boys leaving and follows without them realizing.

Back in the forest YN hasn’t eaten since the games began and is beginning to starve. In desperation she makes her way back towards the cornucopia to gather food but comes across a bush filled with berries. Remembering the training she spent on foods she can’t decide if the berries are blueberries or nightlock and decides to nibble just a little bit first. The taste is initially sweet so she swallows the mouthful before a numbing effect on the tongue and throat- making her realize it’s the poison nightlock. Quickly she shoves her finger down her throat and induces vomiting to bring up as much of the poison as possible, but some is still in her system. She forces herself to throw up again before drinking all the water left in her bottle to try and rehydrate only to throw up again. Makes a run for the river.

Athena sees the nightlock and vomit and thinks YN has gone to the waterfront to try and wash it out of her system given there was no canon – so she’s still alive – but no one is there. Athena tracks. Meanwhile Hoseok and Namjoon are both near the bottom of the hill – they make a truce to not attack each other until Yoongi and Athena are dead before splitting up to cover more ground. Namjoon takes the forest, Hoseok goes towards the water.

YN drags herself in and floats on her back, scooping water into her hand to try and drink before Athena suddenly appears above her. YN is weak, with no will to live, and can tell Athena is about to kill her and asks for a quick death to which Athena promises a stab to the heart. Athena tells her she really does look like an angel and YN responds that Athena is her angel of death, a mercy killing saving her from a much worse fate with Namjoon or Hoseok. Athena agrees and steadies her with one hand under her rib cage, YN holds onto her arm with her closest hand and stares up to the ‘sky’. But before Athena can strike a blow an arrow is launched into the side of Athena’s head and her dead body falls onto YN, who is too weak to push her off. Hoseok sprints out from his hiding place to rescue YN, meanwhile Namjoon, watching from inside the forest, decides to head back to camp before sunset – knowing Hoseok and YN will be safe together.

YN is barely conscious as Hoseok drags her out of the water. Shouldering her bag with the blanket inside, along with his own bag, he carries her over to the waterfall and to 7’s old camp inside. He lays her down before running off to fetch dry twigs and branches in order to build a fire. As the sun sets and the temperature drops YN is still wet from the river and beginning to freeze. Hoseok strips her of her clothes and wraps her in the thermal blanket before another gift from a sponsor arrives of a container of hot soup. Hoseok feeds her and YN becomes more conscious but increasingly depressed about having survived.

She blames him for taking away her painless exit from the games and he asks her what kind of death she wants. Remembering how sweet the berries were she tells him she wants to die by nightlock. She asks him to promise to let her eat nightlock if they are the final 2 and he doesn’t answer. She then asks how he would want to die and he says he doesn’t plan on it and tells her to instead imagine being old together. She jokes about growing old and living in the arena forever before saying the capital would force them to kill each other somehow.

Still shivering under the blanket Hoseok strips off his remaining clothing to warm her up with skin to skin contact from behind. Initially starts with rubbing her arms before his hands circle around to her breasts.

YN feels ashamed at how quickly she responded and tries to push Hoseok away only for him to push her onto her back. She puts her hands against his chest unsure if she was trying to pull him closer or away. Looking her in the eyes he sees them glassy and in shock as he tries to sooth her, running his fingers through her hair lovingly. The other hand holds hers before moving his hand to wrap her thigh around his hip, kissing her as he pushes in. Hoseok wipes a tear from her cheek, a combination from the shame and how good the sex is feeling. Her eyelashes flutter close and she sighs her head tilting to the side resting her forehead against their joined hands letting out whimpers whenever he pushes inside of her.

His other arm braces himself by the side of her head, caging her underneath his body. She stares up at him entranced by the warm light of the fire casting a golden glow on his tan skin, as the shadows emphasize his sharp cheekbones, pointed nose, and strong jawline. If she was an angel then Jung Hoseok was the devil himself and she was being dragged to hell.  Hoseok uses his shirt to wipe her down before holding her tightly against him as they both fall asleep by the fire.

X

CH 9 A fate worse than death

They’re awoken by the sound of a canon early in the morning and quickly realize that they’re now down to just 3 people. YN wants to stay in the cave and wait for the last person to try and find them here but Hoseok wants to confront them at camp, telling her to wait for him. She refuses and follows him. He warns her of traps they set around the camp and holds her hand to guide her through the forest.

Nearing the camp they see Yoongi’s body floating face down in the river, ‘Namjoon wants us to know it’s him’ YN wants to walk through the river to avoid leaving tracks but Hoseok says it’s too visible and steers them back into the forest to take another way around to the camp, along the area he set the traps up in. Hoseok becomes suspicious the traps he set have been moved only to trigger a rope trap that he dodges only for YN to be caught in a net. As Hoseok tries to find the rope to cut her down Namjoon appears, severing the back of his leg with a knife. YN screams and Namjoon remarks that he looks forward to hearing more of that sound after he finishes with Hoseok, saying sharing time is up and that he wants to have his way with his district mate before securing his victory. He toys with Hoseok, making deep cuts that are painful, but not lethal – taunting him. It becomes increasingly clear that Namjoon deliberately toned down his skills in the training and assessment and is even smarter and stronger than his 10. Meanwhile YN is inside the net cutting a hole. As Namjoon teases Hoseok, telling him he’s going to force her to watch him die, then he’s going to fuck her and finally gut her like a fish from their district, YN falls out from the net and breaks her arm on impact – alerting Namjoon. Namjoon decides he wants to force Hoseok to watch and stabs his him through the hand with an arrow pinning him to the ground.

‘Silly little dove,’ Namjoon taunts as he reaches her laying on the ground – falsely thinking she’s cradling her broken arm – but she really has a knife. When he grabs her by the hair and yanks her up she swings her arm and slashes him across the chest, drawing blood. Namjoon sneers and goes to hit her but remembering their sparing session from training YN dodges the attack and is able to land another slash in with the knife, this time across his arm. Namjoon acknowledges his mistake in underestimating her and promises it won’t happen again. YN attempts to surprise him by attacking first but he blocks the knife and slams her wrist against a boulder until she drops it. YN slams her knee up in Namjoon’s groin who retaliates by gripping her broken arm and slamming her against the boulder. In too much pain from the broken arm she can’t defend herself when NJ backhands her across the face, sending her to the ground. She reaches for her knife but he steps on her arm and she screams in pain as Hoseok snaps the arrow in half and pulls his hand out of the broken stem, biting down on his shoulder to try and smother his scream. Namjoon leans down to grab her knife, holding it to her throat as he straddles her waist and tells her he’s going to claim her as his, and if she behaves then he’ll give her the quick death. YN sobs as he reaches for her pants only for Hoseok to appear behind and stab Namjoon in the neck with the tip half of the broken arrow. Namjoon drops the knife in shock and YN quickly picks it up and stabs him in the heart mockingly saying she’s granting him a quick death. She kicks his body off of hers and he floats down the stream towards the edge of the waterfall before disappearing off the side. – a canon sounds

Both injured, YN and Hoseok collapse into each others arms. Hoseok has multiple stab wounds, a bad one on his leg and the hole in his hand from the arrow. YN has her broken arm, a bruise on her face from the hit and a cut on her throat from where the knife had been held. Hoseok confesses he loves her as he cradles her in his arms, YN with her eyes closed and leaning against his chest can’t bring herself to admit her love but instead asks him to let her eat a nightlock berry like she tried to make him promise. Hoseok holds her tighter and asks if she trusts him. She says yes and Hoseok leans down to kiss her one last time which she returns. ‘close your eyes angel’ she does. With his injured hand he wraps his arm around her neck to cut off circulation, his good hand covers her nose and mouth, smothering her. She tries to struggle but passes out within 10 seconds, he keeps the hold for another 10 and the canon sounds

Hoseok is declared the winner of the games

 *

 YN awakens inside of a medical bay. Confused she wonders if she is in a strange version of hell, or if the capitol has somehow found a way to harvest souls, before a nurse realizes she is conscious. She is informed that the trackers injected into the body detect when the heart stops beating which sounds the canon. Hoseok had refused to leave her body and demanded she be taken with him on the ship that came to claim him as the winner and remove him from the arena. Immediately on board he began to resuscitate her and is able to start her heartbeat again. He convinces the capital workers to let him keep her. She had died, he had won the games, if he could revive her afterwards it wouldn’t make a difference to them, they could continue to let everyone think she had died. The capital agrees on the conditions she is to live with him and never able to leave their mansion in the victors’ village and Hoseok is to comply with any future demands of the capital to do with his obligations as a winner. He accepts and the medical team take them both away. YN asks where she is now and the doctor tells her inside of the train. Hoseok is on victory tour of all the districts and refuses to let her be taken away from him – fearing the capital will dispose of her. He fears she could still be killed whilst inside the train but he would also raise hell during one of the stops if that happened. YN is confused, distraught and traumatized when Hoseok walks in to see her awake. He runs to her side and envelops her in a hug, kissing her. He repeats how much he loves her and that nothing can ever take her form this world without him following right behind her. YN is in shock, not believing she is alive, not believing Hoseok is real and struggling to speak. The doctor tries to explain to Hoseok she may have brain damage and it’s a possibility she could never recover. The only thing Hoseok cares about is that she is alive.

A summary of the tour continuing with YN recovering although her speech is permanently impaired (aphasia). When they finally conclude and return to 2 she is moved in a van that is disguised to look like a delivery and transported inside of a box from the van to the house, so no one can possibly see her.

Inside the blinds are shut and all the doors are locked before Hoseok appears again and forces an ‘engagement’ ring on her finger, but there is a device inside that tracks her location. YN begins to panic, she went from being trapped in one arena to trapped forever in this house. She tries to run but there’s nowhere to run to. She runs to the kitchen to search for a knife but Hoseok restrains her before she can injure herself. She goes limp in his arms losing all hope as he whispers in her ear how much he loves her and now they can always be together forever.

[delimeful]

or set your teeth against my throat (2)

warnings: illness, mild emeto, bad decisions, miscommunication, short panic attack/flashback

---

As the night turned to dawn and then day, Roman didn’t stop running.

He couldn’t stop, even as his pace grew more and more sluggish, his path erratic. Every time he thought about pausing, finding a good campsite and finally letting himself take a breath, it was as though phantom sensations grasped at his skin or tore at his throat.

He kept moving.

It was stupid, probably, being driven forward by fear like a mindless animal. … It was definitely stupid. Still, after ages spent trapped in one form, the full moon’s pull on the wolf in him was irresistible.

For the first time in ages, he worried about the possibility of coming astray of a human settlement once the moon was overhead. Normally, Virgil was the one who dedicated himself to making sure their pack’s turning ground was far from any stab-happy humans, always double and even triple-checking.

In his current state, Roman could barely discern a single natural scent around him, let alone any human scents he should avoid. He kept feeling eyes on him, silent watchers, but the distinction between reality and his own terrified delusions was growing thinner.

When the sun finally sank below the horizon, Roman allowed himself to collapse on a soft patch of earth under a shielding copse of saplings. He had some hope, however shallow, that by wearing himself out, his wolf would spend the night curled up somewhere, settled into a sleep heavy enough to erase the pounding headache settled deep in his skull.

He’d been a fool to let himself hope.

His memories while fully-turned were foggy as usual, but the emotions were clear: he’d spent his entire night on the move. His wolf had been howling long, agonized calls into the dark around him, desperately searching for the other members of his small pack. Desperately waiting for a response that would never come.

To top it all off, when he woke up human-shaped in the early hours of dawn, his headache had only grown worse.

His only turn of fortune was that his wolf hadn’t traveled back the way he’d come, driven away by some immutable sense of danger. He could at least be grateful he wouldn’t have to make up for any lost progress, even if his body was weak and trembling from being pushed past the brink of exhaustion.

The further he got from those bloodsuckers, the better.

His vision blurred slightly with each step. It was seeming more and more likely that he was growing feverish, though it was hard to tell with nobody else around to ask. He kept pressing a hand to his forehead and neck, trying to gauge his temperature, but his hands were warm, too.

He’d complained about his packmates’ terrible circulation and icy fingers before, but there was very little he wouldn’t do for them now… Just the phantom memory of Virgil’s cool hand on his head, voice sharp but touch unbearably gentle, was enough to make tears prick his eyes.

He took a deep breath, forcing himself up on shaky legs. There was no way he could give up now, feverish or not. What would his packmates advise?

“For survival, shelter and water are most important,” he mumbled to himself, wincing at the poor imitation. He cleared some of the raspiness from his throat, imagining Logan’s face when he really got into sharing his newest bit of knowledge. “Running water is preferable to still water, which can carry illnesses, and for larger rivers there is also the potential to find freshwater food sources, like salmon, catfish, bass, um… pike, trout… cod?” He frowned, losing the careful enunciation. “Wait, is salmon freshwater?”

Logan could have listed more off, Roman was sure, but the effort helped cheer him nonetheless. He spent the next few hours winding his way through the forest, attempting every so often to sniff the air for damp soil with little success.

His ears still worked fine, however, and so when he caught the first distant trickle of rushing water, he wasted no time in following the sound. It was no river, but the stream was plenty to help quench the dryness in the back of his throat.

“Go upstream,” he could imagine Virgil demanding, “make yourself harder to track. Wolves aren’t the only ones out there with good noses.”

“The water is so cold, though,” he complained to himself even as he began sloshing through it. “I have squishy human flesh, I’m going to freeze to death.”

Here was where Logan would point out his exaggeration, and Virgil would snap something snarky to distract him from the chill.

The burbling of the water was a poor substitute.

Once his feet grew truly chilled, he waded back out, mimicking Virgil’s voice to caution himself against the more slippery-looking rocks. He probably looked a little silly, holding both parts of a conversation, but it wasn’t as though anyone was around to see.

“Cut me some slack,” he muttered to nobody, allowing the comfort of his wolf form to slide back into place as the day turned to a chilly evening and he lay to rest. “I’m maybe-possibly-feverish, I deserve good things.”

He slept fitfully, and when he woke, there was a gray coat draped over him, and a small pile of walnuts and blackberries sat at his side, the nuts already shelled and the berries freshly washed.

The incredibly suspicious nature of their appearance only stopped Roman from eating them for about five minutes, and four of those five minutes were dedicated to imagining all the reasons Virgil would list to not eat them.

“Sorry, Virge,” he said through a mouthful of fruity deliciousness.

There didn’t seem to be anyone around, and no matter how he buried his face in the coat lining, his nose was too stuffed to pick up anything. It was an extraordinarily soft coat, though, and he felt awfully cold. It was hard for even him to imagine what harm could be done with a coat.

“I’m accepting this Possibly Evil Coat, but only for a little while, so don’t get any ideas!”

The woods were quiet in response to his declaration, and he sniffed daintily before climbing to his feet, internally bemoaning the way the world swayed slightly as he moved.

Couldn’t he just sleep here a bit longer…?

He imagined the unimpressed looks his packmates would give him. Imaginary Virgil in particular wouldn’t stand for sitting around when there was every possibility he was still being hunted.

“For all you know, that vamp was just a sick mind trick, and they’ve been toying with you this whole time!” Virgil would say, jumping to the worst-possible scenario that Roman always stalwartly tried to ignore. He shuddered, glancing around himself.

“You are not helping my mood, mister,” he muttered to Imaginary Virgil as he tromped through the underbrush with much less elegant grace than usual.

The little mystery offerings from the morning had helped stave off his plummeting energy levels, but they weren’t enough. It was only midday when the lightheadedness and the chills shuddering through him became too much, and he found himself collapsed on the ground between one blink and the next.

He was contemplating the benefits of simply remaining facedown on the dirt for a while when a cool hand wrapped around his wrist, carefully tugging him onto his back.

Roman blinked at the face above him, the blurry features slowly resolving themselves into the shape of the vampire who had freed him only nights before. The fear that shot through him didn’t make him any more lucid, and Roman bared his teeth in a snarl that was probably much less fearsome on a human face.

“Told you so,” Imaginary Virgil said, instead of doing anything helpful like tearing a vampire’s throat out. Roman missed Real Virgil.

The vampire was talking, a low, constant noise meant to soothe as he shifted an arm around Roman’s shoulders, lifting him to his feet. The blood rushed to his head, vision going black-- the next thing he knew, he was inside a small cabin, swaddled in blankets, the hearth crackling merrily feet away.

… What had he been worrying about? He couldn’t remember.

A chill shuddered through him. He was still so cold, even as sweat drenched the cloth around him, and he complained relentlessly.

His packmates tolerated his sickbed whining as graciously they always did, though for some reason they were more hesitant than normal to hold him close when he called for them. They seemed to be taking his care in shifts, as there was only ever one person in view, and sometimes he woke up completely alone.

(Strange, since they normally all piled up together when one of them got sick. They probably just needed to prioritize hunting or checking their territory boundaries or something. Roman wasn’t that sick.)

When they were there, Roman rambled and bickered with them nonstop, through shudders and chattering teeth, telling old stories and adding new twists to distract from the sickness ravaging him, only pausing when they pressed coriander seeds or wormwood to his lips.

(That was a little strange. Logan knew mint worked better for Roman’s nausea. Maybe they were out?)

Time passed in a haze, marked only by the frequent offers of fresh water and stale rations. Eventually, he was able to even measure out his healing progress by how often he could keep the aforementioned nutrients down.

(One of them was busy hunting, but somehow there was never any fresh kill.)

He knew his fever had finally, properly broken when he reached out for the one who had been taking care of him all this time, and registered that their skin was icy-cold.

Roman jerked back and then instantly regretted it as every nerve in his body protested severely.

“Ah, careful!” warned the vampire, who was at least smart enough to stay out of immediate biting range. His hands fluttered around as though he was attempting to bat away the dark spots that were currently dotting Roman’s vision.

Unbidden, a rough growl tore from him. He had a heartbeat to feel vindicated at the vamp’s flinch before his breath caught in his throat, kicking off an uncontrollable coughing fit.

Each wheeze brought less and less air, and when he caught the vampire shuffling closer, it suddenly felt like he had no air at all. He hunched over his knees, shifting his hands to cover his neck pathetically, as though the motion could protect him.

“Back off,” he snapped, cursing himself when the words came out as barely more than a choked whisper. How many times had he said some variation on the phrase in the past few weeks? He should have learned by now that it never worked.

When he glanced up, though, he found the vampire had practically teleported all the way across the room. The sight of the vamp peering at Roman worriedly from the furthest corner was odd enough to yank his mind out of the half-formed flashback.

He took a deep breath, trying to remember the grounding exercises Virgil always ran through. His wrists were light, his knees didn’t ache; he wasn’t chained down. There was soft fabric around him, and warmth in the air; it was a far cry from cold cement platforms in lifeless forts.

There was a vampire here, but his eyes weren’t red, and he didn’t wear a cruel smile like a second skin. Roman might still be a prisoner, but he wasn’t there anymore.

Instead, his current location was… a curiously cozy cabin?

Roman blinked. It was a single room, a bit sparse in decor but containing a small coal stove, stocked pantry, and a cheerily roaring fireplace. He was sitting on the solitary bed, a nest of blankets creased around him.

He turned his blank gaze back to the vampire. For a moment, the only noise in the room was the low crackle-pop of burning wood.

“Are you okay?” the vampire finally asked, brow creased with what looked like genuine concern. “You’ve been really burning up, and fevers like that can take a lot out of you. At least,” a pause, “as fire as I know.”

Any and all snappy responses (both literal and metaphorical) flew instantly from Roman’s mind. He groaned and slumped over dramatically, ignoring the way his vision swam slightly at the movement. “Augh, that was terrible!”

The vampire grinned, his smile somehow dorky even with the visible fangs. “You don’t have to tell me twice: I’m a fast burner!”

“Are you sure?” Roman asked. “Because this is the worst thing you’ve done to me yet, and I’m including the mind games, apparent abduction, and imprisonment.”

“Flameous last words,” the vamp said, and then the rest of Roman’s statement seemed to catch up with him. He drooped like a wilting flower. “You’re not imprisoned here! And I’m not trying to... mess with you, or anything.”

Roman gave him an unimpressed look. “Just so we’re on the same page, that’s a yes on you abducting me, correct?”

“I mean, yeah, just a little bit,” the vampire admitted, “but I meant it in a helpful way! I wasn’t going to bother you at first, I promise, but then you got sick, and I could tell how feverish you were just looking at you, and--,”

“Wait,” said Roman, his brain slowly churning through the implications of that sentence, “you were just going to follow me without me knowing, the entire way--,” home, he didn’t say, because the mere thought of accidentally leading a coven of vicious vampires to his vulnerable packmates made his stomach turn, and then he was leaning over and being violently ill in the bucket beside his bed.

A cold weight settled against the back of his neck, soothing against his overheated skin for the few seconds it took him to realize what-- or rather, who it was. He jerked away with a halfhearted snarl, probably looking rightly pathetic.

“I’m sorry,” the vampire said mournfully, stopping him short. “I wasn’t trying to upset you, I just-- I knew it was my fault. If I’d gotten the key sooner, or been braver, you wouldn’t have been out in the cold for so long, you might not have caught sick at all. It wouldn’t be right for me to abandon you.”

“Abandon me?” Roman spluttered. What did this guy think he was, some lost pup? “I can take care of myself just fine alone, thank you very much! I have absolutely no need for suspicious sanguinous stalkers on my tail.”

For emphasis, he shoved the blankets off of himself, swung his legs over the edge of the bed, and stood up in preparation to leave.

One blink later, he was facedown on the floor, his body numb yet his nose stinging from the impact. “Ow.”

The vampire offered him a hand up. “Autumn is my favorite season, but that certainly didn’t seem like a very nice fall.”

“Must you kick a man while he’s down?” Roman bemoaned, ignoring the proffered hand in favor of pushing himself up.

His traitorous legs wobbled under him, and he ended up collapsing back into a seated position on the bed, right where he’d started. He felt a wave of familiar despair wash over him. The sickness had sapped every ounce of strength from him; whatever villainous plans lay ahead, he had no chance of foiling them.

… Maybe he could still foil some of them.

Roman met the vampire’s gaze as solidly as he could. “No matter how adeptly you try to play the kindly stranger role, I’m not going to fall for it.” I’m not going to lead you to my family. “You may as well cut your losses and do whatever it is you’re planning to do to me.”

He waved a dismissive hand for emphasis, as if it didn’t matter to him. As if the mere idea of getting so close to freedom and then dying (alone, far from his pack, without them ever even knowing what happened to him) wasn’t enough to make him feel like there were roots tangling in his lungs and weeds clogging his throat.

The vampire nodded slowly, a troubled look on his face. “In that case…”

He moved closer, and Roman focused very intently on not flinching, no matter how badly he wanted to, or how hard his body was already shaking. The vampire reached out--

“My name is Patton,” he said, very carefully offering his hand at the midpoint between them, “and what I want is for you to stay right here in this house until you’re healed, and then you can go wherever you want to go, and I’ll make an oath not to follow.”

“What?” Roman blurted, staring at Patton’s hand with blatant confusion. “You-- I-- What?”

“I really don’t want to hurt you, kiddo.” Roman stiffened, because that was a classic villain line setup if he’d ever heard one, but-- “So, once you’re healed, whatever you need me to do to prove it, I’ll do it.”

Roman’s increasing headache had nothing to do with his fever and everything to do with the oxymoron that was a philanthropist bloodsucker.

What was the right option? He couldn’t get away, but he couldn’t trust that this bizarre hospitality would last, either. Perhaps the best course of action here was inaction-- lulling the vampire into a false sense of security by pretending to be sick even as he grew healthy enough to escape?

Roman could act. He was good at it, and the bar for his illness had been set quite convincingly with his earlier faceplant. He let his muscles go lax, slumping over slightly to give off the impression of conceding without actually ever agreeing to Patton’s proposed plan.

“If you’re so intent on me trusting you, you can start by telling me where I am,” he sniffed, graciously not mentioning the abduction thing again.

Patton brightened, letting his offered hand drop without comment. “This is an aidhouse! It’s part of a system recently set up in this division of the kingdom for common good and to prevent spread of disease.”

That explained the insulated, if somewhat bare, interior. Roman raised a curious eyebrow. “And they’ll let just anyone use it?”

“That’s the principle behind it, yep! Normally, with non-plague cases, an apothecary apprentice would stop by to check in and offer guidance, but I told them I had it apothecovered!”

The puns were apparently a permanent fixture in the guy’s repertoire. Logan would be in agony. Roman ignored the pang in his chest at the thought, leaning further back against the pillow mound. “Yes, you wouldn’t want some poor apprentice to stick around long enough to find out there’s a lone vampire in their midst, would you?”

Dial it back, he could imagine Virgil hissing, as though the emo had any room to talk about unnecessary vitriol.

“Well, no,” Patton admitted, his smile turning a little strained. “But I turned them away because I already have all the experience I need! I worked as a full-time doctor before-- um, before...”

The smile turned full-on tremulous, and Roman was seized by a strange panic at the sight of it. He sprawled over the bed haughtily, the way he always did when demanding attention from his workaholic packmates.

“If you’re such a skilled doctor, then I’m sure you won’t have any problems running me through your treatments so far?” Roman challenged, inspecting his nails. It wasn’t a pointless query, either; some common human treatments were toxic to werewolves.

“Oh!” Patton said, voice still a little choked up. “Of course, let me see…”

The brink-of-tears quality to his words faded as he began to recount everything Roman had missed in his feverish haze. Patton’s exposition was nothing like Logan’s, cheerful rambling and jokes thrown in where Logan preferred efficient lists and muttered tangents.

Roman found himself drifting off to the sound regardless.

It seemed that pretending to trust Patton wouldn’t be as hard as he’d thought.

[ticklygiggles]

Pranks for Lucifer | The Fantastic Three

Collab with @otomiya-tickles

A/N: Huhu, we're at it again! It had been a hot minute since my sweet Ginny girl and I wrote something together, and of course we had to write something with our current obsession: Obey Me!

Summary: The Anti-Lucifer Squad is plotting again like always, and Lucifer complains about it to Diavolo and Barbatos. Minor mistake! Looks like his borthers and that human aren't the only ones he should be careful of!

Words: 2,493

"What kind of plan?" Barbatos asked curiously, munching on one of his favorite Madam Scream's Macarons, looking as carefree as he could be, even as he was sitting right beside his Master.

Lucifer narrowed his eyes, not at Barbatos, but in general. He had been dealing with a particular trio all week and just told his two companions the gist of it.

"Now, you're probably overthinking, Lucifer!" Diavolo reasoned, his calm demeanor almost making Lucifer angry.

Of course he was not overthinking. He knew his brothers better than anyone, especially Belphie and Satan. They were always up to something, trying to embarrass and piss off Lucifer, and now they had found an ally and who knows what kind of pranks they pull in the Human World?

"I'm telling you," Lucifer said with a sigh, seeing how Barbatos reached out for another Macaron. "They're up to something. The human has been… extremely touchy these past few days,” he explained, recalling all the times he felt the human's hands on him only yesterday. "Faking they almost fell and landing on me, holding onto my sides and squeezing unnecessarily hard."

"Why do you say 'faking'?" Diavolo inquired, tilting his head to the side. "Humans are silly creatures and not as gracious. They tend to fall a lot, don't they?"

Barbatos chuckled behind a gloved hand and Lucifer looked at him cautiously, "Young Master, humans do tend to fall all the time, but is it not a little weird that Satan and Belphie seem to be there every single time it happens?"

"How do you know?" Lucifer asked, frowning a little.

Barbatos looked at him with a sided grin, "I have been watching too, Lucifer," he said and Lucifer couldn't stop the sudden warmth assaulting his cheeks, he cleared his throat.

"What? Why is Lucifer blushing?" Diavolo asked excitedly, pointing at Lucifer’s cheeks, which he tried to cover up with haste.

“Am not,” he said, but Barbatos already replied, “Hehe. Why My Lord, I think Lucifer is only telling us half of the story.” Lucifer turned his head rapidly, looking at Barbatos in surprise.

“What do you mean?” he asked, noticing the rather teasy look on Barbatos’ face.

“You act like you don’t know. But don’t go tell us something without finishing the story,” Barbatos continued, and Diavolo looked from one to the other, chirping happily “what what?”.

“There is nothing more I need to tell you except that they have been acting strange. Suspicious brothers, touchy human, end of the story,” Lucifer argued calmly, but his heart was racing. When he welcomed Barbatos and Diavolo into his private office and they spotted the scheming trio hopping around Lucifer’s door before bolting off, he thought he could explain briefly how they had been acting funny all this time.

Obviously he knew all their tricks and plans, and among them was one particular thing they were plotting: they were trying to tickle him, but was that really a detail he should mention? Ah, he shouldn’t have underestimated Barbatos. He tried to shrug it off and took his teacup for a few hasty sips, burning his lips slightly.

“Hmm,” Barbatos hummed, looking not so impressed.

“He is all flustered,” Diavolo observed aloud, still sounding slightly confused, but intrigued.

“Am not,” Lucifer sighed again.

"He does," Barbatos mumbled with a smirk as he reached for yet another macaron. "Can My Lord guess what Lucifer's brothers and that funny human are trying to do?"

"Don't," Lucifer warned, looking at Barbatos with nasty eyes and then at Diavolo. "There's nothing to guess, I was just letting you know since they were acting suspiciously when you-

"Are they trying to tickle him?" Lucifer widened his eyes slightly and he cursed when he felt the warmth over his cheeks creeping to his ears.

Barbatos covered his mouth as he let out a charming laugh. "My Lord really is quick," he said, clearing his throat. "Indeed, Lucifer didn't want to admit they're trying to tickle him. I think it's a fun prank," he teased, raising an eyebrow toward Lucifer and grinning wildly.

Lucifer growled just as Diavolo laughed brightly. "It is a good prank. I wonder if they'd found out where Lucifer is the most ticklish?"

"Shall we ask them?"

"Don't you dare," Lucifer said, feeling his stomach doing a little awkward flutter, his heart racing. "Look, I just thought briefly that they were trying to do so-

"To do what?" Diavolo asked with a grin just as wild as Barbatos'.

Lucifer stared at him. Of course he was going to force him to say it, he swallowed and settled into the couch, trying to look calm. "To tickle me, but of course they wouldn't dare to try something so childish."

The happy smirks at the sound of the word they were waiting for really made Lucifer feel uncomfortable, and he unconsciously tensed up completely, keeping the teacup in his lap as if it could offer some protection.

“No, perhaps they would not,” Barbatos said calmly. Lucifer’s heart was pounding against his chest. As much as he felt himself driven into a corner by these two, he refused to make the first move. The silence between Barbatos’ and Diavolo’s words seemed to take ages too, making the anticipation only grow.

“But we do. Don’t we Barbatos?” Diavolo said gleefully, confirming Lucifer’s fears.

“Yes, we do. I think Lucifer should drink his tea first,” Barbatos said. Lucifer really tried not to show how flustered he was getting here. They were just calmly plotting to tickle him now after all this, right in his face?

“Please do not lower yourselves to my brothers’ level,” he tried to argue, clenching the cup carrying the hot liquid in his hand. They were going to tickle him, they definitely were. He had to get out of this.

Diavolo chuckled, shaking his head softly. "When you know where Lucifer is ticklish, there's no such thing as lowering levels," he said calmly and Lucifer noticed how Diavolo's eyes were intently looking at his cup of tea, waiting for Lucifer to drink the whole thing.

This tea was the only thing protecting him from an inevitable attack, so he clung to his cup, not caring if the liquid grew cold.

From the corner of his eyes, he saw Barbatos moving forward and Lucifer couldn't help but flinch backward with a soft gasp. Barbatos and Diavolo laughed softly.

"What is wrong, Lucifer?" Barbatos asked, grabbing a third macaron. "Are you a bit jumpy now?"

Lucifer wanted to disappear. "Why are you doing this?" He nearly whined, eyeing his companions and then the door of his room. "I'll kick you both out of here if you do anything funny," he warned.

"Now, Lucifer. Why are you being so mean? We just want to have some fun!" Diavolo said, overly excited. "And since you already finished your tea, I'm sure you want to have fun too, right?"

"My-!" Lucifer looked down and he widened his eyes. His cup was empty! Not even a single drop of tea inside. "What- how did you- No." It was no use though. Diavolo gently placed a hand on Lucifer’s leg while Barbatos leaned forward and easily and gracefully snatched the empty cup from his hands. Lucifer grabbed after it as if it would do him anything good, but Diavolo’s hand moved from his knee to his arm while Barbatos put the cup on the table.

“Shall we start?” he asked eagerly. Barbatos chuckled. “Please do not ask me, My Lord. It is your call.” Oh, that it was. Diavolo dove after Lucifer like a happy child, instantly grabbing ahold of his torso with wiggling and digging fingers. Lucifer gasped, but on his other side appeared Barbatos.

“S-stop, you two t-this isn’t.. H-hey!” he gasped, managing to hide his laughter so far, but still, they were going too far! Barbatos placed a hand gently on his knee and squeezed, firm enough to make Lucifer jolt a little.

“Sensitive as ever,” he said, and it sounded like a compliment, but Barbatos was smirking and ahhh Lucifer really wanted to squirm out of here, but he only felt Diavolo hold onto him tighter.

“Hey hey where do you think you’re going?” he teased, his fingers on his torso spreading out and digging in more firmly. Lucifer gasped again, fighting back any sort of laugh or giggle that threatened to come out.

“You’re aha- you’re beheing like Belphie and Sata-ahh!” Lucifer felt his ability to resist slip away more and more.

“Yes, your brothers! I understand this is what they wanted to see,” Diavolo replied, his fingers attacking Lucifer’s sides with frantic enthusiasm. When this didn’t give him the reaction he desired, the rapidly wiggling digits moved up higher and prodded against Lucifer’s lower ribs.

Diavolo's fingers rubbed the right spot over Lucifer's lower ribs, the sensation making him spasm heavily before soft, embarrassing giggles started to pour out of his mouth.

"Oh, well done, Young Master," Barbatos said and Lucifer tried to compose himself, but he was giggling already and he knew he couldn't stop now. The dam was broken.

"S-Stohohop im-immehehehediately!" Lucifer giggled, closing his eyes and feeling his cheeks burning as he got a hold of Diavolo's wrists. "I s-swehehear I wo-ahahaha!"

Lucifer kicked his legs as he felt Barbatos' hand creeping up his thighs from his knee, squeezing at the flesh near his inner thighs.

His giggling surely turned a bit more frantic and Barbatos chuckled. "Do not forget, My Lord, that Lucifer has an extremely ticklish lower body."

Lucifer growled and he felt embarrassed, exposed, humiliated by the fact that Barbatos knew this information about him. He hated how observant he wa-

"What? Right here?" Diavolo asked and Lucifer threw his head back with loud laughter as Diavolo's fingers suddenly vibrated against his lower belly. He bucked forward in an instant reflex, dropping against Diavolo who carefully steadied him with a hand on his shoulder while his fingers continued to knead the taut flesh of his lower belly.

“Diahah-a-Ahh Bahaharbatos nohoho!” Lucifer whined shamefully as he squirmed against Diavolo and Barbatos picked up his leg so he could squeeze all around his knee, including the back of it. Lucifer simply lay squeezed in between them, writhing and giggling uncontrollably. He felt his ticklishly assaulted stomach flutter even more from the inside when he heard the two men chuckle charmingly.

“I have not seen Lucifer enjoy himself this much in a while,” Diavolo said fondly. His hand that held Lucifer’s shoulder moved down and playfully squeezed Lucifer’s lower side, making him arch back again, gasping loudly.

“Eehehehehe y-you two are so- aahaha!”

Barbatos chuckled, "What, so you are not denying it, Lucifer? Are you enjoying yourself?"

Wanting to sound intimidating, Lucifer growled, but uncontrollable giggles filtered in as Barbatos moved his nimble fingers from Lucifer's knee, squeezing their way up to his inner thigh.

"Cuhuhuhurses! Stahahahap!" Lucifer threw his head back against Diavolo's shoulder, quickly turning it to the side to avoid that ridiculous gentle look he always gave him when Lucifer laughed so carefreely like this.

"He is still not denying it," Diavolo teased, clawing at Lucifer's lower stomach with one hand and tickling his lower side with the other, his thumb gently pressing against a pressure point on Lucifer's side that positively made him cackle and arch his back.

This was so humiliating! He couldn't stop his laughter and they kept finding and abusing sensitive spots that made him jerk and shriek and the worst part that he was not… totally hating this.

“Ahahah! Nohoho - ughheheehhe…” From wording various protests, Lucifer felt himself slowly calm down until he was merely squirming against Diavolo and giggling and laughing breathlessly. Once in a while he would mutter a soft “S-stohohop!” but strangely he kind of found acceptance in the fact that these two were going to tickle him until they were pleased.

By the time they were, Lucifer was breathing heavily, still chuckling and giggling a little. “A-are you done?” he asked, wheezing tiredly. The two men chuckled as well.

“Yes, Lucifer. We are done,” Barbatos said, finally sitting back and going back to enjoying the macaroons.

“That was fun! It was fun right, Lucifer?” Diavolo said, and Lucifer wasn’t quick enough to snap back, blushing slightly and his lips moving wordlessly.

“He is still not denying it. My guess is, he thinks so too,” Barbatos said, nodding with this satisfied look on his face. Lucifer tried to glare, but found himself failing to.

“You two are going to be the death of me,” he muttered, still short of breath, but he couldn’t fight the urge to smile again.

Lucifer shifted until he was resting against the back of his sofa instead of Diavolo's body, and as he cleared his throat, Barbatos gave him a refilled cup of tea. Lucifer mumbled a soft 'thank you' and his hands shook as he grabbed the cup.

Barbatos couldn't help but chuckle and Lucifer glared, a smirk pulling at his lips. "Are you sure you'll keep eating those?" He pointed at the macarons with a move of his chin. "You're going to get... soft," he teased and Barbatos raised an eyebrow.

"What? Soft like this?" He asked and Lucifer gasped when his cup disappeared from his hands before Barbatos' fingers clawed at his upper thigh. "Did you eat many macarons, Lucifer?"

"Ahahahare- are y-you cahahahalling me f-fahahat?!!" He squeaked, kicking his leg and pushing at Barbatos' hand.

The butler stopped and he basically swallowed a fifth macaron as Diavolo laughed at the scene, giving Lucifer his cup back.

"Ah, but it's a shame you don't want your brothers to see you laughing like that, Lucifer," Diavolo said, smiling brightly at Lucifer. "You look so beautiful laughing so carefree!"

Lucifer's cheeks flushed again and he let out a sigh, covering his eyes with one hand. "I told you to stop with the compliments, Diavolo."

"Doesn't Lucifer look absolutely beautiful when he laughs, Barbatos?"

Barbatos hummed, nodding his head as he drank a bit of tea. "Really beautiful, his brothers would probably be mesmerized… or scared?"

Lucifer snorted. "I don't wish my brothers to see me like this. They wouldn't let me live."

"Oh! So it's okay if we do it?" Diavolo asked and Lucifer swore he saw a tail wagging behind him.

He opened his mouth to say something back, but no words came out and instead, his cheeks turned red again.

"He didn't deny it," Diavolo said and Barbatos chuckled. "He did not, My Lord. Then, I guess that is a yes."

Lucifer cleared his throat, and closing his eyes, he drank more tea, trying to hide a smile behind his cup. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Yes. Only these two demons could ever have the chance to do something as humiliating as tickling him, after all, he also had a free pass to get a little revenge on them.

[nillegible]

(Part 3 of Stay, the MY time travel fic. Read Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 )

It’s several more weeks before he meets Qin Su again, and it’s like having a sword shoved through his gut a second time.

He thought he’d gotten over her death in the weeks since, but apparently not.

Meng Yao’s skills at administrative work, honed to perfection over years of managing Jin sect, had resulted in a series of rapid promotions, as more and more people realized that Meng Yao was not only capable but willing to do boring meticulous drudge work and do it well. By the time Qin Su returns from her mother’s small, secluded clan, Clan Liu, Meng Yao is one of Qin Cangye’s personal aides.

He keeps his face when she thanks him for saving her life just barely. It’s so hard, when she looks so young and carefree, untouched by the grief for a lost child, of a secretive husband who never turned to her.

Meng Yao had done that to her.

I didn’t have a choice, he’d cried to Er-ge, in a temple and felt justified. In front of her sweet face, that defence dies a quiet death.

She’d killed herself, when she heard the truth, and for one moment, in between the grief, the rising terror of an unknown enemy stalking him, he’d hated her for it. Do you think you have suffered more than I? How dare you take your own life, while I still didn’t give up?

But he owes her better than that, so he smiles, and promises the Young Mistress Qin that it was Meng Yao who was honoured to have been of assistance to her. He remains perfectly cordial, always, in her presence. He doesn’t hide away, doesn’t take paths around the buildings that she frequents, even though every time he sees her again, it hurts.

This pain, at least, Meng Yao deserves.

He’s careful not to get too close though. He makes his excuses not to join her where he can, and never shows her the attention he had in a previous life. He didn’t expect this to be noticed, but as he’s learned the hard way, some eyes are always sharper than Meng Yao would give them credit for.

*

When Qin Tianyu approaches him for tea and a discussion of the talismans that Meng Yao has been reworking to be more efficient, he thinks nothing of it. When they’re working on writing some together after, and the talisman master carefully broaches the topic as if it wasn’t intentional, Meng Yao can see the Sect Leader’s interest in the matter.

“Meng Yao has been noticeably cold to Su-sizhi,” says Qin Tianyu.

Meng Yao looks up, sharply. “I have no quarrel with Qin-guniang.” How did I miss this?

“I said cold, not a quarrel,” he returns calmly. “She is the only one you do not call shijie.”

“She’s the heir, it’s polite, Qin-shishu,” Meng Yao says, even though he knows it’s not good enough. Everyone else calls her Su-shijie, quite enthusiastically. He endures the carefully considering look that Qin Tianyu sends his way. His mask had held up beneath Wen Ruohan, Nie Mingjue, Jin Guangshan, and Lan Xichen. He would not be unmasked by the a simple elder of Laoling Qin.

But Qin Tianyu just nods, as if confirming something to himself. “The idea was floated that Meng Yao joined Qin sect for Su-sizhi.” he says, and Meng Yao freezes, wary. “After all, Sect Leader Jin does not need another spare heir.”

Meng Yao sits in silence, work ignored as he tries to decide on a response. He had briefly considered before approaching Sect Leader Qin that it may look like this from outside, but had reasoned to himself that as long as he showed no interest in Qin Su, it would blow over, and he’d look like any other disciple. That people would find it suspicious that Meng Yao was not angling to marry her to become the next Qin Sect Leader is a surprise.

So, what should he say to turn this suspicion astray?

“This humble disciple is merely Sect Leader Jin’s bastard son. Young Mistress Qin deserves better,” he says, hoping that was vague enough to be acceptable.

“Meng Yao professes to be remarkably unambitious,” returns Qin Tianyu, lightly. Liar, he’s saying, even though for once Meng Yao isn’t actually lying. Qin Su did deserve better than what he’d given her. He’d loved her enough to know that. But unambitious people cannot do what Meng Yao did to keep his place at Wen Sect. Couldn’t remove the head of Wen Ruohan and end a war.

Unambitious people would not do all of that, just to become one of threw personal aides of a minor Clan Leader.

“Maybe I used it up,” says Meng Yao. From the way the elder glances up, he realizes that he had been silent long enough that he believed he wouldn’t get an answer. But Meng Yao has found his words, and there’s nothing to do but continue, “My mother wished to be a Jin concubine. She wanted me to do anything it takes to secure a place within Jin Sect. That it was the only way for me to live well.”

And she was wrong. She was as wrong about this as she was about Jin Guangshan. It had been a constant, grinding pain, to know again and again that the person he loved above all else had been so incredibly wrong. Meng Yao had thrown himself life and soul into trying to prove her right, into gaining his father’s regard and living well. He’d fought desperately, thinking that if only he gathered a little more influence, that if he did just a little bit more, then he’d succeed. Get the recognition his mother craved for him.

At some point, spite and fury had taken the place of love and duty, but he had not wavered in his goal. But he’d still never proved her right; had murdered his own father, and sat in mourning like a filial son, truly mourning how much he’d failed.

Nothing that he did could ever make up for it. This time, he knew better than to even try.

“It was my mother’s ambition,” he says aloud for the first time. Perhaps to a broken woman who did not even own herself, it had been liberating to imagine owning so much, to be in control of her own fate. “It was hers, but I…”

He falls silent, and after a few moments Qin Tianyu returns his attention to his paused work. For several minutes, he just watches the hypnotic way that the talisman master draws the same talisman again and again with the most minute of differences, to be tested and ranked according to efficacy.

“But you?” he prompts, when the stack is complete.

I want to live. That single, animalistic need, that had kept him alive through so much that would have killed others. I will not die here. Not now.

“I want to live,” says Meng Yao. And then continues, unable to stop, “I wanted her to live, too.” And when she didn’t, when illness wasted her away, taking her from him in pieces, unable to save her for want of something as immaterial as gold… something had broken in him.

Qin Tianyu nods, serene, as he gathers up the completed talismans. “Meng Yao would do well to think about why.”

Why?

You think your life is worth more than theirs? All the people you sacrificed, to live just a few years longer?

“Why shouldn’t I deserve to live?” asks Meng Yao, sharp. “Why shouldn’t we… why are our lives to be discarded at the whim of those stronger than us?”

“Silly child,” he says, “You have survived. You are alive. Now what?” Meng Yao just stares. “Perhaps Meng Yao should consider getting on with other things.”

Get on with what? Meng Yao had turned down Sect Leader Jin’s offer, had given up the name Jin Guangyao, just to escape the tragedies that that would precipitate.

But he was alive now. He was alive, and had time – perhaps even unmeasured time, so long as he stayed out of his father’s way. Perhaps he wouldn’t cultivate to near immortality, like those stronger than him, but he could live nearly a century more. Now what? Why are you alive?

It was so unlike him to not have a plan, but for once he hadn’t really. He didn’t…

“Meng Yao,” Qin Tianyu snaps, and when Meng Yao looks up, he’s leaning forward over the table, hand out and hovering over Meng Yao’s wrist.

“Master Qin?” asks Meng Yao, but rather than answer, the elder gently touches his fingertips to Meng Yao’s wrist. The pressure of foreign qi is familiar; light and diagnostic, before it withdraws.

“This old teacher apologizes,” he says, when he’s done. “I did not mean to cause you distress.”

“Not at all, this martial nephew is glad for his elder’s guidance,” says Meng Yao, taking his hand back and holding it to his chest. “I will meditate on how to prove myself more useful to Qin sect in the future.”

“Meng Yao, you misunderstand. No, rather, it was this master who misspoke. I did not mean to imply that you must prove yourself.”

“I understand,” says Meng Yao, after a beat. Spoken aloud, it must have sounded more cruel than he wished. But that was still what he meant.

There is no resolution after that. Qin Tianyu seems unable or unwilling to explain better, though he clearly thinks about it for a while. Finally, he dismisses Meng Yao, who leaves with the talismans. The lingering unease of a conversation that went poorly is left to fester in the room, while Meng Yao retreats to the disciple quarters immediately.

He resolves to work harder.

[AN: What do you think? Too OOC? I'm hoping to give MY a proper and slow redemption story, but it’s a toss up whether it’s going well or not. Thannk you for reading, please drop a comment in the replies if you have writing advice! I’ll be so grateful!]

[Click here for part 4!]

[thewritingginger]

Birthday Surprise

Word count: 1850

Pairing: Satan x Fem! Reader

Warning(s): Fluff, Pet Name (Kitten)

A/N: This isn’t technically a Halloween prompt but it does have some elements to it. But either way it’s one of my babes Birthday so I write.  And it’s in October so ... 🎊 And this is my 100th post on this blog!  🎊

Enjoy ~

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Sighing in relief, you stand back. Looking up at your work of hanging the birthday banner - that took way too long to put up-. The black and orange letters still slightly crooked, you wave your hand dismissively at the finicky paper. ‘Whatever. He’s just gonna have to deal with a wonky banner!’ You think to yourself as you make sure the table has everything it needs.

On the round table in the kitchen rests a small square cake you had made. Frosted in jet black, contrasted with green lettering scrolling “Happy Birthday Satan!” across the surface punctuated with a little messy heart. And last but not least, a couple small presents you have gotten him.

Happy with your work you go to sit down on a cozy chair by the fireplace. Enjoying the little human world cottage you and Satan decided to rent for a few months to get away for some quality time. It’s the perfect size for just the two of you. It has little kitchen and dining area, a quaint living space complete with a fireplace and bookshelves, a bathroom with a nice bathtub, and a bedroom with a comfy bed. Everything a young couple would need in a space. Your wondering thoughts are broken by the sound of heavy boot steps on the porch. ‘He’s here!’ You jump up from your cozy spot and dash to the door to greet him.

Standing to the side, he opens the door. A shiver travels down your spine as a gust of cold air invades your warm sanctuary.

“Happy Birthday!” You exclaim, having already said that the moment he woke up, he laughs. “Thank you, Kitten.”  Pulling you in by your waist, he places a soft yet passionate kiss upon your lips. Entranced by his touch, you look up at him warmly. You see him crack a smile once again but this time accompanied with a raised brow.

“What’s all this for?” He says confused, “Well cause it’s your birthday silly! Now come here.” You say, excitedly guiding him by his hand over to the little party area. Plopping him in one of the wooden chairs at the table he looks at the cake and laughs a bit. “What are you laughing at?” you ask playfully-stern. Making him chuckle more, “It’s nothing I’m just admiring the cake you made.” “Yeah, you better be.” your words punctuated with a soft flick of your fingers to his head. Your actions cause him to grab your wrist at lightning speed, gently pulling you down to hover over his back. “Watch it.” He warns with a chased kiss to your cheek. You giggle as you stand back up.

“Ok birthday boy, time for the festivities to begin!” Your words make him sigh an amused ‘oh, here we go.’ “Yes, here we go!” you announce as you bestow upon him a ridiculous sash that in bold letters writes, “B I R T H D A Y  B O Y”. “Oh, Y/~” cutting him off before he can convince you from putting him through this, you shush him. “Oh babyy, we haven’t even gotten to the best part yet.” you whine, giving him puppy eyes. He sighs once again, “Fine~” he shakes his head at how a little human like you can make him bend at your will. Giggling with joy you quickly kiss his cheek as you grab the gold plastic crown on the other side on the table. Placing it on his head, you stand back. Covering your mouth to contain your laughter. Knowing that if you laugh too hard he might just take it off. “Ya’ happy now?” he asks, trying to seem upset. Seeing through his act you walk over and sit on his lap. Kissing his lips like he did before, “Yes. Very!” you smile.

After about an hour of talking, you and Satan decided to begin making dinner. Taking off the stupid crown he began prepping the food as you worked on clearing the table. After fixing the table for dinner you went over to the living room to turn on some music. Soft jazzy notes begin flowing through the air, bringing a gentle sway to your walk. Sitting on the table is two glasses of wine Satan had poured for the both of you. He pulls out your chair a bit, “Why thank you kind sir.” You say with a slight accent. “The pleasure is all mine.” He chortles back. “Not that I’m complaining, but aren’t I supposed to be giving you special treatment?” you ask. “Well if you want, I can get up and let you pull my chair out for me.” He says cheekily as he takes a sip of his wine. “Ha ha, very funny.” You sass back crinkling your nose.  

Sitting on either side of the small table, the lights are dimmed, jazz playing in a low hum. Enjoying conversation over a pasta dinner, everything is great. But the night isn’t over yet.

“So how about we do cake and then presents.” You say cheerfully. He responds with a soft chuckle. After cleaning up the mess from dinner, you plant Satan back into his chair as you go to light the candles. Once lit, you turn around, cake in hand as you begin to sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to him. All he can do is just smile at you and your human traditions you bring him into. 

“🎶Happy Birthday to yooou.🎶 Ok now make a wish!” You cheer. He blows out the candles as you clap, “Yay. Now time for your presents!”

Satan can’t help but notice how you’ve been very energetic and excitable through out the evening. “Why are you so quick to do everything? You know you don't have to jump around for me.” He leans back in his chair, amused. “What, your girlfriend can’t be excited and want to give you a good birthday?” You retort. “Ok, fine. Go ahead and jump around for me then.” He laughs.

The cake pushed to the side, you place the 3 small, cutely wrapped presents in front of Satan. Sitting next to him, chin resting in your palm you obverse him as he begins to unwrap his gifts.

After all have been unwrapped, a small pile of paper on the floor. In front of him lies an Incantation book he has had his eye on for a while, a few nice bookmarks and a bag of his favorite human world coffee. “Thank you so much for all of this Kitten, even though it was unnecessary.” He says as he leans over to kiss you. “Nonsense, I wanted to get you these.” Getting up to throw away the wrapping paper scraps, you turn around as if you just remembered something. “Oh, I almost forgot. I have one more gift for you.” You say as you dash away. Before Satan can respond you were already going up the stairs.

You return with a little black present box with a emerald green ribbon tied in a nice bow. Standing next to him you place it in front of him. Eagerly waiting for him to open it, he gives you a suspicious look. “Should I be nervous to open this?” He asks jokingly, causing you to swat his shoulder. “Ok, ok.” He laughs. Pulling the tail of the ribbon, undoing the bow. He opens the box and pulls out a little orange onesie with a jack-o’-lantern face printed on it. Satan is puzzled for a moment till a thought hits him in the face..

Looking up at you, then to the fabric in his hand, then back to you. “Ar- are you pregnant?” He asks, stunned. “Yeah…” you say with a shy smile.

He just sits there. Silently. Just staring at you. Only making you more anxious as you bite your lips.

“Hmm” He hums. Sitting back, arms crossed.  “I thought you smelled different.” His words nonchalant. You finally burst. “What do you mean, ‘I thought you smelled different’?” You ask. “That’s all you have to say?” Looking at him surprised, unsure if maybe the situation hadn’t fully sunk in for him.

“Well yeah, for the last month or so your smell had changed a bit but I didn’t put much thought into it.”  “So... you’re not mad?” You ask, testing the waters. His gaze softens a bit. Realizing what you’ve been feeling in the moments leading up to this. Turning his chair to face you, he pulls you closer to him by your waist. Hands resting on your hips. Looking up at you he speaks, “Y/n, why would you think I'd be mad?” His brows furrowed. You sigh. “Well because this wasn’t planned. And I mean we have talked about kids once, but I wasn’t sure how you would react.” Your honesty makes him think for a moment. “True, we have only talked about it once, and yes this certainly wasn’t planned. But if you remember in that conversation, I told you that you were the only woman I’ve seen myself having children with.” Hearing him say those words again makes your heart flutter the same it did that day.

His eyes travel down your body, landing on your tummy. “And besides when we first met, I never expected you would change my life the way you did. It’s only fitting that this would be a surprise as well.” He says, lightly caressing your sides.

Combing your fingers through his blonde locks, you can’t help but let out a small laugh. “I guess you’re right, but now what? I mean has a human and a demon ever done this?” You ask.

“Well It is possible that it has happened once before but I haven’t read anything too in depth about human-demon relationships.” He says.

Standing up, Satan looks down at you. His eyes warm, lips beginning to curve slightly. Bringing a large hand to rake through your hair, resting it on your cheek. Turning your sight up to his. He speaks again, “But whether or not this has been seen before is irrelevant. It’s happening now and I’m sure it’ll be fine. Now, I can’t promise that it will be easy but what I can promise you is that I will be here for you every step of the way. And not just you...” He says, gazing down at your gifted womb. 

“I promise to be there for you too.” 

 His words, almost a whisper like they weren’t yours to hear. You smile at the demon's gentleness. His loving eyes returning the favor, basking you in a calming warmth. Reassuring you that everything will be fine with him by your side.

“Why don’t we cut your cake now.” you state with a smile. “I see the pregnancy cravings are already in full swing.” You swat him at his joking words. “Watch it.” you playfully say as you begin to cut the cake. Wrapping his strong arms around your waist, his hands resting on your belly. “As I suspected, this is going to be fun.” his words punctuated with a soft kiss on your shoulder.

Yes it will be.

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AHH I hope you enjoyed this! 

I knew I want to write a little something for is birthday and I am really soft for Daddy Satan and I hope you are too :3 

But who doesn’t love soft dad AUs!?!? 

(P.S. I was tired while editing this so forgive me for any odd occurrences  😅)

💛 ~

[lutbys]

Christmas Party

Day 1 of Christmas at Hogwarts:

1st – You and Draco are sworn enemies. Always have, always will. But an evening spent decorating the Slytherin common room has got you both rethinking your choices.

a/n: MY DUMB ASS! I woke up this morning to no notifications for day one and i was lowkey sad bc I thought no one like it but when I checked again, I POSTED IT PRIVATELY UGHHGUGG *biggest facepalm of the century. No, at this point I've smashed my head against the wall* So I guess its on the 2nd of December then hHHHH I’m truly sorry for my dumbmity.

Draco Malfoy x Slytherin reader

“You want me to do this all by myself!” you gawked at the boxes upon boxes of Christmas decorations Pansy dug up for tonight. “And how do you expect this to look good?”

“That’s where you come in silly! I’ve seen your decorating skills back home and its impressive. That’s why you’re our party decorator” Pansy replied, gleaming at the shiny tinsel and the mountain of fairy lights. Who knew there was enough space in this dungeon to store such cheerful items?

“But I didn’t agree to this stupid party in the first place!”

“Typical of y/n to back out at the last minute. What next? You didn’t plan on getting married so why host a wedding?” you hear Draco scoff as he descended down the stairs that lead to the dorms, his arms tucked into each other and his face disgruntled just like how he would every time he caught sight of you.

“Shut it Malfoy. I don’t see you being of much help either.” To that he only scoffed and turned his back to join in on a conversation with Blaise.

It wasn’t rocket science for anybody to realize you and Draco were never on the same page. Its been like this since the first year, from the awful hair pulling to sabotaging each other’s cauldrons during potions class. You never knew why but when you first caught sight of the boy, you’d knew you’d hate him.

“Now that the venue is all settled, Nott, Zabini and I are going to Hogsmeade for the snacks. Draco you coming?” Pansy ticked off errands from her endless to do list, her eyes racking through the list multiple times like the perfectionist she is.

“Waste my time walking around? No thank you.”

“Then its settled, Draco you can help y/n doll this place up. The faster, the better.” Before he could utter an excuse, the busy girl had pushed the two other boys away and exited the common room.

You stood in awe at the situation your best friend put you in. The two of you stood dumbfoundedly among the boxes as you raked your brain on how you were going to turn this musty dungeon into a welcoming hall.

“I suggest we throw all this shit out and call it a day.” Draco grunted, kicking a box of ornaments till it toppled and you watched as three glittery green globes fall and break into little pieces. “Unlike you, I actually have important things to do.”

“Like what? Being a git? Who do you think is going to clean that up Draco?” You bit back, pointing to the scatter of broken glass that once used to be delicate trinkets. 

“you know what? I’ve had enough of you for today. I’m going to decorate this part of the room” You gestured your hands around the fireplace “And you can decorate all the way over there”

With a dramatic roll of his eyes, Draco agreed and moved over to the tables along with his pick of decorative items.

-

You’ve been staring at the fireplace for longer than you wished but your mind is blank. Completely blank. And you dreaded to turn and see how much Draco has done because all you’ve been hearing for the past half hour are the crinkles of the tinsel and his frustrated moans whenever the wrapping paper didn’t fold the way he wanted it to.

Your eyes shifted from box to box as you tried to come up with something creative. Sure, your living room back at home would look extravagant to guests but that was all mom’s doing, all you had to do was help put them up. 

-

It was the absence of the gold chain that once perched itself on top of the dodgy Santa stuffy that caught your attention.

I swear I saw it a moment ago

You were also wondering why the gold star for the tree was missing too! After rummaging through the countless number of boxes, there was only one other person you could think of to have stolen it.

“Oi Malfoy! Next time you take something from my side, ask!” You rolled your eyes at his obliviousness.

“Why would I want things from your side? Mine looks better to begin with.” “Then where did the star for the Christmas tree go?” your confusion grew as he mirrored your expression. What is happening?

Just then, you caught sight of a little dark grey blob running across the room, its little feet making little to no noise against the carpeted floors. You and Draco turned to each other with wide eyes, Care of Magical Creatures taught you well enough to identify it as a Niffler, the little rodent who steals.

“What the hell are we going to do?” you whisper-shouted, eyeing the single seated sofa you last saw it run by.

“Its your problem y/l/n. I’m not touching that thing.” 

“Don’t be daft Malfoy, if we don’t catch it, your stupid watch will be next!” Draco scoffed at your exaggeration, but his reaction quickly dimmed as he fingered his wrist at where his fathers watch used to be.

“My watch! You jinxed it you little minx.” 

“See! If we don’t catch it now who knows what will be nex- Hey!” you watched the sly critter reach out for the string of tinsel on the floor, barely grabbing hold before going back into hiding.

Your feet worked faster than your brain as you lurched towards the sofa, trying to grab hold of its little tail but to no avail, it was faster. “Draco look out! He’s coming your way!” 

Before it could dodge the white-haired boy, Draco had caught it swiftly. The poor creature tried to wriggle himself to escape, but Draco’s grip was stronger. “Hagrid’s right. It does feel funny.” His face grimaced at the sight of the thing, its flat beak and teeny arms was not sitting right for him.

“From what I remember, all you have to do is hold it by its hind legs and shake it.” You watched him follow your instructions and everything instantly fell out of its pocket. From coins to a small piece of confetti, it rained gold. You laughed in bewilderment at the sight in front of you. Sure, you’ve learned anything and everything about these magical creatures but having the opportunity to see one in real life was quite a scene to remember. It seemed Draco too was amused with the sight.

“What a cheeky little rat! Look at all he’s stolen.” Draco said after trapping the Niffler in a nearby crate. “I don’t think this is the only house he visited.” He held out a gold Gryffindor badge that once belonged to a prefect.

“That was pretty impressive. Never seen one in my life!” your hand raked through the lost knick-knacks like it was a treasure chest. “I’m going to put this back, Pansy should be back anytime now and I know she’d freak if she came back to this mess.”

Draco too took the liberty of scooping from the pile and just then, your hands touched. You couldn’t tell if it was the adrenaline of having seen a Niffler or never have had contact with Draco, but it felt different. Almost, nice. 

It was when you looked up when you realized how close you both were to each other, close enough that your breaths mingled, close enough that if your lips were to touch-

“We’re back and we’re ready for the biggest party yet!” Pansy excitement boomed from the picture frame they entered through; her hands filled with bags from Honeydukes. 

Like acid being poured over, you both pulled away instantaneously. “What the hell happened in here!” The once happy girl’s smile went agape when she saw the mess beyond her. The chairs were toppled, the lights that were supposed to be on the walls were scattered on the floor, and a suspicious looking crate was moving on its own.

“We had a bit of a Niffler situation” you scratched the back of your neck guiltily, you had failed the one task you were given, and miserably at that. “But it’s okay! I promise you I will fix all of it.” Your words seemed to encourage her, knowing her trust on you was strong.

“You have an hour and an HOUR only.”

-

“The most memorable party of the year!”

“This beats Gryffindor’s for sure” 

You rolled your eyes at the cocky compliments thrown around, knowing well enough it all came from your group of friends. You didn’t know how, but you miraculously made this place lively with the time given. Having your friends entertain you whilst at it added bonus points. Now, you awed at how the lights made the room glow and the green, black and white banners hung proudly by the fireplace.

But one thing kept running through your mind as the party went on in full swing.

Draco.

You couldn’t get this afternoons incident out of your head. You never noticed how his eyes were so mesmerizing and his scent so intoxicating that you would have all your clothes doused to smell like it. 

And he couldn’t get you out of his head too.

Draco stood lonely near the staircases, having no mood to mingle as he was knackered from the days events. But it was also an excuse to think over things when it came to you. He rewinded the scene over and over again, wondering what would happen it the moment never stopped, if Pansy wouldn’t have opened her loud mouth and disturbed them.

You both parted -quickly at that- as soon as the group came back, not daring to look into each others eyes for the rest of the evening.

But here you were, searching through the crowds for the one pair of eyes that had made your heart stop.

And you found them.

Staring straight back.

[howtowhumpyourhiccup]

Febuwhump Day 2 - Scream

Summary: Written for Febuwhump Day 2. Set in RttE. Before deciding to make Hiccup talk about the Dragon Eye lenses, Krogan chooses to make him scream instead.

Warning: /

Rating: Mature

Characters: Hiccup, Toothless, Stoick, Krogan

Pairing: /

Words: 3 254

Fandom: How to Train Your Dragon

Prompt: “I can’t take this anymore”

Whumpee: Hiccup

Author’s Notes: Lost a little bit of steam halfway through proofreading this thing and then towards the end. Didn't quite know how to end it either.

Constructive criticism is appreciated.

Enjoy!

Ao3

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

Hiccup is no stranger to torture. It's a sad thing to acknowledge, but he isn't. So when he's captured by Krogan and Johann, that is what he expects, and he's prepared for whatever these two plan on throwing at him.

Or that is what he thought when he was brought to this room and strapped to this chair. Because it isn't a beating that they give him, they don't whip him or hold his head underwater. Instead, they put him through something he could never have prepared for.

Tied to a chair, his everything hurts. He's bruised all over, his nose is bloody, but so far, it's nothing he hasn't suffered through before in any other scuffle or battle he's been in before. The strangest part is that his current injuries are mostly caused by the crash that resulted in his capture, including the possibly broken wrist.

A little suspicious as Krogan loves squeezing every little bit of fun he can out of every chance he gets to torture someone, especially when that someone is someone he has a particular dislike for.

Sniffing and smelling a mostly metallic tang in his nostrils from the blood, Hiccup flexes his fingers curiously, not quite as able to on one hand. They haven't been dislocated or broken, his ribs are fine, besides those bruises. He's just fine and that is a worrying thing.

His prosthetic isn't even missing and his tunic and armor, everything is still in place.

What are they planning on doing to him to get him to talk? Do they have some sort of ace up their sleeve?

But he shouldn't jump to conclusions. Doing so will only result in him stressing himself out for nothing. Who knows, maybe his friends are keeping them busy and that's why no one, but the guards right outside of this room are here and he's fine.

Wouldn't he hear the sounds of battle if they were, though?

No, again, he shouldn't worry.

But then, there are footsteps and Krogan enters. He looks just as pleased with himself as he always does, his hands together behind his back.

Hiccup doesn't like it, because this means that he might've brought that little surprise with him.

He wants to stress, can't help his worrying, but all he can do is the one thing he can do whenever he's captured.

"Finally, a visitor! I would've rather had Viggo because he's more interesting to talk to, but I guess you'll have to do." He used to be scared of Viggo, of what that man wanted him from and was willing to do to him, but ever since the destruction of his empire, he's somehow different.

He almost seems... less likely to hurt him. Hiccup isn't sure how much he can rely on this character growth, but maybe it's better than spending his time with Krogan.

"Even when you're captured, you will not stop running your mouth, will you?" Krogan asks, standing before Hiccup with an air that is at least a little less amused than when he came in.

"Not likely," Hiccup tells him. He plans on keeping the sass going for however long he's still able.

Krogan hums, just sigh of sighing deeply. Does Hiccup know how annoying he is?

"No matter, I have my ways of silencing your sarcasm." Upon saying this, he removes his hands from his back and shows what he's been hiding. It appears to be an opaque bottle of some kind.

Hiccup leans forward as if it'll help him look through the bottle to see the contents inside. He may not know what it is, but he can tell it's nothing good. He sits back and eyes it warily.

"Any guessed to what this could possibly be?" Krogan asks, but Hiccup simply stares at him, not answering.

And then.

"Do you want to find out?"

"I'd prefer not to actually." But Krogan isn't about to listen to Hiccup and he uncorks the bottle.

Grabbing him by his possibly broken nose, he forces him to open his mouth if he wants to breathe, to then dump the contents of it in his mouth. Dropping the bottle and still pinching his nose closed, Krogan covers his mouth next and Hiccup has little other choice but to swallow it.

Only once he's sure that Hiccup has swallowed does Krogan let go and Hiccup can finally breathe again. He coughs, his lungs attempting to draw in as much air as they can at the same time.

What was in that bottle? It tasted horrendous.

"Want to make a guess before it sets in?" Krogan asks, grabbing the nearest stool he can find and sitting down in front of Hiccup. This is something he wants to see up close.

Another concerning thing. Hiccup, in response, tries to lean away from Krogan as far back as he can, which isn't very far at all.

"No, no guesses." Besides, Hiccup has a feeling he's about to find out soon. Krogan specifically used the words "sets in". Is it poison? If so, will he survive? They need him for information, so surely, they won't just kill him?

Is it just because he's stressing out over this that he suddenly feels a little warm? Or is he coming down with something?

It worsens and it does so quickly. Hiccup begins to pant as he feels his temperature rise dramatically.

He looks around him, but there is no fire in here. So where's the heat coming from? Is it really coming from within him? Is it even heat? No, it begins to feel different, like electricity tingling underneath his skin, like lightning.

No. No wait, it's different again. It's turning into a burning sensation, like something inside of him is heating up, becoming warmer and warmer. He can't help but sweat, his body attempting to cool itself down, but it doesn't help. All sweating does is make him feel even more uncomfortable than he did before.

Something is burning up inside of him. Something is boiling. His blood... His blood feels like it's beginning to boil inside his vein, spreading the fire from his center to the very tips of his fingers and toes.

Within seconds, it's everywhere.

"It's... It's Triple Stryke venom." Hiccup recognizes the sensations and states, swallowing.

Krogan smiles in satisfaction.

"Can you tell which one?" He asks next, happy to see the effects take hold so quickly, but then, he did give him a good dose.

Hiccup is already flushing red, already panting, and attempting to control his breathing when it wants to become faster and faster, his heart palpitating inside his chest. The boiling of his blood grows more intense.

"The-the painful one." He gasps and it's all he manages to say. It's not its scientific term, but he can't even remember what it is. All he thinks is "pain".

He begins to shake in his chair, the symptoms of the venom unpleasant, but not wanting to show how much of an effect it already has on him.

But Triple Stryke venom isn't known for being slow and the symptoms intensify with such speed that Hiccup wants to panic.

No, he can't let it get to him, that's what Krogan wants. He wants to see him cry and scream.

He's sitting opposite to him, smiling expectantly as he watches the panic take hold despite Hiccup's best efforts to keep a level head.

He's trying to hold on.

A shaky moan breaks free and Krogan's sadistic expression grows deeper, satisfied with such quick and pleasing results. Oh, he can already tell how much he's going to enjoy this.

"I'd ask you about the Dragon Eye lenses, but Johann implied that we should let you suffer first and I was not about to disobey an order, was I?" Krogan says and, of course, he wasn't going to disobey that order.

Hiccup can already imagine the way he must've gleamed when Johann implied that Krogan could go ahead and torture him before asking questions. Compared to Viggo, Krogan takes more after Ryker in smarts, but his cruelty is without a doubt unparalleled.

Hiccup is experiencing first-hand how cruel he is. Krogan could've done anything to him, beat him, break his bones, cut him, whip him, instead he's making him feel like he's being boiled alive. And because he won't be dying, the pain will continue for however long Krogan sees fit.

Tears grow in his eyes and he wonders how long the dose given to him will last. An hour? Two? Three? How many?!

"The antidote. Krogan, please?" Hiccup doesn't like to beg, his pride doesn't allow it, but as the pain intensifies and the tears glide down his face, it's becoming harder and harder to hold on.

Oh, it hurts so bad. It hurts so, so bad and it hurts everywhere.

"Oh, that silly thing? I don't happen to have it on me." Krogan replies nonchalantly because, of course, he doesn't. And he doesn't intend to go get it either, if they even have it. He is much too content to watch Hiccup suffer and writhe.

His blood continues to boil, new surges of pain course through his veins, traveling through every little part of his body from his head to his toes.

And then he can no longer stop himself. He screams and Krogan's smile breaks out into a smirk. That sounds like music to his ears.

How much time passes between his first scream and now? Everything is a blur, the concept of time slips from his grasp, but it feels like hours have passed and Hiccup is still screaming.

His face a deep red, streaks of tears and snot on his face, and his voice is hoarse. Still, the pain draws more shrieks out of him and it might give up on him any minute now. And the excruciating sensation of boiling alive, it's still going strong.

Hiccup doesn't know the amount he's been forced to ingest and at the current time he's not in the right mindset to think about it either. His every nerve screams with him and Krogan enjoys it too much.

He hasn't moved from that chair, still smiling fondly at Hiccup's display of pain.

"I was going to ask you what you knew about the Dragon-Eye lenses, but it would seem that you're a little preoccupied." Going back on what he said earlier, he speaks to him again. If Hiccup even hears him over his own yelling, Krogan doesn't know and he doesn't care.

"Oh please!" Somehow, with a voice so tired and strained, words are still possible.

"Please, I can't take this anymore!" Hiccup begs him, writhing and squirming and finding no relief anywhere. The ropes are digging into him and he's starting to wonder if it isn't possible that his skin might be peeling and his flesh might be slipping from his bones. It certainly does feel that way, yet it never happens.

And he can see now why they left his clothing on his person. His woolen tunic scratches and itches his sensitive skin and his armor weighs heavily on him.

"Krogan, please!" But Krogan doesn't move from his spot. His rear is feeling a little numb from the sitting, but he doesn't mind.

"Krogan! I can't- Please, I can't!" He cries and he begs. How much longer until the pain subsides? His throat hurts and he can't stop screaming.

But then completely out of nowhere, Krogan stands up and leaves with anger on his face.

Does he suddenly have enough of Hiccup's suffering? Is he no longer a joyful sight to him?

With the assault on his senses, body, and mind, Hiccup misses the explosion rocking the cave system the Flyers and Hunters are using.

The Dragon Riders are here and not a moment too soon.

"No! No, don't go! Please!" Hiccup begs him to stay, the only one who he believes can take this pain away from him.

But Krogan walks away without looking back once, leaving him behind.

"Krogan! Please! I can't take this anymore!" He wails, pulling at his unforgiving restraints as if to chase after him.

Oh Gods, he's leaving him! He's going to die now, isn't he? He's not as fun to watch anymore because he's about to die, that has to be why Krogan left.

Hiccup continues to howl Krogan's name, begging him to come back and bring an end to his misery. He no longer cares how it ends, so long as it ends!

And then suddenly, his screaming stops.

His blood still boils, that hasn't gone away, but his voice has. Maybe it really has been hours and his vocal cords have finally given up on him. If so, how much longer will this torture go on?

At least with his screams now soundless, a mere pitiful wheezing, he can hear the rumblings of a battle raging outside. Though still going mad with agony, he knows now that the Dragon Riders are coming for him.

Where are they? When are they coming? The battle outside stretches on endlessly.

Eventually, even his silent screaming comes to an end and it's not because the torment has ended.

After however long he's been in this chair, it's almost like he's shutting down. His struggling has stopped, his tears merely fall with every blink, he shivers, and stares ahead.

The explosions and shouting outside continues, but a new sound just barely registers in his ears. Footsteps come running his way and there's more than one.

Opening his eyes, he can't remember closing them, Hiccup sees a dark shape coming in from the hallway through a blurry gaze.

"Toothless?" He mouths silently.

It is his dragon. Within an instant, he's in front of him and his dry and scale nose nuzzles his face. It hurts so bad and Hiccup turns his head away.

That puzzles the dragon, who realizes very quickly that something is wrong.

"Son!" To Hiccup's surprise, his dad is here as well and he lays a heavy hand on his shoulder.

Hiccup no longers writhes and screams, but at the strange expression he's wearing, Stoick can still tell that something is off. Is he tired? In pain? Now if only he would realize he's the one doing the hurting.

"What's wrong, Hiccup? Where does it hurt?" His father asks, grabbing his other shoulder as well, which he doesn't take kindly to either.

"Everywhere!" Hiccup croaks out inaudibly, going unheard by his dad.

At the very least, Stoick manages to figure out why the screaming he'd heard upon first entering this confusing cave system suddenly stopped. Hiccup lost his voice and Stoick can only imagine for how long he must've been screaming for that to happen.

But Toothless perks up, the only one still able to hear his Rider, and bites down with his gums on Stoick's arm to pull the limb away.

On any other day, he would've given the dragon a look, but fortunately, he understands what Toothless is trying to do.

"Oh Gods, I'm so sorry, son." He apologizes when he realizes he must've been hurting Hiccup somehow and he lets go. But whether Hiccup understood him is up for debate, his lost expression betrays little.

All that's left for him now is to stare listlessly in front of him, head slumped at an angle.

"Son? Hiccup?" Stoick tries to make him look at him, kneeling in front of him, but it's as if he's looking right through him.

Whatever mindset he's sinking deeper into to escape whatever's been done to him for hours, it's taking him far, far away.

He can see him fading away, it's almost like falling asleep without actually falling asleep.

What if this is a permanent thing? Great endless pain can do strange things to a person's mind and Stoick feels the much too familiar twinges of fear in his heart. Gothi needs to take a look at him.

Toothless can see it, too, and he whines at Stoick.

"I know, Toothless, we have to take him out of here." He agrees. He may still not be able to understand the Night Fury as well as his son does, but he understands that much, at least.

Assuming that Hiccup can no longer "be hurt", he takes this opportunity to undo his restraints.

Hiccup slowly looks over, but that's about the only reaction Stoick is getting out of him.

"Don't worry, Hiccup. We'll take you out of here soon enough. We'll make the pain go away." He promises, Toothless moaning in agreement and nuzzling his human's face again. Unlike moments earlier, he doesn't receive a response. Instead, Hiccup closes his eyes.

Once he's untied, Stoick cautiously lifts his light weight into his arms. They can meet with the Dragon Riders outside and head for Berk.

The Edge would be closer, but with Hiccup in the state that he's in, Stoick would rather go straight home and not wait two to four days for Gothi to be brought.

Hiccup stirs ever so slightly in his arms upon being moves, but whether he's unconscious or not, his father doesn't know. His head rests on his chest.

"Come, Toothless, we're leaving." He tells the Night Fury and they make their way out. The sooner they can meet with the rest, the sooner they can leave for home, the sooner Hiccup can be helped.

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It feels like his mind must've somehow turned itself off, because Hiccup doesn't remember leaving that chair or the long trip home. It's like he fell into a long sleep, just like he did after the battle with the Red Death when he lost his leg.

When he wakes up, he's on Berk. He can gather as much from seeing his room when he opens his eyes.

He's sitting in bed and Toothless is at the foot end of it. He appears to be resting, but he isn't asleep. Hiccup can tell, because when he moves just a tad, the dragon's eyes open and look at him.

Purring happily, the Night Fury comes closer as quietly as he can and he nuzzles Hiccup's face.

"Oh, Bud." He gasps, his skin still sensitive, but no longer as unbearably hot as before. He feels strange, but fine.

Hiccup smiles and pets his Bud on the nose, happy to be home and to be rid of the sensation of his blood boiling. It is such a relief.

But there is one more thing that draws his attention.

His hands scratching Toothless' chin, Hiccup looks behind him to see that he's sitting up in bed because it's his father he's lying against.

The man is asleep with his back and head leaning against the headboard and the wall behind it. There's a secure arm around his son to keep him close.

He must've been keeping watching over Hiccup while he slept along with Toothless. Hiccup doesn't remember being found, but evidently, something must've scared his father for him to keep this close of an eye on Hiccup.

This brings him a sense of nostalgia as the last time Hiccup was held like this, he was still a very, very young boy.

So Hiccup decides against waking the man up. He settles instead, choosing the safety of his father's hold over rising him.

Besides Krogan and the blinding pain, he doesn't remember much. But he hopes it's okay to stay like this for a little while longer before he eases Stoick's worries, sinking deeper into his father's hold with Toothless' head on his lap.

[pastellipanic]

Junkenstein's Legend

It isnt a secret that I like Overwatch. It isnt a secret that my favourite event is the Halloween event of Junkensteins revenge. It also isnt a secret that I get hyperfixated onto uncommon things or parts of things. So today, presented by my hyperfixating grey brainmatter, I bring you:

The Full Tale of Junkensteins Revenge

Or, you know, the The Full Tale of Junkensteins Revenge as Theorized by Pastelli During Sleepless Nights. Anyway, we shall start at the beginning!

(Everything in this story is theorized upon the tidbits of canon information from the game, the comics and details of skins, sprays and maps. You are entitled to disagree with my theorization and I will gladly take on any opposing theories if they are given to me with a constructive and positive vibe. I will also gladly have a chat with anyone who is interested in the subject or has ideas I hadnt considered. That being said, Enjoy!)

Chapter 1: The sad beginnings of a mad doctor and his first step onto the battlefield.

Doctor Jamison Junkenstein was a young lad who worked for the local Lord Reinhardt in a town of Adlersbrunn located in the outskirts of Black Forest. He was a brilliant mechanic, engineer and had no fear of working with electricity, hence he had gotten the job in the first place. While his social skills were limited and his fame in the town stained, he was a hard worker and a genius in his own field. At some point during his career, he got bored of the same old electricity and piping, and began to experiment in robotics. His first one was a crude little thing but he was proud of it, so he decided to continue on this path. He began to dream of building live automatons, creatures that could think and feel for themselves. Perhaps it was the fact that he yearned for someone to befriend whilst the townspeople mistreated and disrespected him for his oddities, or perhaps it was his pride towards his own intelligence. However it may be, he started spending more time upon making the automatons, "omnics" as he called them or "Zomnics" as they were later called by the townspeople for their ghastly slow movements. Lord Reinhardt was displeased by him giving his time to such silly things, even more so when Junkenstein came to his door to show them. Every time he made adjustments and showed them to the Lord, he waved the "useless trinkets" away, and everytime his already feeble fame deteriorated in peoples rumours. Madman, lunatic and fool were quickly becoming synonyms for his name. This only spurred him on in his quest to prove them wrong. The metal husks laying in his laboratory soon turned to dug up corpses, the wires he used to put inside turned to stitches on the flesh and what he couldnt understand in anatomy he changed into machinery. Soon he had a body, half organic half inorganic, and all he needed was to make it come alive. Bloodpumping didnt work. Watershocks didnt work. Exchanging the heart into a running motor didnt work. Atlast he tried using electricity to bring his creation to life, unsuccessfully. Junkenstein was exhausted, abused and even his trust in his skills had failed him. He was on the brink of quitting and burying that stupid project, until...

Witch of the Wilds appeared!

The Witch of the Wilds was a well known individual, feared by all near and far for her magic. It was rumoured she could turn coal into gold, make waterfalls run upwards and burn a castle with the flick of her wrist. She was also known from her coming to people at their darkest hour and offering a solution... for a price. And thats exactly what she offered Junkenstein, a solution to his problems; the spark of life. She only asked for a favor, one she would come collect in a nearby future and one that he couldnt refuse. He accepted. He had nothing to lose. Applying the spark of life onto his machine, he started the creatures heart and mind. There were a lot of things that went through its mind when it woke, curiosity and giddiness, but most importantly: Panic. In a furious frenzy it tore itself from its bindings and ran out, into the streets of Adlersbrunn. The townspeople, upon seeing the monster, immediately screamed, cried, yelled, attacked and fled. The monster had no sympathy for people so cruel as the baker who hit it or the children kicking its shins, so he let out his rage onto the masses. It was carnage.

Junkenstein was happy. He had succeeded! His monster was doing exactly what he wanted; avenging the years of societal neglect and bullying Junkenstein had gone through. Yet he had no control over the monster, and no idea how to get it to the Lords doorstep. A couple of hours of manipulating the routes and trying to get the monster where he wanted, he finally got to the door.... Only to find that while he was busy, so was the Lord. He had hired a few wanderers to protect him when he had heard of the happenings in the town. An old soldier searching for a fight, an alchemist practizing her talent, an archer running from the past and a gunslinger hunting for easy money. Only four they were against the doctor, his monster and his minions, and against the Witch of the Wilds and her fearsome ally; a cursed pumpkinheaded man by the name of Reaper. And only four they were who beat him, leaving his corpse battered onto the rocktiles of the yard. His monster was perished, the Witch had fled and the Reaper had gone with her. The wanderers went inside to claim their prize.

Chapter 2: How to tame a monster and revive a doctor.

As the wanderers left the scene, Witch of the Wilds saw her chance to do her work. She quickly used the spark of life to revive Junkenstein, giving his bruised flesh some tidying up whilst doing it, and watched as he sat up. Safe to say, he was pissed to have lost. He wanted to charge right back into fight, but was stopped by the Witch. She managed to make him change his mind, to wait for a year and build his army before trying again, and give her some time to get allies. Gathering what he could of the broken zomnics, Junkenstein found the corpse of his monster and decided to take it back to his lab for revival. He wasnt sure if the creature would run out again or stay, but he wanted to still show the town that he could make something living. This time, when rising from the cold metal table, the monster sat still and stared at Junkenstein. During the fight it had noted that the doctor didnt attack him, even defending him from the attacking gunslinger. It decided to stay near him, for no other reason than that it trusted him. Junkenstein was thrilled to have a friend, even if it did smell of decay a bit.

11 months went by in peace. The town healed, forgot about the incident and, assuming that the wrecked corpse of a homeless man was Junkensteins, buried the past with it. Meanwhile the doctor had other things to think about. He had built an army of zomnics, had tamed the monster and befriended it, had taught it to speak a little and had served the Witch on a few occasions. On some days he still liked to venture into town to see how life was going there. At one point he had almost forgiven the town, before he had come to learn of a new game for the children based after the mocking of his person. Thats when his short temper blew into pieces and he jumped to make an announcement in the middle of the town. He raged, mocked, spat at the townspeople, before revealing his identity and announcing that all of them would perish under his boot. Seeing a dead man back from the grave gave quite a scare to the town, making them panickedly run to the local Lords. They decided that a meeting was to be held to consider this new threat. Some voted to kill Junkenstein again, yet it was deemed to be an ineffective solution due to him coming back the last time. Some voted to trap him and enslave him for the rest of his days, but it was a futile idea for someone like him to be trapped. He would just squirm his way out like the vermin he was. It was decided that Adlersbrunn was to be evacuated. All people were to be gathered into Lord Reinhardts castle, to have few protectors stay behind until they could safely escape. Lord Reinhardt sent word to three people in order to get protection for this event. A Countess from a family of Hunters that had shut herself from the world. An old friend of the Lord who traveled the world, hunting dragons. And a Monk with his Apprentice, answering to a higher calling than human.

Meanwhile the Witch of the Wilds was gathering her allies, having gotten an interesting offer from a dragon in the Black Forest. The dragon offered to lend one of their servants the powers of a dragon and give that servant into the Witches hands for the battle. The Witch was intrigued but suspicious, so she asked what the dragon wanted in return. Nothing. It wanted the greater good and it knew that the Witch wanted that too. Adlersbrunn was filled with people and people were filled with fears of the unknown. The Black Forest was filled with the unknown, and therefore they were hunted. Silver bullet battles, witch burnings and burials of the undead had plagued the creatures of the forest for long enough, and it was time for the people to leave them alone. If not by peace, then by force. Junkenstein was a great tool for the Witches cause, but she still needed more power, therefore she agreed to take the servant of the dragon onto the battlefield as her ally.

Chapter 3: Junkensteins Revenge 2, Electric Boogaloo

The fight happens almost the same as last, but this time the tables have turned. The wanderers struggle to keep up with the Summoners dragonfire blasts, the bombs lobbed by Junkenstein and the gunfire from Reapers guns. While they dont win the fight, they manage to hold them off just enough time for the townspeople to flee far away from Junkensteins grasp. Instead of a petrified Lord, Junkenstein is greeted by an empty castle. At first he seems gleeful, running to hop on the throne. Once he sits down and looks around, he bursts into tears. After all these years of pain, he doesnt even get his revenge. He doesnt get to have his victory even at his brightest moment. The monster tries to comfort its creator, succeeding just to quiet him enough for the Witch to speak. Its time for the favor he owes her.

Before, she wanted him to leave the town as well, but seeing how he was alone already she wanted something else. She wanted him to be a guardian for the black forest. No town would ever become of Adlersbrunn ever again and no one would step a foot into Black forest while the doctor was alive, to ensure that the creatures could live in peace.

He accepted, as he was to do, and remained the only human left.

Chapter 4: The time that we dont speak too much about because honestly nothing happens

Some hundred years passed in quiet. Adlersbrunn collapsed and became ruins of what it once was. Junkenstein guarded the forest and helped the creatures inside it, at one point building a bride for his monster. (Nothing too much is said about what happened to her or where she went) The monster learned and lived, helping Junkenstein with his work. Due to both of them having been revived with the spark of life, they had become immortal. (Unless killed) Witch of the Wilds passed peacefully after a long life. Reaper found his head and his curse was lifted. Life was good.

Chapter 5: Junkenstein of Eichenwalde

One day Junkenstein realizes that where Adlersbrunn once was, is now something new. People have come and started building a town, so he disguises himself and goes to investigate. These people have migrated here from the north, calling this place Eichenwalde, and seem to be very nice. They offer him food and water, the kids want to play with him and the grown ups tell stories of the North to him. He doesnt see an issue with them coming here to stay, since they seem nice and the forest has few creatures left to protect. When a little girl tries to run into the woods, Junkenstein holds her back and tells her not to go. Intrigued, the little girl asks why. The doctor starts telling about monsters and creatures to scare the kids, but they are more interested in hearing his ghost stories, so he obliges to tell them one. He tells about a mad scientist who created a monster and how the monster now lurks in the woods. The kids are excited and the adults think of it as a great legend. It becomes a habit for Junkenstein to come into the town to tell ghost stories to kids. One day, when its Halloween, he notices a difference. The town has changed their style into old fashioned clothes, their mechanical cars to wooden carriage and posters of a fake Mad scientist and a Monster litter the walls. The kids are playing as the characters from his stories and running around with mouths filled with candy. The legend has come into a tradition of a reenactment.

One day, a man arrives into the town, and raises some questions in Junkenstein. The man looks like the Lord. Speaks like the Lord. Walks like the Lord. Has the same mannerisms as the Lord. He even introduces himself as Reinhardt to the disguised Junkenstein. The Lord escaped. It would make sense for him to have started again somewhere else. This could be his descendant, without knowledge of the legend. Who would want such an odd story to be passed down to their descendants? Who would even believe it? Junkenstein keeps an eye on the man and, even when he leaves, the monster follows him for a while. It doesnt seem like he is a threat of any kind. The life goes on in Eichenwalde, with Junkenstein telling stories and living his life with the monster. Every year his story is celebrated in front of him, without any idea that it is truer than any other tale told.

The End.

It took me 3 hours to write this down and I know it starts showing at the end. Also, there are still some mysteries in the story that have absolutely no canon to even start theorizing from. (Aka The Sombra Situation. Theres literally only one spray and a skin where she is linked in any way.)

Also, some very fun theories that I didnt know how to incorporate into the story are:

McCree gets bitten by a werewolf after the first fight

The first fight is the original Junkensteins revenge-gamemode. The second fight is the Endless gamemode.

Canonically the countess killed the Monks master, and I like to think its because of this they lost. They couldnt trust eachother.

When Summoner is close by the air gets heated.(Almost Canon. It is implied in voicelines)

Junkenstein is implied to be so chatty that he keeps talking/laughing during the fight

The Countess is from a family of Vampire hunters, who was bitten by a vampire and was ashamed. The reason she joins the battle is to honor her familys name and hunt for one last time.

It took me 3 separate days to research the canon elements, put them onto a paper and theorize around them and now I finally got this written down in here.

If you are interested in the notes I have, here you can read them: (Mostly in english, but might have some finnish words in there)

Now go my children! Hyperfixate onto this and share my pain!

(Also I would appreciate that if you take this theory and post it somewhere else, that you would credit me and tell your friends I said Hi!)

[itsbenedict]

Two-Faced Jewel: Session 1-B

(Part B, for length- see Part A first.)

Zero and @eternalfarnham are Looseleaf and Saelhen du Fishercrown, a mothfolk animist and a half-elf conwoman whose travels take them to Blacksky University, where the discovery of an unknown magical artifact sets them on the path to discovering the secrets of a shattered world.

Saelhen du Fishercrown has just involuntarily bonded with a magical bracer under false pretenses. The deans of the School of Natural Arts and the School of Arcane Arts have reached a compromise- send Looseleaf (equipped with a wand of Locate Object) to keep an eye on her. None of this bodes well for her plan to skip town and pawn the thing- if she doesn't follow the magical arrow, it's going to be hard to explain.

So... she figures she might as well find out where it's pointing, and see if there's a way to remove it and/or shake her tail at the end.

Saelhen du Fishercrown:Saelhen is best served by seeming a bit silly, here. So I think she's going to follow the arrow directly and just straight-up cross over the fences. Looseleaf:Looseleaf fidgets a bit. "I mean, honor has to tarry for things like, classes, and stuff, occasionally, right?" "Not to mention, you still, like, need to do a whole interview." "And you can't just- like, at the least I'd want to get the campus news department involved, y'know, put this in the news and stuff, right?" Saelhen du Fishercrown:"I will be proud to answer any questions you have as we go, Madam Looseleaf." Saelhen approaches the campus fence and begins to struggle over it. Looseleaf:Looseleaf is only vaguely sure that this campus has anything like a newsletter, but something about this lady's insistency on walking off into the sunset as quickly as she can is making Looseleaf's antennae twitch, a little bit. "Uhhhhhh," Looseleaf says. "Okay, sure, then."

They take a pretty direct route to where the arrow's pointing. On the way, Looseleaf puts the screws to Saelhen by poking at her cover story.

Saelhen continues to roll crazy good on Deception, vs Looseleaf's History, and Looseleaf can't find any fault in Saelhen's staggeringly-detailed hand-calligraphied forgery.

Benedict I. (GM): So- it seems like this was written by someone who's at least read A Flawless History of the Elven Peoples cover to cover. There aren't any obvious contradictions, and a lot of supporting details- it's hard to believe someone could've just made all this up. Looseleaf: But, okay, wow, Looseleaf is... absolutely engrossed in this book. This is the good stuff. Benedict I. (GM): You're familiar enough with the vagaries of the biographical tradition that there could easily be creative reinterpretations or doctored facts in here, but you don't have any way to distinguish them from reality. Saelhen du Fishercrown: Saelhen keeps up a running commentary while they walk. Looseleaf: But presumably there is no mention of any kind of accession ritual? Saelhen du Fishercrown:Jack nothing! Looseleaf:And definitely nothing along the lines of a stone bracer being involved in some kind of ancestral spirit worship ritual.

Yeah, something's fishy here. But it's a long book, and it takes a long time to read, and before Looseleaf can get through it, the arrow starts to swerve.

The bracer seems to have lead them to Yoshimimoto Plaza, a wide pavilion in the middle of a ring of government buildings owned by the Oyashio Port Authority- the city's secular government. Saelhen recognizes the design as remarkably similar to the floor of the Ryokou Temple in Kanzentokai.

The Ryokou Temple, hundreds of years ago, was once a great hub of teleportation, where travelers from all over the world came and went. Thanks to teleportation magic, the concept of "cities" and "nations" and "regional governments" didn't make a lot of sense back then, and the world was something of a fragmentary monoculture featuring several different competing governments- distributed governments which claimed authority over their members, not over geographical territories.

(If you've read anything of the Terra Ignota series, they were basically like the hives.)

Two or three centuries ago, though, something called the Blackout occurred. Teleportation magic suddenly failed- planar travel broke, as did the teleportation hubs in each of the world's major cities. Suddenly, the world was shattered into geographically distant territories, which suddenly had to administer themselves without contact with the rest of the world. The world as it is today was shaped by the effects of this Blackout, and how people rebuilt.

Yoshimimoto Plaza, now an unremarkable empty square, used to be the city's teleportation hub.

Saelhen, following the arrow, touches the bracer to the center of this plaza, and all hell breaks loose.

The bricks underneath them all suddenly fall into a pit, landing about twenty feet down on a squishy surface that yields under the impact. Despite the cushioning, Saelhen takes 5 bludgeoning damage from the fall. (Looseleaf can feather-fall with her moth wings, so she's fine.)

So, what you've landed on... first and foremost, it smells. It smells of mildew and decay, of something sealed up and left to rot. The walls of the pit aren't dirt or stone- you're not sure what they are. They're gray-green and porous, interwoven with what might be vines. The floor has a ton of bricks on top of it, but where those bricks fell unevenly, you can see the floor is a mass of these squishy vines- or maybe tentacles, it's not entirely clear.

What's not fine is the old man who was feeding the pigeons on the plaza, who's broken his legs and is screaming for help. Also not fine are a couple of Oyashio Port Authority guards, who were chatting there and are now very perturbed.

Also not fine are the walls of this pit- they've got holes in them. Holes from which horrible little fleshy winged creatures are crawling:

These bloodsucking fiends claw their way out of the weird porous walls, and begin divebombing people with unholy shrieks.

The party rolls for initiative! Saelhen readies an action to intercept the enemy, and it's a good thing- she downs one of the stirges with a hidden blade when it gets close. (Looseleaf notes how suspicious it is that a noblewoman had a hidden blade up her sleeve.)

Looseleaf uses Rend Spirit on another one- a magical attack that uses animism as a blunt force weapon. The spirit of something is different from its soul- a living thing has a mind, but it also has a spirit, which is just sort of a semi-sentient magical handle on its body and the nature thereof. The spirit of something's muscles says "I want to expand and contract in response to nerve stimuli"- and Looseleaf can tell the muscles "No, you want to snfdkdfrksfjklafdr." The muscles' spirit gets real confused by this and tries to make its physical host do some snfdkdfrksfjklafdr, which makes no sense and results in chaotic flailing and tissue damage. Or, uh, "force damage", D&D's vaguest damage type.

She seizures the other stirge to death, but three more crawl their way out of the walls. Two go for the guards, who call for help and manage to take one down- but the third goes for the defenseless old man. Saelhen whiffs her thrown knife to intercept it, and the stirge buries its proboscis in the man's side and begins to drink.

Looseleaf: Holy shit, this woman is going to get people killed. Her nonsense- and probably confabulated- ancestral quest is going to get people killed.

Saelhen follows up by charging the stirge and slaying it- but four more stirges crawl out of the walls. There's no end to the damn things!

Looseleaf, who has wings, remembers them- and also remembers her starting gear! When do players ever do that? She gets out her 50 ft of rope and drops a rope ladder to help people escape.

The stirges are on the move, though- those not distracted by the guards go for Saelhen and Looseleaf. One of them gets through and impales Saelhen- who only had 6 hit points left after the fall damage, at level 1. It rolls well, and she goes down.

One of the guards grabs the old man and begins climbing out of the pit, just as reinforcements arrive with crossbows- but it's too late for Looseleaf, who gets herself divebombed by a stirge, which beats her AC and latches on. She tries to Rend Spirit it off her, but fails- and its next attack finishes her off. Meanwhile, Saelhen is still down in the pit being fed on, and rolls a critical failure on her first death save, counting as two failures! The party is completely KO'd by these horrible bloodsucking monsters they uncovered.

*

Luckily for them, they went down... in the middle of the administrative center of a highly populated city, surrounded by emergency services personnel who were actively trying to save them. As a result... they wake up in the hospital, not dead.

Looseleaf: "When the inquiries come in, I just want to make it clear, miss du Surplus," Looseleaf says in her hospital bed, "I do not know you and I do not know who you are and I am pretty sure that this is all your fault." Her antennae are swishing furiously, which is moth for 'fuck everything about this'. Saelhen du Fishercrown: "In my defense," says Saelhen, "I have no frigging idea why that bracelet summoned infinite bats, haha." "Ow."

It seems- from the chafing on her wrist- that someone tried to steal the bracer off her arm while she was unconscious, to no avail.

Saelhen du Fishercrown: "If your university wants it back, you're maybe going to have to use a cleaver. Ha ha. You know, I've actually been to places where they chop off your hand for stealing." Looseleaf: "You better hope they don't decide to chop off your arm," apparently Looseleaf's got more of a vindictive bent to her than you'd expect! "You folk only have two arms." Saelhen du Fishercrown: "Gonna be a super dishonorable wound." Looseleaf: "Yeah, we're dispensing with the whole, elegant elf politese thing entirely now, are we." "Not that it exactly made sense for a dignified hyper-polite elf to run around with a dozen daggers tied to them under the robes." Saelhen du Fishercrown: "For what it's worth, if you weren't dogging me so closely, I would have probably screwed off, tried to sell it, found out I couldn't and... I guess left town with the next circus. Amazing halfbreed with bad taste in jewelry." "But it's obviously not your fault, right? No idea your actions would lead to that." "Yeah, the mysterious maiden of the orient thing gets old after a while but so many people buy into it." "I am disowned, though, if it helps."

Saelhen pretty much spills all the beans to Looseleaf- and tries to lay out a plan for how they can both avoid taking the blame for this. Looseleaf is shocked that Saelhen has the audacity to try to keep up the con, after what happened- and horrified at the implication that she was somehow responsible for this.

Looseleaf:"You're thinking of trying to keep up the scam," Looseleaf says in disbelief. "By Harmony, you actually want to double down." Benedict I. (GM):"...suspects, wanted for...!" "...my students..." "...jured patients!" There's an argument happening outside your door. Looseleaf:"Oh, there it is," Looseleaf sighs. She folds her arms and looks up at the ceiling of the hospital room and resigns herself to be utterly annihilated by terrible inexorable fate.

The door opens, and in walks... uh. A nurse? It's a round tiefling woman dressed in... not so much a nurse's outfit as a sexy halloween costume of a nurse's outfit. It's... a lot. She seems to be playing the part of an actual medical professional, though, and after a quick checkup, asks which of their two guests they'd like to speak to first.

Who are these guests? Well, the first one is Provost Hamori, from the school. The drow lady. Something in Looseleaf's moth bones shudders as she enters the room and the trailing of her dress masks a skittering noise.

Luckily for them, the provost is very happy with them! Earth-shattering magical discoveries that unleash hordes of blood-sucking monsters on the populace of the city are not at all occasions to be mourned, in her opinion. There's so much new research to be done! It's exciting!

Plus, apparently, while they were out, refugees crawled their way out of the tentacle-floor in the pit! Supposedly descendants of people who disappeared from the face of the Jewel when the Blackout occurred. They'd managed to survive in that sort of horrible Stranger Things-ass upside-down horror-world for hundreds of years! Very exciting!

Provost Hamori reassures them that everything will be fine, and asks them to tell the truth to the nice police lady who's about to have a friendly chat with them.

Said police lady takes her turn to speak to the hospitalized party.

Benedict I. (GM): "My name is Stella Lastwave. I am captain of the Port Authority city guard. I am required to disclose this information." Then she leans in. "Would the two of you like to tell me what the fuck is happening in my city?" Saelhen du Fishercrown: Good question! Benedict I. (GM): "Dozens of bloodsucking hellmonsters are menacing the citizens, a troop of ultraviolent feral children are wreaking havoc in the streets, and the Yoshimimoto Plaza is a ruined crater of necrotic energy!" "I have fourteen witnesses stating that you walked up to the middle of the plaza with a magic item, touched the ground, and unleashed hell on the innocent citizens of Oyashio!" "You're going to explain what the hell you thought you were doing, right now!" Looseleaf: “Um. It was an accident?” Looseleaf begins, and then hedges, because this intimidating cop lady is intimidating her, and all of her prepared lines of explanation have gone right out the window. Benedict I. (GM): "An accident." "Again."

Captain Lastwave is highly suspicious of Saelhen's story- as the de la Surplus family doesn't exist in any of the shipping records they have for the world's busiest port city. If they're not in the records, they either don't exist, or they're smugglers.

Saelhen du Fishercrown: "We have... fallen on difficult times as of late. It is a stain on our honor that we have failed to contribute to Kanzentokai's glory, I realize." Saelhen sighs. "...it was my hope that I might restore our reputation by completing the succession, when the means were lost to us for so long." Benedict I. (GM): "Yeah? And your 'succession' means siccing demons on a city of innocent people?" Looseleaf: “They just assigned me to her as an anthropology assignment,” Looseleaf babbles. “I was supposed to follow her doing her rite thingy and write it down and turn it in as an essay for my self-directed project.” Whatever the splash radius of this negotiation is going to wind up being, Looseleaf is absolutely making sure that she ends up outside of it. Saelhen du Fishercrown: "Strange are the ways of my ancestors. It is my hope that I will be allowed to serve the free citizens of Oyashio, as I have served those citizens long-imprisoned by the Blackout." Benedict I. (GM): "This is the seventh goddamn evil magic apocalypse that witch up in Blacksky has tried to wipe out Oyashio with! Even when it's not them, it's them, or-" "-what, are you talking about the murdercrazy teenagers running wild in the streets?" Looseleaf: Looseleaf looks at Fishercrown. ”Oh.” Saelhen du Fishercrown: "So I have been told." Looseleaf: "So that’s what the Provost meant by... whoof." "So, ‘we found humans on the other side of the portal’ was definitely a euphemism, huh.”

Thanks to Saelhen once again rolling absurdly high on Deception, Captain Lastwave lets them off with a warning, and leaves. They leave the hospital- or rather, the Temple of Karou, Heartlifter, God of Joy.

as you leave the Temple of Karou, you learn that the Temple of Karou comprises the upper floors of the building, 2 and up the first floor, run by the local bishop of Karou (Vermillion Hansen, the tiefling "nurse" you met) is the Pink Lips Pleasure House- an official government institution funded by the Ecumene of Joy. it is a brothel. the Ecumene of Joy is a little weird.

So with that crisis officially Not Their Fault, Looseleaf and Saelhen return to Blacksky, where the Provost- in exchange for keeping it Not Their Fault- will be having them conduct further research on this bracer- which has sprouted a new arrow, pointing off somewhere to the northeast.

Next session, we'll see what that research entails!

[tayegi]

Curiosity (m)

Belated gift for Taehyung’s bday. Written because TaeTae’s a sly little kid who would totally try to pull this shit irl.

Warning: smut

Word Count: 5,164

Hey, ___. This reddit post says that a vagina feels like the inside of your cheek. Is that true?" Taehyung casually asks in the midst of your study session.

You spit out your drink all over yourself in surprise, "Wh-what?!"

The redhead casually looks up from the textbook sprawled across his lap, "The inside of your cheek. You know, here," he hooks a finger inside his mouth to demonstrate.

Your face heats at his extremely tactile demonstration, "I know what that means, you idiot! I just—I don't know what you're asking me this!"

"Why not?" he asks with a blank look on his face, "As someone who has a vagina, shouldn't you know best?"

"I—I," you splutter, embarrassed beyond belief, "I don't know, okay? I've never thought about it!"

"Well, then think about it," he snorts, "Is it true?"

Self-conscious, you turn away from him before carefully sticking a finger into your mouth to prod at the inside of your cheek. Sure enough, the warm, moist flesh feels familiar, but there's something missing… "It's close, but not the same," you say as you remove your finger from your mouth.

"Really?" Taehyung says, eyebrows raising with interest, "How so?"

"I dunno," you mumble as you poke your tongue in your cheek with a frown, "It's just… not as soft, I guess?"

Taehyung's eyes widen in a way that makes you flustered, "What? So it's even better than that?!"

"Oh god, Tae… Why are you asking me this?" you groan as you throw an arm over your eyes, "Can't you just fuck a girl and figure it out for yourself?!"

"I want to," he sighs deeply, "But it never works out! Girls just don't like me, I guess."

You gape in disbelief at his ridiculous statement, "Don't be stupid. Look at your face!"

He strokes his jaw with a grin, "It is pretty nice, isn't it?"

"Yeah, dumbass. Just flash that pretty little face of yours at anything in a skirt, and I guarantee you that that skirt's dropping in a millisecond."

"Hey, ___. Aren't you wearing a skirt right now…?" He asks, his tone thick with insinuation.

You pause for a moment to think through your words before responding, "Don't you start again…"

He sighs deeply and sets down his book to flop onto the bed, "I'm just so curious!" he groans, voice muffled by the pillows, "This is everything I've fantasized about since the moment I hit puberty! Now that I'm in my twenties, I'm fucking dying of curiosity!"

You put down your book as well to stare at him. With his lean, tan skin and perfectly symmetrical features, Kim Taehyung is without doubt the most handsome man you've ever laid eyes on. How is it possible that he's such a stir-crazy virgin at his age?

"Alright," you say with a sigh, "Let's go."

Taehyung peeks from the mountain of blankets covering him with interest, "You'll let me finger you then?"

"What?! No!" you screech, whole body recoiling with shock.

He chuckles in response, "You're gonna wake up the neighbors, babe."

"Ugh! How can you even think that? I was just saying that we should go to a bar and pick up a girl or something! Geez!"

Taehyung huffs with disappointment, "Why bother when I have a girl in my room right here?"

You rub your suddenly aching temples, "Taehyung… Will you please explain to me the sudden interest in getting in my pants?"

"Because I'm horny and curious!" he groans, rolling around in the bed like a little boy throwing a tantrum, "How can I even fantasize and jerk off properly when I don't know what a woman's body feels like?"

"Well, I can try to describe it to you, if you'd like," you offer, trying to resist the urge to laugh. He just looks so silly throwing a fit like that.

"Sure," he says in a dejected tone.

"It's really not that abstract of a concept," you begin, "It's just warm… and tight… and really really soft. Especially if you get a girl wet enough. Then it's super slick and fluid. And not quite like a mouth. Cum is a million times wetter than saliva. That's why it's nature's lube, after all."

Taehyung stares at you from the bed with dark eyes, "Oh… That sounds…" he licks his lips, "Good."

You resist the urge to shiver at the way he voices that word. "Yeah," you absentmindedly agree, "It is… well, granted I don't have a dick to feel how good it is, but I can only imagine…"

"Fuck," Taehyung curses as he beats his fist in frustration. And is it only your imagination or do his hips roll against the mattress for a split second…? "God, that sounds hot. I want that so fucking bad. All I've ever had is my dry ass hand… Just one time. I'm dying to feel it just once."

Your mouth grows dry and you lick your lips for moisture, "Should we make you a tinder?"

"___..." he murmurs your name as he slowly rolls over on the bed to face you, "Baby…"

With his hooded dark eyes and his fiery hair falling into his eyes, he looks like a demon incarnated. You're tempted like Eve before the lure of the apple, but somehow, you manage to resist, "I'm not taking your virginity, Tae, so you can just forget about it."

"I'm not asking you to. I just want you to sit on my dick once, okay? That's it."

"How is that not taking your virginity then?" you ask, suspicious.

"I don't consider that to be real sex," he says with a snort, "You wouldn't consider one stroke a handjob, would you? Same logic applies here."

Still, you chew your bottom lip, indecisive, "I don't know, Tae…"

"You told me once that you were attracted to me."

You flush at the memory, cursing your alcohol-addled brain for that one moment of weakness last semester, "Yes, but we're just friends. I don't want to change anything."

"Nothing will change between us," Taehyung insists, "We've done way weirder things together… Remember when I held you off the balcony as you peed during Jin's New Year's Eve party last year?"

Your lips twitch at the reminder, "I really didn't think you'd be strong enough to Simba me like that!"

"Yeah, but I did. And we're still friends after that! So I don't see how one tiny little stroke of your pussy is going to change anything."

You stare at him, "Taehyung… Are you actually serious about this?"

He stares back unblinkingly, "Dead serious."

Neither of you say anything for a period of time as you gravely consider one anything. Taehyung's gaze is steely and more focused than you've ever seen it. Finally, the moment is broken when you break eye contact with an exasperated sigh, "Fine. Let's do it."

Taehyung's eyes light up and he instantly bounds upright in bed, "Really?! ___, you are the best!"

Then, before you can react, he suddenly rushes over to practically tackle you to the floor. "Oomph!" you grunt as the air is quite literally knocked from your lungs, "Get off of me, you oaf!"

But he simply laughs and covers your face in kisses, "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" he chants, "You are the best!"

"You're only getting one stroke, and that's it, okay?" you pull back to wag a finger in his face in a threatening manner, "If you try to fuck me, I swear to god, Kim Taehyung…"

"I won't," he promises, "I know you think of me as a stupid kid with no self-control. But I'm really not like that anymore!"

"Whatever you say," you roll your eyes, "But if you try anything, I won't hesitate to punch you in the face."

"Sounds good to me," he says as he affectionately rubs his face against your neck like a cat, "Now can we get started or what?"

"God, you're so impatient," you groan as you manage to pull him off of you with no shortage of difficulty. "Just lie down on the bed so we can get this over with."

"Okay!" he chimes in a singsong voice as he cheerfully obeys. "Like this?" he asks as he hauls himself against the headboards.

"Yeah. That's fine," you say, but hesitate at the foot of the bed, suddenly filled with dread.

"Whatcha waiting for?" Taehyung cocks his head to the side, "Come here and take a seat on my lap," he says, patting his thigh for emphasis.

"Oh god, this is probably a huge mistake," you groan as you slowly do as you're told, gingerly climbing onto the bed and swinging your legs on either side of his hips.

"Nonsense!" he happily says, "We can only get closer after this! Now, should we make out a bit first or-?"

A hand slapped over his mouth stops him in his tracks, "Taehyung." You growl in a warning tone.

He chuckles against your palm, "Sorry," he mumbles in a muffled tone.

You roll your eyes as you slowly remove your hand, "Ok, get yourself hard so we can get this over with."

"I'm already hard."

"…what?"

He at least has the tact to look embarrassed, "I'm excited, okay? My penis has been waiting for this for the last decade or so! How can I not be prepared?!"

"Ugh, gross."

"It's natural and beautiful!" he insists.

"Ew, whatever. Just hurry up and whip it out already."

"Wait," he says, stopping you with a hand on your wrist before you can grab for him, "I know I'm inexperienced, but don't we have to prepare you or something first? Are you wet enough?"

"Hmm… let me check," you say, sliding a hand under your skirt to fumble along the crotch of your underwear, "Ah, good thinking. I'm not quite there yet… Give me a minute or two."

It's a bit awkward touching yourself with Taehyung staring at you with huge, starstruck eyes, but there's something strangely sensual about the unabashed hunger in his gaze. Quicker than you could've imagined, you're suddenly aroused enough to touch yourself directly, without the barrier of your underwear to shield you from your sensitive flesh. Your mouth hangs open in a silent moan as you circle your clit before sliding your fingers inside of you.

Taehyung licks his lips as he stares at the tantalizing motions of your hand under your skirt. "___..." he whispers in a hoarse voice, "Can I do that for you?"

You pause at his bold request. But what'd you expect from meddlesome little Kim Taehyung? You exhale slowly through your nose. This probably isn't a good idea… But his hands are so beautiful that they take your breath away. From even where they casually rest on top of the sheets, they look like pure artistry; long, thin musician fingers with large palms that would feel so good on your body.

You sigh again, "Fine. But be gentle, okay? I don't want you to squash the life out of me. I've had enough of that clumsy groping in high school!"

Taehyung gives you a look, "I might be a virgin, but I'm not an idiot, ___. I can be gentle."

"Alright… But if you poke me, I'll be too sore to sit on your dick," you warn him.

His eyes widen in horror, "Oh god, okay. I'll do my best."

You smirk to yourself at his sudden obedience, even as you grab his hand to bring it under your skirt. Slowly, you move your underwear to the side so that his fingers brush against your heat.

Taehyung flinches in surprise, "Oh… This is… weird."

Your lips quirk at his reaction, "Not really what you expected? It's just like a mound of weird, fleshy meat, huh?"

"Kinda… but not really… You're so soft… and warm. Wow." After a few seconds of guidance from you, Taehyung's hand begins to move of its own accord, and you nearly jump out of your skin as his fingers accidentally brush against your clit. He retreats his hand at once, "Shit, did I hurt you?"

You soften at the look of concern on his face, "No, not at all," you reassure him, "It's just that you touched my clit."

"…Oh?"

"And it felt really good."

"Oh." Realization floods his face, and he jumps to repeat the motion over and over.

You close your eyes for a second, relishing the sensation of his fingers rubbing surprisingly nimble circles around your clit, before you quickly snap back into action. "Th-that's enough," you mutter, biting back a moan when an experimental pinch of your clit between his fingers has your stomach flipping with pleasure. "I should be wet enough. You can finger me now."

Taehyung looks lost for a moment, "I… I… don't really know how…"

The blush that suffuses his cheeks is so adorable that you forgo the teasing for once. "Let me demonstrate," you say, reaching under your skirt to grab his fingers again. This time, you only take his index finger and slowly drag it over to your entrance.

The redhead swallows hard as he feels your wet heat. "___..." he murmurs your name.

You smile at him in response, "Go slow, okay? Don't shove it all in at once. That hurts."

"O-okay," he stammers. Then, taking a deep breath, he follows your instructions.

With the first prod of his finger, he can't enter you. Bewildered, he looks at you for guidance, but you simply laugh, "It's okay, Tae. Use a bit more force."

He nods his understanding before doing as you instruct. "O-oh," he gasps as he finally breaks through the barrier and meets the molten hot interior that instantly sucks him in. "Oh my fucking god…"

You bite your bottom lip to keep from laughing at the expression on his face, "How does it feel, Tae?"

"Reddit lied," he growls, "This feels nothing like the inside of a cheek… This feels so… hot… and soft… and tight."

Your pussy clenches at the way he practically moans the last word and Taehyung's eyes widen at the sudden suctioning feeling around his finger.

"Fuck, how are you so tight?! There is no way my dick will fit inside of you."

"There's only one way to find out," you say with a wink as you tug on his wrist to pull his finger out of you. "Lie down on your back, baby."

"Wait, but I wasn't done preparing you," he says, alarmed, "I barely even fingered you!"

The look of concern on his face is so endearing that you can't resist swooping down to plant a kiss on his nose, "I'm ready, Tae. Don't worry."

"What?" he frowns, "Really?"

"Yeah, can't you tell how wet I am?" You ask as you pull his hand up to his face.

Taehyung's eyes grow round as he takes in the sticky fluid that covers his index finger. "Oh…" he tentatively gives his finger a lick, "Hmm…"

Heat fills your face at the erotic gesture, "It's more of an acquired taste," you defend yourself.

But he cocks his head to the side in confusion, "What are you talking about, ___? You taste delicious."

At that, all the heat in your face abruptly trickles down to fill the pit of your stomach instead. If you weren't sure before, then there's no doubt in your mind now that you are undeniably aroused. You take a deep breath to clear your mind, then smile down at him.

"I'm clean and on the pill, but we can still use a condom if you'd like."

"No," he says at once, "Let's not."

You resist the urge to roll your eyes at that. What a typical man. "Okay," you say as you push him flat against the pillows before climbing up to straddle him, "Last chance to back out, Taehyung. I promise I won't judge you."

"Are you serious? Fuck no. I'll die if I have to wait another second!"

His enthusiasm is surprisingly endearing. You shake your head at his cuteness before ducking down to kiss his cheek, "You're going to have an instinctual urge to thrust once I put you in," you warn him as you reach down to undo his belt and zipper, "No matter what, you've gotta resist that urge, okay? Or else I'll kick your ass."

"G-got it," he says, voice trembling slightly when your hands brush against his bulge.

You take a second to tease him with little strokes over the fabric of his underwear, thoroughly enjoying the way he shakes and groans, before you slip your thumbs under the waistband to free his erection, "Now, don't forget that you only get one stroke, okay? I'm only sitting down once, then pulling off, and that's it. So don't you even think about—what the fuck?!" you gasp, lecture instantly forgotten when his bare erection pops into view.

Taehyung self-consciously stares down at his naked length, "Wh-what? Is there something wrong?"

But you can't respond for a second, staring at his dick with your jaw hanging. "I… I—Kim Taehyung, why the fuck didn't you warn me that you were hung like a fucking horse?!"

He sheepishly rubs the back of his neck, "I told you it wouldn't fit."

"You know, there are girls who would lose their fucking minds trying to get at a monster dick like this," you absentmindedly comment as you attempt to curl your fingers around his length. You're dismayed to find that your fingers can barely touch.

Taehyung's breath hitches, "God, I hope you're one of those girls…"

You chuckle softly as you give him an experimental stroke. Taehyung doubles over at the contact as though he's been punches in the stomach. "Jesus," he wheezes.

"What's wrong, TaeTae?" You ask him innocently, even as you begin to jerk him off, picking up the leaking precum at the head of his cock to rub all over his length.

The redhead throws his head back with a deep groan, "Fuck… if you keep doing that, you're gonna make me cum before I get to feel your pussy."

"Virgins are so cute," you giggle, before slowing your pace until you're only skimming his length with the tips of your fingers, "Has anyone touched you before?"

"A few times," he admits, "But mostly at parties, when I was drunk off my ass and couldn't feel or remember anything. Nothing like this."

You hum in response, admiring the way his dick twitches in your hand, as though trying to jump closer to your touch, "Is this what you expected?"

"Not at all," he says at once, "I've tried everything before… Jerking off with my left hand, sitting on my hand until I lost all feeling in it, but nothing compares to this… Fuck, you're barely touching me right now, but why does it feel so fucking good?"

His voice pitches at the end of his sentence, making your core clench with need. "Somehow, I feel like I've corrupted your innocence," you sigh as you drop his cock, making his eyes shoot open with shock.

"Ah, ___," he whines, "Don't stop. Come on, babe. I'm so fucking horny I could die."

"You're such a greedy, spoiled little kid," you lightly scold him as you rise to your knees to hook your now thoroughly soaked underwear to the side and position yourself, "Wouldn't you rather have my pussy?"

Realization dawns on his face. "Yes, please!" He chimes, eagerly bobbing his head up and down.

"You're just lucky that you're so cute," you say as you wrap a hand to keep him steady as you press his head against your entrance. "Now do you want me to go slow or sit down all in one go?"

Taehyung is on the verge of hyperventilating as he stares at you with eyes popping out of his skull. "Hngg, I… I dunno… ___, there's no way I'm gonna fit."

You shush him with a finger pressed against his lips, "Your monster dick is impressive, I'll give you that. But I'm tougher than you think. So do you want it slow or—?"

"Slow," he says at once, "I want to remember every detail."

Your lips twitch, "For that spank bank material, huh?"

He flashes you a boxy smile, "You know me too well."

"That, I do," you snicker, "Now sit still and let me satisfy your curiosity, okay?"

Taehyung eagerly nods, lip caught between his teeth as he watches your every move with hawk-like eyes, "You can stop at any time," he tells you, "I don't want to hurt you."

His concern is silly, but undeniably sweet, and you swoop down to give him another kiss, this time on the corner of his mouth. "If you continue to be so nice to me, I might be tempted to spoil you," you warn him as you rub the swollen red head of his cock against your folds.

Taehyung's breathing stutters when it catches against your entrance. "I… I don't think that'd be a bad thing."

Your next kiss lands directly on his lips, making him jerk with surprise. But you push him down with a hand flat against his chest when he attempts to rise for another taste. "Don't you dare thrust."

"I won't," he promises, teeth digging into his bottom lip as you continue to rub his sensitive tip against your soft, wet folds. But you never allow him inside, simply allowing your wetness to soak him, tempting him with your heat until Taehyung feels frustrated enough to cry. And only then do you begin to push him in.

At first, you meet resistance, but when you take a breath to force yourself to relax, you're able slide the head of his cock in… And then, feeling particularly sadistic, you pause to assess his reaction.

He does not disappoint.

"Ah, ___!" he yelps your name, hand shooting up to dig into your thigh, "Why did you stop?"

"I just wanted to check and make sure that you're okay," you lie through your teeth, "How does it feel?"

"Good," he says at once, teeth clenched to hold back a moan, "So good, fuck. I can't believe how soft you are. It's like fucking velvet, but so much smoother, and tight and—ugh, fuck!"

At his explicit description, you can't help but involuntarily tighten over him, making him cry out in pleasure. "I told you Reddit was wrong," you inform him, flinching slightly when his blunt nails dig into your skin hard enough to leave marks.

"Fuck, ___. Please don't stop."

He's shaking so hard underneath you that the bed is practically vibrating. Sweat has soaked through his thin shirt, plastering it to his chest like a second skin. You've barely done anything and his self-control is already hanging by a thread. It's so unexpectedly sexy that your stomach clenches.

"Alright," you say, leaning down to give him another kiss that he barely registers, all his attention focused like a laser on the wet heat enveloping his cock. You affectionately brush his sweaty red hair off of his forehead before slowly lowering yourself down another inch, wincing slightly as his thick cock tears you open.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Taehyung chants over and over as you swirl your hips to allow him to feel every inch of you. Your slow pace is excruciating, making your thighs scream with pain, but it's worth it for the way it makes Taehyung tense up like he's on the verge of bursting out of his own skin.

You're about halfway down when a sudden cramp makes you pause with a wince. "Ah, Tae, why are you so fucking big?" you say with a breathless laugh, "I'm going to be so sore in the morning."

He gnaws his lip, clearly torn between allowing you offering you respite like a gentleman and shoving you all the way down. Instead, he settles for a compromise, "I-I'm sorry, ___," he murmurs as he massages your thigh with his large hands, "I know it hurts, but can you try to take a little more? Please?"

The slight tremor in his voice gives away his thinly veiled desperation, no matter how he tries to play it cool. You sigh deeply, feigning reluctance, "Alright… But only because you asked nicely," you say as you sink down another inch or two.

Taehyung whimpers in response, unable to formulate coherent sentences as he scrunches his eyes shut and concentrates on not cumming too early, "Fuck."

"I'm almost there," you warn him, pressing hard against his chest to keep him still, "I know that every instinct in your body is probably screaming at you to thrust, huh?"

"Y-yes," he moans, "Like you wouldn't believe."

Your insides warm at the choked-up quality of his voice. For a moment, you're almost tempted to allow him to have his way with you. But a promise is a promise. And you can't let Taehyung go around thinking that he can get away with everything with that cute little face of his. He has to learn some discipline. And who better than you to teach him?

"Alright, I'm going to sit down now… Whatever you do, do NOT move, okay?"

He can only whine in response, "I-I'll try. Fuck, this is so good."

You smile to yourself as you slowly sink down to stretch over the last inch of him, until you're fully seated on his thighs. Then you pause for a breath, taking the moment to drink in his expression. His tan skin is flushed red, neck veins straining with exertion, and sweat soaking his shirt in dark patches. His thick cock already feels great stretching you out like this, but you know it's a million times better for him. This little virgin has never felt anything but his own hand before, and nothing like the wet, tight, burning hot velvet of your pussy. No wonder he looks like he's about to lose his fucking mind and explode out of his skin from a single, measly stroke. You're almost curious about how he'd react if you fucked him properly…

"Okay, that's enough. I'm gonna—"

"Wait!" Taehyung panicks, grabbing you by the hips hard enough to bruise when you try to lift off of him.

Your blood runs cold at the strength you feel in his grip. He's underneath you right now, seemingly at your mercy. But this sudden display of brute strength makes you realize how wrong you are. At any second, he could flip over to slam you on your back, holding you down, no matter how you struggle, with minimal effort. He might look delicate and weak, but that couldn't be further from the truth. Out of curiosity, you trail a hand over the arms caged around your waist, and your mouth fills with saliva at the bulging, steely muscle you find there. It's so unexpectedly sexy that a trickle of arousal slides out of you as your core involuntarily flexes around him again.

Taehyung throws his head back with a deep, guttural moan that sends chills down your spine. "This feels too fucking good. I can't even believe how good this feels. I would do anything you wanted if you let me fuck you."

Concerned by his statement, you glance down at him, then flinch in surprise when you find him already staring at you, his eyes so dark with hunger that you're surprised he hasn't already devoured you whole. Every single muscle in his body is tensed, with veins bulging in his arms and the back of his hands. You can't imagine how much self-control it's taking him to remain still. All you know is that the pain can't be short of excruciating.

You tear your gaze away from his tortured expression, fully aware that the more you look at him, the more tempted you'll be to give in.

"This is not what we agreed on," you gently remind him as you begin to lift off of him.

A whimper of utter despair pulls from the back of his throat as he feels the warmth recede from his length. For a moment, you're terrified that he might shove you back down on his length. The bruising grip on your waist certainly makes that a possibility. But to your utmost relief (and slight disappointment), he allows you to retreat.

Feeling the strange desire to reward him for his good behavior, you allow him one last squeeze of your pussy around just his sensitive, leaking head, before you pull off entirely. At once, you feel uncomfortably empty, like your pussy is caving in on itself, but Taehyung is on the brink of tears.

"Fuck, I should not have asked you to do that," he growls as he impatiently wraps his hand around his painfully hard erection.

Your mouth hangs open at the sight of him jerking off so boldly in front of you. "T-tae," you gasp as you fumble off of the bed, "What are you…?"

"It's like opening Pandora's box," he continues, undeterred, "I shouldn't have been so damn nosy. I can never go back to how things were before now that I know how good it is."

You watch him angrily stroke himself with round eyes. Only Kim Taehyung can be confident enough to masturbate in front of another person with no shame whatsoever. You lick your lips and force yourself to look at his face instead, "Well, you know what they say: curiosity killed the cat."

"But satisfaction brought it back," he adds, eyes as dark as coals as he stares at you unblinkingly.

You swallow tightly and drop your gaze to the floor, feeling uncommonly flustered, "I guess we'll have to make you a tinder then?" you joke, trying to laugh it off, "Now that you know how good pussy is, I imagine you're gonna want the real thing."

"What are you talking about?" he snorts, "You really think it's just pussy that's got me going?"

Your eyes snap up to meet his in surprise, "Wh-what?"

He scoffs again, "It's not just pussy, but your pussy. Now that I've got a taste of how good sex with you could be, do you really think I can go without?"

Your mouth goes dry as you gape at him like a fish out of water. Could he really be saying what you think he's saying…? "I… I don't know what to say."

"You can't honestly be surprised," he laughs, "You must've known how badly I've wanted you since day one."

You lick your dry lips as you try to collect your wits and approach this logically. But all you can think about is how good he looks propped up against the headboards with his hand wrapped around his thick red cock.

"Ah, fuck it," you growl as you abruptly rip your shirt off, "I guess I'm taking your virginity tonight after all, you little punk."

Taehyung beams so brightly, it hurts to look at him directly. "Thank you, reddit!"

A/N: Please don’t ask about sequels! Thanks so much :) 

[luccislegs]

Idk, I think it might be bc you're early on in the series/are a new blog? Just a guess, since a lot of people like Ace/Law/Kid or whoever. Anyhow, could I have some headcanons of Sanji with a crush who hides their mouth under a slip-on mask? They were told were told by their village elders that they have a disturbing grin and the mask doubles as a partial disguise while going out. Hope you get more requests soon!

i can appreciate that actually. also if that’s the case i should probably dip lmao i hate having to beg for asks. i do however appreciate you trying to help! also explain to me where you get these ideas bc they are stellar

–

“Hey.”

You jumped a little as a voice sounded from above you. Out of pure habit, you reached up and adjusted your mask, making sure it hadn’t slipped. When you looked up, you found a young man in a straw hat hanging upside down from the lowest branch of the tree you were seated under.

“Hello,” you said hesitantly. He wasn’t blinking as he stared, which would have been unnerving enough, but the straight line frown he wore made the whole of his upside down face downright disturbing. Closing the book in your lap, you prepared to run.

“Why doesn’t your mouth move when you talk?” he asked. His voice was deadpan, with little to no curiosity, which was in opposition to the fact that he had asked you a question that bordered on too personal.

You weren’t sure what possessed you to answer. Maybe it was that he seemed a bit dense, maybe it was the fact that he made you feel normal, but whatever it was, it made you say, “It’s…a mask.”

With that, he flipped out of the tree, landing on his feet in front of you. His mouth stretched into a wide and silly grin, instantly putting you at ease. “Why are you wearing that?” His question, though asked with no malice, set off alarm bells in your head, and you began to shut down.

“That’s none of your business, straw hat. I have to go.” But that wouldn’t be the last you saw of him.

You met the rest of the crew later on in the week, at the same time you found out they were pirates. It didn’t take them long to realize that the villagers seemed to avoid you unless absolutely necessary, and that you wore that mask like it was a defense against them. Each of them asked, at least once, and though you were less frosty than you had been with Luffy, you still made it abundantly clear to them that the topic was off limits.

They took the hint, and took it well, which maybe attributed to why you agreed to join their crew the day they decided to leave port. That, and they didn’t act like you were a freak for wearing it, even though they had only ever seen half of your face. They didn’t pressure you to remove it, to let them see it. They accepted that you may never show them, and invited you anyway.

You didn’t turn around to wave goodbye to anyone on the island, you knew that no one would be there waiting to see you off. It was likely only your imagination, but you thought maybe you could hear the whole island breathe one collective sigh of relief as you sailed away on a boat full of relative strangers. You did, too.

One person that seemed to care less than any of the others was Sanji. He treated you just like any of the others on the ship, except maybe Zoro. You weren’t sure what that was all about, but the others seemed to ignore it, so you did too.

You had been on the ship for a few months when you began to notice a change in his behavior, however. It was such a gradual change that you didn’t notice it at first, in fact, you weren’t really sure why you noticed it all of a sudden. You just did.

A big tell-tale was less flirting with Nami and Robin. Not that he didn’t still freak out periodically, but it was just…less.

A less obvious tell, and one you thought you were imagining at first, was that he began to watch you. More than he was before, and in a different way than before. It wasn’t suspicious, maybe concern, maybe confusion, you weren’t sure. But the more you watched him, the more he watched you.

It wasn’t long before it began to bother you, and you began to grow paranoid. Maybe he was finally wondering what was wrong with your face that you had never shown it, maybe he was going to demand you reveal yourself. Panic filled you at the thought, and you began to contemplate jumping ship at the next port of call. You wondered how long it would take them to notice you hadn’t come back, and that thought made you feel so lonely it was almost unbearable. It was the first time you had actually felt like you belonged somewhere, with no one judging you, no one casting dark looks over the shoulder as you passed, not ducking down alleyways as you approached.

The idea of leaving left your head swimming, and it was as you were starting to drown in it that Sanji approached.

The call of you name snapped you out of it, just enough that you could respond, but realizing that it was him sent you spiraling again. He wore a serious, contemplative look, the cigarette between his lips casting a strange shadow across his face.

“Woah, what’s wrong?” he asked, stopping just shy of your personal space.

“Nothing,” you said, a little to quickly, and even to you it sound hollow and untrue. But you couldn’t think of anything to add, too lost in your own negativity as you were, and you were content to stay there, until he spoke again.

“So, uh, we’re going to be landing soon. I was wondering…I have to go shopping so…do you maybe want to go into town with me?” he asked, his cheeks a flaming red that only grew brighter the more words tumbled out of his mouth. He was scratching the back of his head, his eyes flicking towards your face but never quite meeting yours.

Whatever you had expected him to say or ask, it wasn’t that, and you began to gnaw at your bottom lip as you considered his request. Throwing caution to the wind in the wake of the relief that filled your chest, you nodded, allowing a small, shy smile to creep up onto your face.

You shut it down just as quickly, slamming the happiness down as hard as you could before it could really manifest itself. It was too much to hope that he would go any further, too much to hope that it was more than it seemed. But still, you couldn’t help the tiny spark that lit in your chest.

From that moment until the time the anchor dropped at the dock, your heart fluttered against your ribs like a trapped bird, hope and despair playing tug-of-war with your nerves the whole time.

They eased a little when Sanji looked to you and offered his arm, which you took hesitantly but quickly came to enjoy. As you strolled through the square, he chatted amicably, like you were his best friend, and you found yourself reciprocating with ease. It was easy to forget for a while that you weren’t like everyone else, Sanji just treated you like that.

The facade was broken by a child screaming out, “What is that freaky mask your wearing? Are you ugly?”

As soon as you registered what was said, you deflated and sunk in on yourself, hunching your shoulders as you used your hair to hide your face. On the verge of tears, you yanked your arm from Sanji’s, wanting nothing more than to run back and hide on the ship. A strong hand on your wrist prevented you from escaping, and to your astonishment he began to yell at the child, calling him rude and demanding he apologize.

Unable to look up, you missed the terror on the boy’s face, followed by his mother ushering him away in a hurry, casting scathing looks back at your companion.

The grip on your wrist relaxed, and his thumb began to rub circles on your skin. “Hey, don’t listen to him. I don’t have to see your face to know you’re beautiful.”

It was such a typically Sanji thing to say you couldn’t help the snort of laughter that escaped your lips, but you quickly clamped your hand over the mask covering your mouth and cast a quick glance at Sanji.

“You can laugh. I’m not offended,” he said with a shrug. His hand slid further down, linking his fingers between yours before he began to pull you along in the direction you had been heading before the rude child called out.

You let him, watching the back of his head in bewilderment.

That initial outing didn’t establish a pattern exactly, but it quickly became apparent to everyone that something more was going on between the two of you since that day. Gentle hand brushed, a hand on your lower back as he passed by you, and soft smiles in your direction were too obvious to miss.

He still had his outbursts about Robin and Nami, but now they seemed reactionary rather than attention seeking, and even they could see the difference. Something about you had enamored him, and all without him ever seeing your full face.

The idea that he ever would filled you with dread. So you began to pull away.

He didn’t give you very long to try, though, and approached you about it exactly one week into your avoidance scheme. Naturally, you tried to duck away from him, but his hand around your wrist stopped you. It reminded you so strongly of that first day, that date, as you had begun to think of it, that you wanted to cry. It hurt to be so afraid of something as natural as this, but you couldn’t take the rejection if he decided, like your village had, that your smile was too unnatural to be normal.

“What’s wrong? Why are you suddenly avoiding me? Did I do something wrong?” he demanded, but he didn’t sound angry. Just hurt.

It twisted your heart, and you stopped trying to pull away. He was so kind, and funny, and charming, and all that coalesced into as strong a pull as you had ever felt towards someone before, and that frightened you. “No, Sanji. It’s– I–” You sighed in frustration at the words that wouldn’t come. You wanted to let him down easy, but it was impossible when you didn’t want to let him down at all. “I think– it’s better this way. I have a lot of…problems, from my past. I don’t want to drag you down.”

“It’s about that mask, isn’t it?” he asked, pulling at your wrist so you would turn around to face him. You went willingly enough, but wouldn’t look him in the eyes. “I don’t care about what’s under it. If it’s a scar or– or you have big lips or–”

You snickered at that, placing the back of your hand to the mask to stifle the noise. A flicker of a smile appeared on his face as well, but fell quickly.

“I mean it. I don’t care what’s under the mask. I like you, I want to get to know you better, if you’ll let me?” It was more question than statement; he was asking permission, and that endeared him all the more to you. For such a flirt, he sure was polite.

You looked up at him, trying to gauge whether he was lying at all, even though you knew from his tone that he wasn’t. He was only every this serious about food and fighting. And you, it seemed.

Trying to tamp down the rising panic in your chest, you began to reach up towards the ties that held your mask in place, your head starting to swim as your breathing became more shallow. Hands on yours stopped your progress though, and through the fog you could hear Sanji say, “Hey, you don’t have to show me. Not until you’re ready.”

Tears sparked at the sincerity, but you shook your head, words coming out in a hoarse tumble. “I need to know you’ll accept me as I am, before I get too attached and you hurt me. It’s better this way. Believe me.”

You could hardly see him, but thought you saw him nod, and the hands slipped from yours. The ties came loose a second later, and you cradled the mask gently in your hands as you brought it down from your face. It was the first time in many, many years that you had allowed someone to see you without it, and it felt like you were standing on the deck naked without it.

Sanji remained quiet as he stared at you, drinking in your face in it’s entirety like it was his first sip of water in a week. “Well, I don’t see any big lips, or a mustache, so–“

You cut him off with a snort, your lips curling up in a smile before you could stop it. Immediately, you clapped a hand to your mouth, barely daring to look at him but needing to know what his reaction was.

His brows furrowed, and his hand came up to tug gently at yours. You reluctantly allowed him to pull it down, clasping it in his like he was afraid you were going to hide behind it again if he let go. “Is that what you’re so afraid of? Your smile?”

The nod you gave him was a forced one; it felt like a weakness admitting it. The villagers never expressly made you wear the mask, but they made it clear they liked you better behind it. It became an unspoken rule that you had to wear it, and pretty soon you began to believe something actually was wrong with your smile, and with you. But the way Sanji was staring at you, not with disgust but with confusion, made you believe, just for a second, that maybe nothing was wrong.

“I don’t see anything wrong with it. Maybe it isn’t exactly like mine, but that doesn’t mean you have anything to be ashamed of.” His free hand came up and pushed a curl of hair out of your face, his fingers tracing a gentle path down your cheek afterwards. “I understand if you’re afraid, but my personal opinion is that you’re gorgeous. Wear the mask if it makes you feel better, but you don’t need to be ashamed of anything.”

More than anything, besides the fact that he didn’t outright run from you in horror, you were relieved that he didn’t diminish your fears. They were long kept and deep rooted, and they weren’t going to be conquered in one night. But even with just one person on your side, by your side, you felt better already. Like maybe one day you would be able to face everyone without your mask.

“Thank you, Sanji,” you whispered, your voice thick with unshed tears.

“You’re welcome, princess. You gonna stop avoiding me now?” he asked, flicking you gently on the forehead.

You giggled, and before you could even consider lifting your hand to hide it, it was already coming up. But then his was wrapped around it, squeezing gently. “We’ll work on that,” he said, leading you into the kitchen. “I think it’s time we celebrate to seeing that pretty face of yours.”

–

let me explain something to y’all it is 11pm here and this got wildly out of hand and it’s too mushy and i have an extreme paranoia of characters being ooc without meaning for them to be event tho sanji is hella easy but this was also super fun to write

also i suck at endings but tbh this one is like, top 5 for me so kudos me ima pat myself on the back. i’m posting this now bc idk what a schedule is :^)

also x2 i realized i didn’t edit this stupid thing, then i reread the ask for the third time and realized you asked for headcanons so long story short no headcanons, just scenario, and one very tired, incapable of reading admin

[kumeko]

Title: chicken soup for the Robin soul

A/N:  For @awhitehead17 for the @robinchristmasexchange! 

…

…

…

…

 i.                                                      

“I’m fine,” Tim croaked, struggling to sit up on his bed. His hands burned as he fumbled with the blankets, the cool cotton doing little to lower his temperature.

 “Just lie down,” his father sighed, hobbling over with a preciously balanced tray of food. The chicken soup sloshed slightly as he walked; despite his physiotherapy, he still had a bit of limp. Setting it down slowly on the side table, he crossed his arms, bemused. “Don’t know where you get this stubbornness from.”

 “You,” Tim chuckled, but the laugh caught in his chest and he started to cough. Hunching over, his shoulders shook as he wheezed. It felt like that time he broke his ribs. Maybe he had broken his ribs and this wasn’t the flu. He could get Bruce and Alfred to check on it and—god, he was sick, wasn’t he?

 “Alright wise-guy, good to see you’ve recovered enough to make jokes again.” Jack stacked up the pillows behind Tim, before slowly easing him into an upright position. Pressing his fingers against Tim’s neck, he winced. “But you’re still burning up. After soup, back to bed for you.”

His shoulders slumped as he nodded, giving in. There was no way Tim could patrol tonight, even if he wasn’t sick—his father would check up on him too much. Plus he’d be a complete liability to Batman. And after all it took to convince him to even let him wear the costume, he didn’t want to risk losing it. Picking up a spoon, he glanced as his dad suspiciously. “Did you make this?”

 “Don’t worry, it was Dana.” Jack ruffled his hair, a wry smile on his face. “Can’t make you even more sick.” He paused. “You’re…fine with that?”

 “With Dana?” Tim smiled, taking a small spoonful of the soup. If he had any doubts about his father’s new girlfriend, they were gone instantly. He moaned slightly, licking his lips. “Oh yes, she can stay. She’s a much better cook than you.”

 His father ruffled his hair more aggressively this time. “Alright, that’s enough out of you.” Pointing at the pills in the tray, Jack added, “When I’m back, those better be gone.”

“Yessir.” He barely managed to salute, his fingers tapping his burning forehead, before he dropped his too heavy arm to his side. The door closed with a soft click and Tim leaned to his side table, staring at the yellow broth and the two white tablets next to it. His stomach growled and he took another sip of the soup.

 Yeah, he could definitely get used to this.

 There was a soft click and Tim dropped the spoon. A burglar? The window behind him silently slid open, well-oiled after all of his sneaking out, and there was an almost silent thud as someone entered his room. Tim took a deep breath, ready to yell for help.

 “Tim.”

 At that gravelly voice, Tim relaxed and slumped back into the pillows. Turning over, he stared as Batman stood in a corner, his huge frame awkward in a teenager’s room. There was nothing about this that worked, whether it was his posters or his models or even his row of books—all of it screamed just how out-of-place Batman was.

 “You scared me.” He tried not to laugh, it hurt too much, but judging by the slight rise of Batman’s lips, he hadn’t hidden anything.

 “Just wanted to check how you are.” Batman quietly stepped forward, next to his bed. “You look terrible.”

 “You should see the other guy,” Tim quipped, closing his eyes. The absolute darkness felt good and soothing, somehow.

 He could hear Batman retreat, returning to the window. “Don’t come back for a week.”

 At that, Tim’s eyes flew open. “I’ll be fine by tom—”

 “Tim.” Batman slid open the window and looked over his shoulder. “Take your time. Robin can wait a couple of days.” And with that, he vanished into the darkness.

 Tim blinked. That meant he could still be Robin, right?

    ii.

 The ceiling was the same. Sprawled out on one of the Wayne Manor’s beds, Tim stared blankly at the ceiling, at the white bumps that formed countless patterns. Identical patterns to the one in his old bedroom and it was funny that in this mansion surrounded by wealth, something had stayed constant with his old, crappy apartment.

 No, that wasn’t right. The apartment wasn’t his anymore. This was his home now, though no matter how many times Tim repeated it, it didn’t sound real.

 There was a knock on the door and he turned just as Bruce poked his head in. “You awake?”

 “Hard not to be,” Tim rasped. Every breath racked his body and for once he couldn’t argue against the ‘sick’ verdict. He didn’t even need to ask to know that Steph and Cass were taking over his patrol. They’d both stopped by earlier, squeezing his hand sympathetically before disappearing into the night. If anything, he was surprised to find Bruce still here. Batman didn’t come home until the sun was up and sometimes not even then. “What about patrol?”

 Bruce chuckled, his voice low and deep but not at the depths of his alter ego. It was hard to believe they were the same person sometimes. To believe that either of them were the ‘real’ Bruce or that both of them were or that maybe there was a third Bruce he’d find someday. “I got that covered.”

 In his hands was a tray, a large bowl of soup taking up the majority of the space. Tim stared, and for a moment, he could see his father hobbling up a narrow corridor, hear a cane as it rapped on the wooden floor. A heavy hand on his forehead, a gruff Son, you overdid it at football practice.

 (and the lies, the lies that piled on like snow, did they ever have an honest conversation?)

 “Don’t worry, Alfred made this,” Bruce sighed, setting down the tray. “So you don’t have to stare so much.”

 “No, that’s…that’s not it.” Even this conversation was an echo and Tim looked away. Maybe his fever was getting to him. “Alfred did?”

 “Yes.” Bruce glanced at him and it was hard not to believe he didn’t figure it out right then and there. “You feeling better?”

 “A little,” he lied, pushing himself up to examine the tray. It was far neater than anything Jack and Dana had ever made. The pills were on a small plate.

 A warm, heavy hand was on his forehead and this wasn’t a memory, this was reality. Tim closed his eyes as Bruce pulled away. “Your fever is down, at least.”

 “Yeah.” Tim swallowed. He felt slightly nauseous and he wasn’t sure if it was his illness or just the situation.

 “You can sleep after you eat.” Bruce helped ease him up, pushing another pillow behind him so he could recline comfortably. “Alfred’ll have my head if I come back with a full bowl.”

 Tim smiled, despite himself. “He wouldn’t. He’s just acting.”

 “No, that’s his real trick. It makes it hard to tell when he’s ‘being silly’ and when he’s serious.” Bruce’s voice dropped into a low whisper. “I know he’s serious.”

 “Then I’ll take the soup.” Tim sat up a little straighter. “Robin has to protect Batman, after all.”

 “Yeah.” Bruce squeezed his shoulder. “But make sure to take care of yourself first.”

     iii.

 “How you feeling, kiddo?” The bed sank slightly as Dick sat down, his hand already checking Tim’s forehead. His fingers brushed aside Tim’s sweaty bangs. “Oof. Fever.”

 Tim stared blearily at the ceiling. He was way too used to this sight, to this feeling. “Terrible,” he croaked, sounding like a frog was stuck in his throat. Maybe it was. In this world, full of aliens and magic, it was entirely possible he was just cursed.

 “You sound it too.” Dick wrapped an arm around him, pulling Tim up just enough to stack the pillows behind him. Easing him back into a seated position, Dick sighed. “You pushed yourself too hard.”

 Tim gave him a flat stare.

 “Hey, I’m telling the truth. Don’t look at me like that.” Sitting back, Dick crossed his arms. “I should have known you were sick the second you started calling yourself ‘Red Robin’. And you make fun of my disco phase.”

 “Because that was a stupid costume and you know it,” Tim chuckled. His chest ached with every vibration and he winced. “Even Babs said so.”

 Looking a little miffed, Dick pursed his lips. His eyes narrowed. “Krory and Gar didn’t think so.” When Tim only gave him a sad stare, Dick huffed and picked up the glass of water. “Take your meds—your fever’s making you delusional.”

 There was a loud bang outside and Tim almost dropped the glass. As silence wrapped around them like a familiar blanket, he turned to Dick, eyebrow raised. “What was that?”

 “Well, I couldn’t leave the gremlin unsupervised. Since he’s been trying to kill you and everything.” Another loud bang and he rubbed the back of his head. “Cass said she’d take care of it.”

 “Training?” Tim mumbled, flinching at a particularly loud crack.

 “Yeah. I should have expected that.”  Dick’s shoulders slumped and he pressed a hand to his face, massaging his forehead. “I don’t know if it’s worse if they’re fighting or actually training. Kid’s already dangerous enough as is, if Cass starts teaching him…” He trailed off ominously and Tim felt a shiver that had nothing to do with his illness.

 Staring at the pills in his hand, Tim quickly downed them. This whole scenario felt familiar: the chicken noodle soup, the pills, the awkward bedside conversation. Life was just a series of circles. Deaths. Rebirths. Deaths again. Closing his eyes, he murmured, “I’m tired.”

 “You can eat later,” Dick suggested, reaching forward to adjust the pillow stack.

 Tim laid a hand on his wrist, stopping him. “Not that—I’m just…of death. I’m tired of it.” His fingers dug in slightly. “Dad. Dana. Steph. Connor. Bart. And now…”  Bruce. He couldn’t say the words, couldn’t make them real. If he said it, he’d cry. There was no changing that fact. He’d breakdown and he couldn’t do that. “I don’t want to lose anyone else.” His voice cracked.

 Dick gently pried off his hand before pulling Tim up for a proper hug. His arms wrapped around Tim tight. “I know.”

 “Does it—?” Tim asked, burying his face in Dick’s chest. He couldn’t remember the last time he hugged someone. The last time he was hugged. Maybe it was before the crisis, before Bruce’s disappearance. Or even earlier.

 “It doesn’t get easier,” Dick stated softly. “You just…you just learn to handle it better. But it’ll always hurt.”

 “Oh.” Was that good or bad? Tim closed his eyes. “Bruce, he’s alive. I know he is.”

 Dick didn’t say anything, just hugged him tighter.

     iv.

 “Are you sure you want to handle this?” Alfred asked, carefully placing the tray in Tim’s hands. Despite his age, he moved spryly around the kitchen, adding napkins and utensils and a small vase with a single rose to Tim’s cargo. “You could fall ill.”

 “Knowing my luck, I already am.” Tim smiled crookedly, adjusting the tray slightly. “Besides, a sick Bruce? I can’t miss this.”

 “Do not tease him too much,” Alfred warned wryly. “And do be careful, Master Timothy. I have my hands full with Master Damian as is, I do not need another patient.”

 “Maybe I should visit him too.” Chuckling darkly as he climbed the stairs, Tim spared a glance at Damian’s room. Maybe he could get Dick and Stephanie to come. They’d definitely get a laugh out of this.

 Coming to a halt in front of the master bedroom, Tim took a deep breath. The room was occupied now. Connor was back. Bart was back. Steph was back. And Bruce had never left, not really. For once, things were looking good. Smiling brightly, Tim eased the door open with his foot. “How’re you feeling?”

 For once, it felt good to be the one giving soup, not receiving it.

[itsclydebitches]

What if super serious silliness ensued and OZPIN was the one who started it?!

I’m a terrible prompt filler who jumped ahead in the list, but I was stuck in the airport today and wanted to write some of that silliness :D

Updated list of to-be filled prompts here 

On a particularly dreary, November morning Ozpin once watched a colleague of his pick up a vase and throw it across the room where it shattered, irreparable. The blue and white piece had been a gift from a friend two-hundred years dead, nothing more than an antique—by an unknown artist, no less—to everyone but him. His colleague apologized of course and Ozpin forgave him. Of course. Tempers had been high that day, their struggle great, and in the end he was pleased that this new friend had taken his grief out on a mere object, rather than on himself.

Still, such forgiveness didn’t stop him from clearing his then office of all other beloved mementos. As the years dragged and things like fire, grimm, or frayed tempers continued to destroy Ozpin’s tenuous links to his past, he’d eventually cleared them all away, stored in safe, secret places for him to visit when time allowed. His office became barren and if people thought that was a reflection of a cold and callous nature? Very well. Ozpin rarely had the luxury of proving them wrong. 

Today, his office held precisely four pieces of furniture: his desk, his chair, an additional chair brought out only for students… and an old-fashioned calendar hanging on the wall.

People commented on it frequently. After all, if you were going for a minimalist approach, why break it with a calendar of all things? Especially in the age where everyone kept schedules on their scrolls? The fact that it wasn’t even a particularly nice calendar seemed to throw people the most. Not that there was anything wrong with those sold in the Beacon gift shop, sporting landscape photos of the architecture and surrounding grounds, the occasional, generic headshot of a four student team. It just didn’t quite fit with the rest of Ozpin’s aesthetic.

He always smiled at those who questioned the choice, shrugged, and asked, “Why not?”

‘Why not?’ was a perfectly wonderful phrase. It left little room for further interrogation. In truth, Ozpin had grown fond of that calendar, if only because it added a spot of light to what had otherwise become a dreary room. That calendar, he thought fondly, also had the dubious pleasure of being the bane of Glynda’s existence.

“Sweet fucking dust.”

Ozpin bit hard into his lower lip, kindly not responding to her unusual choice of words. Every morning Glynda arrived with plans, notes, and any disasters that had sprung up during the night, everything a Headmaster might need to begin his day. Every morning she also took a black pen from her pocket and carefully marked another X on the calendar, right before leaving. This ensured that Glynda was always the first to see when Beacon traditions swung back around, those events helpfully written in green at the beginning of the year by her suspiciously eager boss.

Today there was just one notation, a massive exclamation point taking up the whole height of the box. Across the room, Ozpin watched Glynda’s face twitch in horror.

“Problem?” he asked. The look she shot him made it that much harder to swallow his laugh.

She didn’t respond. Glynda merely marched back to the elevator, wooden, her pallor suggesting she was a woman walking to her death. Ozpin might not have the comfort of his decorations anymore, but this calendar provided an equal—if vastly different—kind of camaraderie.

“We’ll be fine!” he called, lifting his mug in a toast just as the doors closed. Only then did Ozpin allow himself to laugh at his poor headmistresses’ plight.

Beacon’s prank week had just begun.  

***

“The alarms,” Bart said decisively, staring out the lounge window where Glynda was berating a group of students. Their shit-eating grins were visible even from this distance—as were the hundreds of utensils they’d stuck into the yard, spelling out a term not to be repeated in polite company. Bart made sure to get numerous pics of it on his scroll. “A hundred dust-infused alarm clocks hidden across the school, each set to go off at a different time during the course of the week? Simple, and yet utterly maddening. It took me forever to find that last one hidden under the floorboards of my classroom. I sometimes still think I can hear that incessant beeping…”

Peter shook his head, elbowing Bart out of the way so he could get a better look. “I’m afraid you’re wrong, old friend. The greatest prank goes to whoever set those boarbatusks loose!”

Peach set her novel aside, eyebrows raising. “Someone released grimm. Into Beacon. As a prank?”

“Ah yes. That was before you joined us.” Peter flapped a hand in her general direction. “Just young ones, my dear, just young ones. Besides, anyone here can dispatch a boarbatusk in moments! As my first year grimm studies class always demonstrates with aplomb. No, no, Pamela. The joke was in what was painted on their backs.”

Bart zipped there and back for more coffee. “We dispatched a one, a two, and a four,” he said, fingers flipping upwards with each number.

“And the three?”

“No three,” Peter chuckled. “Though we didn’t know that at the time. Looking for the supposedly illusive beast drove poor Glynda to… well.”

The three of them watched her herd the students off to class. All of them shook their heads as they went, hands raised in the universal gesture of innocence. It was a time honored tradition that any and all pranks performed during this week were to remain anonymous—and the students did a remarkable job of putting aside their pride in the name of turning their headmistress’s hair a premature gray. To this day no one knew exactly who orchestrated the alarm fiasco, let alone who managed to capture, wrangle, and set loose three boarbatusks at dawn without ever being caught out of bed. Pull aside any Beacon graduate and they’d just shake their head. Not me, good sir. I would never participate in such juvenile behavior.

Yeah. Right.

Together they watched as Glynda cut her arm sharply through the air, hundreds of forks, knives, spoons (and the occasional spork) flying in a vaguely threatening arc back towards the kitchen. With the grounds clear of creative profanity, their gaze bore down on Glynda as she briefly hung her head in her hands.  

“Poor woman,” Bart said.

“We should really do something to help her,” Peter agreed.

Peach nodded. “We are instructors after all.”

None of them moved. After a moment Bart pulled his scroll back up and started flipping through the photos. “You two want copies?”

“Don’t ask stupid questions, man.”

***

“It wasn’t me,” Sage squeaked, backing up and finding that there was nowhere left to go. In her peripheral vision she spotted her team scrambling around the corner, effectively abandoning her, and she made a mental note to murder them all later. Slowly.

Glynda’s hand tightened around her riding crop. The squeak of leather was overly loud in the otherwise silent hall. “Mr. Sekoni says otherwise.”

Sage’s mouth dropped. “Florian is a liar! Er—I mean—I got the same note, ma’am. See?” Careful that she didn’t get blasted back into the wall, Sage removed the slip of paper from her bag. The message was printed on some sort of thick, fancy card-stock and smelled vaguely of old books. Sage’s note said the same thing that Florian’s had, and theirs presumably matched the rest of the school. As far as Sage could tell, whoever had pulled this prank together made sure to include a note for themselves, making it pretty much impossible to tell who’d started it. Six hours in and no one had broken their innocent act.

Whoever they were, Sage was pretty sure she loved them.

“It was slipped under our door this morning,” she whispered. “I swear.”

“And you just decided to follow these instructions, did you?”

“…Yeah. Sorry, ma’am.”

With a growl Glynda snatched the note and stalked away, no doubt off to interrogate the next unfortunate student. Sage watched her go, wobbling slightly in her black heels. She still wasn’t used to walking around in these things. The purple cape made out of her neighbor’s blanket though? Kinda made Sage feel badass.

As their headmistress stalked away four more students dressed as Glynda Goodwitch scurried to press themselves against the wall. She cast disgusted looks at their outfits and Sage, dust help her, giggled.

It was a little funny. Professor Goodwitch would realize that eventually.

Maybe.

Sage cocked her head, fixing her white blouse. What had she been doing?

Oh yeah. Murder.

***

Ozpin considered the problem before him. “It’s the sleeves,” he said, shaking his head like these students had personally offended him. Snickers turned into full-blown laughter as Ozpin retrieved four rubber-bands from his desk drawer, slipping each onto the brothers’ wrists. It helped create a puff in their sleeves and Ozpin nodded, satisfied with the result. “There, much better. Just don’t let them cut off your circulation.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And you will cease doing one another’s homework.”

The twins exchanged glances. “…Yes, sir.”

“Very good.” Ozpin’s smile was back. “Now take your excellent outfits and get to class. You have history this morning, yes? Better hurry. You know how Doctor Oobleck is about lateness…”

That was more than enough to set the boys in motion. They snuck into the elevator just as Glynda walked out of it—pulling at their skirts and fluffing up their newly detailed sleeves. They gave her a salute, using a ruler and wooden spoon in lieu of riding crops.

Kids now safely out of her reach, Glynda turned her wrath on Ozpin instead. “Don’t you dare encourage them in this.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, not sounding sorry in the least. “They did such a good job on those costumes though. Surely you’re flattered…?”

“Flattered!” Glynda went to the calendar and viciously marked off the previous day. “In twenty-four hours I have cleaned up the front grounds—twice—been bombarded with calls from people wishing to buy Beacon because someone listed us on some advertising site for, and I quote, ‘The special one time price of five lien!’—” Behind her Ozpin choked. “I have dealt with a school-wide sleepover in the dining hall at 3:00am, the fifty pizzas that someone ordered to arrive during my class, and have had the supposed pleasure of watching everyone on campus attempt to mimic my wardrobe. Even Bart is dressing up now. And it’s only been one day!”

Ozpin knew from long experience that it was best to just let Glynda rant herself out. He made appropriate, sympathetic noises whenever she paused for breath and hid his humor behind many long sips of coffee. By the time she’d shared all pertinent info—including a comprehensive list of everyone who’d attended the sleepover, something Ozpin planned to “lose” very quickly—Glynda was marginally less red in the face and Ozpin had given his word that he wouldn’t suddenly show up in heels and a purple lined cape.

…though he’d had his fingers crossed behind his back when he said as much. Ozpin liked to keep his options open.

Because yes, it was a time honored, Beacon tradition that during prank week no one gave up who’d crafted, planned, and executed any of the madness. It was a gesture of solidarity… and easy enough to do. Given that only a handful of pranks over the years had actually originated from the student body. The rest…

Ozpin chuckled. Glynda gone, he seated himself before his laptop and pulled up his plans for today. Setting up those utensils and delivering instructions to every student’s room had been easy enough, especially with his speed. Fifty pizzas? Hardly put a dent in his fortune and his students always needed to eat. The sleepover had just been a rumor taking on a life of its own—beautifully—and Ozpin had listed Beacon for sale on a total whim during lunch. Really, Glynda should have been suspicious given that whoever uploaded the listing had access to her private scroll number.

He’d never meant to pick on Glynda specifically… but now that he’d started, it seemed rather a shame to stop.

“What now, what now,” Ozpin murmured, toying with his options. It wouldn’t do to be too hasty.

His eyes strayed to his calendar and yes, Ozpin smiled. After all, there were still six days left in the week.

[rom-e-o]

45.) Tell me a secret Jokamu or young jokamu!

[Annnnd boom! Finished! Thank you to @persorene for requesting this adorable prompt! This was so much fun to write!  decided to include young Jokamu and adult Jokamu just because I loved the idea of a long-lasting secret. I hope I did these two, blushing babs justice.]

[AO3 link is here.]

“Jakob! Hey, Jakob!”

The sound of his own name brought the young boy to a halt. It was impossible to ignore any sound within in the tall, stone-clad walls of the Northern Fortress. The facility was so vacant of both inhabitants and other assets that the acoustics amplified every sound to obnoxiously high levels.

Even if the person trotting behind him hadn’t called his name, the large, echoing halls of the fortress would have tipped him off to the sound of her footfalls eventually.

“Ah, Lady Corrin,” the young boy said, bowing his head to her as she dashed down the citadel’s hallway to greet him.

The young servant was about ten years old and had lived inside the Northern Fortress for a few years. As such, he’d become accustomed to the princess calling for his attention out of the blue. In fact, she was the only person who could do such a thing and not earn his agitation or passive-aggressive dismissal.

If she called his name, he always answered.

“What’s wrong?” he asked her, raising from his bow once she caught up to him. As she snapped into his usual attentive posture, the ends of his pale, pageboy-cut hair flicked his cheeks. His eyes, large and lavender in color, became a little softer while speaking to her. After all, she was a good friend.

He still recalled the day, mere weeks after his abandonment, when Corrin had saved his life by refusing to let the other servants toss him onto the streets. The memory was a few years old but was still as fresh in his mind as if it had happened mere hours before.

Originally, he’d merely felt indebted to the naïve girl. He’d originally concurred that she must have saved him on a childish, impulsive whim.

Now, he regarded her with increased fondness after spending more time with her. In that time, he’d learned how genuinely caring and sweet she was. He enjoyed reading storybooks with her and serving her favorite blends of tea. The best days were when he could stay for a bit and talk with her about little things, like the types of flowers that bloomed in the garden or what their dreams had been nights before. Sometimes they talked about their nightmares, and he liked those conversations the least.

Thankfully, as he watched her cross the hall to meet him, the young girl wore a wide grin on her face. It seemed that she was in a pleasant mood, which boded well for the likely topics of conversation.

Corrin barreled over to him and rushed to catch her breath. She asked breathlessly with her hands gripping her knees, “Jakob, I’m sorry, are you busy right now?”

“I was just going to fetch the laundry,” he said coolly. “It can wait a moment.”

Even though he was merely a boy, he spoke with maturity beyond his years already. The habit earned him sneers and eye-rolls from the other fortress staff members. Corrin was the only one who didn’t seem to mind.

Following his reply, she laughed sweetly in anticipation. The girl was still trying to steady her breathing, her pale curls bouncing with each soothing inhale and subsequent exhale. “Good! I promise I won’t keep you long. I just wanted to give you something.”

Jakob cocked his head at her in confusion. Before he would inquire what exactly she meant, the young girl had already reached into the sash of her simple dress. A moment later, she produced a letter in her overturned hand. The envelope was sealed crudely with unstamped, gold wax. The paper itself was also yellowed and somewhat torn at the edges.

“It’s…a letter?” Jakob asked, squinting as he looked at the neatly folded square in her hand.

She nodded quickly, her curls bouncing again. Even the satin ribbon she always used to tie her hair back couldn’t contain the wild locks. New strands sprung free of their binding with every swing of her head.

She said merrily, “It’s for you!”

“For me?” he asked. Jakob studied the parchment again before gently turning it over in his hands a few times. His eyes carefully scanned every inch of the letter.

“I’m confused. Who is it from?”

“It’s from me, of course!” Corrin replied sweetly. “It seemed silly to address it though since I wanted to deliver it to you myself.”

When she nodded again, he slowly reached out to take the letter.

“I’m still confused,” Jakob said blatantly. “You wrote this letter, right? We’re talking right now. Couldn’t you just…um, tell me instead of writing it in a letter? A letter that you’re also delivering to me in person.”

Corrin’s expression changed suddenly. She swiveled her head back and forth, scanning the area around them for any other unseen presences that could possibly disturb them. Jakob watched in silence as she surveyed the hall and listened keenly with her odd, but cute, pointed ears for any footsteps or hushed voices.

When she seemed certain they were alone, she turned back to Jakob.

“It’s a secret,” she told him.

She lifted a petite finger to her pursed lips and made a shushing gesture.

His brow furrowed obviously. The statement clearly didn’t remedy his confusion.

Then, as he went to break the wax seal, she suddenly reached out and grabbed his wrist, “Wait! I just told you that it was a secret!”

“So?’ he asked dumbly.

“So, you can’t open it now.”

The young servant blinked at Corrin, now even more baffled than before.

“Why would you deliver a secret letter to me that I can’t even open?” he asked. The tone of his belabored question was more inquisitive than angry, but his burning curiosity added an urgency that wasn’t unnoticed by Corrin. In fact, her sweet smile turned into a frown as she crossed her arms and studied him from beneath her bangs diligently.

“You can’t open it now,” she clarified.

The next question fell from his lips gracelessly. “When can I open it then?”

The girl suddenly became more bashful and gigglier than before. Her cheeks bloomed pink as she explained, “You can only open the letter on a day when I’m wearing roses in my hair.”

“Roses?” he asked cluelessly. The tiny butler then unsteadily lifted himself onto his tiptoes to double-check the top of the princess’s head and the back of her haphazardly done ponytail. Sure enough, there were no roses. Just as he’d originally thought.

“Well, when will that be?” Jakob asked with a slight whine. The princess couldn’t hide the surge of thrill that she felt from causing Jakob, who was almost always the picture of composure, to display impatience. Her shoulders hitched sharply as another laughing fit threatened to consume her.

“You’ll have to wait and see!” Corrin replied, lifting a hand into the air daintily. After a few twirls, the tip of her finger landed atop the bridge of Jakob’s nose, where she tapped playfully before darting away.

Just as Jakob began to register the sound of approaching footsteps and the conversing of voices, Corrin had taken off down the hall. No doubt the girl had snuck out of her room without permission and had to rush back before her absence was discovered. The fact that the princess would take such a risk to deliver him such a secret letter made him even more curious as to what was inside.

Months earlier, he would have just broken the seal and opened the damned thing without any regrets.

Now, he felt compelled to honor her request. She had told him to wait, and as such, had placed unmistakable trust in him. Although the boy’s curiosity burned bright, his loyalty to his princess blazed more.

He vowed then and there to keep her promise.

As the footsteps became louder, Jakob quickly hid the letter inside his chemise before it could be discovered. Just as he’d concealed the paper, two staff members on rounds turned the corner and started down the hall, faces lax with cool indifference.

As he stashed the letter, he also thought to reach for a kerchief that he carried in one of his pockets as part of his uniform.

The small butler assumed the role of polishing a nearby credenza with almost suspicious focus until the other servants had vacated the hall. Only then did he take the opportunity to dash back to his room and place the letter beneath his mattress for safekeeping.

The letter remained unread for over a decade.

Preparations for the wedding passed speed and grace that few had anticipated.

The established peace between Nohr and Hoshido had rung in a new era of amity for the previously warring kingdoms. Their respective kings could now welcome a new era of relations and solidarity. For Corrin, the newly designated queen of Valla, it was merely the start of a journey that would revolve around lifting a kingdom from a tragic past and into a promising future.

The very start of that journey would also begin with an official wedding to her fiancée and longtime retainer.

Everyone in the kingdom, visitors and otherwise, was in a tizzy during the days leading up to the ceremony. The palace in Valla was decorated with pounds of flowers and sprawling garlands for as far as the eye could see, making the air thick with perfume as the ground soft from the abundance of fallen petals. Every inch of the castle was cleaned and each guest rooms was dressed in the finest linens and commodities to welcome the onslaught of new guests flooding to the kingdom of Valla.

The ceremony was held in the palace’s royal hall. At the end of the hall, the Queen’s throne presided on a platform overlooking the corridor. The grand space allowed for plenty of room to seat the royal visitors from all three kingdoms, who all mingled peacefully and visited freely between the aisles prior to the ceremony.

By the time Jakob was escorted to the front of the hall by the army’s most renowned knight, Silas, Corrin wasn’t far behind. She was led along by her little sister Elise, who has been one of Corrin’s first allies on her journey for peace years ago. Now, the pigtailed girl was using one hand to blot away her tears with a pale-pink handkerchief, and the other was hooked around her big sister’s elbow.

Jakob was unable to look away.

The sight of the woman he loved more than life itself, dressed in layers of swan feather down and iridescent silk, was humbling beyond words for him. He felt elated, undeserving and anxious all at once, but there wasn’t a force in the entire universe that could have forced his eyes away from her. In a room full of people, everyone else seemed to vanish around her.

There was just Corrin.

While the ivory-color of her gown perfectly matched her candle-light colored locks, the pale color called attention to something else in Corrin’s ensemble that caused his eyes to widen.

In her pale updo was a crown of lavender and coral-colored roses.

After giving a quick kiss to her little sister and giving her a gentle push to join Camilla at her designated position near the throne, Corrin finally began the ascent to her throne. When her eyes met his and she saw the mischievous glimmer in his lavender gaze, she bit her lips to conceal a smile and snuck her gloved hand into his.

Jakob gave her palm a little extra squeeze.

Misty-eyed from her radiance, he couldn’t resist leaning forward to place a kiss on Corrin’s cheek. The gesture elicited a predictable coo from the audience, plus a loud wolf whistle that was undoubtedly Niles’s doing.

Before pulling away, his lips caressed the shell of her ear. He whispered to her, “You little sneak.”

It was Corrin’s turn to give his hand a squeeze, her thumb slowly running along the edge of Jakob’s hand in an act of secret affection that he, and only he, could experience.

Vows and rings were shared. The whole affair lasted mere minutes compared to how long their courtship had been. Judging by the weepiness of some audience members, the more serious part of the ceremony couldn’t have ended soon enough. When the couple shared a chaste kiss that sealed their matrimony in the eyes of the three kingdoms, the response from the attendees was overwhelmingly positive. They’d barely pulled apart from their embrace before a throng of family and friends descended upon them.

A shower of rose petals rained down upon the duo as Corrin intertwined her fingers with Jakob’s and proceeded to lead him down the aisle. While the standard procedure would have been for her to officially take her seat atop the throne as the nation’s new Queen, in a way, Azura had already assisted her with that right of passage immediately following the defeat of Anankos.

Due to the fact that she’d already undergone an abbreviated version of the ceremony, Corrin felt that such a display would have been too self-indulgent. At least, for the moment.

The queen instead pulled her husband along behind her, followed by a parade of salutations and blown kisses, as they departed for their private bedroom. Behind them, groups of maids and other servants rushed to clear the hall so that the area could be cleaned, and all the guests could be properly herded to the reception area for a small feast and a night full of joyful, slightly boozy dancing.

The couple knew couldn’t skip the royal reception, no matter how much they longed to do so.

Still, she knew they had at least a little bit of time before they had to make their grand entrance.

Stumbling back to their private bedroom in a clumsy and giggly embrace, the two barely managed to unlock the floor-to-ceiling doors and push their way through.

One Corrin had latched the lock on the corridor, Jakob returned to her side and stole another kiss from her lips. This time, the meeting was less virtuous than the formal kiss they’d shared at the altar. This time, lips were bitten and whispers turned to moans with ease.

“Easy, my love,” Corrin purred, hands working the buttons of his jacket. Her voice almost dripped with romance novel-sensuality as she cooed, “We have all night, and if you keep kissing me so well, I’m afraid I might not last until sunset.”

It was difficult for him to smother his laughter as Corrin’s unusually formal statement, but alas, he agreed wholeheartedly with the sentiment behind her joking remark.  

“Unfortunately, you’re right,” he said with a sigh, backing away with a sigh of whimsy rather than any form of reluctance. “Better to forgo anything too mischievous until there are no interruptions.”

“And no need to change clothes again,” she added with a snap, and Jakob couldn’t help but toss her a smirk of mutual agreement.

She stretched her arms over her head un an exaggerated yawn before lowering her palms to her lower back to give her joints a satisfying crack after hours of standing perfectly poised and upright. Around Jakob, she didn’t have to worry about enforcing such strict protocol.

“I do need a looser dress though,” she huffed. “Corsets seems unwise for trying to enjoy wedding cake.”

“Couldn’t agree more,” he chuckled, undoing the rest of his jacket’s buttons with delicate flicks of his fingers.

Slowly, Corrin reached behind her midsection to tug down the zipper of her gown. The relief of pressure was immediate, and she sighed in relief as she opened her wardrobe to survey what less restrictive gown she would wear to the event.

However, she was also aware that the two had some time before the reception. It wasn’t much, but they could easily steal a few moments together. Corrin was more than happy to take advantage of the narrow window with as much fervor as possible.

There was still a royal reception they had to get to. As much as she longed for it, they could spend the entire evening kissing in each other’s arms. Not yet.

“So,” Jakob said, his gloved hand moving up and down the silk lapels of his jacket as he popped the buttons and slid the material from his wide shoulders. “May I open it now?”

Corrin threw him an inquisitive stare, but before she could produce a question, he reached into the pocket of his jacket and produced a small, yellowed square of parchment with a tarnished seal.

The sight brought Corrin to a temporary halt.

“How did you know to bring the letter to the wedding?” Corrin asked sincerely, her face shimmering with delight as she crossed the chamber to meet him. “I made sure nobody else knew about the roses to make sure it was a secret.”

“We just became husband and wife,” he reminded her with a chuckle. Her hand wandered to her chin as he nudged her face upward to meet him. His eyes connected with hers and caused a flush of warmth to spread across his cheeks. “I like to think I know you quite well.”

Corrin was helpless to argue with his logic. Not that she wanted to in the first place.

“I can’t believe you didn’t open the letter, even after ten years,” Corrin said, raising her arms to loop them around his neck. Her fingers formed a gloved lattice at the back of his neck that slowly pulled him down to her level. “I knew I was right to trust you, Jakob.”

Praise always had a funny effect on Jakob. Compared to every other form of flattery he’d received about her perfectionism and his pristinely composed persona, Corrin’s favorable comments were the only ones that never ceased to get a rise out of him. Metaphorically and literally.

“You may open the letter,” she added with a soft nod, placing a kiss on his cheek.

“Now?” he asked incredulously. “Are you certain? It can wait, my love. There’s no need to rush.”

“No, I think it’s the perfect time,” Corrin admitted enthusiastically, her petticoats crinkling as she lifted her dress to assume a spot next to him on the bed. “I don’t even remember what I wrote! I mean, I remember the secret, but nothing else. It was so long ago. I’m kind of curious to see what else ten-year-old me was so anxious to tell you!”

With her blessing, Jakob somehow managed to tear himself from her embrace. It was an arduous effort, but the overwhelming sense of curiosity was the final nail on the proverbial coffin of their forlorn, long-gone childhoods.

After years of waiting and anticipation, it took but a small tug to crack the wax seal. He unfolded the parchment and read the words within swiftly.

“Dear Jakob,

“If you’re reading this, congratulations! You kept your promise. I knew you could do it. Felicia and Flora said that you wouldn’t listen…but I knew better!”

The syntax of the letter was noticeably novice, and her handwriting was an odd mix between print and cursive that required a few extra glances to adequately decipher.

He chuckled loudly and gave her a look out of the corner of his eye. “Very cute.”

She slapped his shoulder playfully and urged him to keep reading. After mumbling a half-hearted apology, he cleared his throat and pressed onward.

“I have a secret, but I’m too shy to tell you. I asked Gunter, and he told me to write down my feelings. So, I did. Here they are!

“I like you, Jakob. A lot. More than I love my siblings, or anyone else. I want to get married to you someday, and maybe we can even have kids! I’d love to have kids, but only if you want them too. That’s what people who are in love do.

“I want to be with you forever because being with you makes me happy! But I know that you aren’t always happy. But that’s okay. If we get married, I swear that I’m going to make you happy every day. Because you’re my best friend.

“Want to know a secret? I haven’t told this to anyone else. I’ve always wanted to wear roses on my wedding day. Princesses and princes wear them all the time in the books we read. So, if I get married to you, I’m going to wear roses in my hair, so that we’ll look just like the prince and princess in the stories we read.

“I hope when I ask you to marry me that you’ll say yes. If you don’t, that’s okay too. All that matters to me is that you’re happy.

“Love, Corrin.”

Jakob’s eyes softened as he reread the letter over again and again. He was so entranced with the words on the page that he didn’t register the feeling of Corrin’s fist tightening about his sleeve, drawing the fabric taut around his arm.

“Wow,” Corrin finally said, the word escaping like a breathy gasp.

“Agreed,” Jakob sighed, the corners of his mouth lifting into a soft smile. “Gods, you must have been so young when you wrong this.”

“I wrote the letter the same day I gave it to you,” she confirmed again with a nod. “Ten years ago.”

He chuckled softly before leaning into her, lifting an arm to wrap about her midsection. Corrin moved her shoulder and shifted her weight against him so he could draw their two bodies together. When she tucked her head under his chin, he dropped a kiss on her crown. The aroma of roses consumed her senses at the delicate touch.

“You planned this for ten years?” he asked her in quiet disbelief.

“I did,” she replied with a chuckle. “The big secret was…that I had a crush on you.”

“And…you only agreed to tell me this secret on our wedding day?” he asked again, slowly taking a coil of her hair into his hands, twirling it about in a seemingly aimless fashion.

“Yes.”

“You aren’t just a little sneak,” he growled as he tipped her body back into the bed. As she flew onto her back with a squeal of surprised delight, Jakob rolled atop her and barely held her wrists above her head. There was no real force behind the pin since Corrin was all too willing to allow the contact and had no struggle to fight back.

“You are a conniving little sneak,” he said hotly against the flushed column of her throat.

When he placed a kiss against the pulsebeat of her neck, Corrin arched her back and gave a moan of pleasure. Suddenly, she was cursing the thick tulle skirt of her wedding and the distance it added between their two bodies.

“Yes, I am,” she replied, her voice more of a plea than an answer.

The sound of his deep laughter so close to the column of her neck stirred her heartbeat from a rhythmic pound into an anxious, drumming frenzy.

“Well, the secret that my wife may be in love with me is out of the bag,” Jakob said with a laugh. “Who could have predicted such a turn of events?”

Although he spoke casually, it was clear to Corrin that it caused Jakob great difficulty to say the word ‘wife’ with a straight face. It was almost as if he found the statement too good to be true. Like, if he dared to speak too loudly, he’d wake up from the dream.

Almost subconsciously, Corrin loosened one of her hands from Jakob’s grip with ease and lifted in skyward to caress his cheek. His skin was hot to the touch, and he melted against the gesture almost immediately, silver lashes fluttering shut as a sigh plumed from his lips.

She wanted him to know, without a doubt, that everything around them was real. Perhaps, on the same level, she also longed for the same certainty. There were many nights when she’d stirred from her sleep, sometimes screaming and sometimes writhing in need, and immediately wishing Jakob was there with her.

“What a perfect ending to a ten-year mystery,” he admitted, lowering his forehead until it gently pressed against hers. As his face drew closer to hers, the aroma of roses began to consume him once again.

Slowly, his head tilted for a better angle that allowed Corrin’s head to roll languidly to meet his. Their mouths met over and over in a slow, smoldering display of pent-up passion that had finally come to fruition.

“Sorry, my love,” he said with a sultry laugh. “I don’t have a secret to return to you. My only admission is that the love you feel for me is returned tenfold. A hundred-fold. A thousand-fold.”

“Jakob…”

“I apologize that my contribution is so mundane, especially when compared to your clever antics,” he said, his hand sliding down her arm. His thumb slowly grazed the velvety skin through the supple satin of her gown. “It’s a bit anticlimactic, I’m afraid.”

Corrin tossed her head back and offered him a cocky smile that erased the last shred of hesitation and self-doubt within him.

“I feel like I may have an even bigger climax in mind instead,” Corrin teased with a wink. “You know, as a more fitting award for your patience.”

The word was punctuated with another soft sway of her hips against Jakob’s, her skirts crinkling with each movement. She heard his groan at the caress and felt her heart swell with pride at the idea that she had made Jakob, the picture of composure and indifference, make such an aroused sound.

“That is, as long as you don’t mind rushing a bit,” she sighed, dotting butterfly kissed down his neck as her fingers flew to untangle his cravat. “We do have a reception to get to, but I’m willing to make time if you can.”

Jakob was off the bed and across the bedchamber in an instant to kick the door shut and lock it tight.

Many guests wondered why it took the newly betrothed couple so long to arrive at the banquet. While guests like Niles and Reina cast each other knowing glances, attendees like Felicia and Hinata wondered if would be best to go check on the couple. After all, how long could it take them to change into a new set of clothes?

When the duo finally did arrive hand-in-hand to the event, the lipstick smudges on Jakob’s jaw and the way Corrin’s updo seemed to have mysteriously flattened at the back of her head caused a few attendees to lift their eyebrows over the rims of their wine glasses, while others were simply too distracted by the charming festivities to pay the oddities any mind.

It seemed the events that had transpired in the room would remain one of the many secrets shared only between the couple.